
The independence struggle of the people of East Timor is an inspiration and an example to every one, on the decent, inclusive and responsible process of achieving self-determination. Edward Said (1994; 62-3) has commented that often leaders of liberation movements are seduced by anti-colonial nationalism whose programme and mechanisms result in the replication of the exploitive behaviour of their former colonial masters. Jose Ramos-Horta as one of the key leaders of independence has built a good political foundation through dialogue, openness and intelligibility, which will hopefully prevent East Timor suffering Said’s fate. For the leaders of the region who promote Asian values, East Timor’s political ethic is a contrast that shames their efforts in governance of the people they liberated from colonial rule. Many academics are pessimistic about the survival of East Timor economically and politically but one might suggest that this was the argument first used to justify Indonesian invasion.
Jose Manuel Ramos-Horta is a modern day political Magellan whose diplomatic navigation and commitment to peaceful resistance helped found the world’s newest nation-state. His star, shines no less brightly when commentators like Mike Smith (2003: 39) suggest that a history of the East Timorese diaspora will reveal the biographies of greater hero’s of the independence movement. There is some merit in Mike Smith’s opinion especially in cases like the life of Martinho di Costa Lopes who has been described as “the fighting spirit” of East Timor. But Jose Ramos-Horta was instrumental in rousing the world to his cause by using pen, voice and discourse.
This essay illustrates the life of Ramos-Horta and how he became one of the key figures in the East Timor independence movement. His life appears to be a progression of diplomatic training starting with his home and the influences of the experience of his family. The schools he went to and what they taught. It also reflects on his life as a fledgling journalist and his exile in Mozambique. It discuses how the United Nations (U.N.) taught Ramos-Horta to be a diplomat and political lobbyist. That the turning point for East Timorese resistance came with the Santa Cruz massacre and the implication that Ramos-Horta and the Revolutionary Front for the Liberation of East Timor (FRETILIN) had let the world go to sleep over East Timor. It illustrates that the award of the Nobel Peace Prize while a personal triumph built momentum for a U.N. sponsored referendum and eventual independence of East Timor. Ramos-Horta’s answers to his critic’s and standing in the world community are discussed and how his life and achievements have brought legitimacy and authority to his counsel and opinion.
In the 1950’s and 60’s of East Timor, where Jose Manuel grew up, the island was largely a forgotten colony of the Portuguese Empire whose government was more interested in the retention of its resource rich African colonies than a remote island between Australia and Indonesia. However East Timor was useful as a training ground for Catholic priests or most often as a convenient place to exile criminals and opponents to the Salazar regime. These “Deportados” included Jose Manuel’s grandfather, an anarchist, who was deported to Cape Verde, later to East Timor and his father, a Petty Officer in the Portuguese Navy, who organised a rebellion to help the socialist side in the Spanish Civil War (Dunn, 2003: 11).
One might argue that Jose Manuel continued the family tradition with deportation to Mozambique and later, with 23 years of exile from Indonesian occupation but he did use his time more productively, surpassing his fathers in his revolutionary ambitions. Along with the Catholic Church the Deportados indirectly influenced the ruling elites of East Timor when they married local women and became coffee growers or farmers developing a close affinity with the Timorese. The Deportados often supported local grievances with officials, lobbied the administration for assistance in adverse areas, helped Australian commandos in 1942, and sometimes passed on their political ideas of socialism and democracy to the Timor educated elites (Dunn, 2003: 12).
Although the Deportados were a colourful part of Timorese society Jose Manuel was not directly influenced in his political ambitions by his father’s exploits. Only when he visited other Portuguese colonies and met some of his father’s comrades did he learn of his fathers “good old days” during the Spanish Civil War (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 7). One might speculate that the reputation and contacts of Ramos-Horta’s grandfather and father initially and maybe unknowingly gained him access to people and places that aided his ambitions for East Timor, especially with Portuguese anti-colonial movements. It is also surprising that the Portuguese or Indonesians did not use the “criminal” history of his family as part of a smear campaign when Jose Manuel became more politically popular. Of his father Horta (1987: 7) says:
“Father hardly never talked to any of us. He was a quiet, withdrawn man whose most faithful companion was a short-wave radio with tall bamboo antennas that enabled him to monitor Lisbon and the BBC.”
Perhaps his mother Natalina was more of an inspiration to her son as a role model because of her survival of the Japanese occupation of WWII. Natalina’s immediate and distant family were all killed by the Japanese except a sister who now lives in Lisbon and all the people of her village were either burnt alive in their houses or shot while trying to escape (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 5). After four years at the United Nations (U.N.) Jose Manuel received information that the Indonesians had captured Natalina, and he learnt of the death of two of his brothers: Guy and Nuna and his sister Mariazinha. The first message Jose Manuel received from his Mother after four years of silence was:
“Don’t give up, your comrades are still fighting in the mountains”
Fortunately Natalina was able to come to Australia through efforts of one of her other sons Arsenio who became an Australian citizen in the early 1970’s and now lives in the Sydney suburb of Liverpool a convenient base for Jose Manuel’s diplomatic efforts in Australia (Zubrycki, 2002 & Ramos-Horta, 1987: 5).
One might argue that Zubrycki’s documentary film “The Diplomat” illustrates just how politically astute Natalina is through her narrative and outspoken nature which perhaps Jose Manuel inherited from her rather than his father. But the most poignant example of Natalina’s character is her commentary in the book, Inside Out, East Timor (Ross, 1999: 14) where she says:
“Some people say I am a good person but others say I have a big mouth. But I am a person who does not like lies and I say what I think I should say. Whether people like me or not the truth should be spoken and not hidden.”
When he was seven years old Jose Manuel was sent to the Mission School at Soibada the oldest school in Timor and probably the best or maybe, only decent primary education available on the island. Hundreds of students came from across Timor, especially the children of elite families and included some scholarship winners. Unfortunately schools of this type have their dark side. Firstly the remoteness meant that for seven years Ramos-Horta was separated from his family and secondly the attentions of a Master Jaimie who took a sadistic delight in beating boys unconscious, a fate Jose Manuel did not escape when he was caught speaking in Tetum rather than Portuguese (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 9).
One might speculate that one the reasons the present government insists on having Portuguese as an official language may have its roots in the leaders early education many of whom went to the Soibada Mission School. There is no commentary on whether students were sexually assaulted but Ramos-Horta alludes to it in his book Funu (1987: 9) where he mentioned that Master Jamie appeared to gain sexual gratification from beating young children. One might argue that for at least some of the independence leadership the cruelty of the Soibada Mission was an early motivator in the desire for a better and independent East Timor.
Jose Manuel had an easier time when he went to high school at the Lyceum in Dili, unlike most of the male Timorese elite who went to the Dare Seminary. Here Jose mixed with other ethnic groups and especially girls rather than just the male children of the elite. It was in his final year at the Lyceum that he started to work as a journalist for the newspaper the “Voice of Timor.” Jose also attended meetings of an informal nationalist group, consisting mostly of office workers and high school students, organised by a Lisbon University graduate Leonel Andrade. They met in the park outside the Governor’s office in Dili, in full view of passers by, so as not to attract the attention of International State Defence Police (PIDE) (Hill, 2002: 52).
One night in Dili, late in 1970, at the age of 18, Jose Manuel fell in with a group of carousing Australians only to get drunk and make several subversive statements, which PIDE agents overheard and recorded. His arrest and interrogation resulted in his deportation to Mozambique. PIDE were ever-present, powerful, hated and feared by everyone. Even after the Carnation Revolution in Portugal in 1974, its power to arrest and torture remained undiminished (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 6).
The extended Ramos-Horta family and almost the whole town, except his father who was ill at the time and died a few months later, came to see him off at the Dili dock where a troop ship had docked. Dressed in his first suit, under the supervision of the authorities he embarked to be a journalist with a local newspaper in Maputo. Unfortunately, this job in Mozambique did not last long because the editor of the newspaper, a priest, fired him for dating one of his secretaries. Ramos-Horta later learned that the girl was the priest’s lover (Hill, 2002: 64).
Hill (2002: 65) suggests that Ramos-Horta’s exile to Mozambique was a “set-up” so he could make contact with the Liberation Front of Mozambique (FRELIMO) but the record of his experiences are only cursory even in his book Funu. Hill (2002: 65) suggests what impacted Ramos-Horta in Mozambique was the repressiveness of the colonial regime and the contradictions in government policy through claims of non-discrimination when apartheid existed on the beaches, buses and in restaurants. Also Ramos-Horta was frustrated by the heavy censorship of his articles about the military action and in 1972, when he was conscripted for military service he refused to enlist and fortunately, maybe by design, was deported back to East Timor.
Mozambique was a good training experience and insight for Ramos-Horta’s later efforts in East Timor against both Portugal and Indonesia. He saw first hand the military and political consequences of violent anti-colonial resistance from both sides and made contacts that were later to benefit members of FRETILIN. It could be suggested that the violence and bloodshed in Mozambique was one of the determinant factors in Ramos-Horta’s future peaceful and political resistance strategies. Moreover one might suggest that indirect evidence for Ramos-Horta’s networking resulted in links between FRETILIN and FRELIMO illustrated by their shelter of Mari Alkatiri and Roger Lobato after Indonesia’s invasion of East Timor. Also President Joaquim Chissano of Mozambique was a special guest at Ramos-Horta’s Nobel Peace Prize ceremony and the adoption of the Mozambique constitution for newly independent East Timor is further evidence of the friendship and ideological links between FRETILIN and FREMLO (Ramos-Horta, 1996: 9).
When Ramos-Horta’s returned to East Timor he got his old job back writing for the “Voice of Timor” and a new Catholic Church weekly paper called SEARA edited by Martinho di Costa Lopes, soon to be the Bishop of Dili. Lopes was a mature and experienced counsel not only to Ramos-Horta but many FRETILIN, UDT and APODETI leaders because he knew most of them from time as a teacher at the Dare Seminary. Lopes’ passion for education and care for his students is illustrated by his later efforts of supplying philosophy books to resistance leader Xanana Gusmao who was fighting in the mountains during Indonesian occupation (Lennox, 2000: 104).
But back in 1972, SEARA was the public forum for emerging leaders such as Nicolau Lobato, Francisco Xavier do Amaral, Manuel Carrascalao, Domingos de Olivera, Francisco Borja da Costa and Mari Alkitiri who later became the leaders of both sides of politics and sometimes violent opponents. Lopes threw out many anonymous articles submitted to SEARA arguing that if the authors could not take responsibility for their words their work did not deserve publication. But given the brutality of the PIDE he did not mind authors submitting articles under a pseudonym as long as he new their real identity (Lennox, 2000: 85 & Dunn, 2003: 33).
When Lopes lost his position as Bishop of Dili in 1985, Ramos-Horta was the only one he confided to about the Vatican pressure he endured and his forced resignation for his anti-Indonesian opinions. The Vatican were more concerned with the five the million Catholics in Indonesia who may have been victims of an Indonesian backlash if they supported the Timorese. Despite this apparent sacrifice of Timorese Catholics Lopes did not want the Timorese to fell badly about the Pope. Ramos-Horta took welcome time off from the U.N. and they watched boxing all day on the television. At the award ceremony for the Nobel Peace Prize in 1996, Ramos-Horta donated his share of the prize money to a charity foundation named in Martinho di Costa Lopes’ honour (Lennox, 2000: 215 & Ramos-Horta, 1996: 13).
Ramos-Horta’s article Maubere in the 24th of March issue of SEARA caused a lot controversy that gave PIDE the excuse to close the paper down and Lopes had to endure a lot of community anger despite his efforts to tone down Horta’s article by using the teachings of Jesus as a parallel. In Tetum the word Maubere was used as an insult to anyone who is poor and ignorant but Horta wanted to use Maubereism as a cultural tool for political empowerment. The Maubere of East Timor were a once proud people who farmed collectively and shared their crops, elected Chiefs who called assemblies to make decisions. Moreover the Maubereism that Horta and his political supporters were trying to promote was a philosophy, which sought to consider how to get the common people to be literate, free from poverty and other social injustices. Mauberiesm in the Horta sense had similarities with popularist ideology of third world anti-colonialism especially their African counterparts (Hill, 2002: 74 & Lennox, 2000: 86).
Only the political and administrative turmoil of the Carnation Revolution in Portugal saved Ramos-Horta from deportation but fear of government reaction hardly slowed his efforts to improve Timorese lives. Early in 1974 he organised a strike for builders labourers in Dili who were getting AUS$10/month and were asking for a wage rise when they got the sack. The employers complained to the government saying Ramos-Horta was a reactionary and Lisbon sent two officials to Timor on a fact-finding mission. When they discovered that Ramos-Horta an was activist against the former Salazar government they gave the workers a hundred percent wage increase and helped them organise a union (Hill, 2002: 69).
One of the major published critics of Ramos-Horta has been the East Timor Student Movement (ETSM) based at the University of Yogyakarta. They are largely supporters of Jose Osorio Soares the founder and later president of the Popular Democratic Association of Timor (APODETI), who wanted integration with Indonesia. Soares was a Portuguese colonial official who lost his colonial posting because of rape allegations and three years later was fired because of fraud charges, which he claimed were manufactured because of his Indonesian sympathies. Ramos-Horta also believed Soares was “set up” and invited him to the first FRETILIN meeting which he attended but never joined because his political mentor the Indonesian Consul in Dili, E.M. Tomodok, advised him not to deviate from a straight forward pro-Indonesia platform (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 32).
ETSM accuses Ramos-Horta of being inconsistent and a political opportunist because of FRETILIN’s boycott of the Macau meetings sponsored by the Portuguese Government at which independence issues were to be discussed. ETSM argues that Ramos-Horta deprived the East Timorese of their rights to self-determination by declaring independence after the August, 1975 coup by the coalition of the Democratic Union of Timor (UDT) and APODETI. Moreover ETSM accuses FRETILIN of starting a program of censorship of other political views. Ramos-Horta declared to international journalists that although FRETILIN was an independence movement not a political party they were not against a multiparty system. What FRETELIN did preclude were people or parties who wanted annexation and not independence from other countries (Mota, 1997: 63 & Hill, 2002: 93).
Despite Ramos-Horta’s continued assertion that he opposed some of FRETILIN’s domestic policies ETSM points out that he was FRETILIN’s most outspoken campaigner for independence on the international circuit, which smothered the Indonesian pro-integration message. Moreover, Ramos-Horta as one of the main leaders of FRETILIN was self appointed rather than elected and therefore not a legitimate representative of the East Timor people. Furthermore FRETILIN allowed the abuse of human rights and instituted a regime of terror by forcing 40,000 East Timorese to flee to the Indonesian border regions to escape FRETILIN violence and stand over tactics (Mota, 1997: 64).
Ramos-Horta agrees that FRETILIN’s boycott of the Macau meetings was politically costly and provided propaganda to the opposition opinion of FRETILIN as a group of communist radicals. But Nicolau Lobato, the president of FRETILIN, insisted that any talks about independence would be fruitless with APODETI’s presence because they only represented Indonesian interests. Unfortunately Ramos-Horta was in Canberra at the time and had to explain to the international press why FRETILIN did not attend the talks and admits he had no intelligent explanation (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 53).
The civil war that followed the August, 1975 coup attempt, resulted in atrocities from both sides losing control of the behaviour of their supporters. On returning to Dili in the second week in September, 1975, Ramos–Horta saw many scenes of violence not least of which was his imprisoned brother Arsenio, who was an Australian citizen, had returned to Timor for a short visit, against Ramos-Horta’s advice, and was mistaken for a UDT member, beaten up and put in jail. At Ramos-Horta’s persistent urging, Nicolau Lobato had most of the opposition prisoners released and for those that remained a stop to the beatings (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 56).
One might suggest that Ramos-Horta did have a responsibility for the behaviour of the supporters of FRETILIN, as one of their key leaders but his absence from the domestic scene for foreign relation issues excuses him from some of the blame. As foreign relations representative of FRETILIN he did admit his mistake in not going to the Macau conference ten years before the ETSM publication in his book Funu. It might also be argued that the atrocities showed FRETILIN’s inexperience at governing and administering the newly independent colony. Moreover, one might argue that ETSM’s publication is more in response to Ramos-Horta winning the Nobel Peace prize rather than a legitimate political debate. ETSM’s support and praise for Bishop Carlos Belo rather than Ramos-Horta, who was the co winner of the Nobel Peace prize, could be argued as support for his status as an Indonesian citizen, which he did not renounce at East Timor’s independence.
Ramos-Horta’s effort to prevent Indonesian invasion of East Timor was tireless on the diplomatic front and he secured many concessions from the Indonesians. In 1974 Ramos-Horta met with Indonesia’s Foreign Minister, Adam Malik who gave him a letter outlining his welcomed prospect for an independent East Timor. This letter was received with triumph when Ramos-Horta returned to Dili but although the FRETILIN leadership were encouraged by Malik’s comments and reassurance, Ramos-Horta was not reassured because the real power in Indonesian foreign affairs in belonged to the military and General Ali Murtopo (Dunn, 2003: 50-3).
Ramos-Horta had been received coolly in Australia in July of 1974 and was unable to meet the Foreign Minister or even the department head. Ramos-Horta believed Australia was the key to any independence moves by FRETILIN because Australia was the only country in the region that could prevent Indonesia from invading. Ramos–Horta hoped that the Whitlam Government would give strong support to decolonisation but the stalling tactics filled Ramos-Horta with dread. Fortunately he was able to meet with opposition, church leaders and other community groups who could only provide verbal encouragement (Hill, 2002: 54).
Ramos-Horta’s continued desperate shuttle diplomacy between Jakarta, Canberra and Dili could not prevent accusations against himself and FRETILIN as communists, neo-Marxists and him personally as a power hungry pragmatist. This did not discourage his efforts, as his historical record can testify. Ramos-Horta was ever open to dialogue and negotiation (Dunn, 2003: 53). But one must argue that for many of the politicians in the region, who met the 22-year-old Horta, he must have appeared brash, provincial and idealistic. Many government leaders of the region had survived or grown up during WWII and had fought their own independence battles. It is disappointing that no one appeared to have the empathy to negotiate in earnest with this young and inexperienced politician who must have been a younger reflection of many government officials of the time.
In August 1974 he was finally able to meet the Australian Foreign Minister Don Willesee who assured Ramos-Horta that Australia would be favourable to requests for scholarships, training and facilities for East Timorese students who wished to study in Australia (Hill, 2002: 116). But one might argue that this offer was another stalling tactic or pacifying talk to humour a passionate young man. Moreover the political paranoia in the region after the United States withdrawal from Vietnam fuelled the theory that communist countries would create a “domino effect” of toppling neighbouring governments. In hindsight this appear an insecure attitude especially when an anti-communist Catholic church had dominated the East Timorese in their education. But conversely when the leaders of FRETILIN are seen in the context of the fashion of the time, the young radicals one might suggest had an image problem that they either could not address or were not change.
Ramos-Horta, Alkatiri and Niklolau Lobato’s brother Roger left Dili on December the 4th, 1975 to try and raise support for FRETILIN from other Portuguese speaking countries and at the United Nations (U.N.). While they were in the air on the way to Lisbon, Indonesia invaded Timor. When Ramos-Horta finally arrived in New York, on December the 8th it was snowing, something he had only seen on Christmas cards or Church decorations but any romantic notions were lost when the driver from the permanent mission of Guinea-Bissau checked his hotel room for wires or bombs. This was the welcome to a lifestyle and mission of the next 23 years of exile (Ramos-Horta, 1987: 102).
As one of the youngest members of the U.N. Ramos-Horta was lonely and desperate for news, especially about his family, and what news did emerge varied between Indonesian use of napalm in air strikes and people starving during evacuations. His time in New York between 1975 and 1989 was spent with days at the U.N. and to support himself financially he worked nights as a security guard at a local school. He also managed to fit in a Masters degree in Peace Studies between his shuttle diplomacy between Lisbon, New York and Canberra (Zubrycki: 2002, Hill, 2002: 43). One might argue that Ramos-Horta’s time at the U.N. did more for Timorese liberation than any other single factor in the independence struggle. He succeeded where others like the Dalai Lama and Aung San Su Xyi have failed because the U.N. was a training ground in world affairs and where he learned to be the political opportunist that Mota (1997: 63) and others often claim. Ramos–Horta may not have had immediate access to the super powers and “the movers and shakers” of world affairs but along with the support of other small nations like Vanuatu, Guinea-Bissau and Seychelles he watched and learnt the art of diplomacy. At the U.N. Ramos-Horta also learnt to soften his image or at least appear more “diplomatic” through his dress sense and demeanour. Comparing the image of the 1975 young man dressed in camouflage clothing, NATO helmet and “Che Guevara” style beard he looked very much the communist revolutionary contrasted with the collarless black suit -almost priest like- or the dapper bow tied designer label “show off” of a sophisticated rather than confrontational person (Zubrycki: 2002).
Ramos-Horta’s first speech to the U.N. related East Timor's historical desire for self-determination through the earlier wars of Covalima in 1719, Cova Cotubaba in 1868, Manufahi in 1912, struggles against the Japanese and more recently the Portuguese (Hill, 2002: 43). One might argue that the U.N. did not respond to Horta’s first pleas because this appeal to the past was a repeated tactic of so many decolonising nations. Contrasted with his Noble Peace Prize acceptance speech, which outlined a seven-year autonomy plan it showed, how refined Ramos-Horta’s oratory and FRETILIN’s plans had improved. The Nobel Prize acceptance speech illustrated how skilled a political navigator Ramos-Horta had become.
Unfortunately, Ramos-Horta’s improving skills and softening image were still unable to get Australian government policy onside, when he visited Bill Hayden, the Australian Foreign Minister in the Hawke Government, in 1985. FRETILIN was suggesting that they would be willing to negotiate without any pre-conditions if the U.N. were to supervise. But Hayden declined to get involved with any moves that would jeopardise a strengthening relationship with Indonesia. Australia appeared to “lock out” any FRETILIN efforts to free East Timor and Ramos-Horta had to persevere with the U.N. and Portugal (Lennox, 2000: 14).
The political turning point for East Timor came with the Santa Cruz cemetery massacre in Dili in 1991 when the Indonesian Army shot Timorese protesters and members of the international press during a peaceful demonstration. For the first time people in the West were able to see the brutality of the Indonesian Army on their television news reports. Ramos-Horta blamed himself for allowing the world to go to sleep on the issue of East Timor but one has to argue that this was the political and diplomatic opportunity that started the momentum for autonomy that FRETILIN had long hoped for (Zubrycki: 2002).
Unfortunately FRETILIN received another shock in 1991 when the Indonesians captured Xanana Gusmao while visiting Dili. With Xanana’s imprisonment in Jakarta it meant that Ramos-Horta was the only remaining public figure that could organise the coordination of both FRETILIN’s political and armed wings. But Ramos-Horta for the first time was able to unite all the resistance parties of East Timor into a new political front called the National Council Of Maubere Resistance (CNRM) (Lennox, 2000: 18).
One might argue that Horta was rehashing his political ideas that he wrote about in the article that closed down the SEARA newspaper in 1974. But the Santa Cruz massacre along with Ramos-Horta’s persuasive powers must have convinced groups like the UDT that they could no longer fight the Indonesians alone. This was also an excellent political tactic by Horta because by calling the new front Maubere he was now highlighting not only the political but also ethnic and cultural differences between the Timorese and Indonesians.
In 1992 CNRM launched a ten-year peace plan that talked of autonomy with Indonesia but not independence. This Peace Plan became a major part of Ramos-Horta’s acceptance speech at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony, which also highlighted the plight of other prisoner’s conscience and many peoples trying to survive oppression around the world (Ramos-Horta, 1996: 15, 18). One might argue that Ramos–Horta’s skills as a diplomat were highlighted at this speech because his appeal on behalf of world minorities gave the East Timorese cause global categorization and an element of morality to their struggle.
Possibly CNRM’s more powerful friends may have told Ramos-Horta that they would arrange for someone from East Timor to receive the Peace Prize, possibly Xanana because he was in similar circumstance to former laureate Aung San Su Xyi, so that their autonomy plan had greater impact. To some readers this may seem fanciful but when Ramos-Horta met United States (U.S.) President Bill Clinton at the APEC meeting in New Zealand in 1999, Clinton remarked that Ramos-Horta had more influence with Congress than he did (Zubrycki: 2002). The Nobel Peace Prize helped gather momentum for CNRM and when the Asian financial crisis brought the resignation of Suharto in Indonesia Ramos-Horta and CNRM increased their pressure on Indonesia, Australia and the U.S. Ramos-Horta was in daily contact with Xanana in prison -through Kirsty Sword’s smuggling of a mobile phone and spare batteries- and along with other CNRM members would have daily conferences on their political strategies (Cheshire, 2002: 4).
Ramos-Horta’s status, authority and confidence was at its height in 1998 when he was part of a U.N. sponsored series of talks at Krumbach Castle in Austria with many of the attendees being pro-Indonesian supporters and only a handful of CNRM representatives. Ironically all the participants at the conference spoke Portuguese –not Indonesian, which possibly indicates that Indonesia nationalism had failed to include even the pro-integration leaders- and had grew up and gone to school together making this gothic setting surreal. Ramos-Horta’s basic stance was that Indonesia must withdraw its army from Timor and release all political prisoners. This was the fourth meeting of its kind and domed to fail because the Indonesian army would not withdraw from Timor let alone release Xanana (Zubrycki: 2002).
Ramos-Horta walked out of the talks without consulting anyone and told the international press that the pro-integration representatives were (Zubrycki: 2002):
“puppets and shit comes out of their mouths”
One might argue that this was a stage-managed controversial action to send a message to the Indonesian government but also it illustrates Ramos-Horta’s authority as a Nobel Peace Prize winner that he could sacrifice any good will from Indonesia or international community. Moreover he told the international press that he would rather be on a beach somewhere with Sharon Stone speaking about philosophy than negotiating a settlement with Indonesian officials (Zubrycki: 2002).
This excellent piece of rhetoric identifies with people on several levels. Firstly, that most people would rather go to the beach than work or that his opponents had no sexual prowess because they could not talk to women. Secondly, Ramos-Horta was connecting with the masses because it reminded everyone of the recent controversy in the movie Basic Instinct, a scene in which Sharon Stone uncrossed her legs, during police interrogation, to show she was not wearing any under wear. Perhaps, Ramos-Horta was using the symbolism of Sharon Stone’s performance to attack Indonesian bullying on one level and their sexuality on another.
However Ramos-Horta continues to draw criticism without any harm to his image and recently the East Timor Solidarity Activists (ETSA) in the U.S.A. responding to his article in the International Herald Tribune on 13th of September, 2001 expressing their regret in Ramos-Horta’s depiction of Arabs and Muslims as hateful and violent and asks them to abandon terrorism as a political tool regardless of the legitimacy of their grievances and the negative stereo-typing of the article.
As a noble prize-winner and a non-violent freedom fighter Ramos-Horta has the authority to criticise factions in the Middle East for their actions against the United States and it is a little naive of ETSA to think Ramos-Horta would not condemn these actions when many people in the United States helped FRETILIN achieve independence for East Timor. But more importantly it is a sign of how committed Ramos-Horta is to non-violent resistance.
Moreover Ramo-Horta’s commitment to non-violent resistance may annoy members of the ASEAN group because it attacks the behaviour of some governments toward their citizens who want the freedoms to speak about injustice. At another level it legitimises the struggles of minorities who are marginalised by the nationalism of their states. Having two Nobel Peace Prize winners in ASEAN highlights the need for an improvement in human rights and will cause some embarrassment for leaders in the years to come.
There is an old saying that some people are born great, some people are made great and some have greatness thrust upon them. One might argue that Jose Ramo-Horta was made great by the circumstance of his life. He became a political or diplomatic navigator through long years of bitter fighting, disappointment and failure. But his perseverance and determination harvested the skills, support and admiration that enabled him to win independence for East Timor. Beginning with his family who suffered from their own struggles for a better world they were able to send him to the best education available in East Timor. At his schools he met many future leaders, friends and connections that would aid him in the future and helped him to know his domestic enemies. Ramos-Horta’s deportation to Mozambique showed him a bigger world and the realities of war while putting him in contact with other Portuguese anti-colonial movements. His return to Timor and early work with FRETILIN taught all the young leaders of the resistance movement how to work as a team though these were some of the adverse years of their life with the invasion by Indonesia in an uncaring world.
Ramos-Horta’s exile in New York at the U.N. brought the young, provincial man sophistication, political astuteness and the networking of a larger group of supporters that he was able to use when the Indonesians made the fatal mistake at the Santa Cruz massacre. With the Indonesian capture of Xanana Gusmao, Ramos-Horta became the most important spokesperson in relating the FRETILIN message to the world but if Xanana’s capture was a blow the movement was revived with Ramos-Horta’s Nobel Peace Prize award. The Nobel Peace Prize gave Ramos-Horta the political and moral legitimacy and authority to challenge any government leader and opened diplomatic doors that had been closed to him in 1975. The collapse of the Suharto regime was the chance that the East Timorese seized in their hopes for self-determination because they had not only persevered but also learnt from the trials they had faced since the Portuguese decolonisation. One might argue that Ramos-Horta deserves the accolade being apolitical Magellan because metaphorically he navigated his people through the long night of foreign rule and came home to the safe port of independence.
Selected References
Cheshire, B. 2002, Dangerous Liaison, Australian Story transcript, ABC Teleivision, accessed 25/06/2003,
www.abc.net.au/austory/transcript/s485784.htm
Dunn,J. 2003, East Timor: a rough passage to independence, Longueville Books, Sydney.
Hill, H. 2002, Stirrings of Nationalism in East Timor, Fretilin 1974-1978, Otford Press, Sydney.
Lennox, R. 2000, Fighting Spirit of East Timor, the life of Martinho da Costa Lopes, Pluto Press, Sydney.
Mota, J.A.S. 1997, The Fight for Freedom of Timor Lorosae People, East Timor Student Movement, Yogyakarta.
Ramos-Horta, J. 1987, Funu: the unfinished saga of East Timor, The Red Sea Press Inc. Trenton, New Jersey.
Ramos-Horta, J. 1996, Towards a peaceful solutuion in East Timor, East Timor Relief Association, Sydney.
Ross, B. 1999, Inside Out, East Timor, Herman Press Melbourne.
Said, E.W. 1994, Culture and Imperialism, Vintage, London.
Smith, M. 2003, Peacekeeping in East Timor : the path to independence, Lynne Rienner Publishers, Boulder.
Zubrycki, T. 2002, The Diplomat, Film Australia Ltd. in association with SBS independent, www.filmaust.com.



