DREW

PAPERS

THE

Angus L. Porter

Wing Commander, Royal Australian Air Force

27

Windows

of Opportunity

East Timor and Australian Strategic

Decision Making (1975–1999)
Air University

Steven L. Kwast, Lieutenant General, Commander and President

School of Advanced Air and Space Studies

Thomas D. McCarthy, Colonel, Commandant and Dean
AIR UNIVERSITY

SCHOOL OF ADVANCED AIR AND SPACE STUDIES

Windows of Opportunity

East Timor and Australian Strategic Decision Making 

(1975–1999)

Angus L. Porter

Wing Commander, Royal Australian Air Force

Drew Paper No. 27

Air University Press

Air Force Research Institute

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama
Project Editor

Dr. Ernest Allan Rockwell

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Porter, Angus L., 1975– author. | Air University (U.S.).

 Press, publisher. | Air University (U.S.). School of Advanced Air

 and Space Studies, issuing body.

Title: Windows of opportunity : East Timor and Australian

 strategic decision making (1975–1999) / Angus L. Porter.

Other titles: East Timor and Australian strategic decision

 making (1975–1999) | Drew paper ; no. 27.

Description: First edition. | Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama :

 Air University Press, Air Force Research Institute, [2016]

 | Series: Drew paper, ISSN 1941-3785 ; no. 27 | At head

 of title: Air University, School of Advanced Air and Space

 Studies. | Includes bibliographical references.

Identifiers: LCCN 2016051207| ISBN 9781585662654 |

 ISBN 1585662658

Subjects: LCSH: Timor-Leste—History—Autonomy and

 independence movements. | Peacekeeping forces, Australian—

 Timor-Leste. | Australia—Strategic aspects. | Australia—

 Foreign relations—Indonesia. | Indonesia—Foreign relations—

 Australia.

Classification: LCC DS649.6 .P67 2016 | DDC 959.87/032—

 dc23 | SUDOC D 301.26/29:27

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016051207

Published by Air University Press in November 2016

Disclaimer

Opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or 

implied within are solely those of the author and do not necessarily 

represent the views of the Royal Australian Air Force, Air Command 

and Staff College, the Air Force Research Institute, Air University, 

the United States Air Force, the Department of Defense, or any 

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unlimited.

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iii

The Drew Papers

The Drew Papers are award-winning master’s theses selected for publication by 

the School of Advanced Air and Space Studies (SAASS), Maxwell AFB, Alabama. 

This series of papers commemorates the distinguished career of Col Dennis 

“Denny” Drew, USAF, retired. In 30 years at Air University, Colonel Drew served 

on the Air Command and Staff College faculty, directed the Airpower Research 

Institute, and served as dean, associate dean, and professor of military strategy at 

SAASS. Colonel Drew is one of the Air Force’s most extensively published authors 

and an international speaker in high demand. He has lectured to over 100,000 

students at Air University as well as to foreign military audiences. In 1985 he 

received the Muir S. Fairchild Award for outstanding contributions to Air 

University. In 2003 Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands made him a Knight in the 

Order of Orange-Nassau for his contributions to education in the Royal Netherlands Air Force.

The Drew Papers are dedicated to promoting the understanding of air and 

space power theory and application. These studies are published by the Air 

University Press and broadly distributed throughout the US Air Force, the 

Department of Defense, and other governmental organizations, as well as to 

leading scholars, selected institutions of higher learning, public-policy institutes, 

and the media.
Please send inquiries or comments to

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iv
v

Contents

About the Author vii

Acknowledgments ix

Abstract xi

1 Introduction 1

 2 Theoretical Foundations 5

International Relations Theory5

Small-Power Strategy8

Historical Overview: East Timor9

 3 The 1975 Indonesian Invasion 17

Indonesian Policy 17

Portuguese Policy 19

United States Policy 21

Australian Policy 24

United Nations Policy 27

Analysis 29

 4 The Cold War Years, 1976–89 35

Events in East Timor 35

Indonesian Policy 37

Portuguese Policy 39

United States Policy 40

Australian Policy 41

United Nations Policy 43

Analysis 44

 5 The Post–Cold War Years, 1989–99 51

Events in East Timor 51

Indonesian Policy 53

Portuguese Policy 55

United States Policy 56

Australian Policy 59

United Nations Policy 62

Window of Opportunity 64

Analysis 67
vi

 6 Conclusions 75

Bibliography 79

CONTENTS
vii

About the Author

WGCDR Angus L. Porter is a Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF) pilot. 

After completing Pilot’s Course in 1999, he was posted to 10 Squadron at 

RAAF Edinburgh, where he qualified as an AP-3C Orion maritime patrol 

aircraft pilot. During a five-year posting at 10 Squadron, Wing Commander 

Porter conducted operational deployments in support of border protection 

operations as well as Australian Defence Force operations in the Middle East. 

In 2004 he was selected as aide-de-camp to the governor-general. In 2005 he 

was posted to 34 Squadron in Canberra as a VIP Operations Pilot. Promoted 

to squadron leader in 2007, he remained at 34 Squadron as a flight commander 

until 2010. Wing Commander Porter completed a staff tour at the Directorate 

of Personnel–Air Force, before attending the USAF Air Command and Staff 

College in 2012–13 and the USAF School of Advanced Air and Space Studies 

in 2013–14.

ix

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Dr. Everett Dolman for guiding me through this 

study. His knowledge, guidance, and analytical insights were invaluable. I 

would also like to thank my family; their patience and understanding throughout this process was without equal.

xi

Abstract

This study comprises an analysis of Australia’s involvement in the 1975–99 

East Timor crisis. Using a realist lens to analyze international decision making, 

this study examines how global and regional power dynamics have influenced 

Australia’s pursuit of the national interest. Specifically, the study addresses the 

question: Why did Australian support for military intervention in East Timor 

take 25 years to develop?

To answer the question, the paper is divided into three key periods of East 

Timorese history: the 1975 Indonesian invasion, the Cold War era (1976–89), 

and the post–Cold War era (1989–99). These periods cover major shifts in 

great-power dynamics and significant changes in Australia’s strategic outlook. 

More specifically, they represent periods of Australian dependence on greatpower patronage and periods where Australia leveraged national power to 

alter the direction of Southeast Asian security.

The study concludes that hegemonic behavior is the primary influence in 

Southeast Asia. From 1975 to 1999, a US-backed Indonesian government 

brutally dominated East Timor, while Australia looked on with complicity. 

While initially condemning the Indonesian invasion, Australia understood it 

lacked the capacity to intervene successfully in the crisis. A succession of 

prime ministers then chose pragmatism over confrontation, pursuing improved 

strategic and economic ties with Indonesia. This trend continued for more 

than two decades until the Asian financial crisis shifted regional dynamics, 

opening a window of opportunity for Australia to intervene in East Timor. 

1

Chapter 1

Introduction

The 2013 Australian Defence White Paper stated that, “Australia has a strategic 

interest in an international order that restrains aggression.”1

 This interest is 

especially evident in the Asia–Pacific region. Australian military involvement 

in Korea, Vietnam, the Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea, Malaysia, Indonesia, Iraq, and Afghanistan supports this assertion. However, following the 

1999 United Nations (UN) East Timor intervention, reports regarding the 

immediate success of the mission concealed the two-and-a-half decades of 

inaction preceding the deployment. In those decades, approximately 250,000 

East Timorese, or roughly one-third of the population, were killed.

The 1999 UN mission ended one of the world’s most horrific per-capita 

abuses of human rights. Those involved in the mission were rightly applauded 

for their efforts, and the mutual admiration between Australia and the UN 

was justified within the context of ending Indonesian atrocities in 1999. This 

paper, however, investigates the decades of neglect prior to 1999, asking why 

Australia—with a record of defending freedom, democracy, and human 

rights—ignored East Timor’s security for so long. Specifically, it addresses the 

question: Why did Australian support for military intervention in East Timor 

take more than 25 years to develop? The paper is divided into three key periods 

of East Timorese history: the Indonesian 1975 invasion, the Cold War era 

(1975–89), and the post–Cold War era (1989–99).

A realist lens is used to assess the international relations that influenced the 

Australian strategy for East Timor. To aid the analysis, a set of criteria is 

applied to the three key periods of East Timorese history. These criteria address 

Australia’s capacity to influence other states, provide solutions to international 

problems, and subsequently execute military operations in support of those 

solutions. Drawing on this analysis of Australia’s decision making from 1975 

to 1999, the conclusion is offered that Australia had no capacity to influence 

the East Timor situation until 1999. As the Australian government continues 

to manage a multitude of Southeast Asian relationships and alliances, it is 

worth reflecting on how international relations have affected Australia’s options 

in the past, particularly in strife-torn Asia–Pacific nations such as East Timor.

The primary limitation of this analysis is the single case study used to derive 

broad conclusions regarding Australian decision making. While a single case 

study normally offers only limited analytical material, the 25-year duration of 

the East Timor crisis compensates for lack of diversity. The East Timor crisis 
INTRODUCTION

2

spanned decades of shifts in the international-relations environment: the 

Cold War, the end of the Vietnam War, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the 

collapse of the Soviet Union that brought about the end of the Cold War, and 

the international interventions in the 1991 Iraq War, Kosovo, and Bosnia. The 

analysis is focused primarily on the international relations among Indonesia, 

the United States, and Australia, using the East Timor situation to focus the 

analysis. The timeframe covers the policies of two Indonesian presidents, five 

Australian prime ministers, and five US presidents. Their interactions highlight the dynamic nature of international relations, and their global policies 

reinforce the conclusions of the East Timor study. In sum, despite the case 

study being singular, the conclusions regarding Australian decision making are 

strengthened by the duration of the East Timor crisis (1975–99).

One assumption of this case study is the presumption regarding key players 

in the crisis. Within the UN construct, there were dozens of countries attempting to influence the East Timor situation. However, this analysis focuses on 

the United Kingdom, the United Statees, Portugal, Australia, Indonesia, and 

the institutions of the UN and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations 

(ASEAN ). There were many more influences, including several African nations 

experiencing their own forms of decolonization. The Japanese government 

lobbied heavily in the UN for East Timor’s right to self-determination and, in 

1999, participated in their first offshore military operation since World War 

II. In all, many countries were influencing the East Timor situation. The countries selected for this analysis are, in my opinion, the major players involved 

in shaping the outcome.

This analysis and assessment utilizes the realist lens to explain the interactions between states. Realism, liberalism, and constructivism are all valid 

tools with which to analyze international politics. All the approaches are useful, and all have their limitations. The realist lens, however, best explains the 

dominant behavior of the Indonesians and Americans. Additionally, the 

weakness of the UN in this case study suggests Hedley Bull was correct: institutions follow a pattern of behavior sustaining the primary goals of the biggest 

players.2

 It is evident that between 1975 and 1999, the UN’s determination to 

intervene in East Timor was no match for Indonesia’s ability to resist the institution. The UN has its purpose, but in the international system there is no 

higher power than the state.

Finally, applying the three assessment criteria to additional case studies 

may draw more robust conclusions regarding Australian decision making. 

Examining past operations such as the Malayan Emergency (1948–60), Konfrontasi 

(1963–66), or possible future confrontations such as West Papua would be a 
INTRODUCTION

3

worthy research project in its own right or offer a potential area for expanding 

this analysis.

Notes

1. Department of Defence, Defence Force White Paper: 2013, Australian government white 

paper (Canberra: Department of Defence, 2013), 26, http://www.defence.gov.au/whitepaper/2013

/docs/wp_2013_web.pdf.

2. Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics, 4th ed. (New 

York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 8.

5

Chapter 2

Theoretical Foundations

International Relations Theory

The case presented here follows a long-standing pattern in international 

relations. A full exposition of this pattern, and my interpretation of it, informs 

the analysis that follows. Neorealist and neoliberal theorists agree that states 

exist in a system of international anarchy, differing only in their solutions to 

the problems of anarchy. Within this anarchy, realists assert that states pursue 

self-interest, relentlessly seeking opportunities to increase their power relative to others. There is no recognized higher authority to govern them peacefully or provide them with security. Institutions such as the UN are established by powerful states for the benefit of powerful states. Hegemons know 

that institutional laws and norms, even when enforced upon themselves, will 

extend their power in the long run. Smaller states participate because being 

on the outside is worse than not participating at all. Subsovereign institutions 

may have collective security attributed to them; however, they are just the first 

port of call in great-power diplomacy. For example, South Korea and Kuwait 

exist in their present form due to US-led UN action. Would they exist without 

the UN? If we accept that great powers decide the outcome of international 

engagements, then the answer is yes. The United States demonstrated this 

great-power phenomenon in 2003. When a suitable UN resolution failed to 

materialize, US president George H. W. Bush (1989–93) declared, “Reliance 

by the United States on further diplomatic and other peaceful means alone 

will [not] . . . adequately protect the national security of the United States.” 

Failing to garner the support of the UN, Bush subsequently organized a coalition of the willing for the invasion of Iraq.1

Great powers control international decision making. This realist view, outlined by Robert Gilpin in War and Change in World Politics, states that, “In 

every international system the dominant powers . . . organize and control the 

processes of interactions among the elements of the system.”2

 John 

Mearsheimer, citing Immanuel Kant, takes this one step further, “It is the 

desire of every state, or of its ruler, to arrive at a condition of perpetual peace 

by conquering the whole world.” Mearsheimer argues this guarantees survival, 

and survival is the main game.3

 This explains why states dominating the system 

continue to strive for more power and why small states have aspirations 

beyond their stations. Power is national interest at the innate level: every state 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

6

is compelled by the desire to survive and then thrive. All states understand 

this; the more powerful they are, the more likely they are to succeed. A state’s 

quest for power is therefore relentless.

Power is also how states differentiate their capabilities. Power is the sum of 

military strength and economic potential, but it is relative. For example, the 

military and economic strength of the United Kingdom in 1880 was enormous. One hundred years later, in the midst of the Cold War, this strength 

had increased enormously in both economic and military terms. Notwithstanding, the comparative expansion of the Soviet Union and the United 

States had overtaken it, rendering the United Kingdom’s great-power status 

obsolete. States are sensitive to these relative changes in power because it alters 

their chances of survival and prosperity.

Power represents the potential of a state—the capabilities it has or is likely 

to acquire in the future. Gilpin believes that power is the “probability that one 

actor within a social relationship will be in a position to carry out his own will 

despite resistance, regardless of the basis on which this probability rests.”4

 The 

key term here is resistance. The state with greater power can overcome the 

resistance of another. It will do this by using force or the threat of force.5

 Gilpin 

also argues that a reputation for maintaining power leads to prestige—where 

resistance is unlikely. Prestige is the “probability that a command with a given 

specific content will be obeyed by a given group of persons.”6

 Prestige is generally what great powers use to influence the international system; they seldom encounter resistance from smaller powers, and rarely need to exert force.

Today, there are over 190 countries striving for more power than they have. 

Great powers seek the prize of global hegemony because they believe it within 

their reach. These powers will strive for this prize until the costs of doing so 

become prohibitive and their countries go into decline. The collapse of the 

Roman Empire and disintegration of the Soviet Union are examples of this 

phenomenon. Small powers do not seek hegemony, at least in the short term. 

Such an overreach risks squandering the limited power they have managed to 

accumulate and retain; however, small powers continue seeking more power 

than they have.

Great powers dominate and stabilize the international system by using a 

combination of power and prestige, complemented with force. They determine the outcome of all conflicts by involvement, ambivalence, or indecision. 

When great powers are indecisive, it is usually due to ambivalence or indifference. No small power goes to war without first checking what the regional 

great power thinks.7

 Prior to World War II, for example, this check was complicated for small powers in Europe as there were five great powers to 

consider: Britain, France, Germany, the Soviet Union, and the United States. 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

7

After World War II, this process became simplified down to two. The collapse 

of the Soviet Union reduced it to one.

Great powers determine outcomes in international conflict. They do not, 

however, make decisions in a vacuum. Their decision making is affected by 

the smaller powers around them. The meddling behavior of over 190 countries 

striving for power alters the cost-benefit calculus for a given great-power 

transaction. Small states alter this calculus inadvertently or intentionally 

through their diplomacy. Great powers will always act in their national interest; 

however, the actions of small states can alter great-power assessment of 

national interest.

Power is relative; however, the ability of small states to leverage results 

through diplomacy means power is also relational. When pursuing their selfinterest, small powers know that judiciously leveraged diplomacy with a great 

power will influence the outcome. The closer the relationship between the 

small and great power, the greater is the potential to influence the outcome. A 

simple example highlights this. Two small powers in a region have equal 

power: countries A and B. There is one great power in the region. If country 

A is considering influencing country B with power, prestige, or force, then the 

great power will need to make a decision regarding its behavior. The great 

power will either support country A, remain indifferent, or support country 

B. Country A will check what this position is. If country A is supported, it will 

be victorious. If the great power is indifferent, the situation becomes a 

regional struggle between countries A and B.

At any stage, players in the regional struggle may use diplomacy to influence 

the great power’s decision. In this case, the small country with the greatest 

relational power or status will exert the most influence on the great power. For 

example, it may argue a previous alliance or coalition participation deserves 

reciprocation or that the regional security environment affects the great power’s 

global policies. In all cases, small powers will only influence the checking process when the great power is undecided. This may be a period before the great 

power has decided to support an action, or it may be an enduring period 

where the great power remains ambivalent or indifferent. In a region with one 

dominant great power, the ability to use diplomacy to move that great power 

away from its indecision will ultimately decide victory.

By influencing the checking process, the small power binds the great power 

to its self-interest. This binding has multiple benefits, helping determine the 

outcome of the struggle and lowering the costs of fighting it. The use of binding 

power, however, represents a diplomatic gamble. The great power may disengage 

at any point, including during a conflict, with disastrous consequences. South 

Vietnam experienced this when binding US power to fight North Vietnam. 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

8

Further, when outside power is sourced, the inclusion may unexpectedly 

escalate a regional conflict. In 1950 South Korea used US power to repel its 

northern invaders. The Korean War subsequently escalated into a small-scale 

hegemonic conflict, as Chinese and Soviet forces entered the fray and clashed 

with the US military.8

If a conflict is based on preexisting cleavages along ideological, ethnic, or 

religious grounds, the inclusion of borrowed power may also divide the 

region. Israel’s Six-Day War (1967), War of Attrition (1969–70), and Yom 

Kippur War (1973) began as conflicts between Israel and Egypt. During the 

conflicts, Syria entered the fray on the Arab side, and the Soviets unexpectedly 

intervened to counter US-supplied Israeli air superiority. These cases reinforce the notion that when considering binding power to a national interest, 

the potential for regional escalation must be weighed with rigor before 

accepting the responsibility and inherent risk.

Small-Power Strategy

All states have the same goals: pursue self-interest and acquire power. 

Small powers encounter two problems when pursuing more power: they lack 

the power to impose their will on the international system, and they must 

promote their national interest within an environment established and controlled by greater powers. Since great powers dominate the international system, 

small powers often have only fleeting opportunities to influence international 

relations.

To be successful, small powers can attempt to align a great power’s national 

interest with their own. Israel is good example. The establishment of the state 

of Israel realigned US self-interest in the Middle East. States in the region 

understand that a coordinated attack on Israel will result in US power 

entering the region on behalf of Israel. Binding power is a difficult process but 

is worth the diplomatic investment if the short-term added power facilitates 

long-term benefits.

Binding power is a diplomatic art that enjoys varying degrees of success. In 

1940 pleas from Britain for US involvement in Europe initially failed. At this 

point in the war, US isolationism was in America’s national interest—thus, 

not aligned with British national interest. Not until Nazi Germany looked 

poised to become the regional hegemon—after the fall of Poland, Denmark, 

and Norway—did the US attitude move away from isolationism and toward 

indecision. Subsequently, when Germany showed the potential to dominate 

Europe, US national interest moved toward containing this potential hegemon. 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

9

With the fall of the Low Countries and France, the United States began to supply 

Britain and the Soviet Union with massive amounts of war-making materiel. 

The attack on Pearl Harbor then realigned US national interest with British 

national interest. It is not surprising that on hearing the Pearl Harbor news 

British prime minister Winston Churchill was jubilant, believing Britain 

would now win the war.9

In 2014, little has changed. The opposition in Syria, for example, wants to 

bind great power to remove the Bashar al-Assad regime. Its pleas are falling 

on deaf ears. Why? No great power has a clear interest in any particular outcome. When the great powers remain ambivalent, the small powers fight on 

their own and continue to argue why supporting their cause will satisfy a 

great power’s self-interest.

For small powers, three key criteria influence the achievement of greatpower support. These criteria are: (1) the capacity to realign established greatpower policy with small-power national interest, (2) presenting viable solutions

or plans to effectively pursue this interest, and (3) the capacity to execute

combat missions in support of those solutions. The first two criteria are 

essentially diplomatic—arguing the case and offering a solution. The last criteria 

focuses on military capabilities—the reputation of the small power for using 

force. In other words, what great-power military contribution will be required 

to support the solution—a small UN or coalition contribution or unilateral 

provision of tens of thousands of troops? A failure to adequately meet the 

criteria places a burden on the request and reduces the likelihood of greatpower participation. If all three criteria are satisfactorily met, borrowed power 

is likely to be realized.

This process was evident in the diplomatic and military situation in Southeast 

Asia in the last quarter of the twentieth century. Between 1975 and 1999, the 

US position on the Indonesian invasion of East Timor moved from support of 

Indonesia in 1975 to condemnation of Indonesia in 1999, culminating with 

US backing of an Australian-led intervention in support of the East Timorese. 

As a result of this reversal, East Timor, which lost its independence in 1975, 

regained it in 2002. This paper comprises an investigation into why this reversal 

occurred, what role Australia played, and ultimately, why Australian support 

for military intervention in East Timor took more than 20 years to develop.

Historical Overview: East Timor

The story of the East Timorese is a centuries-old struggle for independence. The eastern half of the Timor Island came under Portuguese colonial 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

10

rule in 1701; however, the island had long been the scene of imperial rivalry 

in the region. Well known for its natural resources, Timor had long been integrated into Asian trading networks that were commercially tied to India 

and China.10 East Timor’s economic value had transformed it into a sixteenthand seventeenth-century battleground among Dutch, Portuguese, Spanish, 

and English imperialists. The Dutch managed to drive all their rivals out of 

the eastern archipelago except for the Portuguese, who maintained a foothold 

in East Timor. The East Timorese fought all their invaders, as well as anyone 

supporting the invaders through the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth 

centuries. The fight for independence is the story of East Timor. 

The Portuguese Empire was the first to claim the eastern side of Timor. The 

empire encompassed what are now 53 different sovereign states. By the sixteenth 

century, the Portuguese had established colonies along the African coast, the 

Middle East, India, and Asia, making them a powerful people. Both the Dutch 

and the Portuguese maintained weak holds on their respective sides of Timor 

for centuries, continuing their dispute until The Hague Court drew a border 

between the empires in 1913—the Portuguese retaining the small enclave of 

Oecussi in the west and the islands of Atauro and Jaco.11

The East Timorese are a unique population in a huge archipelago. Portuguese influence and geography shielded the local population from the Javanese/

Islamic principles to the west and north. Today, Indonesia is the most populous 

Muslim nation on earth, yet neither Hinduism nor Islam reached the remote 

Portuguese side of Timor Island.12 Under Portuguese rule, the East Timorese 

had been mostly animist; however, during the Indonesian occupation the 

Catholic Church became a place of refuge from Muslim oppressors. By the 

time international help arrived in 1999, more than 80 percent of the population classified themselves as Christians.13 Today, that number is approximately 

98 percent.14 There are also few similarities between the language of Bahasa 

Indonesia and the commonly spoken Tetum language of the East Timorese.15

Differences in the style of Dutch and Portuguese colonial rule meant the gap 

between colonial cultures was substantial. The two sides of Timor Island had 

little interaction; they were different provinces and different people. For hundreds 

of years, the divisive effect on Timor Island’s population was evident to anyone visiting.16

By the start of the twentieth century, East Timor was a neglected colonial 

outpost. The Portuguese did little to develop East Timor, and prior to World 

War I, it was considered the most economically backward colony in the region. 

World War I left Portugal in a dire economic position, and it was surprising 

Lisbon managed to maintain its East Timor outpost at all. By the start of 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

11

World War II, East Timor’s capital, Dili, had no electricity, no water supply, no 

paved roads, no telephone service, and no wharf for handling cargo.17

Allied strategy during World War II shattered the fragile nation of East 

Timor. When war was declared against Japan, the Allies used the island as 

part of a defensive line against Japanese movement south. Allied troops combined with Timorese soldiers defending both sides of Timor against the 

invading Japanese. In all, the Japanese attack and occupation killed an estimated 

60,000 East Timorese, at times pitting the Timorese recruited by the Japanese 

against Timorese recruited by the Allies.18 As had happened so often, the 

Timorese were caught in a struggle between global powers, suffering horrific 

humanitarian consequences.19

Australia’s role in the Timor campaign was initially successful, due in part 

to the selfless contribution by the Timorese locals. The Japanese landed over 

20,000 troops on the island. They fought against a small Allied force that, 

aided by the Timorese, fought the Japanese advance for 12 months before 

overwhelming numbers forced the Australians to evacuate the island. As former 

Australian consul to East Timor, James Dunn explains, the Japanese then took 

vengeance on the East Timorese, “In areas where the Australians had been 

active, villages were razed to the ground and whole families wiped out.”20

Australian veterans from the Timor campaign have long been grateful for the 

help they received on the island of Timor.21

After the war, the Dutch East Indies transitioned to independence while East 

Timor returned to Portuguese rule. Despite talk of East Timorese independence, the devastation incurred during the war meant the independence movement had largely been wiped out. Across the border, Indonesia was born under 

the so-called “guided democracy” of President Sukarno (1947–66).22 Sukarno’s 

version of democracy closely resembled a dictatorship. He immediately caught 

the ire of Western democracies while attempting to forge a postwar Indonesia–

Cambodia–China–North Korea–North Vietnam communist axis.23 Under 

Sukarno, Indonesian relations with Western nations rapidly deteriorated.

In Indonesia, Sukarno’s rule was divisively unpopular. The leader’s support 

base was divided into two ideologically opposed camps: the military and the 

Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). There was inherent volatility between 

the two, and the military grew increasingly suspicious of Sukarno’s ruling 

style.24 Particular sources of friction were the president’s alliance with China 

and the military confrontation with Malaysia, Konfrontasi (1963–66), during 

which British and Australian soldiers clashed with Indonesian troops.25 Despite 

internal and external grievances, Sukarno continued his broad policies favoring 

the PKI. However, as the Indonesian economy suffered, discontent grew, and 

Sukarno’s generals moved against him. After a successful coup d’état, the 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

12

military assumed control of the country under the leadership of General 

Suharto, who became president of Indonesia on 27 March 1968.26

The Western reaction to the change of leadership was celebration, particularly 

in Australia and the United States. Western leaders considered it remarkable that, 

in the midst of the Cold War, General Suharto and the Indonesian National 

Army (TNI)27 had usurped the powerful PKI.28 The result, while politically 

positive, was morally reprehensible. In achieving its objectives, the TNI’s 

tactics were brutal.29 America’s Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) concluded 

that the TNI’s subsequent pogrom was one of the worst mass murders of the 

twentieth century—approximately 800,000 communists were slaughtered.30

Despite the gross abuse of human rights, Washington and Canberra fully supported Suharto’s actions.31

In a few short years, Suharto had transformed the Southeast Asian security 

environment. After Sukarno’s overthrow, Indonesia developed into a Westernfriendly and stable Southeast Asian country.32 From Canberra and Washington’s 

points of view, the future with Indonesia looked positive. Relations grew 

steadily closer between 1966 and 1974. The isolated Portuguese outpost of 

East Timor, in the middle of the archipelago and only 300 miles north of 

Australia, existed peacefully within its surroundings. Suharto was not focused 

on the tiny nation, and neither were politicians in Canberra or Washington. 33

In sum, the United States and Australia turned blind eyes to the massacre of 

Indonesians in 1965–66, signaling a recurring theme within the archipelago: 

gross abuse of human rights were tolerated provided such action was associated with the broader goal of containing Cold War communism.34

Almost a decade later, the Portuguese Carnation Revolution of 1974 

left a power vacuum in peaceful East Timor. The Lisbon coup d’état was 

relatively uneventful. Military leaders dedicated to democracy and decolonization quickly overthrew the fascist Portuguese government.35 As Portugal commenced the chaotic transition from dictatorship to democracy, 

it began immediately withdrawing from Portuguese colonies. This left 

East Timor isolated and bereft of governance.36 Still, the departure of Portuguese authority created an air of excited anticipation in East Timor; the centurieslong struggle for independence suddenly appeared a possibility.

The power vacuum in East Timor triggered the creation of three distinct 

and divided political movements. The Revolutionary Front for an Independent 

East Timor (Fretilin) desired immediate independence and came to symbolize 

the fight for freedom in East Timor. Two other parties also emerged: the 

Timorese Democratic Union (UDT), desirous of a slower process of achieving 

independence and the maintenance of ties with Portugal; and, Apodeti 

(Timorese Popular Democratic Association), which favored immediate 
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

13

integration with Indonesia.37 Figure 1 displays the evolution of the East 

Timor resistance movements. Despite the various and changing abbreviations, the common influence throughout was the Fretilin organization. Fretilin 

was the symbol of East Timor resistance, always dominating the internal 

machinations of the primary resistance movement. Falintil is important as 

well, its members were the armed guerrilla movement supporting Fretilin.

Clandestine

Anti-Colonial Group,

Early 1970s

ASDT

1974

CRRN

1981

CNRM

1987

CNRT*

1998

Fretilin*

1974

UDT*

1974

Falintil*

Aug. 1975

DRET

Nov. 28-Dec.7, 1975

1974 Decolonization Process

Many other

smaller groups *Asterisk denotes

that the

organization is

still active

today.

ASDT—Timorese Social Democratic Association [PRIVATE]

Fretilin—Revolutionary Front for an independent East Timor

UDT—Union of Democratic Timorese

DRET—Democratic Republic of East Timor

Falintil—Armed Forces for the National Ligeration of East Timor

CRRN—National Council of Revolutionary Resistance

CNRM—National Council of Maubere Resistance

CNRT—National Council of Timore Resistance

Figure 1. The origins of the National Council of Timorese Resistance. (Source: 

Richard Tanter, Mark Selden, and Stephen R. Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet 

Flowers: East Timor, Indonesia, and the World Community [Lanham, MD: Rowman 

& Littlefield Publishers, 2001], 21.)
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

14

Through numerous twists of fate Fretilin’s independence struggle would 

cause yet another bloodbath in the archipelago. Fretilin, the dominant political 

party in East Timor, was in essence a socialist movement. However, Indonesia 

and subsequently the international community labeled them communists.38

There is some evidence suggesting Fretilin subscribed to some Marxist ideology. 

It did not, however, deserve the communist label within the volatile Cold War 

context. Following centuries of imperialism, Fretilin’s goals were simply to 

unite East Timor and improve the population’s standard of living, primarily 

by focusing on agricultural production. Its socialist leanings differed little 

from those in the United States, the United Kingdom, and Australia, countries 

that have many government programs derived from socialist principles. Fretilin 

had no intention of participating in the Cold War spread of communism. But 

the communist label stuck, and for the international community, this partly 

explained the brutal policies of East Timor’s Indonesian neighbors.

Over the 24 years from 1975 to 1999, the East Timorese would be subjected 

to a gross breach of human rights. According to Portuguese estimates, East 

Timor’s population was more than 650,000 in 1974.39 Within six months of 

the Indonesian invasion, an estimated 60,000 people were killed—roughly 10 

percent of the population.40 In 1979, an Indonesian church organization 

reported the population had declined from almost 690,000 in 1974, to under 

330,000 four years later.41 While many of the missing East Timorese had fled 

across the border to West Timor, approximately 200,000 are estimated to have 

died at the hands of their Indonesian invaders or died of starvation or disease 

in Indonesian-run refugee camps.42 Unlike the Indonesian communist purge 

of 1965–66, there would be immediate UN condemnation of Indonesian 

actions in East Timor. Over the subsequent decades, UN resolutions urging 

an Indonesian withdrawal would pass ad nauseam. However, without UN 

troops to enforce the resolutions, Indonesia simply ignored them and continued 

to abuse the East Timorese. In 1999 an Australian-led UN mission was finally 

sent to East Timor to restore order. This paper continues with an investigation 

into why Australian support for military intervention in East Timor took 25 

years to develop.

Notes

1. “Bush Officially Notifies Congress: Iraq Diplomacy Has Failed,” Voice of America, 26 October 

2009, http://www.voanews.com/content/a-13-a-2003-03-19-71-bush-66311537/542795.html.

2. Robert Gilpin, War and Change in World Politics (New York: Cambridge University 

Press, 1981), 29.

3. John J. Mearsheimer, The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (New York: Norton, 2001), 34.

4. Gilpin, War and Change in World Politics, 30.
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

15

5. Force is kinetic—the use of violence to damage or destroy. 

6. Gilpin, War and Change in World Politics, 30.

7. Hedley Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics, 4th ed. (New 

York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 212.

8. Xiaoming Zhang, Red Wings over the Yalu: China, the Soviet Union, and the Air War in 

Korea (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002), 138.

9. Josephine Sykes, Monica Halpin, and Victor Brown, “Sir Winston Churchill: A Biography,” 

Churchill College (website), edited by Allen Packwood, n.d., https://www.chu.cam.ac.uk/archives

/collections/churchill-papers/churchill-biography/.

10. Constâncio Pinto and Matthew Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance (Toronto: J. 

Lorimer & Co., 1997), 3–4.

11. Ibid., 4.

12. James Dunn, East Timor: A Rough Passage to Independence (Double Bay, NSW, Australia: 

Longueville Books, 2003), 3.

13. Ibid., 298.

14. East Timor Government, “Culture in East Timor,” East Timor Government website, 

2012, http://www.easttimorgovernment.com/culture.htm.

15. Dunn, East Timor, 3.

16. Ibid., 11–12.

17. Ibid., 18.

18. Matthew Jardine, East Timor: Genocide in Paradise, 2nd edition (Monroe, ME: Odonian 

Press, 2002), 21–22.

19. Dunn, East Timor, 20.

20. Ibid., 19–20.

21. Ben Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide: Australia, the USA, East Timor, and 

the Aborigines,” Critical Asian Studies 34, no. 2 (2002), 167.

22. P. B. R. Carey and G. Carter Bentley, East Timor at the Crossroads: The Forging of a Nation

(Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1995), 24–25.

23. Dino A. Brugioni, Eyes in the Sky: Eisenhower, the CIA, and Cold War Aerial Espionage

(Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2010), 280–281.

24. Peter Dale Scott, “The United States and the Overthrow of Sukarno, 1965–1967,” Pacific 

Affairs 58, no. 2 (Summer 1985): 239–64.

25. Paul M. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses: Australia and the Indonesian 

Annexation of East Timor, 1963–76,” Critical Asian Studies 33, no. 2 (2001), 182.

26. Scott, “United States and the Overthrow of Sukarno.”

27. In 1947 the Indonesian army became the Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI) or the Indonesian 

National Army.

28. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 187.

29. Geoffrey Robinson, “If You Leave Us Here, We Will Die”: How Genocide Was Stopped in 

East Timor (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010), 42.

30. Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide,” 186.

31. Ibid., 170.

32. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 182.

33. Ibid., 187.

34. Richard Tanter, Mark Selden, and Stephen R. Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers: 

East Timor, Indonesia, and the World Community (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2001), 173.
THEORETICAL FOUNDATIONS

16

35. Dunn, East Timor, 13.

36. Ibid., 82.

37. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 13.

38. David Kilcullen, The Accidental Guerrilla: Fighting Small Wars in the Midst of a Big One

(New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 208.

39. Dunn, East Timor, 3.

40. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 139.

41. Dunn, East Timor, 277.

42. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 139.
17

Chapter 3

The 1975 Indonesian Invasion

The 1975 Indonesian invasion of East Timor was a traumatic event for the 

Timorese population. Tragically, it was the result of state leadership in Indonesia, Portugal, the United Nations, East Timor, Australia, and the United 

States acting in accordance with their individual interpretations of the longterm interests of the region. In short, all parties wanted a stable and peaceful 

eastern side of the Timor Island. In the political vacuum left behind by Portugal, the conflicting views on how to achieve this stability led rapidly to a civil 

war, followed by a state-on-state conflict between the newly independent East 

Timorese and their powerful Indonesian neighbors. What no one could predict, possibly even Indonesian President Suharto, was the viciousness of the 

Indonesian military tactics used against the East Timorese. This failure meant 

that pre-1975 decisions regarding the future of East Timor were based predominantly on fears of communism in the region, not on any threat posed by 

the East Timorese themselves.

Indonesian Policy

Indonesians believed East Timor was rightfully theirs. The tiny Portuguese 

colonial outpost of East Timor sat in the middle of the Indonesian Archipelago, dwarfed by over 6,000 inhabited Indonesian islands. The Portuguese empire had poorly administered East Timor and, despite desires for independence, the local population had been kept largely silent by its dictatorial 

European authority. The 1974 Portuguese revolution then created a vacuum 

of governance in East Timor. Locals perceived the development as opening 

the door for East Timor independence; however, the Indonesian president 

perceived otherwise—that this was an opportunity for unification.

Suharto argued that an independent East Timor would destabilize the region. He believed the fractured and divided East Timorese were unlikely to 

produce an effective governing body. Economically, they produced little and 

would need the support of the international community to survive. Defense 

was also an issue. East Timor’s military was organized and commanded by the 

Portuguese. Suharto feared an independent East Timor would fall prey to the 

highest international bidder, the inherent instability possibly affording a communist country a strategic foothold in Southeast Asia. In 1974 Suharto expressed this concern to the Australian prime minister, explaining he did not 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

18

want East Timor to become a “thorn in the eye of Australia and a thorn in 

Indonesia’s back.”1

The East Timorese were unable to express their peaceful intentions coherently to the international audience. Despite organizing an embryonic governance structure, local-level political cleavages surfaced as the ideologies of 

the three main East Timorese movements positioned for power. These local 

cleavages developed into a short civil war, primarily fought between the two 

larger movements: Fretilin and UDT. The war not only stalled the internal 

momentum for unification, it also exacerbated the security concerns of the 

Southeast Asian region.

The Fretilin movement emerged victorious from the civil war, earning itself a communist brand in the process. During the war, highly organized 

Fretilin soldiers dominated skirmishes against the UDT forces, which quickly 

fled across the border to West Timor. In Indonesia, the beaten UDT forces 

labeled Fretilin a communist threat. The charge stuck. Indonesian state-run 

Radio Kupang broadcast the East Timor communist story, while the Indonesian free press circulated unfounded articles of a communist Chinese infiltration into the archipelago.2

 Photographs from inside East Timor of nonuniformed fighters brandishing AK-47s contrasted with images of Indonesian 

forces supplied with their US-made hardware. This perception supported the 

rumor that East Timor was not only descending into a chaotic civil war, but 

the Fretilin fighters had also acquired outside backing. The labeling of Fretilin 

as a communist insurgency became an influential factor in the views of the 

regional community, buttressing the concerns of the international audience 

monitoring the situation, particularly Australia and the United States.3

Suharto believed Fretilin threatened regional security. Fretilin was popular 

among the locals, but the Indonesian president believed this support was either coerced or ill conceived. In the absence of Portuguese governance, Suharto became adamant that Indonesia should fill the political vacuum. This 

sentiment was expressed in 1975 when the Indonesian government conveyed 

to Australia that the “only acceptable solution now to the future of Portuguese 

Timor is integration with Indonesia.”4

 Suharto’s main argument was that Indonesia could save an abandoned nation from the scourge of communism. In 

the aftermath of the Indonesian military invasion, Indonesian foreign minister Adam Malik highlighted this attitude, claiming, “50,000 people or perhaps 

80,000 might have been killed during the war in Timor, but we saved 600,000 

of them.”5

Despite the violent invasion, the unification plan for Timor did not initially 

call for overt military force. In 1974 Suharto desired a peaceful resolution. 

Failing that, he favored a covert military option, but only if “absolutely neces-
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

19

sary.”6 It appears that initially Suharto made a genuine effort to incorporate 

East Timor through more peaceful means. He publicly called on Portugal to 

restore order and attempted to influence local politics in favor of integration 

by controversially moving large numbers of Indonesian Timorese into the 

Portuguese half of Timor.7

 In August 1975, as East Timor descended into civil 

war, Suharto could have legitimately argued the Indonesian military was a 

stabilizing force for a disintegrating East Timor. At that time, however, he 

opted against using military force.

Suharto wanted to maintain stable relations with powerful countries outside his archipelago, while unifying Timor within it. In October 1975, as the 

situation deteriorated, Suharto authorized a controversial covert operation 

aimed at delegitimizing the popular Fretilin political movement in the eyes of 

the East Timorese. At its core, Suharto’s covert operation was aimed at facilitating a united Timor “on the basis of the freely expressed wishes of the people 

of Portuguese Timor.”8

 The CIA was aware of the covert operations and compiled reports of Indonesian special forces clashing with Fretilin during this 

timeframe.9

When Fretilin declared East Timor an independent nation on 28 November 1975, the covert plan lost its need for secrecy. The independence declaration angered Suharto and triggered a rapid change from covert military operations to a full-scale military invasion of East Timor. Suharto’s justification 

to the international community was unacceptable political instability on the 

East/West Timor border, combined with the wider threat of a communist insurrection in the region.10 Following the military campaign, Suharto annexed 

East Timor in July 1976.

Portuguese Policy

The Portuguese withdrawal from East Timor was dysfunctional. The coup 

in Lisbon caught the Portuguese political and military establishments in East 

Timor off guard.11 There was subsequently a perception in Dili that the Portuguese pulled out quickly without looking back.12 However, at the international 

level, the Portuguese were scrambling to create an institution to manage the 

decolonization process. This effort mattered little because the East Timorese 

had scant access to information beyond their borders. Perception was reality: 

the East Timorese were in a governance vacuum. 

East Timorese political movements organized themselves into a limited 

form of governance. But they ultimately foundered. Unlike the retracting 

British Empire, leaving in its wake the English parliamentary system and 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

20

English common law, the political system in East Timor largely represented a 

colonial version of the Portuguese dictatorship. When the political power left, 

there was no governmental framework to emulate. Had there been a parliamentary system in place, it may have revealed little ideological difference between the main competing movements—Fretilin and Apodeti—beyond a 

disagreement regarding the timeframe for East Timorese independence. Absent a national forum for discussion and compromise, political fractures 

quickly turned to violence and then civil war. In the process, the fight for independence was hobbled.

There was no external organization capable of intervening and arbitrating 

a settlement. The Portuguese military detachment had depleted to only 70 

combat troops. Prior to 1974, this detachment had trained many East Timorese as noncommissioned soldiers, but these local soldiers realized Portugal was collapsing and attached themselves to the Fretilin movement.13 In far 

greater numbers, the Portuguese military may have provided stability. However, in the midst of the Carnation Revolution, the Portuguese Empire had 

more pressing concerns than the maintenance of security in a distant colony.

Back in Portugal, the 1974 revolution brought democracy and, with it, a 

crisis of governance. In the months of transition between dictatorship and 

democracy, East Timor was abandoned without a bipartisan authority to 

guide its quest for independence. Portugal had the expertise, but the socialist 

political leaders involved with Timor immediately resigned from public life. 

This left Portuguese public servants unfamiliar with East Timor to negotiate 

the de-colonization process.14

As the situation deteriorated, the Southeast Asian region blamed Portugal 

for the instability. A conversation between Australian prime minister Gough 

Whitlam (1972–75) and Malaysian prime minister Tun Abdul Razak (1970–

76) on 15 October 1975 confirmed the poor regional sentiment. Both leaders 

agreed that “Portugal had acted irresponsibly.”15 They discussed the possibility of an Indonesian intervention force to stabilize the region, while dismissing the request from Portugal for an intervention to be mounted by Malaysia 

and Australia. Neither prime minister was willing to oppose Indonesia and 

take on this role.16 This sentiment was echoed in the wider ASEAN community; intervention was unlikely unless Suharto requested it.

Portugal made genuine attempts to arbitrate a peaceful decolonization 

process. In March 1975 there was a meeting in London between high-level 

Indonesian and Portuguese delegations. The Portuguese advised Indonesia 

there was little support in the colony for integration. Portugal rejected the notion that Indonesia should be directly involved with East Timor’s quest for 

independence, proposing that a council be created to enable transition in ac-
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

21

cordance with East Timorese wishes. This council would represent all interested parties, including the Indonesians, the Portuguese, and the rival factions in East Timor. The Decolonization Commission subsequently became 

reality and approved a three-year period for East Timorese self-determination.17 The transition period would never eventuate.

Indonesian, East Timor, and Portuguese parties were invited to attend Decolonization Commission talks. Leaders of the dominant Fretilin movement 

refused to participate. They were incensed that their rival movement, Apodeti, was invited to participate. How could Apodeti, which proposed recolonization by Indonesia, be given a voice at a decolonization commission? Ironically, Fretilin’s boycott eliminated an opportunity to highlight its concerns 

internationally. This reinforced Fretilin’s mystique at a time it needed any opportunity to advertise its peaceful cause. In a parallel maneuver, Fretilin 

sought an independent decolonization process via bilateral negotiations with 

Portugal. Fretilin symbolically ensured the Portuguese flag remained flying in 

Dili and encouraged the return of a Portuguese delegation to discuss independence. The delegation never arrived.

By late 1975, Fretilin had been abandoned by Portugal and was being covertly attacked by Indonesia. The Fretilin forces regularly found themselves in 

border skirmishes with the Indonesian military. Inflaming the situation, Canberra had leaked intelligence to Fretilin alluding to an imminent Indonesian 

invasion. In an attempt to gain international attention and regain the initiative, Fretilin declared independence on 28 November 1975, founding the 

Democratic Republic of East Timor. Fretilin leaders later cited Indonesian 

border incursions as the “biggest single factor” behind their decision to declare independence.18 Fretilin felt it had little choice. Its three-year decolonization transition period was accelerated to one day. Indonesia responded to 

the news by launching an invasion.

United States Policy 

It must be the policy of the United States to support free peoples who 

are resisting attempted subjugation by armed minorities or by outside pressure.

—Pres. Harold S. Truman

Address to Congress

12 March 1947
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

22

To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we 

pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have 

passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny.

—Pres. John F. Kennedy

Inaugural Address

20 January 1961

America cannot—and will not—conceive all the plans, design all the 

programs, execute all the decisions, and undertake all the defense of 

the free nations.

—Pres. Richard M. Nixon 

Address to Congress 

18 February 1970

The period surrounding the Portuguese revolution and the Indonesian invasion of East Timor was tumultuous for the United States. The Cold War 

occupied the minds of US citizens: “An American study of the 1960s . . . surveyed 

3,000 children and adolescents . . . 95 percent expressed a serious concern 

about the danger of war and 44 percent lived in fear, waiting for war.” This fear 

fueled US strategic thinking. A war-weary American public had watched its 

military savaged in Southeast Asia for the best part of a decade. Americans 

wanted their troops to come home, and they wanted protection from a nuclear 

war. US strategists offered them this protection. Mutually assured destruction (MAD) was developed to decrease the chance of Cold War nuclear 

exchange. Yet the Cuban missile crisis highlighted a flaw: small communistbacked nations did not operate within MAD logic. There were many lessons 

from those 13 days of tension, one of which was the prudency of discouraging 

small nations from becoming infiltrated with communism. 

By 1975, US post–World War II enthusiasms for supporting free and democratic nations had noticeably waned. The United States could not protect the 

free world without suffering itself. The 1950s rhetoric of US support for any 

state seeking freedom and independence had transformed by the 1970s. The 

ideology shifted to something more manageable: containing the spread of 

communism. After its defeat in Vietnam, US defense policy changed to a 

“stand-off policy, based on naval power and support for local allies rather 

than direct engagement.” 

Indochina fell to communists as the crisis was developing in East Timor. 

The Timorese may have perceived they qualified for US support against their 

own form of iron tyranny, but this was not the reality. There were numerous 

reasons for the United States to support Suharto rather than East Timor. First, 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

23

Suharto had pleased Washington with his brutal approach to communism in 

Southeast Asia. Second, the East Timorese were suspected of being communists themselves. Third, the ongoing Israeli–Arab tensions in the Middle East 

increased the value of US relations with Indonesia, the home of the world’s 

largest Muslim population. Finally, the 6,000 inhabited Indonesian islands 

surrounding East Timor were fundamental to US objectives in the region.

The Indonesian archipelago was, and remains, home to the movement of 

huge volumes of commercial shipping. The narrow archipelago constitutes 

one of seven globally strategic maritime chokepoints. If Indonesia were to 

restrict America’s naval movement in these areas, it would reduce the latter’s 

ability to dominate “global military movement and world trade.” Further, the 

Ombai-Wetar Straits lie north of East Timor. These deep channels provide for 

undetected passage of US submarines between the Pacific and Indian Oceans. 

If the United States lost access to this passage, its submarines would be forced 

to surface before passing through the shallow Malacca Straits or to use the 

Lombok or Selat Sunda straits—adding eight days to the travel time. 

Backing Suharto was a wise investment for the US government. By 1974 

Suharto had been in power for seven years and had become a stabilizing influence in Southeast Asia. Not only had he suppressed communism, he also was 

now refusing to allow right-wing Islamist movements to gain political 

momentum in Indonesia. US allies Australia and New Zealand welcomed 

Suharto’s leadership in the region and sought stronger ties with their heavily 

populated trading partner to the north. ASEAN, excluding Singapore, voted 

against the UN resolutions condemning Indonesia. In general, ASEAN supported the direction Suharto was taking in Indonesia: a more tolerant region 

with greater Western interaction. Indonesia was an important player in 

Southeast Asia; it was also an important player globally.

By early 1975, the United States became convinced that East Timor’s 

dominant political movement, Fretilin, was backed by communist Vietnam 

or communist China. US president Gerald Ford’s administration (1974–77) 

contemplated the emergence of a communist microstate in the Indonesian 

archipelago and drew a strategic comparison with the island of Cuba in its 

own Caribbean backyard. With the US military withdrawing from Vietnam, 

Suharto’s plan to integrate East Timor with his stable, anticommunist nation 

would help contain communism in the region. This was good news for the 

United States.

Following the East Timorese civil war in August 1975, the CIA briefed 

President Ford that an invasion was being considered by Indonesia. As the 

situation deteriorated, this option moved to the forefront of Suharto’s mind. 

Suharto may not have ascribed to international relations theory suggesting 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

24

the United States decides the fate of East Timor, but he knew US reaction to 

an invasion was crucial for a number of reasons. First, the United States was 

the regional hegemon, and its opposition would complicate the invasion; second, 

the United States had veto power in the United Nations, meaning if it supported Suharto, it could nullify any UN resolution against Indonesia; third, 

Australia historically meddled in Indonesian politics but was unlikely to oppose 

US policy; and finally, 90 percent of Indonesia’s military hardware was supplied by the United States. The last factor was critical because Indonesia’s use 

of that hardware in East Timor soon violated the terms under which it was 

provided. 

Senior US leadership understood the importance and the convenience of 

Indonesia’s anticommunist campaign and did not oppose the invasion. Further, 

when they became aware that US arms had been used in East Timor, they 

ignored it. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger considered the violation of 

Indonesian supply agreements of little or no concern. Following the invasion, 

he commented to Assistant Secretary of State Philip Habib that, “No one has 

complained that it was aggression.” Kissinger’s legal advisor was present at the 

time, and queried, “What do we say to Congress if we’re asked?” Kissinger 

replied, “We cut it off while we are studying it. We intend to start again in 

January.” For the Indonesian military, there was no interruption to US arms 

supply before, during, or after the invasion. 

The sentiment between Indonesia and the United States in the lead-up to 

the East Timor invasion was not that of close allies, rather it was one of 

accommodation. On 6 December 1975, the night before the invasion, Suharto 

hosted Ford at a dinner in Indonesia. Ford proposed a toast to Suharto, stating 

that their “relationship involves a common concern for the right of every 

nation to pursue its destiny on its own independent and sovereign course.” 

Behind closed doors this sentiment was modified. When transcripts were declassified in 2001, they revealed Suharto advised Ford privately that Fretilin 

was infected with communism. Ford subsequently assured Suharto the United 

States would not object if Indonesia took “drastic action” in East Timor. Less 

than 24 hours after this visit, Indonesia invaded. When Ford returned to the 

United States, his administration made no public statements regarding the 

situation in East Timor. 

Australian Policy

The strategic concern that has been intermittently expressed in 

Australia for over 100 years arises from this very weakness of the 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

25

[Pacific] islands . . . the fear has been that a hostile external power may 

establish bases in the islands either to threaten Australia or to threaten 

its sea lines of communication.

—Gary Smith

Australia in the World, 1996

Indonesia is of the greatest strategic significance to Australia.

—Australian Defence Committee

Strategic Basis of Australian Defence Policy, 1971

Portuguese Timor was too small to be independent. 

—Prime Minister Gough Whitlam, 1974

In the period following the Malayan Emergency and Vietnam War, the decision by the United Kingdom and United States to withdraw from the Southeast 

Asia left Australian strategists to ponder whether Australia had become, by 

default, a more influential player in the region. The government believed it 

had. Despite being a small postcolonial power, Australia indicated its desire to 

influence international relations in Southeast Asia. By the mid-1970s, the beginnings of a new, more independent military strategy had taken form, supported by an increasingly independent foreign policy. 

In 1975 Australia’s approach to the East Timor dilemma represented its 

independent foreign policy. Unfortunately, it was ad hoc, contradictory, and 

beset with domestic political disagreements. The Department of Foreign Affairs 

and Trade (DFAT) believed Australia should support an independent East 

Timor, while the prime minister disregarded this advice and conveyed Australia’s tacit support for an Indonesian annexation. Australia subsequently 

supported UN resolutions condemning the Indonesian invasion but failed to 

offer troops to enforce those resolutions. Decades later, Australia would lead 

a high-profile UN military intervention force to secure East Timor’s independence. The story behind the confusion is complicated. International relations, 

natural disasters, and the greatest domestic political crisis in Australia’s history all played a role in shaping Australia’s muddled 1975 response to the East 

Timor crisis.

In the wake of Vietnam, the Australian public had little tolerance for military deployments in Southeast Asia. The focus, both domestically and internationally, was damage control. In April 1975 Australian forces evacuated the 

Australian embassy in Saigon. The war against the communists had divided 

the Australian nation, and public sentiment echoed that of the United States. 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

26

Another military intervention, this time in East Timor would have been political 

suicide for an Australian government. Further eroding East Timor’s chance of 

support was an unexpected phenomenon—the weather. In early 1975 Australia 

was recovering from Cyclone Tracy, which struck the northern Australian 

city of Darwin, devastating its population and infrastructure. Tracy was the 

most powerful recorded storm system on earth until Atlantic Tropical Storm 

Marco in 2008. Darwin, located approximately 300 nautical miles south of 

Dili, was East Timor’s only non-Indonesian connection to the outside world. 

In 1975 Australia focused on the Darwin recovery operations and halted the 

twice-weekly air service to East Timor’s Baucau Airport. Thus, East Timor 

had to rely solely on its Indonesian neighbors for outside communications. 

Further removing the focus from East Timor was an Australian domestic 

political crisis. The Whitlam Labor Government was foundering. Aside from 

damaging internal scandals, its greatest problem emerged as an inability to 

maintain monetary supply through a Liberal-controlled Senate. The crisis 

deepened, and on 11 November 1975, a few weeks prior to the Indonesian 

invasion, the governor-general dismissed the prime minister. This was the 

first and only such occurrence in Australian history. In the subsequent election, the Liberal Party’s Malcolm Fraser won in a landslide. By the time he 

took power, Indonesian forces were firmly established in East Timor. Prime 

Minister Fraser (1975–83) inherited the responsibility for relations with the 

neighbors to the north. As reflected in the 1976 white paper, the Australian 

government believed, “Friendly relations between Australia and its major 

neighbor Indonesia have prevailed for thirty years and have successfully 

weathered occasional sharp differences.” 

Fraser knew that good relations with Indonesia were good for Australia. 

Under Pres. Sukarno many of the sharp differences between the two countries 

had destabilized the region, the low point being Konfrontasi (1963–66), where 

Australian soldiers clashed directly with Indonesian troops. After Sukarno’s 

overthrow, Indonesia had developed into a friendlier and more stable neighbor. 

Suharto’s brutal approach to communism and dim view of Islamic fundamentalism also particularly pleased Canberra.

Australia and the United States viewed Indonesia’s integration of East 

Timor as nothing more than a speed bump on the road to mutually beneficial 

international relations. Whitlam, facing a mountain of pressure at home, 

knew any friction with Indonesia could damage his chances of reelection, and 

he resisted DFAT’s urges for him to support East Timor’s independence. 

Whitlam knew that Suharto’s aggression bothered factions on both sides of 

politics, but an international standoff with Australia’s northern neighbor 

would likely be politically more damaging. On 15 October 1975, Whitlam 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

27

met with Suharto and, according to Australia’s ambassador to Indonesia, 

Richard Woolcott, explained to Suharto that if it came down to a choice 

between Portuguese East Timor and Indonesia, Australia would side with the 

latter. Following the meeting, Woolcott sent a cablegram to Canberra that 

included the following: 

There is no doubt in my mind that the Indonesian Government’s fundamental assessment of our position is predicated on the talks between Mr. Whitlam and President 

Suharto in Townsville. Particularly important to the Indonesians was the Prime Minister’s view expressed in the Record as follows:—‘He wished to reaffirm, however, that we 

strongly desired closer and more cordial relations with Indonesia and would ensure that 

our actions in regard to Portuguese Timor would always be guided by the principle that 

good relations with Indonesia were of paramount importance to Australia.’39

While this exchange inferred unconditional support for Indonesia, it must 

be also placed in context. At this point in the crisis, Indonesia had refrained 

from using military force and Suharto wanted to avoid overt force if possible. 

It is reasonable to assume that Whitlam was aware of this inclination when he 

gave these assurances to Suharto. Further, Whitlam had outlined his threefold 

position on numerous occasions: Australia supported Indonesia; the East 

Timorese had a right to self-determination; and, the use of overt force would 

damage the relationship between Australia and Indonesia. Whitlam’s message 

was consistent; however, the intentional emphasis of the first aspect of the 

message resonated more deeply than the rest. As the crisis developed, Australian 

tacit support for Indonesia was all that mattered to Suharto. 

United Nations Policy

There is no recognized authority higher than the state in the current 

international system.

—Dr. Everett Dolman

The United States wished things [East Timor] to turn out as they did, 

and worked to bring this about. The Department of State desired that 

the United Nations prove utterly ineffective in whatever measures it 

undertook. This task was given to me, and I carried it forward with 

no inconsiderable success. 

—Daniel Patrick Moynihan

US Ambassador to the United Nation, 1975–76
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

28

The United Nations acted quickly following the Indonesian invasion of 

East Timor. On 12 December 1975 the UN General Assembly passed a resolution calling for withdrawal of all Indonesian troops and for all states to recognize the independence of East Timor. Ten days later it passed another resolution calling for Indonesia to withdraw without delay. Because the issue was 

not considered important enough to warrant peacekeeping measures, the 

Security Council committed no troops to enforce the resolutions. 

Throughout the crisis, Indonesia repeated its support for the decolonization process in East Timor. On 4 December 1975, prior to the UN resolutions, 

Indonesia’s permanent resident to the United Nations reiterated the position 

that Indonesia believed East Timor had a right to self-determination. He 

added, however, that Indonesia would not allow East Timor to disintegrate 

from the inside. It is reasonable to assume Fretilin’s declaration of independence met the Indonesian criterion for disintegration.

Through its conspicuous absence, the United States supported Indonesia’s 

invasion. The United States abstained from the UN vote, reinforcing the notion that relations with Indonesia were of great strategic importance. The 

United States had publicly supported Suharto’s vision for the region and followed this privately with specific support for the invasion. As Suharto would 

have expected, US policy within the UN framework provided no resistance to 

the Indonesian course of action.

Australia’s muddled contribution to UN resolutions was in contrast to US 

consistency. On 24 September 1975, prior to the invasion, Whitlam publicly 

stated, “We have no intention of raising the question of Portuguese Timor in 

the United Nations.” During numerous bilateral communications, Australia 

offered Indonesia tacit approval regarding East Timor’s integration. Following the invasion, the Indonesians were understandably surprised that Australia had voted in favor of the UN resolutions condemning them. It is somewhat 

ironic that, in trying to maintain good Indonesian relations prior to the invasion, Australia managed to damage relations in the aftermath. Although 

Whitlam often reiterated the notion that the East Timorese should be allowed 

to determine their own future, the clear political message was that Whitlam 

supported the integration of East Timor with Indonesia and did not intend 

raising the issue with the United Nations. It is not surprising Indonesia felt 

Australia was playing all sides independently, crafting one message for Indonesia and another for the international community. 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

29

Analysis

There were five major players affecting the outcome in 1975: Indonesia, 

Portugal, the United States, Australia, and the United Nations. According to 

international relations theory outlined in the previous chapter, as the regional 

superpower the United States ultimately determined the outcome. Portugal, 

Australia, and the United Nations could influence the United States; however, 

if the United States continued to support Indonesia, the outcome would be in 

Suharto’s favor.

For Indonesia, the annexation of East Timor was a strategic response to 

instability in the archipelago. The Portuguese had vacated a colony on the 

Indonesian border, there were security implications, and Suharto intended to 

neutralize them. Initially, Suharto planned to restore security via a peaceful 

unification process. But it became a slippery slope from the use of covert military operations to a full-scale military offensive to achieve his goals. Suharto’s 

strategic desire for unification resided in the wider interest of Southeast Asia. 

The acquiescence from ASEAN countries, Australia, New Zealand, and the 

United States reinforced Suharto’s appreciation that annexing East Timor was 

a tolerable course of action with which to confront regional security concerns.

Despite being geographically separated, the United States was the dominant power in Southeast Asia. The legacy of the World War II Pacific theater 

meant the United States had a presence in numerous Southeast Asian countries and it dominated regional decision making. However, there was more to 

global politics than Southeast Asia. In 1975 the global strategic context was 

dictated by two great powers: the Soviet Union and the United States. Accordingly, the driving factors behind US foreign policy were nuclear war deterrence and the global containment of communism. The US decision to support 

Suharto must therefore be placed in the strategic context of the Cold War. 

From the US perspective, America was primarily concerned with the contribution Suharto was making toward halting the spread of communism.

The Cold War ideological battle heavily influenced US policy regarding 

East Timor. In 1975 the United States had just lost the communist fight in 

Indochina and, under significant domestic political pressure, was reducing its 

presence in the Asian region. With this withdrawal came a fear of communism spreading down the Malay Peninsula. The British were also withdrawing 

their forces from Southeast Asia. With a massive reduction of UK and US 

troops in the region, opposing Suharto—a proven anticommunist—made no 

sense for US policy makers.

Fretilin was declared a communist party. This assertion by Suharto was 

factually incorrect; however, it served to reinforce US support for Indonesia. 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

30

While Fretilin was undoubtedly socialist, the United States placed emphasis 

on the Indonesian-supplied intelligence that concluded the political void 

caused by Portugal was being filled by a communist insurgency. Additional 

factors contributed to US communist suspicions. First, Fretilin refused to 

participate in the Portuguese-led Decolonization Commission and declared 

independence without consultation, creating a perception of Fretilin autocracy. 

Second, prior to calling themselves Fretilin, the organization was named the 

Timorese Social Democratic Association, a communist-sounding title. Third, 

in Australia and Indonesia, Fretilin cadres were widely rumored to be Marxist 

sympathizers. Founded or unfounded, in the Cold War strategic environment 

these rumors were damaging. Fretilin’s silence added weight to Suharto’s 

accusations that Fretilin was infected with communism.

The potential for a communist microstate in the Indonesian archipelago 

was not only a thorn in the side of the Indonesians and Australians, it was also 

a strategic problem for the United States. In 1975 the United States was fighting 

communism on a global scale, perceiving it to be an existential threat. 

Suharto had proven himself as an enemy of communism. He complemented 

US global policy, whereas Fretilin did not. Given the Cold War context, the 

East Timor political vacuum, and the intelligence available at the time, it was 

appropriate for the United States to support the Indonesian plan to restore 

stability to East Timor. Despite the subsequent atrocities committed in East 

Timor at the hands of the Indonesians, it must be remembered that US support was garnered before the Indonesian invasion. While casualties are 

expected in a military invasion, the possibility of atrocities was not yet in the 

US decision-making calculus.

Australia was also caught in the context of the Cold War. A staunch supporter of the US quest to contain communism, the Australians had welcomed 

Suharto as the replacement to the much-maligned Sukarno. Only eight years 

prior, Australian and Indonesian troops had clashed on the Malay border as 

Sukarno attempted to expand Indonesia. In the wake of this difficult period, 

Australia sought improved strategic relationships, not further military clashes. 

Suharto was not perfect; however, unlike Sukarno, he clearly favored the 

West. In 1972 the Australian government articulated, “Australia’s relations 

with Indonesia are of profound and permanent importance to Australia’s security 

and national interest.” 

Whitlam agreed with Suharto that East Timor was not viable as an independent state. History proved them incorrect, but does this alone make their 

decision making flawed? With the benefit of hindsight, we know that East 

Timor required 15 years of UN support before standing on its own in 2014. It 

remains a fragile state requiring foreign assistance to survive. In 1975 the viability 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

31

of East Timor was rightly questionable. The Portuguese governing body had 

vacated, leaving a political vacuum and triggering a civil war. The victor, a 

suspected communist sympathizer, declared independence and boycotted the 

ensuing decolonization negotiations. Reports of clashes within the borders 

then continued throughout 1975, including reports of civilians fleeing from 

the communist fighters. Much of this intelligence was subsequently proven 

inaccurate, yet it was the information used to build a picture. Considering the 

context of the era and the evidence available at the time, the assessment that 

East Timor was unlikely to be a viable independent state was, however distasteful today, reasonable.

Despite evidence of a communist infiltration, Australia did not give unconditional support to Indonesia’s annexation plan. Whitlam expressed to 

Suharto that East Timor should decide its own future. He added that using 

overt military force in East Timor would damage the relationship between 

Australia and Indonesia. In essence, Whitlam gambled Suharto’s covert military operations would work; they did not. Australia found itself supporting 

Indonesia and supporting East Timor’s right to self-determination. 

Was this a naive approach to international relations? Perhaps. The real 

question is whether or not a window of opportunity was lost as a result of 

this naivety. 

Counterfactuals may always be proven true because they are based on a 

false premise, a thing did not happen; but they can occasionally divulge insight. Revisiting the history of 1975 and reversing Australia’s position on East 

Timor suggests there was no window of opportunity for the Australians to 

alter the East Timor situation. According to the international relations theory 

that animates this discussion, the United States decided whether or not the 

Indonesians invaded. If we accept this, then Australia had to argue a case that 

reversed the US decision.

Australia had to find a way to move the United States away from supporting Indonesia—transition it into indecision—before attempting to garner its 

support for East Timor. There were significant diplomatic walls to knock 

down before the United States would perform this backflip. Using the framework from chapter 2 as a guide reveals the task required of the Australians. 

The most effective way for Australia to achieve US support would have been 

to (1) realign established great-power policy with small-power self-interest, (2) 

be willing to offer viable solutions to pursue that interest, and (3) be capable of 

executing combat missions in support of proposed solutions.

 First, Australia would have had to convince the United States it had selfinterest in an independent East Timor. Essentially, Australia would be arguing that US security interests would be better served by supporting Fretilin 
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

32

than Suharto, a decidedly difficult task at the time. How could this be done? 

The fear of communism was a major driver of US support; disputing Suharto’s 

claims would be essential. Suharto assured Ford that Fretilin were communists. 

Could Australia subsequently assure Ford they were not? By December 1975 

Australia had a new prime minister, Malcolm Fraser. Could his first order of 

business be denouncing Indonesia? Would he be willing to risk this course of 

action based on some conflicting evidence? In the unlikely event Fraser convinced the Americans that Suharto was misleading them, he would then have 

to align Fretilin’s fight against Indonesia as being in accordance with the 

United States’s broader global policy of containing communism. If Fretilin 

were just friendly socialists seeking independence, the entire situation was 

not a communist struggle—therefore unimportant.

To reinforce the enormity of the task, if we assume Fraser managed to 

somehow realign US self-interest with Fretilin’s quest for independence, there 

remained even greater obstacles. The second aspect of garnering great-power 

support is a willingness to offer viable solutions to pursue its newfound interest. 

What viable solutions, other than direct intervention, could be offered? The 

Indonesians had already displayed contempt for UN resolutions. Could US 

and/or Australian troops be mobilized to enforce them? In the immediate 

wake of Vietnam, an attempt by either democracy to rush an Indonesian strategic 

policy reversal through their political systems while at the same time attempting to justify more troops in Southeast Asia would have been politically implausible.

The final criterion for successfully acquiring great-power support is demonstrating the potential to execute combat missions in support of proposed solutions. Considering their recent history fighting insurgent and conventional 

forces in Vietnam, it is reasonable to assume Australia was capable of executing a combat mission in East Timor. How the mission would actually proceed, 

what the reaction of Suharto would be, and what type of support would be 

required from the United Statess would be taking speculation beyond the 

point of reasonableness.

There was no window of opportunity for Australia in 1975. This short 

counterfactual analysis reveals the futility of Australia considering intervention in East Timor. The US decision had been made; the Indonesian military 

tide was released with little notice, nor expectation of impending atrocities. In 

1975 Australia had no politically viable alternatives other than to reiterate 

more forcefully its diplomatic support for East Timor’s right to self-determination. 

Would an impassioned diplomatic plea have changed anything? If the response 

to the UN resolutions is an indicator, the answer is no.
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

33

Indonesia’s desire for unification in 1975 indicates only coordinated international condemnation backed by a credible threat of the use of force would 

have reversed the invasion. The invasion could not have been deterred or prevented because it was unilaterally executed with little warning. Further, there 

was no momentum from any state to use force to solve a problem it did not 

understand. Considering the confusion on all sides, any international coordination following the invasion was also unrealistic. Despite claims to the contrary, there was simply no window of opportunity for Australia to act in 1975.

The next chapter investigates events following formal annexation of East 

Timor in July 1976 to the end of the Cold War. As reports of Indonesian 

atrocities began to emerge, the United States, Australia, and the United 

Nations had ample opportunity to question their initial lack of action. Given 

that Australia successfully supported East Timor in the post–Cold War environment, did Australia miss a window of opportunity during the Cold War? 

The following chapter investigates that question.

Notes

1. Wendy Way, Damien Browne, and Vivianne Johnson, eds., Australia and the Indonesian 

Incorporation of Portuguese Timor, 1974–1976 (Carlton, Victoria, Australia: Melbourne University 

Press, 2000), 97.

2. Dunn, East Timor, 65.

3. Robinson, If You Leave Us Here, We Will Die, 34–36.

4. Way et al., Australia and the Indonesian Incorporation, 468.

5. Mark Selden and Alvin Y. So, War and State Terrorism: The United States, Japan, and the 

Asia-Pacific in the Long Twentieth Century (Rowman & Littlefield, 2004), 211.

6. Way et al., Australia and the Indonesian Incorporation, 123.

7. Dunn, East Timor, 151; and Way et al., Australia and the Indonesian Incorporation, 123.

8. Way et al., Australia and the Indonesian Incorporation, 97.

9. Dunn, East Timor, 153.

10. Geoffrey Robinson, “‘If You Leave Us Here, We Will Die,’” in The New Killing Fields: 

Massacre and the Politics of Intervention, edited by Nicolaus Mills and Kira Brunner (New York: 

Basic Books, 2002), 162.

11. Dunn, East Timor, 45.

12. Robinson, “‘ If You Leave Us Here,’” 211.

13. Dunn, East Timor, 36.

14. Ibid.

15. Way et al., Australia and the Indonesian Incorporation, 467.

16. Ibid.

17. Dunn, East Timor, 75, 78–81.

18. Ibid., 234.

19. Stanislav Roschin and Tatiana Kabachenko, “Young People and Nuclear War,” in Breakthrough: Emerging New Thinking: Soviet and Western Scholars Issue a Challenge to Build aWorld beyond 

War, edited by Anatoliĭ Andreevich Gromyko and Martin Hellman (New York: Walker, 1988), 65–73.
THE 1975 INDONESIAN INVASION

34

20. Barry Buzan and Ole Wæver, Regions and Powers: The Structure of International Security

(New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 139.

21. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 182–208.

22. Everett C. Dolman, Astropolitik: Classical Geopolitics in the Space Age (Portland, OR: 

Frank Cass, 2002), 34.

23. Jerry Sweeney, “A Matter of Small Consequence, U.S. Foreign Policy and the Tragedy of 

East Timor,” Independent Review 7, no. 1 (Summer 2002), 96.

24. Dunn, East Timor, 318.

25. John Catalinotto, “Behind Australia’s Intervention in East Timor,” Workers World (website), 

8 June 2006, http://www.workers.org/2006/world/east-timor-0615/.

26. Dunn, East Timor, 152.

27. Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide,” 171.

28. Ibid.

29. “Text of a Toast by the President to Be Delivered at a State Dinner Given by President 

Suharto, Djakarta, Indonesia” (presidential palace, Jakarta, Indonesia, White House press releases 

at the Gerald R. Ford Presidential Library, 5 December 1975), http://www.fordlibrarymuseum

.gov/library/document/0248/whpr19751205-010.pdf.

30. Robinson, “If You Leave Us Here,” 59.

31. Ibid., 58–60.

32. Department of Defence, Defence Force White Paper: 2013, http://www.defence.gov.au

/whitepaper/2013/docs/wp_2013_web.pdf.

33. Department of Veterans’ Affairs, Government of Australia, “Australia and the Vietnam War,” 

Commemoration: Australia’s Wartime Heritage (website), 2016, http://vietnam-war.commemoration

.gov.au/public-opinion/.

34. Hurricane Research Division, Atlantic Oceanographic and Meteorological Laboratory, 

“Which Are the Largest and Smallest Tropical Cyclones on Record?” National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (website), 29 May 2009, http://www.aoml.noaa.gov/hrd/tcfaq/E5.html.

35. Dunn, East Timor, 73–74.

36. Department of Defence, Defence Force White Paper: 2013.

37. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 182.

38. Katsumi Ishizuka, Australia’s Policy towards East Timor: Australia as Regional Hegemon?, 

UNU-CRIS Occasional Papers (Kasukabe, Saitama, Japan: Department of International Business 

Management, University of Kyoei, January 2004), 272.

39. National Archives of Australia: A1838, 49/2/111, viii, cited in Way et al., Australia and 

the Indonesian Incorporation, 468–70.

40. Ishizuka, Australia’s Policy towards East Timor, 272.

41. Grayson J. Lloyd, “The Diplomacy on East Timor: Indonesia, the United Nations and the 

International Community,” in Out of the Ashes Destruction and Reconstruction of East Timor, 

edited by James J. Fox and Dionisio Babo Soares (Canberra: Australian National University Press, 

2003), 77, http://epress.anu.edu.au/titles/out-of-the-ashes.

42. Dunn, East Timor, 320.

43. Robinson, “‘If You Leave Us Here,’ ” 162.

44. Lloyd, “The Diplomacy on East Timor,” 77.

45. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 194.

46. Ibid., 205.

47. Stephan Frühling, A History of Australian Strategic Policy since 1945 (Canberra: Australian 

Department of Defence, 2009), 459.
35

Chapter 4

The Cold War Years, 1976–89 

The 1975 Indonesian invasion of East Timor was the precursor to 25 years 

of human rights abuse of the East Timorese population. While numerous 

resolutions were passed condemning Indonesian actions, the United Nations 

failed to respond effectively to Indonesia’s flagrant disregard of international 

law. Connected to this failure were the US and Australian governments’ failures 

to act. As the stories of death and destruction approached near genocidal levels, 

these two nations had the power to stop the carnage. However, due to commitments outside Southeast Asia, the United States chose not to pressure 

Suharto to withdraw his forces. Without this pressure, Australia lacked the 

capacity to influence Indonesian decision making. Much has been made of 

US and Australian inaction, and the East Timorese are often referred to as a 

forgotten people. However, during the Cold War, they were not merely forgotten, they were insignificant.

Events in East Timor

The Indonesian invasion of East Timor was devastating. Within six months, 

an estimated 60,000 people were killed—representing roughly 10 percent of 

the population.1

 In 1979 an Indonesian church organization reported the 

population had declined from almost 690,000 in 1974 to under 330,000 in 

1979.2

 The Indonesian government denied this was the case. Indonesian 

foreign minister Mochtar Kusumaatmadja estimated that 120,000 deaths 

were more accurate.3

 It is reasonable to assume the actual number lies somewhere between these figures. One thing is certain, the real figure will never 

be known.

The scale of the catastrophe is difficult to comprehend. Deaths in hundreds 

of thousands belie the individual horror of the carnage. The application of 

death tolls to war zones invokes images of soldiers clashing with soldiers, perhaps with some civilian collateral damage. The East Timor reality was the 

slaughter of civilian men, women, and children in the tens of thousands. 

Within this death toll were known mass killings that occurred in 1975, 1976, 

1977, 1978, and 1980.4

 Numerous eyewitness accounts exist of these massacres. During the 1975 invasion, Bishop José Ribeiro of East Timor witnessed 

a mass killing in Dili, the scene retold by James Dunn:
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

36

One of the most bizarre and gruesome of these atrocities occurred within twenty-four 

hours of the invasion and involved the killing of about 150 people. This shocking spectacle began with the execution of more than twenty women who, from various accounts, 

were selected at random. Some had young children who wept in distress as the soldiers 

tore them from the arms of their terrified mothers. . . . They were led out to the edge of 

the jetty and shot one at a time with the crowd of shocked onlookers being forced at 

gunpoint to count aloud as each execution took place.5

The East Timorese remained resilient throughout their ordeal, if not further 

hardened by the experience. While their postinvasion environment was dominated by “insecurity, fear and oppression,” the brutal tactics used by the 

Indonesian soldiers managed to seal the fractured political lines within East 

Timor’s population, uniting them with Fretilin against the common enemy.6

As the situation deteriorated in 1976 and the Indonesian atrocities intensified, 

many of the UDT forces changed sides and fought for Fretilin. The East 

Timorese fighters resisted the Indonesian military for three years, although 

the situation became increasingly dire. Years later, one Fretilin officer recounted his experience, “All three of my family died at Indonesian hands—

my wife had her throat cut . . . my children were poisoned. Thirteen other 

members of my family also perished.”7

The thousands of East Timorese who fled to the hills for security under 

Fretilin slowly began to starve. The guerrillas, who depended upon the support 

of the population to survive, were ill equipped to provide basic services in 

return. As a result, in 1977 Fretilin encouraged many East Timorese to hand 

themselves over to the Indonesians. When the Timorese emerged from the 

hills, they were shot, tortured, or placed in resettlement camps where either 

an agonizing existence or a slow death awaited them.8

By 1979 Suharto succumbed to international pressure and permitted limited 

non-Indonesian relief operations into East Timor. The relief workers found 

200,000 East Timorese surviving in resettlement camps, conditions commensurate with the most appalling of human atrocities, including those on the 

Thai–Cambodian border.9

 Despite the presence of limited international aid, 

the remainder of the Cold War period saw little improvement for the East 

Timorese. The oppression continued, and by 1983 as much as 90 percent of 

the East Timorese population was controlled by the Indonesian military.10

Suharto’s forces failed in their objective to destroy Fretilin. Despite controlling the populated areas, the Indonesian military acknowledged remnant 

Fretilin forces were difficult to eliminate due to their village support networks 

within the Indonesian-controlled areas. Xanana Gusmão, who would become 

president in 2002, emerged in 1980 as Fretilin’s Falintil guerilla commander. 

He led a disciplined East Timorese resistance for more than a decade, becoming 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

37

a symbol of hope for the embattled population attempting to survive Indonesian 

occupation.11 As is often the case with occupied populations, the more the 

occupier tried to crush the human spirit, the stronger the resistance became.12

The international community slowly gained information about the East 

Timorese plight. The United Nations; José Ramos-Horta, who served as permanent representative of Fretilin to the United Nations throughout much of 

the Indonesian occupation of East Timor; and the Catholic Church were 

largely responsible for this.13 Despite failing to enforce resolutions, the United 

Nations did ensure the issue of East Timor never fully disappeared. Aided by 

this, Ramos-Horta disseminated the East Timorese legal and moral argument 

throughout the world. His 1996 Nobel Peace Prize not only recognized this 

work but also further increased awareness of the East Timorese predicament.14 The Catholic Church complemented Ramos-Horta’s efforts. Pope 

John Paul II visited East Timor in 1988, leading to unprecedented international coverage and broad condemnation of Indonesia’s activities. In 1989 

East Timor’s Bishop Carlos Filipe Ximenes Belo wrote to the UN secretarygeneral requesting a referendum on East Timor’s future. The same bishop 

exposed the details of the 1991 Santa Cruz massacre, a turning point for East 

Timorese international support. The Church’s efforts resulted in the East 

Timorese converting to Christianity in large numbers. By the time international help arrived in the late 1990s, more than 80 percent of the population 

classified themselves as Christians.15 In the 1980s there was an absence of concrete international support; however, the United Nations, Ramos-Horta, and 

the Catholic Church gave the East Timorese some semblance of hope.

Indonesian Policy

Suharto believed East Timor’s armed resistance would capitulate under 

overwhelming Indonesian military force. When this did not transpire, a risk 

emerged. If the Timorese population achieved independence, Indonesia 

would find it difficult to control the narrative regarding the military’s abuse 

of human rights. Initially, Suharto explained the violence as being the result 

of a Timorese civil war, successfully deflecting criticism of Indonesian activities. He then transformed the situation from an invasion of a sovereign territory into an internal security issue by annexing East Timor. The Indonesians masterfully carried out this plan aided by a media blackout, brutal 

control of the population, fabricated propaganda, and deception of the UN 

Security Council. 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

38

A free press is a vital component of a vibrant democracy. For support to be 

generated within the international community, particularly in Australia and 

the United States, the press needed access to East Timor. Prior to the 1975 

invasion, the East Timorese welcomed foreign media. As reports of civil war 

and Indonesian military activity emerged, media interest increased. Reports 

then rapidly circulated regarding five journalists—dubbed the Balibo Five—

who had been slaughtered by the Indonesian military. Rumors regarding the 

brutality of their fate meant that few journalists were willing to risk covering 

a story about which hardly anyone seemed to care. When Indonesia subsequently annexed East Timor, few foreigners were allowed to enter Indonesian 

military-controlled areas. Any journalists who gained access to Indonesian 

soil were prohibited from entering Fretilin-controlled areas. Indonesia effectively sealed off the East Timorese resistance from the outside world.16

The military oppression of the population was equal to the worst of human 

wartime behavior. The Indonesian’s argued indigenous anti-Fretilin forces 

were causing the violence while driving Fretilin out of Dili. These anti-Fretilin 

forces had requested Indonesia’s assistance. In reality, the Indonesian military 

was deployed to wipe out the Timorese population. The Indonesian troops 

viewed the Timorese as a backward and inferior race. Military commanders 

motivated their young soldiers by describing the war as Muslim jihad against 

a Catholic population or alternatively as the fight against communist infiltration.17 The soldiers were ordered to destroy any opposition. Contributing to 

the toxic environment, the Indonesians and East Timorese spoke different 

languages—the East Timorese a local Tetum dialect, the Indonesians understanding only Bahasa. Desperate pleas for mercy from the Timorese fell on 

deaf ears.

The Indonesian military took control of the towns and cities, while the 

surviving Timorese population fled to the jungle. Indonesia, victorious, declared East Timor its twenty-seventh province on 17 July 1976, further claiming to have saved the Timorese from internal aggressors. However, by 1977, 

reports regarding atrocities that were at odds with the Indonesian story began 

to trickle out from the Catholic Church in Timor. As a result, an embarrassed 

Suharto prompted his military commanders to launch another major offensive to destroy the Fretilin resistance. This included a surge of 15,000 troops. 

The troops proceeded to destroy the populations of any village suspected of 

supporting Fretilin. Frustrated by the surviving Fretilin forces, the Indonesian military commenced a “fence of legs” operation whereby East Timorese 

men, women, and children were forced to march ahead of the Indonesian 

military as a shield against Fretilin fighters.18 These tactics continued well into 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

39

the 1980s. By the mid-1980s, an exasperated Suharto declared East Timor to 

be in a state of emergency, ordering the military to crush the resistance.19

Indonesian propaganda contributed to confusion in the late 1970s and 

1980s. In early 1976 the UN Security Council was briefed by Indonesia that 

an East Timorese Council would proceed with self-determination through a 

democratic election. On the ground in Timor, the reality was far from democratic. Local leaders were rounded up and forced to polling booths, their votes 

cast under the watchful eyes of Indonesian security forces. The result was 

handed to Suharto, and the process of self-determination was declared complete. Throughout the Cold War period, stage-managed receptions for 

Indonesian officials in Dili were carefully orchestrated. The facade included 

Indonesian soldiers dressed as East Timorese locals waving pro-Indonesian 

flags.20 According to Indonesia, integration remained the wish of the East 

Timorese population. The unusual mass movement of the local population 

from their homes was, according to Indonesian officials, simply elements of 

the population fleeing from Fretilin fighters for their own protection.21

Portuguese Policy

Following the invasion, Portugal broke diplomatic ties with Indonesia and 

requested UN sanctions with the view of returning Timor to its preinvasion 

status.22 However, political upheaval in Lisbon crippled the Portuguese. 

Nevertheless, East Timor was Portugal’s colony and the East Timorese its 

people. In multilateral negotiations, Portugal requested help from Australia 

and Malaysia. This plea went unanswered.23 Further complicating matters, it 

was revealed that Portuguese forces had positioned themselves off the coast of 

East Timor and watched the 1975 invasion as “passive witnesses.”24 Prior to 

the invasion, the Indonesians had been concerned the modern Portuguese 

warships could dominate the Indonesian fleet. However, while the Indonesian 

navy and air force bombarded Dili, the Portuguese navy was instructed to 

abandon the area and sail for Darwin, Australia. They waited in harbor for 

months, in hopes that international condemnation would convince Suharto 

to withdraw his forces.25 In the end, despite Portuguese frustration at the inaction 

within the international community, they failed to display the resolve they 

requested of others.

In the late 1970s, the Portuguese political situation stabilized, and the 

country became embarrassed by its abandonment of a former colony. Public 

sentiment in the democratic nation demanded something be done to support 

the embattled Timorese. Although Lisbon again found the process frustrating, 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

40

Portuguese persistence contributed to raising the profile of the East Timor 

plight within the European community. It sent envoys throughout Europe to 

promote an appreciation of the ongoing human rights violations and to reinforce support for a 1982 UN resolution.26 This resolution declared “full and 

solemn commitment to uphold the right of the people of East Timor to selfdetermination and independence.”27

Portugal also assisted the East Timorese indirectly. Perhaps counterintuitively, Portuguese colonialism had united the Timorese against their foreign

invaders. Although the international community viewed East Timor as part 

of an Indonesian island, the Portuguese legacy had given the indigenous 

population two distinct identities: nationality and religion. The East Timorese 

identified with their Portuguese heritage—Fretilin had waved the Portuguese flag in front of the governor’s mansion in anticipation of the Portuguese return, while the Indonesian flag was nothing but a symbol of oppression. Portugal had also established the Catholic Church in East Timor. 

Following the 1975 invasion, priests joined the Fretilin fighters in the jungle. 

They converted much of the population to Catholicism, uniting them in 

prayer and strengthening their resistance.28 Despite all these unifying factors 

and the support being received from Lisbon, nothing was altering Suharto’s 

determination.29

United States Policy

During the Cold War the US government remained focused on containing 

communism. A proven communist killer, Suharto remained in US favor 

throughout the 1970s and 1980s. As a tangible symbol of this support, approximately 90 percent of military equipment used by the Indonesian military was US hardware.30 When Jakarta ran low on military equipment in 1977, 

Pres. Jimmy Carter (1977–81) authorized an increase in arms sales from $5.8 

million in fiscal year 1977 to $112 million in fiscal year 1978.31 This investment supported Suharto’s efforts to free Southeast Asia of communism and 

omitted any requirement for US troops in the region. Provided Suharto remained in power, US support for Indonesia was practically assured.

The lack of information regarding the East Timor situation, particularly in 

the form of newsworthy images, meant that by the end of 1976 the issue of 

human rights abuses in East Timor had disappeared from US press coverage. 

This suited the US Department of State, which sought to distance itself from 

the problem. This was reflected in its 1977 Human Rights Report that failed to 

mention the situation in East Timor.32 A 1977 report to Congress did state 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

41

that approximately 2,000 East Timorese had recently been killed, but it added 

most of the killing was a result of civil war. By the close of the 1970s, the US 

Congress had little information regarding the situation on the ground.33

In 1981 US president Ronald Reagan (1981–89) was elected to office as a 

symbol of revitalized US power. His foreign policy would shift away from the 

Carter administration’s focus on human rights and move back toward the 

1960s notions of US global strength and power.34 The US continued to funnel 

this strength into Indonesia’s security efforts in Southeast Asia. During Reagan’s 

administration, military sales to Indonesia peaked at over $1 billion in 1982–84.35

President Reagan and then Pres. George H. W. Bush (1989–93) continued to 

supply weapons, multilateral financing, and military training to the Indonesians throughout the 1980s.36 Priority was placed on achieving stability in the 

region; everything else came second.37

Achieving this stability allowed US resources to be focused on more important Cold War activities. The 1979 Soviet invasion of Afghanistan was one 

such activity. Presidents Carter and Reagan concluded the Soviet army was 

invading Afghanistan with eyes toward capturing Middle East oil fields. The 

United States began to build bases in the Middle East and supplied billions of 

dollars in arms to Afghans fighting the Soviets. In other global events, the 

United States began to supply military hardware to Iraq after its 1980 invasion 

of Iran.38 Following these events, Reagan’s policies included aid to anticommunist rebels in Nicaragua, the toppling of a communist government in 

Grenada, and the pursuit of broad policies to bring down the Soviet Union.39

US resources were spread thinly; only a strong argument from an influential 

nation could convince the United States that resources were best served supporting East Timor.

Australian Policy

If you want to preserve your power in the state and your state among 

others, then you may be justified in doing things often termed unscrupulous.

—Kenneth Waltz

Man, the State, and War

In the post-Vietnam era, Australia adopted a self-reliant military strategy 

supporting an independent foreign policy. This is reflected in the bilateral 

nature of the 1970s and 1980s diplomacy between Australia and Indonesia. 

No longer did Britain or the United States speak for Australia. However, as 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

42

outlined in chapter 2, great powers dominate and stabilize the international 

system. Accordingly, Australia’s disapproval of the US-endorsed Indonesian 

invasion was met with unyielding US resistance. In January 1976 the Australian ambassador to Indonesia cabled Canberra explaining that the Australian 

government had a choice: 

Between a moral stance, based on condemnation of Indonesia for the invasion of East 

Timor . . . on the one hand, and a pragmatic and realistic acceptance of the longer term 

inevitabilities of the situation, on the other hand. It’s a choice between what might be 

described as Wilsonian idealism or Kissingerian realism. The former is more proper and 

principled but the longer term national interest may well be better served by the latter. 

We do not think we can have it both ways.40

In August 1976 US officials urged an indecisive Australian government to 

maintain good relations with Indonesia. The United States argued the annexation was “a matter of direct strategic significance to US interests.”41 Predictably, by late 1976 Australia began abstaining from UN resolutions against 

Indonesia. Australia then officially announced de facto recognition of Indonesia’s sovereignty in East Timor. The Australian government remained critical 

of the way Indonesia had behaved in 1975 but concluded the invasion could 

not be undone.42 The long-term pragmatism suggested by Australia’s ambassador to Indonesia, Richard Woolcott, had been adopted as Australia’s policy 

toward East Timor.

Nations supporting East Timor, human rights activists, and minority 

groups continued to pressure the Australian government. To quell the discontent, Australia sent former Australian prime minister Whitlam as an envoy to 

Dili in 1981. He stayed for a brief period, reporting verbatim the information 

supplied to him by Jakarta. He concluded the conditions in East Timor were 

superior to those existing prior to the 1975 invasion.43 Australia continued to 

support Indonesia, and over the next decade sought ever-closer ties. However, behind the scenes, there remained a festering disagreement both within 

and between Australia’s two main political parties. The decision to take Woolcott’s pragmatic option over a moral stance was not universally backed. In a 

sign of things to come, opposition minister John Howard condemned several 

aspects of the 1980s Australian approach.44 A decade later, as prime minister, 

Howard (1996–2007) would lead the international push for East Timor’s right 

to self-determination.

By 1988, Australia’s official position developed into an acknowledgment of 

human rights concerns, coupled with a desire to address them from a platform of solid relations with Indonesia.45 This approach inevitably opened 

Australia to criticism; one of the more awkward moments was in 1989, when 

Foreign Minister Gareth Evans flew his VIP aircraft over the Timor Sea. With 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

43

him was Ali Alatas, the Indonesian foreign minister. They drank champagne 

to celebrate the signing of the Timor Gap oil and gas treaty, which gave Australia effective control over the majority of oil and gas reserves beneath the 

Timor Sea—an area covering what, for a short period in the 1970s, was part 

of the East Timor exclusive economic zone. Not far below the aircraft were the 

graves of hundreds of thousands of East Timorese who had died under Suharto.46

United Nations Policy

The United Nations may have been quick to react; the reaction, however, 

was fractured and ineffectual. Prior to 1975 few knew anything about the tiny 

nation.47 By late 1975 intelligence on the Indonesian invasion was becoming 

available, and the UN General Assembly quickly voted on resolutions condemning the breach of sovereignty and calling for Indonesian troops to withdraw. The United States was an important exception; it knew of Indonesian 

intentions for East Timor prior to 1975. When the United Nations subsequently voted to condemn the invasion, the US abstained, sending a powerful 

message of support to Indonesia. When a small nation abstains, the effect is 

not very profound; when the regional hegemon and permanent member of 

the Security Council abstains, the effect is seismic. The Australians, who initially supported the UN resolutions, were urged by the United States to stop 

supporting calls for an Indonesian withdrawal. Portugal remained stoic, continuing to request UN sanctions.48 Indonesia reveled in the disagreement and 

confusion, accelerating efforts to annex East Timor, thus insuring Indonesia 

against a more coordinated UN effort.

The United Nations failed to acquire information that might have repaired 

its fractured resolve. The 1976 resolutions specifically urged the Indonesians 

to withdraw troops without delay. Indonesia countered by insisting there 

were no troops to withdraw. The uniformed men in Timor were apparently 

volunteers requested by indigenous anti-Fretilin forces. In an attempt to 

gather conclusive information, the secretary-general dispatched a special 

envoy to East Timor. Suharto restricted the UN envoy to Indonesian-controlled 

areas of Timor, ensuring Fretilin could not be contacted. The envoy’s report to 

the United Nations was useless, soliciting more questions than it answered. 

Despite the confusion, the United Nations persisted, passing 10 resolutions 

between 1975 and 1982. All of the resolutions supported East Timor’s right to 

self-determination. In 1983 the UN Commission on Human Rights also condemned the abuses in East Timor and called for self-determination.49 In the 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

44

end, no UN resolutions were enforced, and by the mid-1980s the East Timor 

issue had lost momentum.50

As the regional hegemon and a permanent member of the UN Security 

Council, the US response heavily influenced UN negotiations. Abstaining 

from the vote sent a powerful message: the US did not object to Indonesia’s 

treatment of East Timor. Even if a UN resolution were passed, who in the region would provide the military power to enforce the resolutions? Australia 

may have been in a position to reinforce Fretilin, but it had already been 

urged by the United States to change its position.51 Indonesia knew that US 

abstention meant military enforcement of UN resolutions was unlikely. 

Despite the lack of UN action, East Timor maintained a tenuous existence. 

By refusing to recognize Indonesian annexation of the tiny nation, the United 

Nations made a contribution to the survival of East Timor, providing hope to 

the Fretilin resistance and a platform for vocal activists such as Ramos-Horta. 

While international law may have proved ineffectual in upholding the rights 

of the East Timorese, it did ensure the issue of East Timor remained open.52

Analysis

It is difficult to evaluate the decision making of state actors in the 1970s 

and 1980s. We now have considerable detail regarding what transpired in 

Timor four decades ago. It is therefore easy to be critical of the decision makers. 

However, in the late 1970s and 1980s the Indonesians maintained North 

Korean-like secrecy in East Timor. In the 1970s Indonesia’s propaganda was 

not only fabricated, it was also fed to the international community in a slow 

stream of puzzling statements. Over the ensuing decades, governments, nongovernmental organizations, authors, and journalists gained enough accurate 

information to piece the puzzle together more precisely. However, for the initial years following the invasion, the disinformation coming from East Timor 

had profound effect. Significant elements of the international community believed the Indonesians were helping the East Timorese. Further complicating 

matters, the East Timorese voted for incorporation with Indonesia—albeit 

with a gun to their heads—and from June 1976 Suharto made it clear East 

Timor would be managed within Indonesian sovereign borders.

The Indonesian strategy included a Timor media blackout, the proliferation of state propaganda, and the brutal military control of the Timorese population. This strategy created an international smoke screen. With the implicit 

support of the United States, Suharto held the United Nations in contempt, 

giving the institution enough information to maintain its members in a 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

45

perpetual state of confusion. The lack of media attention and scarcity of nonIndonesian aid agencies on the ground meant international awareness of the 

situation was minimal. Stories leaking from the island were aggressively disputed by Jakarta, and with no third party telling the true story, confusion 

reigned. Accurate figures regarding loss of life were one example. An Indonesian church organization released the first death toll in 1979, four years after 

the invasion. Although probably unrelated, this release coincided with international media attention turning to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Further, 

Jakarta immediately disputed the figure, arguing that more than half the 

quoted numbers were Timorese escaping Fretilin. In essence, Suharto did 

enough to ensure there was insufficient momentum to generate an international backlash.

The United States was in this way responsible for the inaction in East Timor. 

In the same manner, the United States was responsible for many tragedies. When 

the United States made international decisions, there were positive consequences for many countries and adverse consequences for others. When 

viewed in isolation, criticism rightly flows for US policy in Southeast Asia and 

the resultant impact on East Timor. Indonesian troops were clearly no match 

for the US military. How could the leader of the free world allow the brutality 

to happen? Those standing in the streets of Dili as their families were massacred probably pondered that question. However, when viewed contextually, 

empathy for the US position surfaces. In the 1970s and 1980s, the scale of US 

international commitments was formidable. The United States, like many 

countries, was making difficult choices in a world of finite resources. It could 

not protect every man, woman, and child suffering in a human tragedy. Nor 

could it be held responsible for all the actions of every government it supported.

In the 1980s international politics was consumed by the ideological battle 

between communism and capitalism, or East versus West. The Soviets threatened 

the very existence of liberal democracy. At a macro level, diverting resources away 

from this battle was counterproductive. Suharto had significantly bolstered 

anticommunism in Southeast Asia. ASEAN had taken his lead, and other 

states, including Australia and New Zealand, welcomed his behavior in the 

region. While the situation in East Timor was regrettable, it was not sufficient 

to warrant isolating Indonesia. The United States supported Suharto because 

the benefits outweighed the costs by a significant margin. Any country trying 

to reverse the US position faced an uphill battle explaining why that cost/

benefit analysis was flawed.

Without US support, the Australians lacked the capacity to influence 

Suharto on East Timor. As months turned into years, the Indonesian position 

in East Timor became entrenched; ameliorating this situation became
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

46

correspondingly difficult. As a strong ally, Australia had the capacity to 

influence US decision making. But this capacity had limits, and the East Timor 

situation exceeded them. For Australia, condemning the United States and Indonesia would achieve nothing, serving only to damage Australia’s reputation 

as an influential international player.

The Australians chose to support the Indonesian government fully; an 

independent East Timor was seen as a lost cause. Much has been made of 

Australia’s decision to quash postinvasion condemnation of Suharto; however, it had little choice. As noted in chapter 2, prior to the invasion, Australia 

outlined to Suharto that the use of force would damage the Australia–Indonesia 

relationship. When Suharto used force, Australia condemned the invasion 

within the UN framework. Australia rightly acknowledged the significance of 

subsequent pressure from the United States and Indonesia, strategically crucial 

countries for Australia’s security situation. Australia accepted the irreversible 

nature of the invasion and the paradox of supporting UN condemnation 

while at the same time seeking stronger security ties with United States and 

Indonesia.

Was there a missed window of opportunity for the Australians to alter the 

course of East Timor history? Hypothetically, reversing Australia’s position 

on East Timor reveals the enormity of such a task. The United States determined the fate of the East Timorese through its support for Indonesia. Just as 

assessed in the previous chapter, the most effective way for Australia to influence US decision making was to (1) realign established great power policy in 

line with regional objectives, (2) be willing to offer viable solutions to pursue 

these objectives, and, (3) be capable of executing combat missions in support 

of these objectives.

First, the Australians would have had to convince the United States it had 

self-interest in supporting the Fretilin resistance. Essentially, Australia could 

have argued US security interests were better served by compelling Suharto to 

withdraw forces as opposed to allowing them to stay in place. One potential 

avenue for change was an Australian appeal to the United States regarding 

fabricated Indonesian intelligence prior to the invasion. By the early 1980s it 

was becoming clear that Suharto’s assurances to Ford regarding East Timor 

communism were inaccurate, as were the claims that no Indonesian soldiers 

were in the country; the international community had been duped. Australia 

would have had to argue this was a travesty requiring rectification. Unfortunately, this avenue would have still failed to support US core policy. The 

United States was unlikely to move resources from the communist struggle to 

an archipelago where there was now no communist threat. Further, what 

would Suharto’s response to Australia’s claims have been? Most likely he 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

47

would have disputed them, arguing the communist threat was only one aspect 

of his justification—pointing again to the abandonment of East Timor by Portugal 

and the need to stabilize the region. Suharto remained strategically important 

to consecutive 1980s US administrations; invalidating this importance would 

have required a stronger argument than a quest to correct an intelligence error.

Australia could also have appealed to the tragic humanitarian situation in 

East Timor. Indonesia was not only incapable of addressing the East Timorese 

tragedy, it also appeared to be contributing to it. After years of violence, the 

East Timorese deserved an UN-supervised vote on the issue of self-determination. 

This is a stronger case, taking advantage of existing UN resolutions calling for 

Indonesian withdrawal. For the case to be argued effectively, the humanitarian situation would have had to be accurately ascertained. But Suharto had 

no obligation to allow UN envoys into his territory. The UN Responsibility to 

Protect (R2P) was not established until 2005. In the 1980s there were no UN 

laws extending beyond breaches of sovereignty. Regardless of whether the 

United Nations recognized it, as far as Suharto was concerned, East Timor 

was Indonesian territory. This would not have ruled out UN action; however, 

it complicated matters. If Suharto failed to invite the UN peacekeeping force 

to enter East Timor, he could rightly argue the United Nations was invading.

Envisaging a situation where Suharto would have extended an invitation to 

the United Nations, without being pressured by the United States, is incomprehensible. Even if the Australians somehow managed to compel the United 

States to remove Indonesian support, it is doubtful the United States would 

have pushed its leverage beyond diplomatic rhetoric. While the United States 

had plenty of leverage over the Indonesians—supplying financial aid and the 

bulk of Indonesian military equipment—the United States knew the Soviets 

were seeking new arms markets too. In the Cold War, diplomatic leverage 

worked both ways.

The only other hope for the East Timorese was the release of graphic footage depicting the Indonesian atrocities. The East Timor population lacked 

food and water, but no one owned video cameras. Footage of the atrocities 

would have required journalists in country. Indonesia had banned foreign 

reporters from East Timor; those who chose to ignore the ban had a habit of 

disappearing. The treatment of the Balibo Five attested to this. Despite the 

Catholic Church’s efforts to highlight the situation, the East Timorese population, the United Nations, and crusaders such as Ramos-Horta, triggering media 

coverage capable of sparking change remained ephemeral.

Creating momentum for US change was beyond Australia’s capacity. Indonesia was an anticommunist Asian powerhouse. Suharto was in favor with US 

administrations, and the United States was focused on problems beyond 
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

48

Southeast Asia—the Iran–Iraq War, the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, and 

the broader fight to contain communism. The United States had little incentive to invest in East Timor. Australia, although an influential regional country 

and strong US ally, was wise not to expend political capital in pursuit of the 

impossible.

The above analysis addresses the first criteria of the chapter 2 framework 

and reveals Australia had no capacity to realign established great-power 

policy with regional objectives. The second and third aspects of the framework can be addressed concurrently. It is reasonable to assume Australia was 

capable of offering a military solution to securing the eastern half of Timor. It 

is also reasonable to assume Australia’s commitment to its 1980s defense budget 

and recent history fighting insurgent and conventional forces in Vietnam 

meant Australia was capable of executing a combat mission in East Timor. 

However, this latent ability to offer solutions and execute missions would 

require the opening of a window of opportunity. Provided the Cold War 

continued, there was little chance of this happening.

There was no window of opportunity available for Australia to alter the 

East Timor situation between 1976 and the end of the Cold War. Like many 

small countries, Australia simply lacked the capacity to influence US decision 

making. Remaining indifferent to the East Timorese fate, while tragic, provided Australia with continuing strong relations with the United States and 

amicable relations with Indonesia. This allowed Australia to enter the post–

Cold War period in an influential position. As history would demonstrate, 

Australia took advantage of excess US capacity in the wake of the Soviet 

Union’s collapse to make East Timor eventually a US priority.

This bleak conclusion of the Cold War era takes nothing away from a tragic 

reality: throughout the 1980s the East Timor people were not protected from 

a flagrant disregard of international law. Unfortunately, from an internationalrelations perspective, it comes as no surprise that international law is disregarded in the face of strong geopolitical forces.53

The next chapter investigates events following the collapse of the Soviet 

Union. With the end of the Cold War, Indonesia lost diplomatic value as anticommunist partner of the United States. As reports of Indonesian atrocities 

continued into the 1990s, the United States, Australia, and the United Nations 

once again had ample opportunity to revisit their inaction over East Timor.

Notes

1. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 139.

2. Dunn, East Timor, 277.
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

49

3. Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide,” 173.

4. Dunn, East Timor, 292.

5. Ibid., 245.

6. Ibid., 253, 260.

7. Carey and Bentley, East Timor at the Crossroads, 97.

8. Dunn, East Timor, 271.

9. Ibid., 283.

10. Kilcullen, Accidental Guerrilla, 207.

11. Dunn, East Timor, 274.

12. Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide,” 173.

13. Dunn, East Timor, 287.

14. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 155.

15. Dunn, East Timor, 298.

16. Ibid., 155, 265.

17. Ibid., 254–55.

18. Ibid., 268–269, 294.

19. Ben Kiernan, “War, Genocide, and Resistance in East Timor, 1975–99: Comparative 

Reflections on Cambodia,” in War and State Terrorism: The United States, Japan, and the AsiaPacific in the Long Twentieth Century, edited by Mark Seldon and Alvin Y. So (New York: Rowman 

& Littlefield, 2004), 222, http://gsp.yale.edu/sites/default/files/03-263_ch_09.pdf.

20. Dunn, East Timor, 257.

21. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 139.

22. Jerry Sweeney, “A Matter of Small Consequence, U.S. Foreign Policy and the Tragedy of 

East Timor,” Independent Review 7, no. n.1 (Summer 2002), 96.

23. Dunn, East Timor, 152.

24. Ibid., 250. 

25. Ibid.

26. Ibid., 330.

27. General Assembly, United Nations, “General Assembly Resolutions (1975-1982),” East 

Timor and Indonesia Action Network (website), n.d., http://etan.org/etun/genasRes.htm.

28. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 238.

29. Dunn, East Timor, 331.

30. Robinson, “‘If You Leave Us Here,’” 163.

31. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 22.

32. Kiernan, “Cover-up and Denial of Genocide,” 173.

33. Dunn, East Timor, 311–13.

34. Joyce P. Kaufman, A Concise History of U.S. Foreign Policy, Kindle ed., (Plymouth, UK: 

Rowman & Littlefield, 2010).

35. Dunn, East Timor, 314.

36. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 164.

37. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 22. 

38. Donald L. Barlett and James B. Steele, “The Oily Americans,” Time Magazine, 13 May 

2003, http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,450997-92,00.html.

39. Francis P. Sempa, “U.S. National Security Doctrines Historically Viewed: A Commentary,” 

American Diplomacy (online journal), April 2004, http://www.unc.edu/depts/diplomat/archives

_roll/2004_04-06/sempa_nsd/sempa_nsd.html.
THE COLD WAR YEARS, 1976–89

50

40. National Archives of Australia: A10463, 801113/1111, xix, cited in Way et al., Australia 

and the Indonesian Incorporation, 657.

41. Ishizuka, Australia’s Policy towards East Timor, 274.

42. Ibid., 275.

43. Dunn, East Timor, 287.

44. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 179. 

45. Ishizuka, Australia’s Policy towards East Timor, 276.

46. John Pilger, “Australia Ignores the Plight of the East Timorese, but Keeps a Watchful 

Eye on Their Oil and Gas,” johnpilger.com (blog), 11 December 2000, http://johnpilger.com

/articles/australia-ignores-the-plight-of-the-east-timorese-but-keeps-a-watchful-eye-on

-their-oil-and-gas.

47. Dunn, East Timor, 318.

48. Sweeney, “A Matter of Small Consequence,” 96.

49. Dunn, East Timor, 318–19, 325.

50. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 241. 

51. Ishizuka, Australia’s Policy towards East Timor, 275. 

52. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 155. 

53. Ibid., 153.
51

Chapter 5

The Post–Cold War Years, 1989–99

Indonesia’s president Suharto invaded East Timor in 1975, ostensibly to 

prevent communism spreading in the Indonesian archipelago. The end of the 

Cold War and the survival of the East Timor resistance provided pause for 

thought. If global communism were in retreat, then perhaps the East 

Timorese were no longer a security threat. For Suharto, the geopolitical context was inconsequential. East Timor was part of Indonesia, and that was not 

going to change. Throughout the 1990s, Portugal and the United Nations provided a voice for the East Timorese independence movement, but the trio was 

little match for Indonesian opposition. Their opponent was powerful for two 

reasons: the United Nations would not commit troops on Indonesian sovereign 

territory without an invitation, and the Indonesians were supported by Australia and the United States. If the East Timorese were going to prevail in their 

struggle for independence, at the very least, they would need the United States 

to support them. In a strange twist of fate, the Asian financial crisis triggered 

the changes they needed.

Events in East Timor

To resist is to win.

—Xanana Gusmão

The end of the Cold War significantly altered the strategic situation in 

Southeast Asia. The 1989 revolutions in Central and Eastern Europe signaled 

that communist expansion had ended. The collapse of the Soviet Union meant 

US power dwarfed its nearest competitor. China remained influential in 

Southeast Asia; but America’s Pacific allies included Japan, the Philippines, 

Thailand, Singapore, Australia, and New Zealand. In the 1990s, the United 

States wielded more unilateral power than any country had in centuries, and 

its allies reinforced this dominance. The spread of communism had been 

halted. As a result, the US desire for support from nonallied regional countries was commensurably diminished. Countries such as Indonesia were in 

this category, as their only tangible commonality with the United States had 

been a zealous aversion to communism, and their stand no longer trumped 

human rights abuses.
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

52

The end of the Cold War may have altered the geopolitical landscape, but it 

changed little for the East Timorese. The Indonesians continued with their 

brutality, persisting with the resettlement program and diluting the East Timorese population. Indonesian civilians, enticed by government-provided 

land and employment, moved into East Timor in the tens of thousands.1

 In 

the early 1990s, the TNI regularly warned the local populations that any protest against integration with Indonesia would result in their being shot. For 

the indigenous population, life in Dili was a life of fear. Dozens of army bases 

and torture houses—designed to break the will of the East Timor resistance—

littered the community.2

The resistance movement provided domestic hope for the East Timorese 

and an organization to which Portugal, the United Nations, and human rights 

groups could rally. By the 1990s, the Fretilin’s Falintil fighters were a diminished insurgency, yet their persistent struggle meant the jungle remained contested terrain for the TNI, which rarely ventured there. Although Fretilin 

maintained links to the resettlement villages and underground networks in 

most towns, by 1999 only 200 Falintil fighters remained in remote jungle 

hideouts.3

 Still, their survival was more important than their numbers. To its 

international supporters, Falintil symbolized the East Timorese struggle, 

while the Fretilin leaders represented the government in waiting.4

 Nonetheless, with scant media coverage and little political momentum, the wait 

seemed interminable.

The November 1991 Santa Cruz massacre triggered some momentum for 

the resistance. An East Timorese memorial procession had been organized to 

commemorate the killing of a pro-independence youth, Sebastião Gomes, by 

the TNI. The procession turned into an anti-integration demonstration. At 

one point, Indonesian soldiers were ordered to fire into the demonstration 

without warning. The crowd fled into the nearby Santa Cruz cemetery, where 

the soldiers commenced bayoneting and shooting the protesters. In all, 271 

were killed, 382 wounded, and 250 were reported missing.

5

 US journalists Allan 

Nairn and Amy Goodman were present while the TNI conducted the slaughter. 

The soldiers attacked Nairn and Goodman but spared their lives. After the 

violence, Nairn recalled that Gen Try Sutrisno, the national commander of 

the Indonesian Armed Forces, stated, “These Timorese are disrupters; such 

people must be shot . . . and we will shoot them.”6

 Footage emerged of the 

indiscriminate violence administered by the Indonesian troops. When combined with the stories of Nairn and Goodman, it made for powerful journalism. The story of the massacre triggered a contentious international debate, 

breathing life into the struggle for independence.7
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

53

As international momentum developed, Xanana Gusmão and José RamosHorta emerged as the international symbols of East Timorese resistance. 

Gusmão, leader of Fretilin, had united the sectarian elements that sparked the 

1975 civil war. He sought to focus the Timorese on national unity, not on any 

particular ideology.8

 He established the National Council of Maubere Resistance (CNRM) and appointed Ramos-Horta as the representative of CNRM 

abroad. The increased press coverage from the Santa Cruz massacre combined with Ramos-Horta’s efforts to improve levels of foreign aid and involvement from human rights organizations.9

In this way, East Timor’s plight received heightened international attention 

throughout the 1990s. In 1992 the Indonesians arrested Gusmão for subversion and sentenced him to life in a Javanese prison. His capture and detention 

further inspired the East Timor resistance—many drawing similarities to the 

unifying effect of Nelson Mandela’s imprisonment in South African.10 In 1996 

the resistance leader Ramos-Horta and Acting Bishop of Dili Carlos Belo 

were jointly award the Nobel Peace Prize for their “work towards a just and 

peaceful solution to the conflict in East Timor.”11

The Nobel recognition further publicized the East Timorese plight, contradicting Indonesian claims that no conflict existed. The persuasiveness of 

Ramos-Horta’s legal and moral argument drew attention to the basic denial 

of East Timorese human rights. More importantly, these developments highlighted that due to the international community’s failure to act against the 

1975 invasion, the East Timorese had paid the price for the United Nations’ 

unwillingness to uphold its charter. To placate international observers, 

Suharto opened East Timor’s borders to limited foreign aid, although still 

tightly controlling journalism. Despite increasing awareness, very little real 

change was realized. In essence, the global political response was compassionate rhetoric. Suharto maintained his grip on power and his hold over the 

East Timorese.

Indonesian Policy

Totalitarian power is strong only if it does not have to be used too 

often. If totalitarian power must be used at all times against the entire 

population, it is unlikely to remain powerful for long.

—Karl W. Deutsch

In 1989, for the first time since the invasion, Suharto opened East Timor’s 

districts to foreigners.12 This initiative was designed to placate international 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

54

criticism of the East Timor travel restrictions. However, far from improving 

the lives of the Timorese, the removal of the travel restrictions made life more 

dangerous. Fearing unrest during planned international visits, the TNI and 

police stepped up their control of the population. Prior to a planned 1991 visit 

by a Portuguese delegation, the military and police visited every school in 

East Timor telling students that anyone mounting a demonstration would be 

shot.13 The defiance of these warnings led to numerous violent recriminations, including the Santa Cruz massacre. For the East Timorese this massacre 

was not out of the ordinary; the unique aspect was the film footage that made 

its way to international attention.

Suharto reacted to the filming of the massacres with contempt. He denied 

the United Nations access to his territory and refused to subject his army to 

an UN investigation, insisting instead that the Indonesians would conduct 

the inquiry. Following the trial, the Indonesian officers responsible for ordering the violence were given light sentences—many of them continuing on to 

higher ranks within the military. For inciting the violence, the East Timorese 

protestors were given heavier jail sentences.14 The cynical inadequacy of the 

process attracted more international attention to the East Timorese cause. Ali 

Alatas was the Indonesian foreign minister at the time. He later acknowledged 

the handling of the massacre was a “turning point” for the independence 

movement in East Timor.15 The footage and the subsequent trial shocked 

many nations, including those that had traditionally supported Indonesia.16

Ramos-Horta’s 1996 Nobel Peace Prize furthered the momentum stemming from the Santa Cruz massacre. Horta’s prize sent “shock waves through 

Jakarta’s political establishment.”17 The international recognition of RamosHorta was an irritant for Suharto; precisely at the time Indonesia was promoting its credentials as a nation on the path to genuine democracy.18

By 1997 Indonesia’s power had begun to wane. The Asian economic crisis 

devastated the Indonesian economy, and Suharto’s leadership came into question. Protests and riots broke out across the archipelago; the Indonesian people 

were openly objecting to Suharto’s management of the country. With foreign 

supporters and investment turning away and his population turning against 

him, Suharto resigned on 21May 1998. Vice Pres. Bacharuddin Jusuf Habibie 

took control.19 Needing to convince international friends that Indonesia was 

a democratic country worthy of investment, Habibie (1998–99) distanced 

himself from Suharto’s policies.20

Indonesia’s woes permeated deeper than changes in political leadership 

could counter. Habibie was immediately pressured by the International Monetary Fund to reduce spending. Military spending was singled out as an especially large burden on Jakarta’s budget, and the attractive prospect of reducing 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

55

military presence in Timor prompted Habibie to commence UN-sponsored 

talks with Portugal regarding East Timor’s future.21 In June 1998, just one 

month after Suharto resigned, Habibie recommended East Timor be given 

special status under Indonesian state control. In January 1999 Habibie surprised everyone by going further, stating that if East Timor would not accept 

Indonesian rule, he would recommend to the Indonesian People’s Consultative Assembly that control of the territory be relinquished.22

In East Timor, the TNI did not agree with Habibie’s plan. Fearing an independent East Timor would reveal their crimes, alarm quickly spread through 

TNI and police ranks. According to Australia’s Defence Intelligence Organisation (DIO), rather than supporting Habibie, TNI leadership “embarked on 

a finely judged and orchestrated strategy to retain East Timor as part of Indonesia. All necessary force was to be employed, but with maximum deniability, 

maintaining public adherence to Indonesian commitments under the agreement while privately subverting the process of self-determination.”23 Reports 

of violence subsequently emerged from all over East Timor. Independence 

leaders and their followers were attacked and killed, while stories of hand 

grenades being thrown into Catholic Church congregations became public. 

Many of those fleeing the violence were shot or attacked with machetes. In 

one report, DIO outlined that militants “had fired tear gas into the church and 

[TNI] apparently did not intervene when the pro-independence activists 

were attacked.”24 In general, the TNI and police supported the militants “as 

passive observers and active participants.”25 However, the brutality in mid1999 was a prelude to the violent Indonesian reaction that would follow the 

September 1999 self-determination vote dubbed the popular consultation. A 

description of the aftermath follows the policy analysis below.

Portuguese Policy 

Portugal, like the United Nations, was able to do only a limited amount for 

the East Timorese. Portugal’s 1975 abandonment of the colony continued to 

hobble its diplomatic leverage both within and outside the United Nations. 

Throughout the 1990s Lisbon remained tarnished as the originator of the 

problem. In 1991 Portugal took Australia to the International Commission of 

Jurists (ICJ) for exploiting the Timor Gap oil and gas seabed. The Australians 

responded furiously to the Portuguese complaints, highlighting the hypocrisy 

of Portuguese colonial abandonment in 1975 followed by a defense of the 

colony’s financial interests decades later.26 In the wake of the Santa Cruz massacre, Portugal held a national day of mourning. The violence had occurred in 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

56

an identifiably Portuguese cemetery. Accordingly, scenes of a former colonial 

population being slaughtered were highly emotional for the Portuguese population.27 While Portuguese efforts failed to help the Timorese directly, they 

did manage to raise East Timor’s profile within the European Community 

(EC), the predecessor to the European Union. This was particularly apparent 

during Portugal’s 1992 presidency of the European Community.28 If nothing 

else, Portugal’s dedication to its former colony served to complement the 

work of Gusmão and Ramos-Horta.

Portuguese lobbying efforts with the European Community and United 

Nations allowed them to be well positioned when Habibie offered East Timor 

special autonomy in 1998.29 Indonesia and Portugal had participated in fruitless meetings for years while attempting to solve the East Timor issue. However, in 1997 one of these meetings discussed an autonomy option within 

Indonesia rule. Habibie then adopted this language in 1998, while attempting 

to negotiate an internationally acceptable solution.30 Portugal realized it 

lacked the power to challenge Indonesia directly. By keeping the issue alive, 

however, Lisbon fulfilled a limited but useful role. 

United States Policy

We pride ourselves, and I think properly so, in standing up for

human rights.

—Pres. George H. W. Bush, 1991

Big countries with powerful military machines should not be permitted 

to invade, occupy, and brutalize their peaceful neighbors.

—Secretary of State James Baker, 1991

I’m very concerned about what’s happened in East Timor. We have 

ignored it so far in ways that I think are unconscionable.

—Pres. Bill Clinton, 1992

No policy is advanced with the plea that, although this will hurt my 

country, it will help others. 

—Kenneth Waltz, 2001

In 1989, the world geopolitical structure changed from a bipolar struggle 

between communism and capitalism to one dominated by the United States. 
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57

Indonesia remained important, to be sure, but the collapse of the Soviet Union 

reduced the security value of the US–Indonesian strategic alignment.31 Indonesia’s successful venture into capitalism meant US economic interests filled 

that strategic void. However, eight years after the Cold War ended, the 1997 

Asian financial crisis exposed Suharto’s existence atop a pile of “crony capitalism.”32 With strategic and business interests waning, the United States became 

apathetic toward Indonesian relations. Still, it would take more than US indifference to end the East Timorese misery.

The collapse of the Soviet Union handed the United States unrivaled global 

power. Psychologist Abraham Maslow argues that when you have the world’s 

largest hammer, every problem looks like a nail.33 The United States had the 

world’s largest hammer, yet Maslow’s hammer was not a concept to which the 

United States ascribed. Post–Cold War US presidents were inclined to make 

the same commitment as post–World War II president John F. Kennedy. The 

United States could not help everyone and had to be selective when offering 

assistance. This selectivity was revealed early in Pres. Bill Clinton’s administration. The realist approach described earlier is evident. Declassified in 2007, 

the 1994 Presidential Decision Directive 25 (PDD25), Reforming Multilateral 

Peace Operations, outlined the criteria for US peacekeeping operations. Clinton 

stipulated six conditions for troop commitment to peace operations. Two of 

the criteria concerned funding and command arrangements. The remaining 

four criteria provide insight into US reluctance to commit troops in East 

Timor. According to PDD25, for UN operations to qualify for US troop 

participation, the involvement had to advance US interests, have substantial 

US public support, be necessary for the success of the UN mission, and have 

an end point identified.34 These criteria were clearly not met in the case of 

East Timor.

First, the most notable of the criteria was that the mission must advance US 

interests. Intervening in East Timor could not be shown to advance US interests 

in any meaningful way. Despite the reduced strategic value of Indonesia in the 

post-Cold War period, aspects of the US-Indonesia relationship were burgeoning. By the mid-1990s, the Indonesian economy was growing at seven 

percent per annum, and US business opportunities were being realized. In 

1994, the Clinton administration signed a $30 billion deal for Exxon to 

extract Indonesia’s natural gas reserves.35 When Suharto visited Washington 

in 1995, “the Cabinet room was jammed with top officials ready to welcome 

him.”36 Clinton made brief remarks regarding repressive Indonesian military 

behavior before seeking Suharto’s support for open markets in Asia. A senior 

Clinton staff member commented that Suharto was, “... our kind of guy” and 

“The message of his visit was clear: this is the kind of relationship we want to 
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58

have with China.”37 The Cold-War strategic value of Indonesia had been replaced 

by the post-war economic value of US business opportunities. US involvement in 

East Timorese peace-keeping operations would complicate this effort. 

The second PDD25 criterion was the requirement for substantial public 

support for the UN operation. Amy Goodman and Allan Nairn had brought 

attention to the East Timor plight through their reports of the 1991 Santa 

Cruz massacre. However, the US twenty-four hour news cycle and the US 

population’s general unfamiliarity with the region meant the issue failed to 

permeate the conscience of the people.38 There was a little more reaction in 

Washington. Following the Santa Cruz massacre, Congress suspended military training support for Indonesia.39 However, the State Department later 

revealed the Indonesians had kept purchasing US training with their own 

funds. The US also continued arms sales to Indonesia throughout the 1990s.40

To its credit, the US State Department began to report the situation in East 

Timor more accurately, including highlighting the torture being used to control the population.41 US public support did exist in the 1990s, but there was 

not “domestic political and congressional support for US participation” required by the guidance in PDD25.42 Henry Kissinger, US Secretary of State 

(1973-1977), epitomized the opinion of the US population. In 1995 he dismissed East Timor as, “a little speck in a huge archipelago.”43 During the 1999 

crisis, Washington’s attitude remained consistent. US National Security Adviser Sandy Berger argued the US had the same responsibility in East Timor 

as he had for cleaning his daughter’s apartment.44

The third criterion in PDD25 was that US participation would be necessary for the success of the mission. The US believed its presence simply was 

not required in Indonesia. Even during the self-determination popular consultation, Habibie assured the international community that Indonesia’s TNI 

would deter the militia and maintain security for the population. Behind the 

scenes, the TNI were arming and coordinating the militia, or moonlighting as 

the militia themselves.45 This mattered little—the US decision was that Habibie 

did not need UN intervention to solve the East Timor problem. This conclusion held firm until almost two weeks after the post-ballot violence; Australia’s offer to rush troops to East Timor under a UN banner was not supported 

by the US.46

Finally, PDD25 implied that the United States would not be involved in 

long-term nation building. PDD25 stipulated, “an end point for U.S. participation can be identified.”47 There was no end-point identified for East Timor 

during the 1990s. There was little appreciation of the problem, let alone a solution. UN planning was limited to facilitating the popular consultation for 

the Timorese, beyond that was the manifest enormity of rebuilding a shattered 
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59

nation. The timeframe for this was an enigma, as the UN’s withdrawal from 

East Timor in 2013 attests. 

In the light of PDD25, US involvement in UN intervention in East Timor 

was always unlikely. It is unsurprising that throughout the 1990s the US distance itself from East Timor. Even as the violence following the 1999 vote 

began to escalate, the US chose to monitor rather than become involved. 

Throughout the 1990s, East Timor remained absent from US national interest.

Australian Policy 

We have to balance questions of international morality against the 

pragmatic acceptance of irreversible fact. 

—Australian Foreign Minister Gareth Evans, 1990

The end of the Cold War changed little in the strategic relationship between 

Australia and Indonesia. Similar to the US-Indonesia relationship, business 

was the priority for the Australian government. While Indonesia was only 

Australia’s tenth-largest trading partner, Australia had an interest in a strong 

Indonesian economy. In the wake of the Asian financial crisis, Australia 

clearly demonstrated its desire for a stable Indonesian economy, offering the 

Indonesians a $1 billion loan.48 Even the 1991 Santa Cruz massacres failed to 

damage the relationship. Despite international outrage at the atrocity in Dili, 

Gareth Evans, Australian Foreign Minister (1988-1996), described the Dili 

massacre as an “an aberration.”49 Evans’ thoughts on foreign policy encapsulate Australia’s approach to Indonesia for much of the 1990s.

Strident and aggressive condemnation of what to us is unconscionable behavior may be good for domestic morale—and may sometimes be the right 

note to strike for maximum effect, especially when accompanied by an international chorus. But more often than not, quite apart from any risk to other 

aspects of the relationship, this kind of approach will be counter-productive 

in that it will generate a wounded, defensive reaction more likely to reinforce 

than undermine the behavior pattern in question.50

Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating (1991-1996) made it clear that Indonesia, not East Timor, was Australia’s priority. On his return from Indonesia after the Santa Cruz massacre, Keating privately advised fellow members 

of Parliament that “President Suharto was the best thing in strategic terms 

that had happened to us; by bringing stability to the archipelago he has minimized the Australian defence budget.”51 When the US Congress cut off Indonesian military training in the wake of the Santa Cruz massacres, Keating 
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60

pursued closer military ties with Indonesia. This included carrying out more 

military exercises with Indonesia than with any other country.52

In the early 1990s Indonesia’s accelerating economy presented attractive 

opportunities for Australia. Exports to Indonesia were, “booming ... and delivering handy surpluses to Canberra.”53 Australians were investing in Indonesia, too. Coal, gold mining, and banking were lucrative. For their part, Indonesian companies were heavily investing in Australian property 

development and pastoral industries.54 As a result, the Australian government 

was keen to get East Timor off the agenda and focus on business—in particular, 

the oil-rich Timor Sea area.55 Evans described the Timor Gap Oil Treaty as, 

“the most substantial bilateral agreement ever reached between our two countries 

and illustrates eloquently how differences between the two systems can be 

overcome for our mutual benefit.”56 Keating took this relationship further, 

using his close personal relationship with Suharto as a stepping-stone toward 

Indonesia’s first-ever bilateral security agreement, the 1995 Agreement to 

Maintain Security (AMS).57

While the two governments were cooperating, the Australian public’s 

opinion of the Suharto regime was beginning to erode. By the mid 1990s, 

opinion polls consistently revealed doubt in the minds of ordinary Australians as to the strategic intentions of their northern neighbor.58 This growing 

divide between Australian strategic policy and the wishes of the Australian 

people was reflected in processes surrounding the AMS agreement. Evans argued the agreement had to be made in secrecy, because it wasn’t appropriate 

for negotiations to be “thrown off the rails by people getting very excited 

about things before it’s appropriate.”59 Public opinion, while often inconvenient, can provide a litmus test for good public policy. Evans alluded to Australian mistakes in the 1990s when, in a frank admission in 2001, he acknowledged that some of Australia’s policies in the 1990s, “helped only to produce 

more professional human rights abusers.”60

While the Australian-Indonesian relationship remained strong under 

Suharto, Australia’s 1994 Defence White Paper, Defending Australia, reflected 

an appreciation that the collapse of the Soviet Union had changed the geopolitical environment in Southeast Asia. With the battle to contain communism over, Australia predicted the US would no longer seek or accept responsibility for maintaining stability in the region. The obvious implication for 

Australian policy makers was that they needed new policies encompassing a 

wider range of scenarios. Accordingly, by the mid-1990s Australia was developing a military more capable of independently shaping outcomes in the region.61 This development was critical to addressing the third criteria in the 

process outlined in Chapter 2. 
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61

In 1996, the Liberal Party’s John Howard was elected prime minister. While 

in opposition, Howard condemned aspects of the 1980s Australian approach 

to the East Timor problem.62 He believed the previous government had failed 

to manage national security effectively.63 His allegiance, however, remained 

with the Indonesians, and from 1996 to 1998 there was little talk of reinvigorating the East Timor debate. When the Asian financial crisis took hold in 

1997, Australia did not perceive a weakened Indonesia as creating a window 

of opportunity in East Timor. The Australian government was focused on 

economic concerns, and did not want instability in Indonesia to degrade 

prosperity in Australia.64

Between 1996 and 1998, pragmatic realism dominated the IndonesianAustralian diplomatic relationship. However, there were embryonic signs the 

Australian public wanted more done in East Timor. In 1997, the Australian 

opposition government began to passionately debate a new policy on East 

Timor.65 By 1998 Howard found an increasing number of influential groups 

had become vehement in their support for the East Timorese. This included 

the Catholic Church, ex-military service organizations, and numerous NGOs. 

This new attention complemented the efforts of Jose Ramos-Horta, who had 

been campaigning broadly in Australia for the previous decade.66 Howard 

welcomed the debate. He knew that if an opportunity arose to pressure the 

Indonesians on East Timor, then public opinion in Australia would determine his options.67

In December 1998, Howard took a bold step with Indonesia’s new president. The Asian financial crisis had weakened the international image of Indonesia and eroded its power. Howard saw an opportunity to take control of 

the Australian narrative regarding East Timor.68 In December 1998, he wrote 

to Habibie concerning the future of East Timor. The letter was a “catalyst for 

the events of 1999,” but not in the way Howard intended.69 Habibie reacted 

strongly against the letter, taking offense to the offer of help from Australia to 

solve the East Timor issue.70 The Indonesian-Australian relationship then descended to its lowest point since the Sukarno era 30 years prior.71 Nevertheless, Habibie’s anger at Australia likely motivated him to act. 

In June 1998 Habibie recommend East Timor be given special status under 

Indonesia’s control. Despite there being no direct link, immediately after 

Howard’s letter Habibie surprised the region by announcing that if East Timor 

would not accept Indonesian rule, the East Timorese could become independent.72 As a result, the UN began preparation for the popular consultation.

Habibie insisted the TNI and police would provide security for the event. 

However, in March 1999, a DIO Current Intelligence Brief revealed the strong 

link between the TNI and the pro-Indonesian militants operating in East 
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62

Timor. The military was not providing security. They were operating with the 

militants, including directly firing on independence supporters. The report 

concluded that the TNI could easily control the militants, but had chosen not 

to.73 In April 1999, Howard pressured Habibie to allow a UN peacekeeping 

force to provide security for the ballot.74 Habibie declined. 

Howard may have taken the initiative regarding East Timor’s future, but he 

could not provide the security it required. Australia needed support from the 

US in order to further pressure Habibie, but the US would not act. As noted 

in the previous section, committing to East Timor was not in the US national 

interest. For Howard, it was a disappointing time in the alliance.75 As the crisis 

developed, the US Departments of State and Defense refused get involved. 

They argued that current commitments in the Iraq no-fly zone, along with 

recent commitments in Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo, meant East Timor 

involvement was out of the question. US national-interest did not include 

East Timor, and Australia lacked the capacity to alter that perception.76

United Nations Policy 

Under the terms of the agreement signed in New York, responsibility 

for all aspects of security lay with the Indonesian police. And far from 

being the solution, the Indonesian police, along with the Indonesian 

Army, were the root cause of the misery that followed.

—Kira Brunner

The New Killing Fields

The UN could have said no, and the whole thing would have been 

called off . . . and for the next twenty-three years, we’d have had 

chunks ripped out of our sides for the great opportunity that we’d 

thrown up. But we didn’t, and we’re here. The system’s not perfect, in 

fact it’s terrible, and God knows what’s going to happen before this is 

over. But it will get done, and whatever happens, the world will see it.

—UN Staff Member

East Timor, 1999

UN leaders pledged to make the 1990s a decade of change in the observance of international human rights.77 Accordingly, the post-Cold War years 

contained numerous UN efforts to negotiate a solution between Portugal, Indonesia, and the people of East Timor. Despite failing to solve the East Timor 

crisis for over two decades, the UN refused to give up on the Timorese. The 
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63

UN partnered with Portugal to keep the East Timor independence debate 

unresolved, and without these efforts the East Timor resistance may have 

faded into obscurity. 

In the early 1990s, UN efforts to assist East Timor failed with tragic, yet 

important consequences. In October 1991 a Portuguese parliamentary delegation, working with the resistance, was scheduled to visit Dili as part of the 

UN tripartite process. This process was aimed at Indonesia, Portugal, and the 

UN finding a solution to East Timor. The local Timorese had planned an independence demonstration to coincide with the visit. The Portuguese cancelled at short notice, and the visit was abandoned. However, the TNI was 

informed of the planned demonstration. The TNI killed pro-independence 

Sebastião Gomes the next day in retribution. The demonstration planned for 

the Portuguese delegation was replaced with a march to Sebastião’s place of 

rest—what followed was the Santa Cruz massacre. The footage of the massacre 

shocked the international community. The UN’s decade of change had clearly 

not extended to East Timor. The UN Commission on Human Rights quickly 

passed a resolution critical of Indonesian practices in East Timor; but the 

declaration proved hollow once again, as there was no protection offered to 

the Timorese. Despite no change in the security environment, East Timor had 

become the subject of an international political debate. The European Parliament, the US, Canada, and the Netherlands were compelled either to condemn Indonesia or suspend aid.78

The international backlash from the Santa Cruz massacres quickly subsided, but the UN persisted in its efforts to negotiate a solution. In 1995 UN 

Secretary-General  Boutros Boutros-Ghali  initiated  a process to promote a 

dialogue among East Timorese. The forum was designed to allow East  Timorese of all shades of political opinion to explore ideas for improving the 

situation.79 In 1997 the new UN Secretary-General, Kofi Annan, persuaded 

Indonesia and Portugal to begin talks on East Timor. UN troubleshooter Jamshed Marker of Pakistan took the lead, while Annan involved himself heavily, 

meeting with the foreign ministers of Indonesia and Portugal on a regular 

basis.80 Again, nothing eventuated from the dialogue, other than enriching 

the debate. There was a lot of talking, but little action. It appeared that gross 

violations of human rights alone were insufficient fuel for action. 

The Asian financial crisis emerged in July 1997, and the subsequent fall of 

Suharto led to greater UN involvement in East Timor. In June 1998 Habibie 

proposed autonomy for East Timor on condition the territory accepted integration into Indonesia. East Timorese resistance leaders initially rejected the 

proposal. However, the UN stepped in to sponsor subsequent negotiations. 

Annan and the Foreign Ministers of Indonesia and Portugal held in-
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64

depth  discussions on Indonesia’s proposals for a special status based on a 

wide-ranging autonomy for East Timor. In January 1999 Habibie announced 

the East Timorese could have their independence, and in March Annan 

announced the UN would supervise the ballot. The East Timorese could either 

accept or reject the Indonesian proposal.81

Habibie appeared more interested in the façade of addressing the East 

Timor issue than constructing an executable plan. As the UN focus intensified, the Indonesian government appeared unprepared for the international 

scrutiny surrounding the autonomy proposal. Habibie’s assurance that troop 

numbers in East Timor would be reduced was undermined by leaked military 

documents stating that troop numbers had not been cut. In fact, they had 

been marshaled to attack pro-independence forces.82 The UN then received 

reports of unopposed militia groups rounding up East Timorese into refugee 

camps. In what many saw as an extraordinary move, the UN charged the Indonesians with providing security for the autonomy vote. The UN felt it had 

little choice—without an invitation from Habibie it could not deploy security 

forces on Indonesian sovereign territory.83 The Indonesian agreement did, 

however, provide a mandate for the UN to play a role in the post-ballot transition to independence.84

To many, the plan for a UN-supervised vote appeared better than no vote 

at all. Accordingly, on 11 June 1999 the UN approved establishment of the 

United Nations Mission in East Timor (UNAMET). The mission was not 

armed and had no security role.85 On 30 August 1999 almost the entire population of East Timor came out to vote. On 4 September 1999 Annan announced that 78.5 per cent of East Timorese wanted independence.86 When 

the results were made public, militia violence erupted.87

Window of Opportunity

If any of us had an inkling that it was going to be this chaotic, I don’t 

think anyone would have gone forward. We are not fools.

—UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan

10 September 1999

There was eight days of violence following the independence vote before 

international condemnation overwhelmed Habibie. The glaringly positive aspect of the violence was the international political momentum ensuing from 

it—impetus that had been absent for 24 years. The UN, US, Australia, and 

others combined to bring overwhelming diplomatic pressure on Habibie. 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

65

Predictably, US leverage over Indonesia was the decisive factor within this 

process. 

Based on their pre-ballot behavior, the TNI, police, and militia should have 

been expected to destabilize the post-ballot environment. However, there 

were few who could have predicted the scale of the ensuing disaster. The TNI 

organized, trained, and equipped militias commenced a wave of violence that 

reduced much of the country to burning ashes.88 Hundreds of East Timorese 

were killed, thousands fled into the hills, tens of thousands were forcibly 

moved across the border to Indonesia’s West Timor, while hundreds of thousands 

abandoned their homes.89 UNAMET was forced, on security grounds, to 

evacuate 12 of its 13 regional centers. All surviving UN staff took shelter in 

Dili’s UN compound, while attempting to protect as many East Timorese as 

could fit inside the walls. Annan was appalled by the violence, calling on the 

TNI to restore order. Habibie assured him it would, but it was clear he had lost 

control.90 Unlike the decades of violence preceding it, numerous foreign journalists, international NGOs, church organizations, and the UN staff supervising 

the ballot witnessed the horror of the 1999 violence. The substantial media 

coverage triggered outrage around the globe.91

Despite swelling global support for action, the harsh reality remained that 

Indonesia was sovereign territory and the UN could not deploy armed peacekeepers until Indonesia agreed to the mission. The international audience 

could protest all it liked, but until Habibie accepted an offer for help, the window 

of opportunity for East Timor was closed. 

UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan emerged as an important player in the 

peacekeeping standoff between Habibie and the international community. As 

the violence continued unchecked, Habibie refused to let UN troops into the 

country—insisting that Indonesia was handling the situation. Annan vehemently disagreed, phoning numerous world leaders to garner support. As the 

violence in East Timor increased, Annan escalated the rhetoric against Habibie, 

at one stage warning that he, “cannot escape responsibility for what could 

amount ... to crimes against humanity.”92

From 1975-1999 Indonesia had weathered numerous UN resolutions condemning their behavior. Experience had shown that stalling, deception, and 

denial were the most effective tools for Indonesia. This time, however, the UN 

Secretary-General was determined to back up rhetoric with force. Two days 

after the ballot, the UN inquired whether Australia could contribute to a UN 

peacekeeping force. Howard replied that Australia not only wanted to contribute, Australians wanted to lead the mission.93 He offered to rush troops to 

the island under the UN banner, but China and the United States would not 

support a UN intervention.94 Behind the scenes, Howard had taken a personal 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

66

role in rallying support from the international community. Howard’s Chief of 

Army, General Frank Hickling, was dispatched to garner regional military 

support while the Australian Foreign Minister, Alexander Downer, used the 

fortuitously timed Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) forum in 

New Zealand to convince regional leaders of the need to act.95 On 10 September 

1999, the Secretary-General urged the Indonesian government to accept this 

offer of assistance from Australia and several other governments, including 

New Zealand, the Philippines and Malaysia.96 Habibie was unmoved, refusing 

to yield to international pressure.97 There was only one reason for this refusal. 

Intervention was still not in America’s national interest. 

The US did not support UN intervention in East Timor until 12 September 

1999.98 East Timor had not been in the US national interest for the past 24 

years, and President Clinton remained reluctant to change this posture.99 The 

Australians interpreted this reluctance as a shortcoming. Deputy Prime Minister 

Tim Fischer commented that the US “could not have been weaker in its initial 

response to Australia’s request for assistance with East Timor during September 

1999.”100 Australia’s Minister for Defence, John Moore, contacted his counterpart, US Secretary of Defense William Cohen, requesting the US change its 

position and support East Timor. Moore argued the US was obligated to assist 

under the terms of the ANZUS treaty. Cohen was unmoved, reiterating there 

would be “no [US] troops” in East Timor.101 Moore advised Howard of the 

development, who chose to circumvent the US Secretary of Defense and 

speak to Clinton directly at the 9-12 September 1999 APEC summit. During 

the Howard-Clinton discussions, the President acknowledged the US would 

have to do something for Australia.

102

The US President subsequently phoned Habibie. Clinton indicated he 

would consider economic sanctions if the UN peacekeepers were not permitted 

to stop the violence. Later, at an APEC press conference, Clinton stated, ‘‘My 

own willingness to support future [Indonesian] assistance will depend very 

strongly on the way Indonesia handles this situation.”103 The international 

community had been ready for weeks. A single US phone call ended the waiting.

After 24 years of struggle, the East Timorese received the news that Habibie 

had formally requested a peacekeeping force be sent to East Timor.104 On 15 

September 1999, the UN Security Council passed Resolution 1264 providing 

Chapter VII mandate for the International Force for East Timor (INTERFET).105

Ironically, Habibie’s reasoning for allowing the East Timor ballot was to 

improve the international perception of Indonesia. In the wake of the Asian 

financial crisis, and the fall of Suharto, Habibie was desperate to advertise 

Indonesia as a developing democracy with a legitimate government—a country 

worthy of investment. His handling of the East Timor crisis could not have 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

67

been more damaging. Nine months after the ballot was proposed, the situation in East Timor revealed how little Indonesian democracy had progressed. 

The farcical nature of its conduct rallied the world in defense of the East 

Timorese. In an embarrassing admission to his own country, on 12 September 

1999, Habibie announced that INTERFET would arrive to restore order in 

East Timor. Participants in the INTERFET military coalition would be 

Australia, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Egypt, Fiji, France, Germany, Ireland, 

Italy, Jordan, Kenya, Malaysia, Mozambique, New Zealand, Norway, Philippines, 

Republic of Korea, Singapore, Sweden, Thailand, United Kingdom, and, perhaps most importantly, the United States.106

The TNI agreed to hand East Timor’s security to INTERFET with little resistance. There were a handful of skirmishes between peacekeepers and the 

militia before the militia faded away. By 25 October 1999 INTERFET was no 

longer required, and the UN established a mandate for the United Nations 

Administration in East Timor (UNTAET).107 For the first time in its history, 

the UN was administering an entire country.108 By May 2002, the East Timorese 

had elected a new government and declared their country to be the fully independent Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste.

Analysis 

Australian support for military intervention in East Timor took 24 years to 

develop. Unfettered by the great power dynamics of the Cold War, the 1990s 

demonstrated that smaller powers, including the UN, still had difficulty influencing international politics without the assistance of a hegemon—particularly 

when the persecuted are trapped within the borders of a sovereign state. 

Australia’s role in the 24-year East Timor crisis has been much maligned 

for its lack of action and inconsistency. However, as noted in the conclusions 

of Chapters 3 and 4, increasing the diplomatic pressure against Indonesia 

would have altered nothing for the East Timorese, instead serving only to 

weaken Australia. To be sure, Australian policy has been bombarded by criticism regarding most aspects of its involvement with East Timor. On one 

extreme is criticism for a failure to act—on the other extreme is criticism for 

acting. The former is expected—the latter predominately focused on the 1999 

involvement. 

On one side is the argument that Australia’s failure to push for UN security 

surrounding the ballot was tantamount to international neglect. Professor 

William Maley, Director of the Asia-Pacific College of Diplomacy, states Australia’s East Timor policies were a “massive failure of analysis and constitute 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

68

Australia’s equivalent of the bungling which saw Pearl Harbor open to attack 

on 7 December 1941.”109 Richard Leaver, a contributor to The Pacific Review 

and lecturer at Flinders University states that “Howard’s about-face was therefore public testament to a massive failure of past Australian policy.”110 This 

theme of failure abounds in the scrutiny of Australia’s approach to East Timor. 

This style of analysis overestimates Australia’s capacity to influence international decision making. East Timor was not Australia’s Pearl Harbor, nor 

was it a failure of policy. Australia understood what was happening in East 

Timor—it was powerless to stop it. Many countries lack the power to influence international relations in the manner they wish. This state of affairs does 

not represent a failure of policy. Howard’s letter to Habibie is one example in 

which Australian pressure on Indonesia only served to worsen the relationship. The Indonesians were resisting anyone meddling in their internal problems. Influencing this situation was beyond Australia’s capacity.

If Australia, or any state, wanted to alter the East Timorese plight in the 

1990s, it needed US support. Unfortunately for the Timorese, the US viewed 

them as a tiny speck in a big archipelago, a metaphorical mess in a distant 

university student’s apartment. East Timor had no strategic or economic 

value, and the US had bigger global problems to address. The US was aware of 

human rights abuses, but thought them to be not worthy of removing “our 

kind of guy.”111 If it were to be drawn into action, the US needed a better reason 

than human rights abuses in a forgotten corner of Southeast Asia. 

The Asian financial crisis helped to provide this reason, triggering East 

Timor’s path to independence. Only when the Indonesian economy collapsed 

and Suharto stepped down did the importance of the US-Indonesia economic 

and strategic relationship begin to deteriorate. However, following the 1997 

financial crisis, and despite the September 1999 East Timor violence, the US 

moved its position on Indonesia only slightly—from tepid supporter to disinterested bystander. The latter half of the twentieth century witnessed human 

rights abuses throughout Southeast Asia on a scale that made the several hundredthousand casualties in East Timor seem relatively low-scale in comparison. 

The US was unaffected by the East Timor outcome and unwilling to invest 

resources to influence it. For the East Timorese, the Asian financial crisis unlocked the window of opportunity, but significantly more effort was required 

to open it. 

The combined weight of regional Southeast Asian countries and the UN 

was insufficient to influence Indonesian decision-making. In accord with international relations theory assessed in Chapter 2, if the hegemon disengages, 

the struggle becomes regional. When the US disengaged following the 1997 

financial crisis, the struggle for East Timor became a Southeast Asian issue. 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

69

The UN, under Kofi Annan, led this effort on behalf of the region. Even with 

the backing of the UN and numerous regional countries, Annan failed to influence the situation satisfactorily. Withstanding a diplomatic storm was 

nothing new for the Indonesians. Historically, the intensity of international 

attention would quickly fade. Sovereignty was Habibie’s trump card—the UN 

could do nothing without his invitation. Provided the US remained indifferent 

Habibie could absorb international pressure indefinitely. 

The bottom line is that given the geopolitical context of the times, East 

Timor could not have achieved independence without US support. On 

numerous occasions the US communicated that East Timor was not in the 

US national interest. According to PDD25, the Clinton Administration would 

only support UN peacekeeping missions “when UN involvement represents 

the best means to advance US interests.”112 This was reinforced well into the 

1999 crisis. Two weeks after the autonomy vote, in the midst of widespread 

violence being inflicted on the East Timorese, the US remained unwilling to 

act. It needed a reason to believe East Timor was in the US national interest, 

and the UN was not providing it. 

Alliances are always capricious; occasionally they are effective. The USAustralia alliance is among the strongest of bilateral global alliances. Rarely, if 

ever, does either partner request assistance before it is offered. In Canberra in 

2011, President Barack Obama summarized the relationship between Australians and Americans: 

The bonds between us run deep. In each other’s story we see so much of 

ourselves. Ancestors who crossed vast oceans—some by choice, some in 

chains . . . we are citizens who live by a common creed—no matter who you 

are, no matter what you look like, everyone deserves a fair chance; everyone 

deserves a fair go . . . from the trenches of the First World War to the mountains of Afghanistan . . . Aussies and Americans have stood together, we have 

fought together, we have given lives together in every single major conflict of 

the past hundred years. Every single one.113

When Australia repeatedly asked the US for assistance in 1999, the rare 

and passionate nature of the appeal altered US national inclinations. Always 

strong allies, the US-Australia relationship shone amidst the Asian financial 

carnage. Australia’s economy emerged largely unaffected. If a nation’s power is 

measured in part by the potential of its economy, then the financial crisis 

served to increase Australia’s relative power in Southeast Asia. Howard sought 

to capitalize on this momentum to assist solving the East Timor crisis. 

The key moment for East Timor was Howard’s meeting with Clinton at the 

APEC meeting. Prior to this encounter, the US was reluctant to engage for 

two reasons: it was unwilling to commit troops to any mission that was not in 
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

70

the US national interest, and it believed US pressure on Indonesia was unnecessary. Howard possessed the diplomatic capital to trump these beliefs. As 

described in Chapter 2, to alter US policy Howard had to address three criteria 

before Clinton could be influenced. Howard needed: 1) capacity to realign 

established great power policy with small power self-interest, 2) a viable solution or plans to effectively pursue this interest, and 3) the capacity to execute 

combat missions in support of those solutions.

Howard realigned established great-power policy with small-power selfinterest. Only when the Australian government expressed official concern 

about conditions in East Timor did Washington find time to consider the 

problem.114 Clinton’s visit to APEC enabled Howard to eyeball the President 

and request his help. Of particular note, during the Howard-Clinton discussions, the President acknowledged the US would have to do something, not

for East Timor, but for Australia.115 To Clinton, the consequences of not acting became greater than acting. The change in US national interest was barely 

perceptible—but it was enough.

Second, Howard presented a viable solution to pursue East Timor’s independence. Nine months earlier, Australia had been working on options for 

East Timor’s autonomy.116 On 6 September, when the UN inquired whether 

Australia could contribute to an international peace keeping force, Howard 

replied that Australia could lead the mission.117 Further, Australia planned to 

circumvent UN funding problems that were concerning potential regional 

contributors. Australia agreed to reimburse regional participants’ costs before 

UN funds were approved. The use of Australian funds played an important 

role in the mindset of contributing nations by increasing their willingness to 

participate, and reduced the need for a US troop commitment.118

Finally, Australia had the capacity to execute combat missions in support 

of the proposed solution. The US would not be left to clean up the mess. By 

mid-September 1999, a poll revealed that approximately 90 percent of Australians favored an intervention in East Timor.119 This support, combined 

with a modern, well-equipped military; strong backing in the media; and bipartisan parliamentary support, combined to instill US confidence that Australia would get the job done.120 Howard adequately fulfilled all three criteria, 

leaving the US President with little to do—other than make a phone call.

Notes

1. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 245.

2. Amy Goodman, “Massacre: The Story of East Timor,” Democracy Now! (website), 28 

January 2008, http://www.democracynow.org/2008/1/28/massacre_the_story_of_east_timor.

3. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 246–48.
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

71

4. Kilcullen, Accidental Guerrilla, 207, 208.

5. John Braithwaite, Hilary Charlesworth, and Adérito Soares, Networked Governance of 

Freedom and Tyranny: Peace in Timor-Leste (Acton, Australian Capital Territory, Australia: 

Australian National University Press, 2012), 79–80, http://press.anu.edu.au?p=174961.

6. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 164. 

7. Ibid., 22. 

8. Ibid., 20.

9. Ibid., 22.

10. Dunn, East Timor, 297.

11. Nobel Foundation, “The Nobel Peace Prize 1996: Carlos Filipe Ximenes Belo, José RamosHorta,” Nobelprize.org (website), 2016, http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates 

/1996/.

12. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 22. 

13. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 178. 

14. Braithwaite, Charlesworth, and Soares, Networked Governance of Freedom and Tyranny, 84.

15. Ian MacKinnon, “Ali Alatas,” Guardian (UK), 16 December 2008, http://www.the

guardian.com/world/2008/dec/17/ali-alatas-obituary-indonesia-cambodia.

16. Ibid.

17. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 249. 

18. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 155.

19. Sweeney, “A Matter of Small Consequence,” 99–100.

20. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 140. 

21. Richard Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” Pacific Review 14, 

no. 1 (2001): 5.

22. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 140. 

23. Desmond Ball, “Silent Witness: Australian Intelligence and East Timor,” in Masters of 

Terror: Indonesia’s Military and Violence in East Timor, edited by Richard Tanter, Desmond 

Ball, and Gerry van Klinken (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006), 195.

24. Ball, “Masters of Terror,” 186.

25. Brunner, Kira, The New Killing Fields: Massacre and the Politics of Intervention (New 

York: Basic Books, 2002), 188.

26. Dunn, East Timor, 331. 

27. Braithwaite, Charlesworth, and Soares, Networked Governance of Freedom and Tyranny, 83.

28. Dunn, East Timor, 330. 

29. Ibid., 331. 

30. Brunner, New Killing Fields, 187.

31. Ball, “Masters of Terror,” 156.

32. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 156. 

33. Abraham H. Maslow, The Psychology of Science: A Reconnaissance (Chapel Hill, NC: 

Maurice Bassett, 2004).

34. Presidential Decision Directive/NSC-25 (Washington, DC: The White House, May 3, 1994), 

http://www.clintonlibrary.gov/_previous/Documents/2010%20FOIA/Presidential%20Directives

/PDD-25.pdf.

35. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 243. 

36. David E. Sanger, “Real Politics: Why Suharto Is In and Castro Is Out,” New York Times, 

31 October 1995, http://www.nytimes.com/1995/10/31/world/real-politics-why-suharto-is

-in-and-castro-is-out.html.
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

72

37. Ibid.

38. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 4.

39. Dunn, East Timor, 314. 

40. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 135.

41. Pinto and Jardine, Inside the East Timor Resistance, 247. 

42. Presidential Decision Directive/NSC-25.

43. Dunn, East Timor, 240. 

44. Graeme Dobell, “The ‘Arc of Instability’: The History of an Idea,” in History as Policy: 

Framing the Debate on the Future of Australia’s Defence Policy, Canberra Papers on Strategy and 

Defence, no. 167, edited by Ronald Huisken and Meredith Thatcher (Canberra, ACT, Australia: 

Australian National University Press, 2007), 101.

45. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 141.

46. Stanley Meisler, Kofi Annan: A Man of Peace in a World of War (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 

2008), 183.

47. Presidential Decision Directive/NSC-25.

48. David Connery, Crisis Policymaking: Australia and the East Timor Crisis of 1999, Canberra 

Papers on Strategy and Defence, no. 177 (Canberra, ACT, Australia: Australian National University Press, 2010), 79.

49. Clinton Fernandes, “Companion to East Timor: The Keating Government,” School 

of Humanities and Social Sciences (website), University of New South Wales, 2012, https://

web.archive.org/web/20151005110129/http://hass.unsw.adfa.edu.au/timor_companion

/fracturing_the_bipartisan_consensus/keating.php.

50. Gareth J. Evans and Bruce Grant, Australia’s Foreign Relations: In the World of the 1990s

(Carlton, Victoria, Australia: Melbourne University Press, 1995), 42.

51. Fernandes, “Companion to East Timor.” 

52. Fernandes, “Companion to East Timor.”

53. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 5.

54. Evans and Grant, Australia’s Foreign Relations, 189.

55. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 3.

56. Evans and Grant, Australia’s Foreign Relations, 188.

57. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 3.

58. Ibid., 4.

59. Fernandes, “Companion to East Timor.”

60. Gareth Evans, “Indonesia’s Military Culture Has to Be Reformed,” New York Times, 24 

July 2001, http://www.nytimes.com/2001/07/24/opinion/24iht-edevans_ed2_.html.

61. Hugh White, “Four Decades of the Defence of Australia: Reflections on Australian Defence 

Policy over the Past 40 Years,” in History as Policy: Framing the Debate on the Future of Australia’s 

Defence Policy, edited by Ronald Huisken and Meredith Thatcher, Canberra Papers on Strategy and 

Defence, no. 167 (Canberra, ACT, Australia: Australian National University Press, 2007), 176–77.

62. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 179.

63. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 6.

64. Alexander Downer, “Indonesia’s Challenges: How Australia Can Help” (speech, Australian 

Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 23 November 1998), http://foreignminister.gov.au/speeches/1998/981123

_indonesia.html.

65. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 17.

66. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 50.

67. Ball, “Masters of Terror,” 183.
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

73

68. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 180.

69. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 20.

70. Ibid., 21.

71. Monk, “Secret Intelligence and Escape Clauses,” 206.

72. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 140.

73. Richard Tanter, Gerry van Klinken, and Desmond Ball, Masters of Terror: Indonesia’s 

Military and Violence in East Timor (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2006), 184–85.

74. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 27.

75. Dobell, “The ‘Arc of Instability.’”

76. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 89.

77. Dunn, East Timor, 322. 

78. Braithwaite, Charlesworth, and Soares, Networked Governance of Freedom and Tyranny, 

82–83. 

79. Peace and Security Section, Department of Public Information, United Nations, “The 

United Nations and East Timor—A Chronology,” website, 2000, http://www.un.org/en/peacekeeping 

/missions/past/etimor/Untaetchrono.html.

80. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 181.

81. Lloyd, Out of the Ashes Destruction, 80, 87.

82. Ibid., 81–83.

83. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 182.

84. Lloyd, Out of the Ashes Destruction, 90.

85. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 30.

86. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 141.

87. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 31.

88. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 141.

89. Ibid., 157.

90. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 182–183.

91. Robinson, “If You Leave Us Here, We Will Die,” 19–20.

92. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 182–183.

93. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 32.

94. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 183.

95. James Cotton, East Timor, Australia and Regional Order: Intervention and Its Aftermath 

in Southeast Asia (New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2004), 124.

96. S. D. Stein, “United Nations News, September 10 1999,” 12 September 1999, https://

web.archive.org/web/20061002153542/http://www.ess.uwe.ac.uk/Timor/News14.htm.

97. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 183.

98. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 33.

99. Tanter, Selden, and Shalom, Bitter Flowers, Sweet Flowers, 175.

100. Dobell, “The ‘Arc of Instability,’” 101.

101. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 92.

102. Ibid., 93.

103. Philip Shenon, “President Asserts Jakarta Must Act or Admit Troops,” New York Times, 

10 September 1999, http://www.nytimes.com/1999/09/10/world/president-asserts-jakarta-must

-act-or-admit-troops.html.

104. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 182–85.

105. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 35.
THE POST–COLD WAR YEARS, 1989–99

74

106. Steve Ayling and Sarah Guise, “UNTAC and INTERFET—A Comparative Analysis,” 

Australian Defence Force Journal, no.150 (2001), 51, http://www.adfjournal.adc.edu.au/UserFiles

/issues/150%202001%20Sep_Oct.pdf. 

107. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 35.

108. Brunner, New Killing Fields, 214.

109. William Maley, “Australia and the East Timor Crisis: Some Critical Comments,” Australian 

Journal of International Affairs 54, no. 2 (2000), 158.

110. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 2.

111. Sanger, “Real Politics.”

112. Presidential Decision Directive/NSC-25.

113. “Remarks by President Obama to the Australian Parliament” (speech, Office of the 

Press Secretary, White House, 17 November 2011), http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press

-office/2011/11/17/remarks-president-obama-australian-parliament.

114. Sweeney, “A Matter of Small Consequence,” 101.

115. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 93.

116. Ibid., 23.

117. Ibid., 32.

118. Ayling and Guise, “UNTAC and INTERFET,” 51.

119. Ian McAllister, Attitude Matters: Public Opinion in Australia towards Defence and Security

(Canberra, ACT, Australia: Australian Strategic Policy Institute, August 2004), 24.

120. Connery, Crisis Policymaking, 52.
75

Chapter 6

Conclusions

Analyzing two-and-a-half decades of international decision making reveals 

the complex machinations behind policy creation at the international level. 

The Indonesians were brutal opportunists, but their opportunism in East 

Timor was hardly unique. It represented a long-standing historical norm 

rather than a rare human tragedy. Some 2,500 years ago, a member of the 

Athenian delegation famously wrote, “The strong do what they can, and the 

weak suffer what they must.”1

 East Timorese independence might prove an 

exception to the rule; their suffering at the hands of a strong neighbor appears 

to have ended in 1999. And yet, even this small exception is debatable. From 

another perspective, the Indonesians were the weak party, eventually suffering 

what they must at the inclinations of the United States.

In all cases, what matters in international relations is the power of the 

regional hegemon. The East Timor crisis revealed the unremarkable lack of 

power in subhegemonic states and collective intuitions. The United Nations 

did not fail to act; rather, much like the Portuguese with whom it shared concern for the East Timorese, it was simply powerless to stop the Indonesian 

sovereign state. The continuing reality is that the state is the highest power in 

the international system. Likewise Australia, East Timor’s closest nonIndonesian neighbor, lacked the capacity to intervene until Indonesia lost its 

strategic relevance. Depending on one’s point of view, Australia’s performance 

was either slow-motion hypocrisy or a steady pursuit of the national interest. 

I favor the latter. Consistent with the performance of most liberal democracies, 

Australia placated the domestic audience by espousing liberal collectivism 

while constructing a foreign policy based on pragmatic realism.

The 1975 invasion of East Timor revealed the enormous global influence of 

a bipolar hegemonic struggle between the Soviets and the Americans. Gross 

abuses of human rights in Southeast Asia were a low priority within the context of the Cold War. Millions were simultaneously perishing in the killing 

fields of Cambodia alone, and far more popular political causes were proliferating throughout the world. The plight of East Timor was lost in a sea of tragedies. 

The United Nations passed strongly worded resolutions, but without the support of the Soviets or the United States, the United Nations was predictably 

ineffective. It mattered little that the United States abstained instead of vetoing 

the UN resolutions. In the UN environment, instances of the Security 

Council veto garner attention; however, when a great power abstains there is 
CONCLUSIONS

76

often a veto effect. The events of 1975 highlighted the diplomatic power of the 

abstention. With it, the United States sent a message to the Southeast Asian 

region it dominated. First, the United States did not object to Indonesia’s 

treatment of East Timor. Second, the United States implicitly disagreed with 

any state voting against Suharto. Third, the United States would not be providing troops to a UN peacekeeping mission in East Timor. In such a case, the 

abstention achieved the effect of a veto without attracting the attention of one. 

Hedley Bull, in The Anarchical Society, was correct: institutions follow a pattern of behavior sustaining the primary goals of the biggest players.2

The Cold War period of this analysis (1976–89) revealed the enduring impact of a bipolar struggle. Despite reports emerging in 1979 that the East 

Timor death toll was in the hundreds of thousands, no government was willing to provide security forces to stop the carnage.3

 Throughout the Cold War, 

Australia lacked the capacity to influence the East Timor outcome. More specifically, it lacked the ability to realign great-power policy with small-power 

national interest. The period simply revealed that critics of Australian policy 

routinely overstated Australia’s capacity to influence international decision 

making. The various Australian governments knew otherwise. They possessed intelligent and pragmatic international policy makers who were wise 

to choose security and cooperation over futile condemnation of their Indonesian neighbor.

The post–Cold War period revealed the power and prestige of the unipolar 

hegemon. Indonesia’s decline in US strategic importance was compensated 

for by its increasing economic potential. By the mid-1990s, the Indonesian 

economy was growing at seven percent per annum, and the United States 

capitalized on the opportunity. Australia took advantage of the situation, too. 

The strategic capstone was Prime Minister Keating acquiring Indonesia’s firstever bilateral security agreement: the 1995 Agreement to Maintain Security 

(AMS).4

 The economic capstone was the lucrative Timor Gap Oil and Gas 

Treaty, covering what became, for a short period in the 1970s, part of the East 

Timor exclusive economic zone. Compared to these achievements, East Timorese human rights concerns were a trivial issue.

The post–Cold War period revealed little would change for global human 

rights. Overall, the international community had made little progress in stopping genocide. The UN leaders pledged to make the post–Cold War decade 

one of change in the observance of international human rights.5

 It was a noble 

cause, to be sure, but East Timor endured throughout the decade following 

the collapse of the Soviet Union with little change in its plight. Intervention in 

East Timor, when it finally came, was trumpeted as a shining example of international protection of human rights—a belated but welcome achievement. 
CONCLUSIONS

77

But it is difficult to counter the arguments that support for the UN mission 

was consistent with Waltzian realism: “No policy is advanced with the plea 

that, although this will hurt my country, it will help others.”6

 Australia, like all 

states, is primarily concerned with security and economic prosperity; human 

rights are a distant third. Abundant evidence supports this conclusion: approximately one million Ibos were killed in Nigeria in the 1960s; 800,000 

communists were killed at the hands of Suharto in Indonesia and two million 

Cambodians under the ruthless Pol Pot in the 1970s; 800,000 Rwandans were 

slaughtered in the 1990s; and 300,000 have died so far in Sudan. All these 

events are listed among the world’s “worst genocides.” Even so, governments 

do not intervene until their national interest is threatened.7

 For 25 years, no 

one came to the rescue of the East Timorese.

During the 1975 invasion and subsequent Cold War period, no state or 

external organization was prepared to take on the TNI for the sake of lives in 

East Timor.8 The end of the Cold War may have changed the regional 

dynamics, yet East Timor remained a small nation at the whim of powerful 

international relations. In a world in which acquiring power is the primary 

driver of state behavior, it is unsurprising that the end of the Cold War 

changed little in the UN quest to observe human rights. Eight years after the 

Soviet collapse, it was the 1997 Asian financial crisis that triggered an even 

greater shift in Southeast Asia’s balance of power, providing a US-backed Australia with a golden opportunity to influence the direction of the region. 

While a pleasing outcome for those advocating the enforcement of human 

rights, there should be no confusion regarding Australia’s motives for intervening in East Timor. Australia, like all states, pursues its own self-interest—

relentlessly seeking opportunities to increase power relative to others.

In 1999, the United Nations provided a conduit for Australia to impose its 

will on the Indonesian government, improve Australia’s reputation for respecting international law, demonstrate an ability to lead UN operations, and 

gain a new alliance in the middle of the Indonesian archipelago. Australian 

support for military intervention in East Timor took 25 years to develop because it reflected Ambassador Woolcott’s pragmatic realism. Prior to 1999, 

Australia lacked the capacity to influence the East Timor crisis, instead pursuing improved strategic and economic relationships with Indonesia. The 1997 

financial crisis provided an opportunity for Australia to improve its relative 

strategic position. Prime Minister Howard campaigned heavily to gain the 

support of the United States, for he, like all state leaders, understood that 

when a window of national opportunity opens, it befits a statesman to pass 

through it. When Richard Leaver argued, “Howard’s about-face was . . . public 

testament to a massive failure of past Australian policy,”9

 his assertion could 
CONCLUSIONS

78

not have been further from the truth. Australia has always been consistent, 

adjusting its foreign policy to take advantage of shifting international relations in pursuit of one thing—the Australian national interest.

Notes

1. Thucydides, Robert B. Strassler, and Richard Crawley, The Landmark Thucydides: A 

Comprehensive Guide to the Peloponnesian War (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998), 352.

2. Bull, Anarchical Society, 8.

3. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 185.

4. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 3.

5. Dunn, East Timor, 322.

6. Kenneth N. Waltz, Man, the State, and War: A Theoretical Analysis (New York: Columbia 

University Press, 2001), 38.

7. Robert Anthony Pape, “When Duty Calls: A Pragmatic Standard of Humanitarian Intervention,” International Security 37, no. 1 (Summer 2012), 42.

8. Meisler, Kofi Annan, 185.

9. Leaver, “Introduction: Australia, East Timor and Indonesia,” 2.
79

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