East Timor -- year one
The world's youngest state is experiencing growing pains. Damien Kingsbury* writes from Dili
On 20 May, the world's newest state, East Timor, celebrated the first anniversary of formal independence. Like many new states, the hopes and aspirations of East Timor's people have had to confront the reality that achieving independence, however difficult, is a simpler process than achieving post-independence success.
East Timor would in any case have faced the myriad of problems of a new post-colonial state, including lack of trained people, an under-developed economy, a narrow and limited resource base, etc.
That around 80 per cent of the territory's infrastructure was destroyed by retreating Indonesian soldiers and militia in 1999 only worsened East Timor's difficulties. However, the international community has been relatively generous to East Timor, perhaps because of the guilt felt by the United Nations for not being able to control events it promised would not happen, and for fleeing when it said it would not.
That East Timor is a physically small place with a small population, around 800,000, has meant that a lot of aid can very often go a long way. Yet in what has shaped up as a see-sawing equation, East Timor's rugged terrain has hampered aid projects, and the overwhelming majority of money spent there has been on salaries for international staff which has in turn produced a dual economy.
For one of the poorest countries in the world, the capital, Dili, can be an extraordinarily expensive town. And as the international community winds down its presence, the "trickle-down effect" from the UN/aid economy to the local economy is also reducing. In a territory that always had a very high level of subsistence agriculture, it is interesting that many critics complain of high unemployment. Certainly formal employment is low, perhaps less than 40 per cent and in some places 25 per cent or less.
However, given that most people in the countryside have never had formal jobs, this claim perhaps reflects the disappointment of aspirations about what independence might have brought with it, more than a particular economic failure.
The government, too, is increasingly criticised across a range of other issues, in many cases deservedly so. The party that has dominated East Timor (if mostly underground) since 1975, Fretilin, holds 55 of the 88 seats of the legislature, with its most senior positions being occupied by members of the 1975 generation who spent the occupation overseas, in many cases in Mozambique.
Criticism of the government revolves around a range of core issues including East Timor's official language, economic management, political participation, failure of the judiciary, and abuses of power.
East Timor's official public language is Portuguese, effectively imposed by the 1975 group who did not learn Indonesian. Tetum Praca, the local dialect of Dili, is the "home" language, and has much wider support. As an imposed language, Portuguese is unpopular with most East Timorese, who were educated in Indonesian, and it is widely regarded as impractical in a Malay speaking region (Indonesian being a Malay dialect).
This issue perhaps marks the greatest divide between the 1975 generation and those who grew up since then, and continues to impact upon education, especially at university level, and has the potential to affect regional trade. Although Indonesian is understood as the "language of oppression", virtually all East Timorese are comfortable with it. In a practical compromise, its advocates now call Indonesian the politically neutral "Bahasa Melayu" (Malay language).
In terms of economic administration, the fledgling government has adopted a policy of "sustainability". After being forced by Australia into what even in Australia is perceived as an unfair agreement over the division of the Timor Gap oil and gas fields, from 2008 East Timor is looking to receive just enough royalties to maintain its government. However, in a long-sighted move, the government has already decided to put a proportion of that income into long-term off-shore investments, so that the tiny state continues to have an income after the oil and gas runs out.
In a similar move that is producing short-term pain for long- term gain, the government has also rejected loans from the World Bank and International Monetary Fund (IMF). This means, for example, that the government cannot spend on major infrastructure projects. However, the port and airport are functioning well, telecommunications is slowly moving beyond Dili, and electricity provision is also increasing (although power is only available for short periods outside Dili). Schools have largely re- opened, with the main problem being the shortage of trained teachers. Two universities are also open in Dili, and while not of international standard, are providing an education at least on a par with those in Indonesia.
But more importantly, East Timor looks to be able to avoid the fate of many developing countries, which default on debt repayments and end up locked in a cycle of increasing debt to pay debt, which can ultimately impoverish even relatively prosperous countries. This is a very cautious economic policy, but it is probably a wise one given East Timor's economic prospects.
It is a pity, though, that pressure from veteran pro-independence guerrillas, Falintil, has led to the establishment of a small standing army. This army of some 3,000 is unproductive, expensive, and does not present a credible deterrent to East Timor's large neighbour, Indonesia. Much better would have been half this number employed as police, especially to boost the less than 200 personnel Border Patrol Unit.
Beyond oil and gas revenue, East Timor's officially organic coffee produces most income, even though world coffee prices are low. There is also considerable scope for tourism in what is a rugged and wild but undeniably beautiful and often spectacular country. It is said that in 1971, Dili and Bali shared a similar tourism base. Bali has slumped in popularity with Australian tourists since the bombing there last September, which killed nearly 200 people, mostly foreigners. Great hopes are therefore pinned on the future of tourism. In terms of political participation, East Timor is still finding its way. The 1975 generation acts largely as though it owns the party of government, Fretilin, and has a tendency to default to traditional expectations of respect and hierarchy. This has tended to make government ministers aloof and often arrogant, and there have been well-documented reports of abuses of ministerial power, which has alienated younger Fretilin supporters who are versed in issues of governance and accountability.
That the government is also highly centralised, in a country that is historically divided by ethnicity, language and region, only assists dissent in more remote areas. District administrators, for instance, are not elected, but appointed after local consultation. While in most cases they are good administrators, their capacity to act without approval from Dili is limited, and in some critical cases has been overturned.
In a bid to counter cross-border smuggling, one district administrator, in concert with UN and Indonesian officials, introduced border markets, only to have them closed down by the government. The government quickly recognised its error and re-opened the markets, but this counter-productive move was not untypical.
In Dili itself, the non-government parties are increasingly marginalised, and sometimes threatened, by a government that is still coming to terms with the idea of a loyal opposition. This "siege mentality" dates back to a failed anti-Fretilin coup in 1975, and also to a recognition that pro-Indonesian elements remain in, or have returned to, the country, which along with border incursions by pro- Indonesian militias has created a sense of unease. But in some senses, too, this slight tendency towards authoritarianism reflects a lack of political maturity within Fretilin's 1975 generation. One hopes these people, or their successors, will learn to accept the idea that they are publicly accountable, and open to criticism.
But the temptation to go the other way also remains, and the political future is less than certain. This political uncertainty is exacerbated by a weak and poorly trained judiciary, which instills little sense of justice in the general population, and appears unable to curtail abuses of official power.
Yet amongst all of these problems, East Timor's future is far from totally bleak. The country is being rebuilt, the people are in most cases putting the misery of the past behind them, and the sense of appreciation for independence remains palpable. There are problems, certainly, and East Timor is not likely ever to become an economic Singapore, and maybe not even a tourists' Bali. After its first year, the world's newest country is managing to chart a difficult but broadly positive course.
* The writer was recently in East Timor researching cross-border issues, and was a UN accredited observer to East Timor's 1999 ballot on self-determination.
Al-Ahram Weekly Online : 12 - 18 June 2003 (Issue No. 642)
Located at: http://weekly.ahram.org.eg/2003/642/in9.htm