Coming to Grips with History, Jakarta-Style
In the East Timor trials, neither the soldiers nor their buddies look worried
BY PHIL ZABRISKIE / JAKARTA
Photo: Former militia leader Guterres emerges from his trial in Indonesia's
human rights court.WEDA/AFP
For a man facing the death penalty, Eurico Guterres doesn't look anxious.
Sitting in a steamy Jakarta courthouse, a ceiling fan whirring overhead,
he
appears to have given more consideration to choosing his outfit-combat
fatigues smartly pressed, a red and white scarf tied fastidiously around
his
neck-than to saving his own skin. Guterres is a central figure in the
first
ever human-rights trials held on Indonesian soil, a highly public attempt
to
account and atone for the carnage that occurred in East Timor in 1999
when
the Indonesian military, in conjunction with local militias, viciously
turned
on supporters of East Timor's pro-independence movement. But Guterres,
the
leader of one of the most brutal of the militia gangs, wears the look
of
someone whose conscience is clean as he asks, "What do I have to
be concerned
about?"
International pressure forced Indonesia to hold the trials, but Jakarta,
insisting the tribunals be under Indonesian jurisdiction, appointed local
judges and prosecutors. Ostensibly intended to deliver justice to victims
who
were murdered or wounded while simply trying to vote in East Timor's
independence referendum, the trials have come to symbolize Indonesia's
struggle to rein in the military's influence on virtually every aspect
of
life in this sprawling archipelago.
From the start, however, the government has been accused of being less
than
vigorous in its prosecution. The indictments drawn up by the Attorney
General's office focus on specific incidents, rather than attempting to
prove
a systematic campaign of terror by the military and its militia proxies.
They
charge military and police leaders (and Guterres) with failing to prevent
the
violence. The implication is that the murders, maimings and firebombings
being dissected at the trials were a few extreme acts in an otherwise
just
and orderly operation. That's how the military wants its actions in 1999
to
be portrayed, and that's what was heard until recently from people on
the
streets-but not what investigators, journalists and activists saw in East
Timor, and have described in accounts available to anyone who cares to
look.
"The indictments are so appalling that they will serve no useful
purpose,"
says Sidney Jones of the International Crisis Group.
Today's testimony concerns a joint military and militia raid on the home
of
pro-independence leader Manuel Carrascalao's in April 1999. One witness
recounts seeing a friend killed, before being shot and stabbed himself;
Guterres yawns. Another claims to have helped dispose of the bodies of
the 11
people killed that day; Guterres smiles at a joke from one of his six
lawyers. A third says he was forcibly conscripted into Guterres' militia
under fear of death. The defendant taps his foot and glances around the
room.
Guterres was videotaped before the raid calling for the destruction of
the
Carrascalao family and the death of pro-independence Timorese. He has
been
placed at the house by eyewitnesses. But those witnesses are not here.
Those
who are here seem flustered, unable to understand some of the questions,
which are in Indonesian. There is no interpreter present. The chief judge
warns a defense lawyer to speak more slowly and less aggressively. The
lawyer
says that East Timorese must be spoken to sternly or they won't understand,
like children.
A special rapporteur from the United Nations was in Jakarta last week
on a
mission to assess the state of the Indonesian judiciary. He told reporters
that what he saw had been even more disappointing than his already dismal
expectations. For the duration of his 32-year reign, former President
Suharto
prevented the growth of an independent judiciary and kneecapped the concept
of aggressive prosecution. Though Bapak is several years removed from
power,
many believe the rich and powerful still benefit from a favorably disposed
judiciary. And the military's influence, far from shrinking, is being
shored
up. Which is not to say the trials won't deliver some convictions. Indonesia
is aware of Washington's interest in the case. Following the 1999 slaughters,
Congress passed laws saying U.S. relations with Indonesia, particularly
military cooperation, would be limited until the country accounted for
crimes
against humanity in East Timor, among other reforms. Washington wants
to get
closer to the Indonesian military, viewing it as an important Southeast
Asian
partner in the fight against terrorism. Some soldiers could get jail time
and
some might even serve it, but these will be sacrificial convictions offered
up by a grudging military-not an atonement, not an accounting and certainly
not justice.
The military is openly displaying contempt for the trials, closing ranks
and
acting as if they've been betrayed. Their uniformed, bemedaled presence
in
the courtroom can be read as an attempt to remind the judiciary where
the
real power lies. At the opening hearing for five men accused of allowing
a
massacre at a church in Suai, the five army Chiefs of Staff attended with
their wives, a dramatic reminder that those supporting the defendants
are
more powerful than those who will decide their fate. On Thursday morning,
the
trial of Yudyat Sudryato, a commander of the military's Kopassus special
forces, was in session. About 40 Kopassus members faced the judges from
the
gallery, decked out in full uniform, red berets tucked under shoulder
straps
and daggers hanging from their belts despite a ban on weapons in the
courtroom. East Timorese witnesses find that atmosphere unnerving, and
they're not alone. One of the judges in another of the trials, when asked
by
Time if he thought the soldiers were trying to intimidate the members
of the
court, nodded vigorously.
The day before, Guterres himself was strutting around the hallway, clad
head-to-toe in denim, with his long mane of hair trailing behind, accompanied
by the scent of bountifully applied cologne. (At the judges' discretion,
none
of the defendants in any of the trials have been incarcerated.) He ducked
into the trial of General Adam Damiri, who oversaw the military command
for
East Timor in 1999 and is the highest ranking military official on trial.
When Damiri's session ended, Guterres hurried to greet the general with
a
handshake and a hug, and the two men walked out together, smiling-and
confident in the belief that their version of history will live on.