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Unfortunately for the Timorese, its huge neighbouring state of Indonesia also saw the Portuguese coup as an opportunity. They annexed the tiny nation in 1975. The international community could do little to stop thousands from being killed. The Vietnam War had just ended and no one in the West wanted to get involved in another land war in Asia.
It wasn't a good time for anyone in the next 25 years. The Timorese suffered; the Indonesians paid a heavy price to maintain control; and Australia nervously watched Indonesia for signs that they might look just a little further south. (Note: in 1999 Indonesia's population was 211m. Over ten times that of Australia's 18m.)
The 1991 massacre by the Indonesian military of over 200 Timorese demonstrators was a turning point for the independence cause. It brought increased international pressure on Indonesia. Australian Prime Minister Howard urged Indonesian President Habibie to hold a referendum on independence. A UN-sponsored agreement then allowed for an UN-supervised popular referendum in August 1999. A campaign of punitive violence followed the clear vote for independence. Pro-Indonesia East Timorese militias, supported by elements of the Indonesian military, were undoubtedly responsible. International outcry led to UN stabilizing force-INTERFET-restoring order.
The Australian government had been planning for such an outcome since Indonesia announced the referendum. They kept it secret from most everyone else, but when the violence started, the ADF was ready to go. My agency had a role to play, but they had also kept their plans a secret. They knew they could assist from Canberra, but what they didn't have was a man on the ground in Timor to distribute the fruits of their labours, yet.
They wanted someone familiar with remote work away from Canberra and the ability to work in the field. After ten years of meaningless training, my army reserve training was about to come to the fore. With no other ready candidate available, I was told to pack all I could in a rucksack and report for duty. My equipment would meet me in Dili.
Which is how I came to be plucked out from my comfort zone in 1999. From the comfortable surrounds of Sydney's overpriced Eastern Suburbs, I was sent to war in Southeast Asia. And as I reached for a paper bag for the 100th time that day, wishing I was dead, I knew who was to blame. "Thanks for nothing, Portugal."
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