By Neil Sullivan
From Comoro airport to Dili, it seems there are more police than public; they are more obvious. Two or three at every intersection and at points in between.
This sets the atmosphere for my visit to the island, an atmosphere of suspicion, intimidation and control.
The idea of putting yourself in another's shoes, to try to appreciate their situation, is in this case an emotive experience: your country invaded, your flag replaced by that of the invader, your language replaced and restricted, your jobs lost, your land stolen, even within your own home you fear intrusion, arrests on the pretext of "suspicion", beatings, interrogation, torture for the "suspicious" (those who are concerned, who discuss the situation, who don't accept the invader).
You are not safe out at night, and you are not safe at home. What if this was Australia and our "friends" in the USA and the UK did nothing to help?
It is depressing, if not infuriating, to be a visitor and not feel free to talk, look, record, react. It gives a little insight as to how the East Timorese must feel about the "Indonesian invaders".
It is doubtful that the implanted Indonesian officials — police, military, government workers and transmigrants — are happy to be there. One member of a group of Sumatran road engineers said that they were afraid and in danger. "Go to Bali — it's safer there", they said.
The only winners are the dictators in Jakarta, and that victory is only within their own narrow, corrupt parameters.
From Dili to Baucau to Ossu to Ermera, the presence of the occupation forces is alarming — convoys of trucks full of heavily armed military; patrols of infantry with their automatic rifles "at the ready"; visually unobtrusive groups of soldiers at various points along the roadside.
As if in explanation, the locals comment derisively, "Indonesians", "bastards". There is a lot of sideways glancing in East Timor. It is the safest way to view the military and police.
Many East Timorese have lost confidence in the outside world and in the East Timorese who are living in other countries. The politics of the outsiders have no place in their struggle for survival. Survival, both physical and cultural, is the issue. There is no balancing of economics and morality. The Timorese know they are right to continue resisting. They know it is their country.
Regardless of the depression an outsider may feel in East Timor, the attitude of the people is inspirational. They are not cowed by the invaders and continue to resist under the burden of their daily uncertainties. As one priest told me, "This [resistance and its consequences] is the daily reality for the Timorese people".
This attitude is most evident in the youth. Their energy, enthusiasm and determination give the feeling that they will succeed. This seemingly boundless confidence is inspired by the resistance guerillas and the Catholic Church, who are the organisers and hope of the people. These two institutions hold the East Timorese nation together. The strength of universal rightness will outlast the ethos of the invader.
Considering the tragedies of the past and the continuing reports of detention, arrests, shootings, rape and torture, which have escalated since the Nobel Peace Prize award, it is almost beyond belief that the Australian, US, UK, Canadian and other governments should continue to back the Indonesian military dictatorship.
The Indonesian government will eventually fail in its quest. If our governments don't assist the East Timorese to attain their right to have a say in their own future through a UN-sponsored referendum, they will be betraying their constituents and our democracy.