Time March 24, 2003
Slow Road to Justice
After decades
of brutal persecution, the people of East timor must wait a
little longer for redress
BY LISA CLAUSEN
The young
boy returned to the mountain village of Letefoho in fear and
disgrace. He was a child in 1999 when, swept up in the militia violence
that followed East Timor's vote for independence, he burnt down his aunt's
house and fled. When he finally came home this year, the teenager had
no
idea of what he would face. He bought new roofing material for his aunt
and
waited. And in a public ceremony last month, he apologized to her and
to
his neighbors, and was forgiven.
Across East
Timor, hundreds like him have come home. A few have returned to
beatings. But many more, in village hearings organized by the nation's
one-year-old Commission for Reception, Truth and Reconciliation (CAVR),
have been accepted back into their communities. In the Letefoho area alone,
the CAVR has been asked to help with 39 such meetings since December.
But
reconciliation with their neighbors is not the only justice the East
Timorese want. For more serious crimes, for the killings, rapes and torture
of 1999 and the 24 years of Indonesian occupation before that, they want
the justice of a courtroom. That process has been slow and hard. And when
last month's indictment of key Indonesian military figures for war crimes
was welcomed by the population but not by President Xanana Gusmão,
many
East Timorese felt more confused than ever about when justice will be
done.
The 1999
campaign of violence forced an estimated 250,000 people into West
Timor; some of whom had fled there to leave their crimes behind. Today
all
but about 28,000 have come home, among them those accused of lesser crimes,
such as assault, intimidation and theft. So far, 200 of these have
volunteered statements to CAVR. Such gatherings, says Commissioner Isabel
Guterres, can be emotional events: "They hug and cry and say, 'You
are like
me. We are the little people.' It's the leaders they want brought to justice."
Charged
with doing that is the nation's new judicial system, along with the
U.N.-established Special Panel for Serious Crimes and the investigators
of
the Serious Crimes Unit. There's been some progress, with 32 convictions
so
far, and 58 indictments—involving 240 people—issued by the Se
SCU. But more
than half the accused remain at large in Indonesia. And creating a judicial
system from nothing has proved a massive task. Delays, language problems
and inexperienced lawyers plague the system, says Nelson Belo of the
Judicial System Monitoring Programme: "Defendants don't know their
rights
or understand the court process."
Amid the
frustration, good news came on Feb.24, with the lodging in Dili of
the most significant indictments yet: charges against the former governor
of East Timor, and seven key military figures, including the now retired
Indonesian Minister of Defence, General Wiranto. Charged with crimes
against humanity, the eight were indicted for 280 alleged murders, based
on
more than 1,500 witness statements. The charges brought "new hope
to the
people," says Jose Luis de Oliveira, head of the NGO Yayasan HAK.
"Before
that people were feeling frustrated that politicians were not being vocal
and nothing was being done."
But not
everyone in East Timor rejoiced at the news. Instead, a political
flurry has erupted, with Gusmão expressing his dismay about
the impact
such high-profile charges may have on East Timor's evolving ties with
its
powerful neighbor. The independence of the judicial process is clear,
says
Gusmão's chief of staff, Agio Pereira, "but the President
also considers
the relationship with the Indonesian government to be of paramount
importance for our own development." For now, the indictments remain
in
limbo: East Timor has no extradition treaty with Indonesia, and it's
unclear whether the warrants, which must pass through the foreign ministry,
will even be sent to Indonesia. But the symbolism is potent—which
is why
Foreign Ministerr Jose Ramos Horta travelled to Indonesia soon after the
indictments were lodged to reassure Indonesia that the bilateral bond
remained the new nation's focus. "Justice must not come second,"
says
Pereira, "but the issue the President raises is how to honor justice—and
that is not by revenge." For Gusmão, the best way is
economic development.
"It will be meaningless if we have all the perpetrators in jail,
but the
people continue to face infant mortality, endemic and epidemic diseases,
without a decent home, without clean water and food," he said on
Feb. 17.
Gusmão argues Indonesia is the key to such growth. The U.N.
mission in
East Timor agrees. Says mission chief Kamalesh Sharma: "I'm hopeful
that
the maturity of relations between both countries would insulate them from
the trials and tribulations of the independent decisions of a judicial
process."
But many
are deeply unhappy that their popular president, a former
resistance leader and prisoner, seems willing to put that relationship
above key indictments. "For us it is justice first, not development,"
says
Yayasan HAK's de Oliveira. "Justice is not about destroying the
relationship between Indonesia and East Timor but it is a fundamental
need
of the people." JSMP's Belo says people are pessimistic about the
indictments, and feel the U.N. too has "washed its hands of them."
Others
are simply confused. "People feel men like this should have to take
responsibility for what they did," says Sister Theresa Ward, who
has been
working with East Timorese since 1995. "They can't understand why
these men
won't face court." A lifting of poverty is vital, says CAVR Commissioner
Isabel Guterres, but everywhere, people ask when justice will come. They
are willing to wait, she says, "but something must happen."
As they
wait, the East Timorese have new violence to worry about. A riot in
Dili in December has been followed this year by two attacks outside the
capital by armed gangs, prompting the U.N. to recommend a slowing of the
planned phased withdrawal of its 3,800-strong peacekeeping force. Only
one
of the gangs was caught, and PKF Commander Major-General Tan Huck Gim
says
another five could be at large, despite PKF efforts to find them. Some
local communities fear the gangs are returning militia; Tan says though
they may contain some ex-militia, the gangs have more basic motives: "They
come to steal and they go back to where they're from because they know
the
people and the terrain—and they know who there has money." The
military
chief rates the gangs as East Timor's biggest long-term security threat:
"The people of Timor-Leste are justifiably concerned." If such
gangs are
indeed driven by hunger and poverty, President Gusmão may
be right in
seeing economic development as his nation's ticket to stability. Now he
must reassure his people that some delay in the quest for justice is a
price worth paying for their future prosperity.