1. PLANTEAMIENTO DEL PROBLEMA
2.4. LA DIMENSIÓN AMBIENTAL EN EL CONTEXTO EDUCATIVO
Following the vote for independence, the Australian government was faced with a rapidly deteriorating security situation in East Timor. In just a few days, the decision would be made to embark Australia on its largest military operation since the
Vietnam War, in which it would play the lead role in an international coalition. The government’s response has been criticised as tardy and ill prepared. In fact, prior military preparations and a flurry of diplomatic activity allowed Australia to launch a comparatively rapid response to the situation.
Military preparations before September 1999
A major criticism of Australia’s policy in 1999 was that the use of armed force to control the violence came too late, and that more should have been done to allow rapid insertion of peacekeeping forces.75 Such criticisms are only partly justified. It
71
Cited in Ian McPhedran, ‘Timor on brink of civil war,’ Herald Sun, 7 April 1999, p. 6.
72
East Timor in Transition 1998-2000, pp. 57-61. White has likewise acknowledged the government was well aware of the TNI-militia links, White, ‘The road to INTERFET,’ p. 77. Amnesty
International also released a report in June 1999 which gave detailed information regarding the links between the TNI and the militias. See East Timor: Seize the moment, Amnesty International, no. 21/49/99, 1999.
73
Cited in Greenlees and Garran, Deliverance, p. 166.
74
Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, p. 94.
75
For examples of contemporary media criticisms, see Paul Daley, ‘Timor’s pain, Australia’s shame,’
The Age, 11 September 1999, p. 3; Paul Kelly, ‘Shattered myths,’ The Australian, 11 September 1999, p. 25; Julie McCrossin, ‘Putting a leash on talkback’s dogs of war,’ The Australian Financial Review, 10 September 1999, p. 12; Mike Seccombe, ‘A special relationship?’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 11 September 1999, p. 35. For a variety of academic criticisms, see Scott Burchill, ‘East Timor, Australia and Indonesia,’ in Guns and ballot boxes: East Timor’s vote for independence, ed. Damien Kingsbury, Victoria, Monash Asia Institute, 2000, p. 180; Fernandes, Reluctant saviour, pp. 94-95; Leaver,
is true that Australia did not support sending a peacekeeping force to East Timor before the ballot, despite the predictability of violence. This was because Indonesia rejected the idea, although, as already discussed, Indonesia was not pressured to accept a force. Moreover, given Australia’s rejection of a pre-ballot intervention, it could not openly prepare for an immediate post-ballot intervention either. Apart from having an equally damaging impact on the relationship with Indonesia, any such moves would have confirmed the main criticism leveled at the government
domestically, that Indonesia’s pledge to maintain security after the ballot could not be trusted. There was open discussion of a UN peacekeeping mission when Indonesia handed over control of East Timor, but this was not expected to eventuate until months after the ballot.76
Behind the scenes, however, Australia’s defence and intelligence machines were being cranked into action. Just as the extent of Australian intelligence on the TNI and the militias was kept secret, so was the extent of Australian military planning for possible intervention in East Timor. The Australian government almost certainly anticipated the general post-ballot strategy of the Indonesian military, although they may have been surprised by the extent of the physical destruction. It was widely expected among the media and UN personnel on the ground that there would be extensive violence after the ballot, and the ‘Ganardi’ document outlining Indonesian plans was publicly available.77 It is impossible to believe then, that the situation was not fully understood by Australian intelligence, whose resources in East Timor were extensive. As Ball details, Australia had effective penetration of Indonesia’s military communications, from satellite telephone calls between senior military officers in Dili and Jakarta, down to walkie-talkie transmissions within East Timor.
Photographic intelligence on East Timor was provided by Australian reconnaissance flights and US satellite imagery.78 In addition, Australia had access to various human
‘Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,’ p. 2. Howard’s position has been defended by Robert Garran, True believer: John Howard, George Bush and the American alliance, Crows Nest, Allen & Unwin, 2004, pp. 55-57.
76
For example, see Mark Riley, ‘Timor: Plan for UN rule,’ The Age, 31 July 1999, p. 1.
77
For example, see Mark Dodd, ‘Fears of bloodbath grow as militias stockpile arms,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 26 July 1999, p. 9; Mark Dodd, ‘Jakarta to abandon free Timor,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 20 July 1999, p. 1; Lindsay Murdoch, ‘Poll may not end Timor killings,’ The Age, 10 July 1999, p. 19.
78
Ball, ‘Silent witness,’ pp. 40-44. See also East Timor: Final report of the Senate foreign affairs, defence and trade references committee, pp. 183ff; Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, p. 94; Lyons, ‘The secret Timor dossier.’ The extent of Australia’s intelligence coverage was revealed
intelligence sources on the ground in East Timor throughout the first half of 1999. These included diplomatic and military personnel attached to the newly opened Australian consulate and UN observer mission.79
Due precisely to worrying intelligence assessments, military planners started considering their options in East Timor from early in 1999.80 Planning was kept highly secret, because any suggestion that Australia did not accept Indonesia’s guarantee that they would maintain security after the ballot would have a major political impact, both domestically and in relations with Indonesia. After the announcement of the 5 May Agreement, detailed planning began for ‘Operation Spitfire’, an evacuation of Australian and other foreign nationals in the event of post- ballot violence.
It is unclear whether planning for the evacuation was used consciously as a political cover for planning the later intervention, but in effect this is what occurred.
Fernandes stresses that Spitfire was planned purely as an evacuation, not the large scale military deployment Australia eventually undertook.81 However, from the beginning Spitfire planned for two contingencies. The first called for the use of only small numbers of armed Australian personnel if, as eventuated, Indonesian forces co- operated with evacuations by air. This plan was put into action on September 6th, including the evacuation of UN personnel and a greater than expected number of East Timorese refugees.82
But plans were also made for a far stronger Australian force to be inserted into East Timor in order to secure key areas, such as Dili’s airport and harbour. This spearhead could then wait for more substantial international forces to arrive. This second plan came to form the basis for ‘Operation Warden’, as Australia’s initial deployment in late September became known. As Breen writes in his detailed account, ‘In simple terms, Operation Warden was Operation Spitfire with more combat power and a
in transcripts of Indonesian communications leaked to the media in 2002, see Hamish McDonald, ‘Silence over a crime against humanity,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 14 March 2002, p. 10.
79
Interview with Damien Kingsbury, 14.12.2006, Melbourne. For Australian aid worker Lansell Taudevin’s reports on militia activies, see Taudevin, East Timor: Too little too late, pp. 177-178.
80
Bob Breen, Mission accomplished, East Timor: The Australian Defence Force participation in the International Forces East Timor (INTERFET), Crows Nest, Allen & Unwin, 2000, pp. 2-4. See also Robert Garran, ‘Downer’s secret plan for E Timor’s future,’ The Australian, 22 February 1999, p. 1.
81
Fernandes, Reluctant saviour, pp. 104-111.This is also noted by Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, p. 116; Greenlees and Garran, Deliverance, p. 236.
82
larger logistic tail.’83 This possibility was recognised even as Spitfire was being implemented, with command of the evacuation operation given to Major General Peter Cosgrove, who would also have to be in control of any more substantial operation, in his role as commander of the Deployable Joint Force Headquarters. Also for this reason, Cosgrove had been involved in early planning for eventualities in Timor, and had recommended as early as May that two battalions of light infantry, as well as armoured personnel carriers, be used to secure vital points in Dili. This was essentially the plan that was implemented in the first two days of Operation Warden, although the role of the 1st Battalion (light infantry) in the initial plan was instead fulfilled by 2nd Battalion due to a scheduled operational rotation.84 In effect, logistical planning for Operation Warden also began as early as July. But logistics officers were explicitly forbidden, for example, to purchase additional stores or pre- position supplies and personnel in northern Australia, in case Indonesia learnt of the preparations.85 Some officers did, however, begin to learn Timorese dialects.86 Finally, there are also reports that Australian special forces made landings in East Timor from April 1999, in order to reconnoitre potential landing sites as well as observe the Indonesian military, a high-risk endeavor that points to preparations for major operations.87
Two other decisions made by the government earlier in 1999 smoothed eventual operations in Timor. The first was putting the 5/7th Battalion (mechanised infantry) on a heightened state of readiness from March, such that the unit was ready to deploy within 28 days. The second was the lease in April of a high speed catamaran, capable of rapidly moving personnel and equipment from Darwin to East Timor, which was used in the first deployment of Australian troops. At the time of both decisions, the media immediately drew a link for preparations for peacekeeping in East Timor.88 In the case of the infantry battalion this was incorrect, as it was only incorporated into
83
Ibid., p. 21.
84
See Ibid., pp. 23-24, 33-43. More detail of the deployment is given in the next chapter.
85
Ibid., p. 123.
86
Brendan Nicholson, ‘Diggers learn a new language,’ The Age, 17 April 1999, p. 21.
87
Ian Hunter, ‘Elite forces scouted island from April,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 11 October 1999, p. 11. In June, the Indonesian military made public allegations that foreign helicopters were violating Indonesian airspace over Timor, see Mark Dodd, ‘Militias: Australia points finger,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 10 June 1999, p. 8.
88
Geoffrey Barker, ‘East Timor fears trigger troops build-up,’ The Australian Financial Review, 12 March 1999, p. 1; Andrew Darby, ‘Defence force gets fast catamaran,’ The Age, 27 April 1999, p. 8.
operational plans after the ballot. But both decisions do again indicate that the
government was strategically planning for a period of heightened military operations. As Cotton argues, none of this should be taken to mean that there was advance
planning for the full-scale international peacekeeping operation that Interfet (International Force for East Timor) was to become.89 But there was substantial preparation for the Australian military’s immediate task of securing Dili and surrounding areas as Indonesian forces were withdrawn. The net result was that within two weeks of the decision to intervene, Australian troops were operating on the ground in East Timor.90
Australian decision making, September 4th to 7th 1999
In light of criticisms that the Australian government moved too slowly to intervene in East Timor, it is valuable to examine the decision making process in early September in detail. The key decision making body during this time was the National Security Committee (NSC), a sub-committee of Cabinet including the Prime Minister and Defence and Foreign Ministers, as well as key defence and intelligence advisors. This body met on August 30th to consider options for evacuating Australian personnel from East Timor, including seizing control of parts of Dili if the
Indonesians did not cooperate.91 However, with the ballot itself passing relatively peacefully, Downer played down the prospects of a rapid deployment of
peacekeepers to East Timor, and instead claimed vindication for his earlier opposition to an armed UN presence.92
Nonetheless, despite emphasising that Indonesia remained responsible for security, on August 26th the Australian military had been ordered to prepare to evacuate foreign nationals from East Timor, several days before the ballot. Personnel required for the operation were pre-positioned and placed on standby from August 27th.93 With the security situation deteriorating rapidly, Downer spoke to his Indonesian counterpart on September 5th to discuss an Australian evacuation operation, and
89
Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, p. 116.
90
See White, ‘The road to INTERFET,’ pp. 80-81.
91
Paul Daley, ‘Canberra considers Timor options,’ The Age, 30 August 1999, p. 10.
92
Transcript of interview with Alexander Downer on ABC TV, 31.08.1999; Paul Daley, ‘Downer ‘right’ not to call for peace force,’ The Age, 1 September 1999, p. 13.
93
Breen, Mission accomplished, p. 5; Paul Daley, ‘Australian troops on rescue alert,’ The Age, 27 August 1999, p. 1.
Indonesia gave approval for flights out of Dili and Baucau.94 On the same day, the head of UNAMET formally requested assistance to evacuate his staff. The minimal force version of Operation Spitfire was put into operation, and on September 6th evacuees began to be airlifted out of Dili by the Australian Air Force. The next day flights also commenced out of Baucau, and the evacuation was completed on
September 13th.95 But even while the evacuation was underway, planning for a more substantial military deployment was also begun. From September 5th, General Cosgrove and his staff rapidly updated their earlier contingency plans, and their proposal was approved by top military officers on September 7th. Preparations for the deployment then began in secrecy.96
Meanwhile, Canberra’s attention had also already shifted to the need for a more substantial peacekeeping mission.97 On September 4th, Downer gave the first indication that Australia would be prepared to lead an international coalition to rapidly restore security in East Timor. He also revealed that Australia had already sought international support for such a mission.98 The next morning, Howard contacted Habibie to seek Indonesia’s permission for such a mission, but was rebuffed. Nonetheless, on September 6th and 7th, the NSC met to consider situation, and decided to commit Australia to military intervention in East Timor.99
Some voices began to call for Australian forces to be sent to East Timor with or without Indonesia’s approval. This was not only the preserve of Left-wing activists; by September 8th even the Sydney Morning Herald editorialised
Australia should end this dangerous period of uncertainty. It should declare its intention to move troops into East Timor if Indonesia doesn’t restore order
94
East Timor in Transition 1998-2000, p. 130.
95
For an account, see Breen, Mission accomplished, pp. 5-14.
96
Ibid., p. 21; Greenlees and Garran, Deliverance, p. 237.
97
For a detailed account of the decision making process, see Greenlees and Garran, Deliverance, pp. 236-239.
98
Fia Cumming, ‘Force ready and waiting,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 5 September 1999, p. 7.
99
It seems that an in principle decision was made on the 6th, but that a detailed proposal was only considered on the 7th. See Geoffrey Barker, ‘Howard calls for UN pressure,’ The Australian Financial Review, 7 September 1999, p. 8; Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, p. 95; Greenlees and Garran, Deliverance, p. 239; Lincoln Wright, ‘Our troops ready to go: PM,’ The Canberra Times, 8 September 1999, p. 1. Then Deputy Secretary of Defence White recalls that the NSC was meeting for long periods at this time, often without reaching firm conclusions, but that the relevant Ministers had agreed on this position by the end of the 7th. White, ‘The road to INTERFET,’ p. 82.
immediately and if, in that event, the UN Security Council fails to call together urgently a peacekeeping force.100
However, such a possibility was never considered by the government. The NSC decided that Jakarta’s go ahead was an absolute precondition for action. A strong UN mandate was also considered necessary, although this would be a ‘coalition of the willing’ style intervention, not a formal UN peacekeeping operation, and hence could be organised far more quickly. For political reasons, the involvement of Southeast Asian nations in the coalition was considered vital. For both political and more practical reasons, substantial United States involvement was also deemed a priority, not least in order to fill gaps in Australia’s military capacity. In fact, the NSC
originally decided to offer just 2000 Australian troops out of an international force of around 7000. It soon became clear, however, that the only country with the will and capacity to lead such a mission was Australia itself, and it would have to supply the bulk of the forces.101
Diplomatic maneuvers
In the first three weeks of September, Australia found itself at the centre of an international diplomatic whirlwind. Militarily, Australia had made significant preparations for intervention. Diplomatically, however, the government had been arguing against making such an intervention. This meant that frantic activity was now needed to ensure international support for the venture, in particular from the United States, as well as to obtain Indonesian acceptance.
The most important task was to obtain full support from the United States. This was more difficult than Howard might have expected. Australia undoubtedly played the leading role in this particular episode of the alliance relationship. In early September, opinion in the US administration was divided on the issue of East Timor.102 As late as September 5th, it seemed the US was at best indifferent towards Australian calls for a peacekeeping force, placing the emphasis on Australia and Indonesia managing
100
Editorial, ‘What must be done in Timor,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 8 September 1999, p. 18. See also Paul Gray, ‘It’s time to defend an innocent people,’ Herald Sun, 8 September 1999, p. 18. For comments from Left-wing activists, see Jim Aubrey, ‘Get tough over Timor,’ Herald Sun, 6 September 1999, p. 17; Victoria Button, ‘Doctors call for force,’ The Age, 13 September 1999, p. 6; Gary Klintworth, ‘The precedent for action,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 7 September 1999, p. 15.
101
Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order, pp. 72-74.
102
Cotton, ‘The East Timor commitment and its consequences,’ p. 222; Joanne Gray, ‘Internal conflict in the US ship of state slows decision on troops,’ The Australian Financial Review, 8 September 1999, p. 10.
security between them.103 In particular, the Pentagon was reluctant to become involved at a time when they were already heavily committed to the conflict in Kosovo, and when no vital US interests seemed at risk.
On the other hand there was more support from within the State Department, particularly from the Assistant Secretary responsible for Indonesia, Stanley Roth, who threatened Indonesia with a peacekeeping deployment even before the ballot results were known.104 Ultimately, such voices prevailed within the administration, with the decision to support a peacekeeping force made public on September 9th. Apart from the US interest in regional stability, an argument was made that the Australian alliance itself was at stake. One official supporting intervention argued that
We don’t have a dog running in the East Timor race, but we have a very big