Military logic has its appeal. It is simple, brutally simple. You arm a man, put him in battle and let him kill his enemy - or be killed. The logic is neat and tidy, even if the end result is not.
The trouble for the troops now occupying Dili and fanning out across East Timor is that the pure logic of the battlefield does not apply to them, at least not at the moment. They are in a no win situation, as will become increasingly clear if pro-Indonesian forces test their resolve to the limit and the apparent rules of engagement for the UN soldiers stay as they are.
This week three truckloads of militiamen, the murderous surrogates of the Indonesian army, trundled through Dili firing in the air, daring anyone to stop them. No one did. Next time, maybe, they will kill someone - perhaps an East Timorese rather than a soldier with Interfet, the UN-mandated interim force in East Timor.
If that doesn't produce the desired result (which for the militias and elements of the Indonesian military is retaliation), maybe they'll kill one of the Australian soldiers who constitute the bulk of Interfet. That should get a reaction.
The problem for Interfet is that it is having to live with the consequences of a flawed agreement. The May 5th deal between Portugal, the former colonial power in East Timor, and Indonesia, the occupying power, left security in East Timor in the hands of the Indonesian military. Furthermore, the agreement envisaged a lengthy period - August 30th to November - between the vote in East Timor between independence or autonomy, and the ratification of the result by the parliament in Jakarta.
Once the agreement was endorsed by the UN on May 7th, it was bought into by interested parties - essentially the United States and regional powers - who have been stuck with it ever since.
The end result is a dynamic which today sees Australian soldiers talking tough but acting cautiously - cautiously enough to invite testing by the militiamen and the Indonesian military which, despite anything the foreign minister, Ali Alatas, tells the UN about wanting to get out of East Timor, is extremely reluctant to give up the half-island. Yesterday's robust show of strength by Interfet was just that - show.
Blaming the UN for the current crisis is shallow because the UN is only as good as its member states allow it to be.
THE conflict over East Timor has its roots in a mixture of postcolonial trauma and Cold War global politics. The trouble began 25 years ago on the far side of the world.
In April 1974, a group of middle rank Portuguese army officers led by a senior officer, Gen Antonio de Spinola, a veteran of efforts to hold onto overseas possessions, notably Angola, led a bloodless coup in Lisbon aimed at bringing democracy to Portugal.
One of the first acts of the new regime was to announce its intention to withdraw from its colonial possessions, which included East Timor, the eastern half of the island of Timor. Independence for East Timor seemed the obvious consequence. Indonesia, though ruling West Timor, had lodged no prior claim to East Timor, appearing to accept Portugal's contention that it was a province of Portugal, not a colony.
But when, after a brief civil war - won by the Frente Revolucionaria de Timor Leste Independente (Fretilin) - East Timor declared itself independent, Jakarta invaded and adopted colonial Portugal's approach: East Timor became the 27th province of Indonesia.
In the ensuing years of relentlessly brutal occupation, some 200,000 people in East Timor are said to have died out of a total population of 650,000 - or just under 30 per cent.
Despite repeated condemnation by the UN General Assembly - supported in 1975 and 1976 by Security Council resolutions - Jakarta got away with it. The reason is that no one who mattered was prepared to go against the prevailing equation of the Cold War: Indonesia was, as the West saw it, a bulwark against the spread of communism, no matter what abuses of human rights the military-dominated regime in Jakarta inflicted on the hapless people of East Timor.
The reality is acknowledged in confidential internal UN background documents still used by officials today. ". . . with Vietnam still fresh in their minds, Western countries, especially the US, backed the Indonesian action," says one.
The Cold War logic meant that both the US and Australia more than acquiesced in Indonesia's 1975 invasion - they effectively gave it the go-ahead. Shortly before it was launched, President Gerald Ford and his Secretary of State, Henry Kissinger, were in Jakarta and gave the seizure their tacit approval. The same message came from Australia: the then Labor prime minister Gough Whitlam, on a visit to Jakarta five months after the coup in Lisbon, told President Suharto that the best outcome for East Timor was for it to become part of Indonesia.
Jakarta needed no further encouragement.
In the succeeding years, Indonesia remained an important Cold War ally of the US in south-east Asia and was seen as essential to the stability of the region after the loss of Vietnam. The US sold arms to Jakarta by the shipload - and the Indonesian military was happy to see itself grow into the single most powerful, though untested, regional force outside China.
For West-oriented Australia, good relations with Jakarta were a cornerstone of foreign policy for decades. At the heart of the policy was a geo-political fear of an overarching giant, whose population outnumbered Australians by a factor of 10 to 1. In 1978 the Liberal (i.e. conservative) government of Malcolm Fraser became the only western nation to recognise Indonesian sovereignty over East Timor.
Australia's attitude to its northern neighbour was perhaps best summed up in the mid 1990s by the Labor prime minister Paul Keating. In characteristically blunt terms, he noted that no country was more important to Australia than Indonesia.
"We are not going to hock the entire Indonesian relationship on Timor," he said.
It was a consensus view with the political establishment in Canberra. Liberal and Labor governments alike fell over themselves to co-operate with the Indonesian military. Apart from arms sales, there were joint training programmes and joint exercises between their special forces. As recently as two years ago, an Australian defence strategic policy statement described Indonesia as "our most important strategic relationship" in southeast Asia.
The relationship had an echo in the business and cultural spheres.
Australia became the largest provider of tertiary places for Indonesian students. The two countries negotiated and signed the Timor Gap Treaty, agreeing to carve up oil exploration rights in the 61,000 sq km Timor Strait separating northwestern Australia and the island of Timor.
And during the recent Asian financial crisis, Australia put up Aus$1 billion to help bail out Jakarta. They could not save their old ally President Suharto, however. As Indonesia descended into chaos prompted by riots which began in protest at the worsening economy but quickly developed into demands for democracy, Suharto stepped down.
But the relationship between Canberra and Jakarta, which does not project Australia in the best light, also gave Australia a certain leverage. Pressure to move on East Timor was put on Suharto's successor, B.J. Habibie. In January, he made the surprise announcement that the people of East Timor would be allowed to vote on their future. Australia had publicly changed its policy: it too was now in favour of self-determination.
THE negotiations to give effect to Habibie's promise involved the UN, Portugal and Jakarta. They ended with a stark reality: there would be no referendum if they tried to force Indonesia to accept foreign troops.
Although the US Under-Secretary of State for Asia Pacific, Stanley Roth, privately pressed Australia to push Indonesia to accept a peace-keeping force for the referendum, the Australians knew such a development was not on.
UN officials and the Australian Prime Minister, John Howard, made this point very strongly. Security on East Timor would have to remain the preserve of Indonesia if anything was to be agreed. Push for external military control, even for an interim period, and there would be no deal, they advised.
There was no choice, they argued. There was a window of opportunity to end the East Timor agony of 24 years and a major United Nations problem. There was a problem also: the attention span and commitment of the big powers had its limits in the face of an important, if deeply corrupt, Asian giant and market.
In the final analysis, the deal was seen as the pragmatic best that could be achieved in the circumstances. There was desperation for closure.
According to Portugal's ambassador to Ireland, Joao da Vallera, negotiation had been going nowhere since the early 1980s, when the UN became involved in trying to reach a settlement. "It was becoming a joke and we were conscious of that," he said. Portugal knew that "it was an extremely risky operation from the beginning". When governments say they are changing their attitude towards democracy and civilised behaviour "we have to believe them".
Those who spoke for the people of East Timor were also divided. While Bishop Carlos Belo, joint Nobel laureate with Jose Ramos Horta, agonised and warned of the consequences, Ramos Horta said giving security to Indonesia was like asking Slobodon Milosevic to guarantee the security of Kosovo.
But he considered that by making the East Timor issue the business of the UN Security Council "we outmanoeuvred the Indonesians".
Xanana Gusmao, the East Timor guerrilla leader, was more upbeat about the deal. "The long years of sacrifice have been worth it," he said.
Independent observers are more critical, however. "The agreement was flawed from the start," says John Taylor, Professor of Politics at London's South Bank University. "All those who were party to it were prepared to turn a blind eye in the interests of it going ahead and hoped for the best." He believes the advice of people like Bishop Belo - that the ballot should be postponed until proper security was in place - ought to have been taken.
In the event, the ballot was an extraordinary success. Officials with Unamet - the UN's civilian mission in East Timor - instilled confidence in people by promising them that the UN would remain to look after them, even if they voted for independence.
On August 30th, almost 100 per cent of registered voters turned out to cast their ballots. On September 4th, the UN announced that a convincing 78.5 per cent of them had opted for full independence from Jakarta.
It was after this that things started to go badly wrong, though the signs had been there.
In the run-up to the vote, pro-Indonesia militias - armed and, it is believed, directed by the Indonesian military - had become increasingly active in their efforts to disrupt and intimidate the people. The violence prompted the UN secretary-general, Kofi Annan, to postpone the ballot twice.
But with constant and very public reports of army-backed militia violence "why on earth didn't the UN Mission to East Timor in Dili call [Annan] and say `this can't go ahead until we've got some sort of deployment to protect people'?" asks one commentator. Ian Martin, the head of Unamet, is accused of being naive and not forceful enough in the face of the evidence before him.
However, one reason for not postponing the ballot was the attitude of the pro-independence National Council for Timorese Resistance (CNRT) which believed delay would mean more violence.
The possible shape of things to come had been well illustrated - as was the attitude of Jakarta. When [the Minister for Foreign Affairs] David Andrews visited Dili in his capacity as EU special envoy, there were killings in the city.
As the killing was going on a few blocks away the pro-integration governor, Arbilio Soares, was calmly telling Andrews that if the population voted for independence he would fight for integration. The Irish Ambassador, Brendan Lyons, asked incredulously if he would not accept the result of a referendum organised by the Indonesian president. The governor's reaction was to say that if necessary he would fight to partition East Timor.
Andrews reported the exchange to the EU. But the logic of the May agreement still held: better to grab the best chance of resolving the conflict in 25 years than nothing at all.
Worst fears were realised in the immediate aftermath of the announcement of the election result when militias went on the rampage. Within days, Dili had been virtually razed to the ground, its inhabitants fleeing into the hills, to the protection of the UN compound, or finding themselves herded into West Timor by the Indonesian authorities. At least 100,000 East Timorese are believed to be there - hiding or effectively in Indonesian detention.
The world watched, impotent. Memories of Kosovo begged the question: was no one going to stand up for the rights of the Timorese? The answer, at least initially, was a firm No.
The US Defence Secretary, William Cohen, showed no enthusiasm for the idea of American troops going into East Timor and the National Security Adviser, Sandy Berger, told American media that: "Because we bombed Kosovo doesn't mean we should bomb Dili." And then he added, rather flippantly, that: "My daughter has a very messy apartment up in college. Maybe I shouldn't intervene to have that cleaned up." He later apologised for this comment.
Behind the scenes, however, the problem was being taken more seriously. President Clinton, who had taken a generally more sympathetic view on East Timor, had written to President Habibie just before the referendum, warning of the grave consequences of violence.
On September 9th as he left for the APEC Asian economic conference in New Zealand he suspended military co-operation with Jakarta. The situation in East Timor was unacceptable, he said, accusing the Indonesian military of "aiding and abetting the militia violence".
US economic pressure was also brought to bear on Indonesia. As the Secretary of State, Madeleine Albright, put it: "The discussion that went on was how was it possible to invade a country such as Indonesia that has a very large, powerful military. So the point here was to systematically squeeze them economically to try to get them to see the light."
The UN Security Council discussed the situation on September 11th. Ireland succeeded in toughening up a draft EU directive but, in addition, David Andrews insisted that Ireland be allowed to present a national position - much to the annoyance of the Finnish EU presidency.
Thus, the Irish UN ambassador, Richard Ryan, was able to make a toughly-worded speech referring to "genocide" in East Timor -the State was the only country to do so. But other countries followed with tough speeches; as one Irish minister put it: "Ireland opened the floodgates for other countries to follow . . . we gave the lead at the Security Council."
The next day, September 12th, Habibie caved in. Indonesia would accept intervention by a UN-mandated force of any composition.
In Australia, public outrage forced the government effectively to abandon a decades old pillar of foreign policy by turning firmly against Jakarta. Thousands of protesters took to the streets, trade unions blockaded airports and hundreds of families gathered outside John Howard's office.
On September 13th, he bowed to public pressure and announced Australia would lead in the international peace-keeping force; Australia had new priorities.
"Our responsibility is to help the people who have been suffering in East Timor and also to think ahead of how important it is to the relationship between our two countries," he said. "We have a future together because history and geography and circumstances have cast us forever as part of this world and we have to try and make that work."
For supporters of the East Timorese, the turnaround in official policy in recent days has been astounding. "We couldn't believe it - what we were calling for became government policy," said James Wolf, a long-time supporter of East Timor living in Sydney. "First we said `recognise the vote' and they did. Then we demanded they evacuate the Dili refugees, all 2,000 of them, and they did. Then the big thing - send in the troops, and they did. Australia has moved more on East Timor in the past two weeks than in the previous 25 years."
THE Interfet troops now seeking to take control in East Timor are operating under the restrictions of the May agreement, notwithstanding Security Council resolution 1264 of September 15th authorising "all necessary measures" to restore peace.
But the agreement dictated a long interim period between the referendum and the vote of the Indonesian parliament in November to ratify the decision. Under the agreement, Indonesia retained sovereign power - a situation that holds true even now.
What this means on the ground is that there is an armed international peacekeeping force side by side with an Indonesian military - militia and army - guilty of many excesses. Observers fear that if there is a major confrontation between these two, and especially if Indonesian soldiers get killed, it will prejudice the outcome of the November vote.
Thus there is pressure on the UN force not to take action, not to kill Indonesians. According to one senior humanitarian official in Dili, the priority of Interfet is to avoid killing Asians and, just as important, not to allow any Australian soldiers to be killed.
Hence talk tough but act cautiously.
If the pro-Jakarta militias and the Indonesian army want to push the idea of partition for East Timor, they might be able to completely stall the deployment of Interfet in the western part of East Timor. If they stage a major confrontation, it is questionable whether Interfet has the stomach - or the political will in participating capitals - to face them down. The Indonesian army appears to be withdrawing - as seen yesterday in Dili - but, in what amounts to a policy of "Timorisation", it is leaving behind a loyal fifth column - the heavily armed militias.
Back in Australia, Howard's volte face has caused consternation among influential supporters of the previous policy of engagement with Indonesia.
Richard Woolacott, a former ambassador to Jakarta, sees the decision to send in Australian-led international troops as catastrophic.
"Our relationship with Indonesia has been set back perhaps for a generation," he warned. "We now face maintaining a force in East Timor possibly for a decade. The combined cost of troops and aid is likely to be at least Aus$A500 million a year for the foreseeable future."
The Labor opposition leader Kim Beazley has also said much of the damage in East Timor could have been prevented.
"One thing that [Prime Minister Howard] did not and this government did not do, was press upon the US, the UN or any other interlocutors, a requirement for absolute security to be put in place for the ballot and the protection of the population afterwards.
"We know he didn't do that."
But neither did anybody else and the UN is only as strong - or weak - as its member states allow.
