Timorese women raped by Indonesian militias need justice. So do all the other women who survived New Order abuse
Galuh Wandita
After the attack on the [Suai] church,
we were taken to Manumutin, Betun, in West Timor. We slept on the
verandah of the cooperative because there was no other place. On 11
September [1999], about two in the morning, six Laksaur militias came
in a car.... They asked about my daughter. My son-in-law called me and
I came. His name is OB, a Laksaur militiaman. He took out a sword and
said: 'Look. This sword is covered in the blood of four people I just
killed.' They told me to get in the car.... They asked where my husband
was; I said I didn't know.... They said: 'Do you like me?'... I had no
choice, because they had a weapon... OB pushed me. I was raped in front
of my son-in-law. I cried and cried, and felt so powerless, as if I was
dead.
An East Timorese woman told this story to
the women's organisation Fokupers after Indonesian militias ravaged the
country for voting against Indonesia on 30 August, 1999. An
authoritarian regime has fallen. An occupation has ended. In the new
openness, we are hearing stories of human rights abuse that have long
lain buried. They outrage our sense of justice. Old debts must be paid.
Transitional justice is the first hurdle
for an often-fragile new democracy, to separate the dark past from a
democratic future. But how can it be done, effectively yet in
compliance with international human rights standards?
In a conflict situation, women suffer a
special kind of violence. The men in East Timor were (often forcibly)
recruited by the militias, leaving the women alone to look after the
family. With the men gone, the women became vulnerable to 'proxy
violence' by those who saw them as representing the defiant life of a
whole society or of a group within it. Raping them was a way of
crushing the enemy.
Trials
Fokupers spent the first half of 2000
documenting cases of violence against women that happened in the weeks
around the East Timor ballot. We uncovered 255 cases of human rights
violation, including 46 rapes, five attempted rapes, and sixteen other
cases of sexual abuse. We know of at least four pregnancies caused by
rape, and two where contraceptives were forced on the victim to prevent
pregnancy. Eight of the rape cases involved sexual slavery - rape on a
daily basis. Some of these involved children. In others, children were
forced to watch their mothers raped. Nine of the rapes were done by TNI
soldiers, nine by soldiers and militias together, and all the rest by
militias themselves.
Fokupers also has information on the
murders of eight women. Many of these occurred in the Suai church
massacre, but some were specially targeted. Ana Lemos, for example,
chairperson of the resistance organisation OMT in Ermera, was raped and
murdered because, as one of her killers said, 'she was the most
courageous woman in Ermera'.
The 1949 Geneva Convention does not list
rape as a war crime. One reason why rapes were not included in the
Nuremburg trials and those held in Japan after World War II is that
both sides had committed them. The absence of women is a serious blind
spot in the post-World War II trials. But the Yugoslavia trials of the
1990s introduced a new element. They linked rape to the crime of ethnic
cleansing. New rules of evidence, now internationally accepted, also in
the East Timor trials, make it more likely for rape survivors to obtain
justice.
However, many problems remain. How is the
victim to be identified in the first place? Especially in a society
that tends to blame the rape victim, few are willing to stand up in
court and relive the trauma in front of their rapist and his defence
team. In East Timor, UN investigators are also facing serious
communication difficulties as they attempt to get an accurate account,
especially as the event recedes into the past. Time is another problem
- the Rwanda genocide had a million victims, and only a tiny fraction
of cases have been resolved. Yet, as one of my friends told me, a
survivor cannot begin to live again until justice is done. Moreover,
East Timorese have hitherto had little reason to trust the courts.
A Truth and Reconciliation Commission is
another possibility. Less bound by legal procedure, such a commission
can more quickly document a greater number of victims of authoritarian
repression than the courts. Similar commissions in Guatemala and South
Africa heard the testimonies of thousands of rape survivors. However,
after much debate, the South African commission decided that rape was
'criminal' and not 'political' and therefore its amnesty offer did not
apply to rape. This removed the incentive for rapists to confess, and
for survivors to testify, and thus produced an ironic conspiracy of
silence on rape.
Another important issue is compensation.
The Chilean transitional justice mechanism offered comprehensive
material compensation, including lifetime pensions, for families of
those who died in prison under Pinochet. An important non-material form
of compensation could be a national day of commemoration. In East
Timor, 25 November, UN Day for the Elimination of Violence Against
Women, is an important day for rape survivors.
Future
In Indonesia, we have to expose New Order
violence against women in the militarised areas of Aceh, West Papua,
Maluku and East Timor. We have to look also at the 'anti-PKI' killings
of 1965, at the 'petrus' killings of the early 1980s, at the May 1998
riot; also at women political prisoners, and at the impact on women of
the militarised family planning program.
In my opinion we should attempt to use all
three transitional justice paths - criminal sanctions, truth
confessions, and compensation. Considering the political situation,
perhaps it should be a staged approach that begins with the last two
while preparing for the first. This must be a survivor-centred
approach, where they themselves are involved from the start.
A Truth Commission must have strong powers
- be able to subpoena documents, and offer protection and compensation
for the survivors. Also, ordinary people must be able to hear the
stories and thus feel moved. Civil society can play a role in
investigations, too. Then there must be a serious effort to
rehabilitate the victims, making sure to involve them at every stage.
We need to create a safe space for women survivors. In East Timor,
widows and survivors have set up several non-government organisations
to document crimes and rehabilitate victims. In Indonesia, the new law
on human rights needs to be tested to see if the courts will take cases
from the past. Perhaps other courts - even commercial ones - can be
utilised creatively?
The road to restoration for the survivors,
and for us as an Indonesia nation, is a long one. Sometimes people ask
me why I am doing this. Isn't it better to forget the past and look to
the future? Such questions leave me speechless. It is precisely to the
future that I do look.
Materestu, 'Left over from death', is
the name of a group of women survivors of the massacre in the Suai
church on 6 September 1999. Galuh Wandita (gwandita@hotmail.com) is an Indonesian volunteer with the East Timorese organisation Fokupers. Extracted from a longer paper in Indonesian.
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