East Timor's notorious martial arts gangs are growing in size and strength and pose an increasing threat to Australia's security, a new report says.
The failure to curb criminal activities by the gangs could lead to Australia having to spend more money on aid and security in the fledgling nation, says the joint report from the non- governmental organisation Austcare and the Geneva-based Small Arms Survey.
It warns gangs responsible for the majority of the violence that plagued East Timor in 2006 are still active.
The report's author James Scambary says extortion and protection rackets in the country's commercial sector are exacerbated by the large number of foreigners contributing to the economy.
"The mass of foreign presence is providing a boom in construction, in hospitality, prostitution, gambling and a range of other activities so there's a lot of profits to be made," he said. Some of the gangs have links to larger crime syndicates in China and Indonesia, Mr Scambary says.
He warns the maritime border between East Timor and Australia is poorly policed.
"There is potential for drugs or weapons importation and various other things." Australia may be forced to make a long term police and military commitment to East Timor if the gang problem is not resolved, he says.
Dili It's been 10 years since Rudolfo dos Santos, then 14, watched as his neighbours and friends were shot, beaten and hacked to death by East Timorese and Indonesian anti-independence militias, police and soldiers.
In April 1999, about five months before East Timor would vote in favour of independence from Indonesia, it was a sign of the destruction that was to come when the Indonesian military and its militias pulled out of the country after 24 years of occupation.
"I saw with my own eyes people being killed in front of me like animals," said dos Santos, now 24, speaking from his home in northern Liquica district, less than a minute's walk from the site of the massacre.
On April 5, 1999, Besi Merah Puti (BMP) militias joined Indonesian police officers and soldiers in Dato village in Liquica. During the day, soldiers and militias burned and looted houses around the district.
About 2,000 people had sought refuge at the home of the local priest in the grounds of the Catholic church.
"People were squeezed together in the house and the yard. We thought the residence of the priest would be a safe place to go," said dos Santos.
Militias and soldiers then surrounded the church and the priest's residence. "They told us they were doing it for our protection," he said.
"The next morning, BMP militias came to the church and started killing people with katanas (a kind of sword) and guns. I fell to the ground and played dead. When I opened my eyes I could still see them killing people," he said. "I got up and ran. I jumped over a fence and they chased me, shooting at me. I ran and hid until I got to the house of one of my relatives."
Dos Santos's father was one of up to 60 people killed that day, according to UN-commissioned research. "My father didn't want to escape. He stayed there and died. He said he was ready to die for his country," he added.
That night, dos Santos went back to his home, from where he could see the site of the massacre. "I watched as they loaded two military trucks with bodies and drove them away. Then the trucks came back and they loaded them up again," he said.
"My cousin pretended to be dead and he was thrown onto the trucks with the bodies. They took the bodies to a nearby lake and dumped them. That's when my cousin escaped."
The next day, militias went round the village telling people anyone who did not have an Indonesian flag showing in their house would "have trouble".
Soon after, BMP militias came and took another of dos Santos' cousins away, suspecting him of supporting the pro-independence movement. Anuku, 21, came back with stab wounds to his abdomen and died of his injuries.
Despite the gravity of the crimes, there has been little justice for the victims.
Last year, Indonesia expressed regret for violence in East Timor in 1999, after accepting a truth commission report written jointly with the East Timorese government blaming it for crimes against humanity.
But President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, an ex-general, has rejected calls for an international tribunal. The current leadership of East Timor agree with him, arguing the past should be forgiven in the interests of a better future.
This has not satisfied neither the United Nations, which continues to press for some form of international justice, nor many of the victims.
On April 4, more than 200 people gathered at the site of the massacre to hold a commemorative ceremony. Conspicuous by their absence were East Timorese Prime Minister Xanana Gusmao, President Jose Ramos-Horta and UN Mission chief Atul Khare, all of whom had promised to attend.
One key player in the Liquica massacre was Eurico Guterres, a prominent anti-independence militia leader. Although himself East Timorese, he served in the Indonesian military and was involved in several other massacres.
In 2006, Guterres was convicted in Jakarta for crimes against humanity in East Timor, but he was cleared of all charges by Indonesia's Supreme Court in March last year.
Now he is campaigning in West Timor for election to Indonesia's national parliament.
A decade after a massacre intended to blunt East Timor's demands for independence, Lindsay Murdoch finds that the appetite for justice continues unabated.
We confronted the mass murderer as his men hosed blood from his balcony; Leoneto Martins angrily denied the massacre in the East Timorese town where he was Indonesia's appointed mayor.
Before suggesting it was unsafe for myself and three other journalists to remain in Liquica, a seaside town of 55,000 people 30 kilometres west of the capital Dili, Martins dismissed our questions by claiming clashes between rival groups had resulted in five deaths. We suspected he was lying.
Shops and markets were closed and the usually busy streets were largely deserted, except for menacing groups of men wearing bandanas and ribbons in the red and white of Indonesia's flag. Wide-eyed terror in the faces of women searching for family members confirmed the presence of something terrible.
But on that stifling April 6 early morning 10 years ago the extent and brutality of what the world would come to know as the Liquica Massacre the slaughter of between 30 and 100, probably 86, innocent East Timorese in the quaint Sao Joao de Brito church was not immediately evident. Liquica was the first of many attacks across East Timor that left about 1500 people dead and thousands more raped, maimed or wounded.
While Catholics across Australia will be asked this weekend to observe a minute's silence, Eurico Guterres, an organiser of the Liquica massacre, will spend the anniversary campaigning in Indonesian West Timor for election to the national parliament. And former general Wiranto, the Indonesian in charge of the military-inspired reign of terror across East Timor that year, will be campaigning to become the nation's next president.
In East Timor events have not so neatly moved on. "When I speak with the victims, the one thing they ask me is 'when will there be justice?'," says Christina Carrascalao, a local who has begun her own crusade to improve the lives of survivors, many of them poor and illiterate farmers. "I tell them I can't answer that."
Rafael dos Santos was the Liquica church priest that terrible day. He tells how police shot tear gas into the church and how riot police, the Brimob, fired shots into the air and at people inside the church. That facilitated the entry to church grounds of the Besi Merah Putih pro-Indonesian militia, who began the massacre with arrows and spears.
"The people hit by the tear gas ran outside with their eyes closed," says Dos Santos. "Then the BMP hacked them. The name of this is murder."
The priest was bustled away at gunpoint by an Indonesian soldier as people inside his house tried to grab his robes, touching them and shouting "we are dying, we are dying".
Attackers shot dead people cowering in the priest's bedroom and troops climbed on the roof and shot several teenagers hiding between the ceiling and roof.
Only low to mid-level militia have been convicted over any of the 1999 atrocities, Liquica included. Indonesian military and police officers are beyond reach in Indonesia. Martins was among 19 accused of crimes against humanity at a Jakarta trial derided as a sham by human rights groups; all were acquitted. Guterres served two years of a 10-year sentence for crimes against humanity before being acquitted on appeal last year.
East Timor leaders the President, Jose Ramos Horta, a 1996 Nobel laureate, and the former president Xanana Gusmao, a former freedom fighter who is now the Prime Minister oppose calls for an international war crimes tribunal, saying reconciliation is more important than new trials. They warn of a possible backlash within the Indonesian military and destabilisation of their country's fledgling democracy.
Ramos Horta and Gusmao are scheduled to attend the Liquica church this weekend to mark the anniversary, but there will be none of the hero's welcome the latter received in 1999 on return from six years in a Jakarta jail.
Clinton Fernandes, a former Australian intelligence officer who was reporting in East Timor on 1999, says East Timorese cannot see why they should be punished for petty crimes, such as stealing a chicken, when people responsible for mass murder go unpunished. "The rule of law today cannot succeed amid a culture of impunity for horrific crimes," says Fernandes, a University of NSW lecturer.
He says the Liquica massacre shocked the world because of the clear involvement of Indonesian military in escalating violence against pro-independence supporters. The massacre also violated the sanctity of the church, where an estimated 2000 people had fled to escape violence.
"There is no statute of limitations for serious crimes such as murder, torture and sexual slavery," Fernandes says. "With time and pressure, there will be an international tribunal. It is... the only way ahead."
Carrascalao says survivors see their leaders as having opted for reconciliation over justice. "They understand the need for reconciliation but at the same time they believe there must be justice if what happened is not to happen again," she says.
Many victims have severe psychological problems and lapse into deep depression, while those bearing wound marks find it difficult to integrate in society. "Many of them [are] drunk and they cannot hold down jobs or feed their families."
Carrascalao says only five bodies were returned to families after the massacre. "Most of the families of survivors don't know where their loved ones are buried," she says.
Witnesses say that the bodies were taken from Liquica on trucks almost immediately after the massacre. When Father Rafael returned to the church after four hours, he found no bodies. A few days later, as news of the massacre reverberated around the world, the military arrived at the church unannounced, mopped up the blood and patched the bullet holes in an apparent cover-up.
Carrascalao, too, knows suffering. Eleven days after the Liquica massacre, Guterres stood in front of a crowd of pro-Indonesian militia in Dili and called members of her family "traitors" and enemies and urged attacks on them.
Soon after, Carrascalao, then 20, and her father Manuel a pro-independence leader from an influential Dili family received a call from her brother Manelito, 18, who told them Guterres had stormed the family house with other militia and, with a gun to Manelito's head, was demanding their whereabouts. "Don't come home, he will kill you," Manelito warned
The Indonesian military ignored their pleas for help. Before they reached the family home where 100 independence supporters, half of them survivors of the Liquica massacre, had sought refuge they were blocked by armed Indonesian police. Minutes later, Guterres led an attack on the house, killing Manelito and at least 11 others.
The United Nations says militia and Indonesian soldiers took part. A campaign of terror against independence ran for months, but the perpetrators underrated the bravery of the East Timorese, who defied the intimidation and voted overwhelmingly in a United Nations referendum in August that year to break from Jakarta's rule.
"Ten years later we want to get on with our lives but it's difficult when there hasn't been justice for what happened," Carrascalao says.
Mark Dodd East Timor's security forces and civil service are politicised, a situation that has not been reconciled and could trigger a return to instability on the restive half-island nation, a World Bank report says.
In its annual draft report, a copy of which was obtained by The Australian, the World Bank warns poor government decision-making and lax fiscal management are likely to lead to increasing wastage and corruption.
The role of highly paid expatriate advisers is also cited as a factor undermining government capacity. The report says multi- million-dollar inflows of royalties from the oil and gas rich Timor Sea have failed to bring any fall in East Timorese poverty.
East Timor is Southeast Asia's poorest nation. Nearly half the country's population, 500,000, are living below the poverty line. That compares with 36 per cent in 2001, one year after the country gained its independence.
The report also appears to be critical of the donor community for failing to help lift the country out of poverty after a decade of assistance.
"Despite concerted efforts by government and development partners, human development outcomes remain low," the report says. "Timor Leste (East Timor) ranks 150th out of 177 countries on the UN's Human Development Index (HDI)," the World Bank says.
Australian official development aid to East Timor in 2008-09 was worth $96.3 million, focusing on security, rule of law and the promotion of political stability.
The report says the Gusmao Government has achieved some "notable success" in maintaining peace despite the attempted killing last year of President Jose Ramos Horta.
Several hundred Australian peacekeepers remain stationed in East Timor at the request of the Government to ensure there is no repeat of the 2006 violence.
But the World Bank claims little has been done to remove the underlying causes of political instability, which erupted into bloody violence, leaving dozens killed and more than 100,000 people displaced.
"It would be a mistake to believe that these commendable initiatives have eliminated the risk of further political instability," it says.
"Timor Leste's long occupation left violence as a habitual way of dealing with disputes and frustration, and little has been done so far to reconcile old enemies or systematically address the deep trauma of two generations of internecine conflict. The security forces and civil service are prone to politicisation."
Unemployment remains another major problem for the country, with little relief in sight. Almost half the population is below the age of 15, placing huge pressure on basic services. An estimated 15,000-16,000 young people enter the labour market each year to fill about 500 jobs in the formal sector, the World Bank says.
The Government's economic policies came in for strong criticism, particularly after a decision on rice import subsidies that resulted in a dramatic lowering of agricultural production. "Crop yields are among the lowest in the East Asia region," the bank says. "In 2007... families went an average of three months without sufficient rice or maize to eat."
Dili The tiny impoverished nation of East Timor will need several more years of international assistance to ensure stability and tackle poverty, the head of the United Nations mission here said Friday.
Despite recent calm, East Timor's "development needs are still massive and continued outside assistance is required for several years," Atul Khare told a meeting of foreign donors including overseas governments and the World Bank.
Khare urged countries affected by the global economic crisis to continue their assistance to East Timor and warned aid would be necessary to keep the country on track well beyond the expiry of the UN mission's mandate in 2010.
Prime Minister Xanana Gusmao said building nationwide infrastructure would be key to lifting Timorese out of poverty and that effective security and democratic institutions were needed to prevent a return to instability.
"We are committed to closing the chapter of Timor Leste's history where we were seen as a country that is too fragile and in a post-conflict situation," Gusmao said, referring to the country by its official name.
"Today we want to start a new chapter, capitalising on our people's courage and determination, in order to put Timor Leste on a safe path towards development, the path we chose ten years ago."
East Timor, which won independence in 2002 after a bloody 24-year occupation by Indonesia, is one of the world's poorest countries with around half of its one million people living on less than 88 cents a day.
The country has been propped up by a UN mission backed by hundreds of foreign police and troops since 2006, after chaotic fighting among police and military factions and street gangs killed 37 people and displaced 100,000.
Dili International donors to East Timor kicked off a three-day meeting Thursday to discuss how to lock in security gains and promote development in the young nation, one of the world's poorest.
The meeting includes foreign governments, non-governmental organizations, the UN and the World Bank and will focus on maintaining peace and reducing widespread poverty amid the global economic crisis, officials said.
"2009 will be a difficult year in (the) face of the current international financial crisis, and a drop in the price of oil which has sharply reduced Timor-Leste's prospective petroleum revenue," a government briefing paper said.
"The challenge is to consolidate the reforms in the security and defense sectors, improve the efficiency and sustainability of the social safety net programs in place, and sustain economic growth and poverty reduction in the long term."
The conference started with bilateral meetings between the government, the World Bank, the UN and foreign donor nations.
"Today's meetings have been very positive and I have high hopes that the countries that have come will help East Timor come out of conflict and into development," Deputy Prime Minister Jose Luis Guterres said.
East Timor gained independence in 2002 after a brutal 24-year occupation by neighbor Indonesia that killed about 200,000 people.
A mass desertion by soldiers in 2006 triggered violence among police and military factions and street gangs that killed 37 people and displaced 100,000.
A UN-backed stabilization force returned security to the country and many displaced people have gone home, but security forces remain riven with divisions and around half the population lives on less than 88 cents a day.
A group of Australian forensic scientists may have solved one of East Timor's greatest mysteries. A team from the Victorian Institute of Forensic Medicine has found the remains of 16 people in graves near the country's capital, Dili.
They suspect they are victims of the 1991 Santa Cruz massacre, where occupying Indonesian forces opened fire on a group of mourners in a cemetery.
More than 100 people were reportedly killed, but no bodies have ever been found.
Forensic anthropologist Soren Blau says there are strong indications the bodies are victims of the massacre. "There is evidence of ballistic trauma so gunshot wounds, and blunt force trauma."
She says scientists will spend the next four weeks trying to identify the remains through laboratory tests and witness statements.
Lindsay Murdoch, Darwin More than 600 non-government organisations have warned that three second-hand power plants under construction in East Timor may endanger the health and livelihoods of the country's 1 million people.
Joining environmental groups that have already attacked the construction of the polluting heavy oil plants, the Timor Leste NGO Forum accused the Dili Government of failing to consider other electricity technologies and not obtaining an independent assessment of the environmental impact before approving the $400 million project.
"We fear the project undercuts sustainable development, could squander public resources and may endanger people's livelihoods and health," the forum said in a statement at a government conference in Dili.
The statement represents the views of East Timor NGOs and other overseas organisations that work in the country.
The re-siting of the more than 20-year-old plants from China to East Timor threatens to tarnish Beijing's image in the country, where it is one of the biggest foreign donors.
The Government decided to buy the plants from the Chinese Nuclear Industry 22nd Construction Company without an open tendering process. They will commit East Timor, which is rich in gas, to importing expensive heavy oil for decades.
Environmental groups say the plants will create acid rain, water pollution, toxic solid waste, particulate air pollution and greenhouse gas emissions.
The East Timorese Government has refused to halt preliminary work on the project despite the President, Jose Ramos Horta, expressing his concern about it.
Jayandra Menon, Dili Timor Leste is dropping the tagline 'the world's newest nation' in favour of 'the world's newest destination'.
And Singaporean hotelier Edward Ong Han Nam is banking hundreds of millions on it living up to the new label.
Despite the global economic crisis, he is going ahead with building Timor Leste's first five-star resort a massive project that will include a 350-room hotel, a business park and a 27-hole golf complex.
Thus, a journey of fits and starts for Timor Leste appears poised to start again. The tiny state is celebrating its 10th year as an independent country with renewed hope of progress for its long- suffering people.
This is a rugged country, largely mountainous and with many inaccessible areas. The view from the air on the approach into Dili, the capital, is majestic. Lush foliage covers tall mountains set against a backdrop of turquoise water.
The landing is equally breathtaking. The Airbus-319 hits the runway, screeches as the pilot brakes hard. Its nose stops just short of the end of the strip. Welcome to the President Nicolau Lobato International Airport.
The terminal is small and spartan. A burly European-looking United Nations Police (UNPOL) officer is an immediate sign of the ubiquitous presence of the world body in this fledgling nation a decade after it helped guide Timor Leste, then known as East Timor, to independence.
We land just as the sun goes down. The first order of business is payment of a US$30 (S$45) entry tax to a Timorese officer sitting in a dark room.
The flight from Singapore was delayed and airport officials went the extra mile to ensure a safe landing, since no planes land here in the dark at the moment.
It is my first visit, courtesy of Australia-based Austasia Airlines which, through a charter arrangement with SilkAir, began a twice-weekly service from Singapore to Dili in October last year.
My first impression is that its people are filled with hope. The many foreigners who live and work here, mostly with the United Nations, however are guarded in their optimism.
During the drive from the airport to the city, less than half an hour away, it is easy to see why. The gutted shells of what were once houses or buildings, many plastered with graffiti, continue to dot the scenery. They are a reminder of just how fragile nationhood is.
The Timorese are striving to overcome centuries of living under occupation; first for nearly five centuries under the Portuguese and then for more than two decades of Indonesian rule.
Timor Leste achieved full independence from Indonesia in 2002, about three years after the people voted for it in a UN referendum. But the path has been treacherous ever since. There was an outbreak of violence almost immediately after the vote and then again in 2006.
An abortive attempt by a rebel leader to assassinate the president and the prime minister last year again set tongues wagging about the country's future.
But officials here are confident that the country has turned the corner, now that their people yearn for stability and prosperity. Newly found riches of gas and oil in their own backyard in the Timor Sea hold promise that could indeed happen.
Royalties to the tune of about US$100 million a month from oil and gas have left the country flush with cash. A Petroleum Fund, akin to a sovereign wealth fund, now stands at US$5 billion, not a minuscule amount for a country of about a million people.
In the face of grim economic news everywhere in the world, Timor Leste appears blessed and immune from the global recession.
Debate appears centred instead on how much, and how quickly, to move ahead with development while improving peace and security in a nation which its President Jose Ramos Horta the internationally recognisable Nobel Peace Prize winner readily admits is 'starting from scratch'.
In an exclusive interview with The Sunday Times, he says: 'We have to deal with issues of poverty, employment, youth alienation, loss of hope and then, in parallel, organise your law and order institutions like the police and army. All these factors must be addressed, without which there cannot be peace.'
During the interview in his private residence on Robert F. Kennedy Boulevard one of few road names discernible in the capital the President is not only candid about the challenges ahead for Timor Leste but also certain about the need to act soon.
He speaks about tapping into the Petroleum Fund for investment in 'critical areas of the economy', including the building of roads, upgrading of the airport and port to international standards and improving education and health care, as well as in rural development. Perhaps, more importantly, he says the country has to move to diversify its economy.
Tourism is one obvious money-spinner for a country, which among other things, touts the best dive spots in the world and pristine beaches as its attractions.
That was certainly a lure for Mr Ong. 'It's a virgin place that people have not explored yet,' he says.
Mr Ong, 61, and a devout Christian, has been a hotelier for 15 years. He developed the Sutera Harbour resort, regarded as a choice accommodation spot for golfers and tourists in Sabah. Before going into the hotel line, he was in his family's construction business, working for Ock Construction in Singapore.
Located in Tasi Tolu, Mr Ong's latest venture is about a half hour's drive from Dili. Work on the 118ha site, which overlooks the beach, will begin by September and is expected to be completed by 2012. The as-yet-unnamed Tasi Tolu resort will be modelled on Sutera Harbour.
At US$350 million, Mr Ong's is the single biggest foreign investment outside of the gas and oil sector in Timor Leste since it gained independence.
But, surely, if the tourists are to come to resorts such as the one he is building, the nation's dilapidated infrastructure has to be built up.
President Ramos Horta and Deputy Prime Minister Jose Luis Guterres have indicated that they are looking at Singapore for expertise in building up the port and airport.
Tackling corruption is another area where they hope to learn from Singapore's experience.
So things are looking up for Timor Leste, a point emphasised by the UN Special Representative for Timor Leste, Mr Atul Khare, during a meeting of the country's development partners in Dili in the previous week.
He noted that 2008 was a good year for the country, with the re- establishment of peace and security as well as the reintegration of internally displaced people. He was referring to those who fled their homes in the violence in 2006.
Mr Khare, echoing the view of Timorese officials here, says the challenge now is to ensure the long-term sustainability of the progress. It is also time to move on from 'post-conflict recovery and emergency stabilisation to a development agenda', he says.
During my four days here, I could not help but wish the Timorese well, but this was tinged with some trepidation because of the nation's recent past.
President Ramos Horta, however, has the perfect comeback. 'How long do you think it would take for a Chinese takeaway in a major city to turn a profit?' he asks during the interview.
Acknowledging that he is no expert in the restaurant business, he says that he presumes it will take at least three to five years. What more for a country like Timor Leste.
But he is under no illusions about the need for Timor Leste's leaders to deliver. By 2012, he expects the country to take its rightful place in Asean, free of the crutch of UN assistance and in complete charge of its own destiny.
'If by then we still need a UN presence, it will be because we the East Timorese leadership had failed in the test. We should all resign for sheer incompetence,' he says. 'We were given ample opportunity, ample time, and we did not deliver.'
A decade on, East Timor is still linked to Indonesia
Hedda Haugen Askland and Thushara Dibley August this year marks ten years since the historic vote in East Timor for independence from Indonesia. In that time East Timor has become established as an independent nation whose leaders have cultivated a nationalism that emphasises East Timor's Portuguese heritage and valorises the resistance against the Indonesian occupation. Nonetheless, as the contributors of this edition show, independent East Timor remains connected to Indonesia in diverse and intricate ways.
Not long after East Timor became independent, Inside Indonesia decided we would no longer run stories about East Timor, unless they dealt directly with the new country's connection historical or current to Indonesia. East Timor was now an independent country, and we thought it would be an insult to treat domestic East Timorese affairs as if they were still 'inside' Indonesia. Ten years on, we've decided to devote an entire edition to the relations between the two countries, to look both at the legacies of the past occupation and at connections that continue in the present.
When the Indonesian forces left East Timor in 1999, they left a nation in ruins. As they withdrew from the territory, Indonesian forces and Indonesian backed militia systematically looted and burned buildings, randomly fired at and killed civilians and forced East Timorese across the border into West Timor. Seventy per cent of public buildings, private houses and essential infrastructure were damaged during the violence. Nine hundred East Timorese were killed after the ballot and around 500,000 people fled from their homes, either forcefully deported over the border or voluntarily fleeing inland. The violence lasted for three weeks and ended with the arrival of international forces.
Reconciliation and justice have been important issues for East Timor in the wake of the atrocities that occurred during the Indonesian occupation and in the aftermath of the referendum. Lia Kent's article 'The politics of remembering and forgetting ', explores the many meanings that reconciliation has in East Timor. Kent explains how the question of justice has been addressed by both the East Timorese people and the state. The question of justice is also addressed by Helene van Klinken. Her article 'Children of the enemy' describes the situation of a woman who was abducted as a child by an Indonesian soldier during the occupation. As van Klinken shows, justice and reconciliation are complex issues when people's lives have become intimately marked by Indonesian culture and life-style.
East Timor's culture and politics were considerably influenced by the violent nature of the Indonesian occupation. James Scambary's article 'Trapped in the legacy of the past' explores what militant youth groups established during the Indonesian occupation are doing now. David Gutteling's piece 'A problematic division' considers the various border challenges facing the East Timorese and Indonesian nation, including the question of how to deal with militia and cross-border crime. The theme of violence is also explored in Chris Parkinson's photo essay 'Graphic Resistance'. The photos Chris has taken of grafitti around East Timor shows how struggle, violence and trauma manifest itself through contemporary street art.
Despite this legacy of violence, cultural ties with Indonesia remain strong. At the end of the occupation, the vast majority of the East Timorese population spoke Indonesian, a language which offers opportunities for continued contact and exchange with their neighbour. But as Marie Quinn illustrates in her article 'Letting go of Indonesian', the question of language and maintenance of Indonesian language skills continues to present challenges to the nation. Angie Bexley in her article 'Getting an education' explains how knowledge of Indonesian language and connections to Indonesia are still relevant from an educational perspective, while in 'A hybrid popular culture' Annie Sloman shows how East Timorese pop culture continues to be influenced by developments in Indonesia. As Bexley and Sloman demonstrate, Indonesian culture remains a living part of East Timorese communities.
At the dawn of independence, East Timor was often seen in opposition to its former occupier and there was a focus on the two nations' divergent historical and cultural roots. The articles of this edition show that Indonesia and East Timor are engaged in a cultural, political and social relationship which is set to continue.
Hedda Haugen Askland (hedda.askland@newcastle.edu.au) is conducting her PhD at the University of Newcastle. Her PhD is an ethnographic study of East Timorese expatriates' lives after the realisation of independence in East Timor. In particularly, it considers how exiles relate and respond to political changes and communal violence in their home country.
[Thushara Dibley (thushara.dibley@usyd.edu.au) is a PhD candidate at the University of Sydney. Her research is about how local and international NGOs collaborate to implement peacebuilding projects in East Timor and Aceh.]