Deakin's general points about the character and energy of the new
bureaucracy are harsh but, I'm sorry to say, broadly accurate - this was
apparent well before Independence. On the other hand, there are enough
valid exceptions to this characterisation to warrant some hesitation in
accepting his judgment completely. The exceptions are important, as they
show two things.
First, many Timorese in the civil service are capable of and
committed to their work, despite all kinds of difficulties; second,
'lethargy and confusion' are common responses when power is centralised,
as it is in East Timor, and when top political appointees of often
doubtful capacity rule the roost. During the quarter century of
Indonesian occupation Timorese, with few exceptions, were kept out of
any position above middle management in minor government agencies, and
the nation-wide pattern of officials from Java and Sumatra holding
virtually all senior positions also prevailed in East Timor.
Moreover, their access to education and training was limited. The
education system itself has been described by knowledgeable Indonesians
as a 'stupid making system' (sistem pembodohan) - designed not to
develop people's skills in analytic or strategic thinking. The
consequence is that, relatively, the Timorese gained little education or
experience in technical matters and administrative affairs. This is a
sad legacy that Timor, and the whole archipelago, will take decades to
recover from. Yes, there is a lack of law on virtually all aspects of
commerce and, critically, land tenure. The reasons for this are complex.
Advertisement
First, virtually none of the previous laws from Indonesia are
appropriate, for reasons of underlying philosophy and administrative
structures and systems - so they have had to start from scratch. It is
disorientating, I speak literally, to be without a functioning legal
framework and system. Likewise it is extremely difficult to imagine how
much time and effort is required to create one ab initio. We too
easily forget how many hundreds of years have been required to establish
our legal systems. No one, and I really do mean no one including the UN
and Deakin, has much in the way of worthwhile experience to offer on how
to go about it.
Second, until you have a constitution there is no basis for making
new laws - hence the initial focus on the constitution and related
issues. The constitution was only finalised at the beginning of 2002 - a
few months before independence. In the interim, and until now, left-over
Indonesian laws were supplemented by ad hoc UNTAET regulations.
Third, on the issue of land laws, the present Minister for Justice,
on being presented with draft policy and regulations for land tenure and
dispute resolution in mid 2001, explicitly instructed senior UN advisors
to stop work on them! This was a decision by a Timorese, not the UN -
and this is not the only instance of basic legal work being halted for
unknown reasons.
Fourth, Deakin (and Dennis Shoesmith) is simply badly uninformed
about the amount of time and resources that were devoted by UNTAET (and
other donors) to developing administrative (and technical) skills and
structures. As a manager, maintaining day-to-day operations in the
environment sector was often problematic because so many staff members
needed to frequently attend management and technical training courses -
we all knew the training was essential, and beneficial, but it required
substantial time; colleagues in many other areas reported similar
problems. Almost all the comments about the UN removing equipment are
true, but they do require some background.
First, UNTAET had only a limited mandate, now taken over by a new UN
mission. There was never any suggestion, in official circles at least,
that the all of the goodies the UN had supplied would remain after
Independence. In early 2002 it took monumental efforts on the part of
senior UNTAET staff to get the newly constituted Timorese cabinet to
belatedly pay any attention to transitional issues in the run up to
Independence - one consequence of which is that they lost any chance to
negotiate a more phased withdrawal of facilities.
Second, after September 11, 2001, the US invasion of Afghanistan and
the subsequent flood of refugees, East Timor simply disappeared from the
international 'radar screen' - as the Chief Minister and the head of
UNTAET discovered when they went to the UN Security Council in January
2002. As a consequence, the already thinly stretched UN resources simply
dried up, and they were redeployed to other, now more important, places.
Advertisement
Third, the facilities we are discussing are those used, on the whole,
by the urbanised elite in East Timor. The 80-90% of the population who
are semi-subsistence rural farmers are unlikely to notice the lack of an
Internet connection! Finally, the cold hard truth is that there are
multiple millions of people in direr straits than the East Timorese,
despite their current difficulties. More generally, in East Timor the UN
mission (and the other donors) was faced with a task that simply could
not be completed in the time available - from October 1999 (when a
humanitarian emergency existed and chaos prevailed) to May 2001
(independence) - less than three years. The Timorese, understandably,
wanted to be fully independent as soon as possible; the UN's mandate and
resources were limited.
Anyone who expects to find a fully functioning modern state, complete
with all necessary laws and a fully trained administration, simply
doesn't understand what time, effort and skills it takes to achieve
this. The consensus, among those who worked in East Timor and who have
in-depth experience of the real Third World, i.e. they are not fly-in,
fly-out experts - is that if all goes reasonably well (i.e. no civil
strife, not too much corruption and nepotism, a truly patriotic
government, etc.) it will take East Timor a minimum of some 5-10 years
to be more or less fully functioning - that is, to the point where there
are Timorese who can capably handle just about all that is required
without more than minimal external assistance. If all does not go
reasonably well, this period will stretch out for decades; there are
more pessimistic opinions abroad.
On the issue of language and the elite Deakin has it pretty right,
some minor points aside, which is where I take issue with Geoffrey Hull.
Taking up Hull's challenge, it's pretty easy to identify one member of
the new government who doesn't speak Tetum - the Minister for Justice.
For over a year she has required all her staff, including expatriates,
to speak and write Portuguese! Speaking Portuguese was a job requirement
for a while in 2001-02, until they discovered they couldn't find nearly
enough adequately qualified people. Hull is correct when he refutes
Deakin's claim that Indonesian is used in most ordinary dealings, but
neither is Tetum the only language used. The language used depends on
the location - there are some 30 languages to choose from! My own
experience in traveling widely through the countryside during a year is
that one can get by quite well, and hold detailed, complex discussions,
in Indonesian with almost everyone, excepting older people.
I don't speak Portuguese, but I know what it sounds like, and I do
not recall ever hearing Timorese using Portuguese among themselves - but
I heard lots of them using Indonesian, or littering their conversation
with Indonesian and bits of mangled Portuguese. Listening to the
Timorese speak Tetum or another of the local languages one is struck by
how much Indonesian and Portuguese is woven in, especially for complex
or modern concepts.
As a coda, to suggest that two thirds of the vocabulary of Tetum[n]
is Portuguese is to suggest that Tetum is not an indigenous language! -
a delightful self-contradiction on Hull's part. Contrary to what Hull
asserts, there has been a survey (but not a census) of what languages
are spoken - and I guess that Deakin found his figures in the UNDP
report cited below. The UNDP (UN Development Programme) identified some
30 languages being spoken in East Timor in a survey conducted in late
2000 "... 82% of the population spoke Tetun, while 43% could speak
Indonesian. Only 5% spoke Portuguese, while 2% spoke English ... The
Planning Commission estimates that around 2,000 core staff in the civil
service will need training in Portuguese, 400 in Tetun, and up to 150 in
Indonesian." (UNDP National Development Report 2002, p.15) It is
hard to imagine a clearer refutation of Hull's implicit assertion that
Portuguese is widely understood and used - even among the educated
Timorese who staff the civil service. Just as I heard no one using
Portuguese in my travels, nor did I hear anyone using English - but then
there was a 2.5 times greater chance of hearing the former!
Levity aside, the second part of the above citation clearly indicates
the scale of the operational and economic cost of teaching civil service
staff not only to speak, but to read and write in Portuguese. In the
civil service, almost no one speaks Portuguese, some can't speak Tetun
[sic Tetum!] and almost everyone speaks Indonesian. Learning a new
language, especially one as difficult as Portuguese, requires many years
of hard work - it's not just a matter of a few quick lessons. A number
of our staff spent a substantial amount of time attending Portuguese
language classes during 2001-02 - these may have kept the teachers
employed, but did little if anything to make the staff proficient in the
language; this training was, however, a burden on our operational
capability.
On the language issue there was an alternative, and one that was
suggested to the powers that be in Dili: "Do not have official
languages." After long consideration, this was the deliberate
choice made by another newly independent nation - Eritrea in about 1994.
With at least nine major local languages, plus Arabic and English, they
made a pragmatic and democratic decision: Whatever language worked in a
given (official) situation would be supported. The cost - more resources
for interpreters and translators; the benefits - everyone is given a
voice and there is no energy wasting friction about who 'owned' the
language used. It is worth recalling that the language we call 'Bahasa
Indonesia' - the sibling of 'Bahasa Malaya' - existed well before the
nation state called Indonesia, and may well exist for longer, i.e. the
Indonesian state does not 'own' the Indonesian language, it belongs to
the people of the archipelago.
There is something more telling and less honourable that needs to be
known about the choice of official names and languages in East Timor. In
the district-level consultations in late 2000 leading up to the
deliberations of the Constitutional Assembly in 2001- public
consultations that Fretlin opposed and the UN insisted on - all but one
of the thirteen districts clearly stated they wanted the name of the new
nation to be "Timor Lorosa'e" - Timor of the Rising Sun, a
Tetum name. The Constitutional Assembly, dominated by Fretlin, and
Fretlin by its diaspora members, ignored this and used the boring old
Portuguese name: Timor Leste - East Timor.
About a year later, during the nationwide consultations to develop a
national vision for the year 2020 (which was conducted by the Planning
Commission with funding from the Irish people) there was a clear,
explicit and vocal, almost universal, rejection of Portuguese as an
official language - this was suppressed in the report. Finally, as has
been reported, it was only the valiant efforts of Nicholas Lobato's son
that managed to have Tetum[n] recognised as an official language. Had he
not prevailed, Geoffrey Hull would have had to perform impossible
contortions to show how making Portuguese an official language was not a
craven reversion to colonialism.
In summary, the problems with the civil service are inevitable - they
still plague most Third World countries. The challenge of establishing a
new legal system remains formidable, and is not helped by the attitude
or absence of the Minister of Justice, or the reliance on antiquated
Portuguese legal and technical standards. And the problems with language
were avoidable - but hubris has made them an unnecessary stumbling
block. Viva Timor Lorosa'e!