The United States was perhaps the most important supporter of Indonesia’s President Suharto and his New Order regime, and the US-provided weapons allowed Indonesia to prosecute its military conflicts. The United States also had deep economic ties to Indonesia, including, for example, the American multinational corporation Freeport McMoRan – the largest foreign contributor to the tax base of Indonesia during the New Order period (1965-1998). Diplomatic ties between Indonesia and the United States were close during this period as well, at least until the Cold War ended.

The tragic history of Indonesia’s genocidal occupation of Timor-Leste was enabled in a large part by these connections, but despite the grim situation on the half-island, few Americans knew about it and even fewer Americans cared.[1] And yet in less than a decade, from the Santa Cruz cemetery massacre on November 12, 1991 to the downfall of Suharto and the referendum that led to Timorese independence on August 30, 1999, the East Timor Action Network (ETAN) formed and went on to play a significant role in affecting US policy toward Indonesia, creating leverage in conjunction with other groups around the globe that contributed to Timorese self-determination.[2]

Through a series of coordinated lobbying campaigns that targeted members of the US Congress combined with local grassroots activism, ETAN made Timor-Leste and the US relationship to Indonesia an issue that could not be ignored. Policy toward Indonesia shifted toward a more critical stance in the 1990s – the period when ETAN was most active – and many of these policies were consistent with ETAN lobbying. Although ETAN was not solely responsible for these shifts, it certainly helped influence the discussion. Internationally, ETAN was part of a community of human rights groups similarly focused on the issue, as well as groups with a much broader focus such as Amnesty International, TAPOL and Human Rights Watch.[3] And yet ETAN was a small group, working on a fringe issue, and facing opposition from firmly entrenched interests – although some of these interests were open to changing their positions after the Cold War and given the mounting evidence of Indonesian brutalities in the aggrieved territory.

In this chapter, I give a brief overview of the context of ETAN’s founding, its structure, and its growth. Next, I discuss some of the major campaigns in which ETAN participated. Internationally, I discuss these campaigns and their influence on US policy – and subsequent pressure on Indonesia – in terms of Margaret Keck and Kathryn Sikkink’s model of transnational advocacy networks. Domestically, I discuss the influence of ETAN in the context of Robert Dahl’s polyarchy.

There were many factors that contributed to the end of Indonesia’s brutal rule in Timor-Leste in 1999 and the latter’s transition – or perhaps return – to full independence on May 20, 2002.[4] Primarily it was the determination and sacrifice of the East Timorese themselves, who spoke out, demonstrated and resisted at great risk and faced imprisonment, torture and death in extraordinary numbers. The timing was important as well. The Cold War had ended, removing democratic states’ rationales for supporting vicious dictatorships in the name of anti-communism. Indonesia was suffering the effects of a catastrophic economic collapse because of the 1997 East Asian financial crisis, and due to endemic corruption was perhaps the worst hit in the region – which made it vulnerable to political pressure in exchange for financial support.

ETAN was not the only group  supporting the Timorese right to self-determination and attempting to change the policies that facilitated the brutal situation in the territory. But because of the role of the United States internationally and in particular its relationship to Indonesia, ETAN was in a unique position. Acknowledged by both Timorese and Indonesians, ETAN played an important role in disseminating information about Timor-Leste, a country little known in the group’s early days, as well as initiating campaigns and lobbying on behalf of self-determination and human rights, and against support for Indonesia’s military regime.[5]

Background

Prior to 1974, Timor-Leste was viewed as a colonial backwater, a Portuguese holdover marked by neglect, underdevelopment, and, markedly, without a particularly well-developed or widespread sense of Timorese nationalism clamoring for independence. This changed in 1974 following the Carnation Revolution in Lisbon. Following the left-wing coup d’état, the new leadership in Portugal announced that it would quit its colonies. Elites, generally Portugal-oriented, formed parties and began preparing for some kind of transition. Indonesia, however, had its sights set on the half-island (the western part of the island had been Indonesian since independence). Through disinformation and clandestine means, it set the two main parties, Frente Revolucionária de Timor-Leste Independente (Fretilin) and União Democrática Timorense (UDT), both pro-independence, against each other, leading to a brief civil war that Fretilin quickly won.

Some in the UDT leadership fled to (Indonesian) West Timor, and Indonesia used the conflict as a pretext to invade, bolstered by false claims that Fretilin was communist and by coercing UDT leaders to sign a document asking Indonesia to intervene. The United States and other western powers assented. On November 28, 1975, Fretilin leadership declared independence in a bid for recognition. Only six countries recognised the declaration, including former Portuguese colonies Guinea-Bissau, Cape Verde, São Tomé y Príncipe, and Mozambique, as well as Guinea and Albania. No major powers acknowledged the declaration, and on December 7 Indonesia invaded.

By all accounts the invasion was brutal and amounted to a free-fire zone; this set the tone for the next 24 years under Indonesian occupation. Estimates run as high as 200,000 Timorese dead due to the widespread killing as well as famine and disease.[6] With Indonesia as a firmly anti-communist state after the mass killings of 1965-66 (as well as the fact that its population dwarfed that of Timor-Leste), Cold War politics meant that the West, led by the United States, would support Indonesia, including shipments of arms used in the conflict and military training for officers who would serve there, and downplay or mislead the public about the conflict (Simpson 2004: 455). Indonesia’s occupation was viewed as a fait accompli (Weatherbee 1981).

The East Timor Action Network

ETAN was founded in November 1991 following the Santa Cruz massacre earlier that month. Indonesia had killed or “disappeared” hundreds of peacefully protesting Timorese during and in the days following the demonstration. What differentiated Santa Cruz from previous acts of large-scale violence in Timor-Leste was the fact that it was filmed by British journalist Christopher Wenner (who used the name Max Stahl) and the footage smuggled out of the country and broadcast around the world shortly thereafter. The world could see the brutality of the occupation, including Indonesian soldiers using US-made weapons to murder peaceful demonstrators as well as attack American journalists Amy Goodman and Allan Nairn, who suffered a fractured skull. The use of American arms and American support more broadly is part of what pushed the founders of ETAN to act. If they could do nothing about Indonesia’s policies toward Timor-Leste perhaps they could at least prevent the use of American arms or influence US foreign policy toward Indonesia.

ETAN targeted other elements of the US-Indonesia relationship as well, such as the International Military Education and Training (IMET) program, and demonstrated in front of Indonesian embassies and consulates. Other countries were targeted within the United States as well, such as the Swedish consulate in Seattle following the sale of Bofor cannons to Indonesia in 1996. ETAN also targeted influential individuals and politicians viewed as supporting Indonesia, such as Henry Kissinger, Secretary of State at the time of the invasion. Knowledge of the atrocities of the Indonesian military in Timor-Leste was low in the US, and through demonstrations and public shaming ETAN hoped to raise consciousness (Loh and Heiskanen 2020: 296-297).

The group was formed in New York State, but quickly found allies who formed local chapters throughout the United States. It also reached out to other human rights-oriented organisations in the United States and elsewhere, establishing itself as both a network within the United States and part of a network internationally; Carmel Budiardjo of TAPOL was an early supporter. Over time, the organisation increased in size, recruiting activists to establish chapters throughout the United States. As events in the 1990s unfolded, including  Santa Cruz, the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to José Ramos-Horta and Bishop Carlos Felipe Ximenes Belo in 1996, the East Asian Economic Crisis of 1997-98, the abdication of Suharto in 1998, the announcement of a referendum in 1999 and the violence that broke out leading up to the vote – ETAN found itself gaining more and more support. At its height, ETAN had 28 chapters throughout the United States, dozens of dedicated activists, and thousands of supporters.[7] Voluntary donations increased, enabling the organisation to create paid positions such as Washington, DC Coordinators (Lynn Fredrickon and Karen Orenstein), National Field Organisers (Kristin Sundell and Dianne Farsetta), and a Media and Outreach Coordinator (John Miller) – National Coordinator Charles Scheiner remained unpaid. In 1998, Constancio Pinto joined the ETAN staff. Pinto was one of the organisers of the protest that became the Santa Cruz massacre and he had fled Timor-Leste because his activism had become a danger to his life. He completed a BA at Brown University and an MA at Columbia, testified before the US Congress, and did several speaking tours with ETAN prior to the referendum, as did other notable Timorese and Indonesian activists.

ETAN held annual meetings beginning in 1993 that grew from just a few people based predominantly in the northeastern United States to dozens from all over the country following the political changes in Indonesia beginning in 1997. ETAN sponsored speaking tours of Timorese and Indonesian activists, before and after the referendum. Annual Lobby Days events brought activists to Washington, DC, in a coordinated effort to meet with members of congress in the nation’s capital and to complement lobbying done in home districts. In the run up to the referendum and as part of the International Federation for East Timor (IFET), ETAN coordinated and trained groups that went to Timor-Leste to act as observers, and ETAN had a strong presence in the IFET mission.[8] IFET was the largest independent accredited observer team, and included members from some 20 countries. Dozens of ETAN members who went as observers and support staff, making up over one-third of the 150-member strong mission. Individual chapters held their own local events as well, and some of these are noted in reports in ETAN’s newsletter Estafeta, with an archive available online at etan.org/estafeta.

ETAN’s membership was wide-ranging, diverse and religiously plural, from retirees to student activists. The organisation had strong ties to journalists such as Amy Goodman, Allan Nairn, Max Stahl and Arnold Kohen (who played a key role in facilitating western communication with the Timorese) but also had connections – and was a source for – journalists throughout the globe. Academics, including experts in Southeast Asia and/or human rights, were also in ETAN’s orbit. Noam Chomsky frequently cited Timor-Leste in his work criticising US foreign policy and was a supporter and wrote missives for fundraising. Benedict Anderson, Roger Clark, Judy Ledgerwood, Daniel Lev, Jacqueline Siapno, David Targan, Sylvia Tiwon, Jeffery Winters, and David Wurfel were among other established US-based academics who supported ETAN’s work. ETAN also attracted graduate students, some of whom focused on or wrote about Indonesia and Timor-Leste in their academic careers such as Bradley Simpson, Loren Ryter, Joseph Nevins, and John Roosa.[9] Several chapters were affiliated with their local universities, which enabled institutional support for events and attracted student activists. But the membership – and leadership – included people from all walks of life, including those with deep connections to human rights activism and those who were relatively new to activism, many of whom acknowledged the role of Chomsky in drawing them to the cause.

The two years prior and the two years after the referendum were a high point for ETAN in terms of support and funding; in 1999, the organisation took in $260,000 in revenue. The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 signaled a shift in American foreign policy toward terrorism and Afghanistan and Iraq, and the granting of full independence in May 2002 to Timor-Leste led to a further decline in support for the organisation.[10]

In national meetings in 2000 and 2001, ETAN representatives decided to continue as an organisation and broaden the focus to other problem areas in Indonesia, such as West Papua and Aceh, as well as broader issues of human rights in the country.[11] The organisation quickly dwindled in support and membership, but remained held in high esteem in Timor-Leste; in 2012 the government awarded ETAN the Order of Timor-Leste. Members of ETAN and IFET including Nevins, Scheiner and Pamela Sexton co-founded the Dili-based NGO La’o Hamutuk (“Walking Together” in Tetum) in 2000, creating a mixed team of Timorese and international staff that continues to advocate for human rights and monitor the situation in Timor-Leste; it is extremely well-regarded as a source of information and analysis on a wide-ranging array of topics (Gunn, 2007: 104), as Charlie Scheiner’s chapter shows.

This accounting of ETAN’s membership is by no means comprehensive and does not come close to capturing the diversity of members and supporters of ETAN. Similarly, the description of the group’s history and activities is by no means meant to be exhaustive – a work ­encompassing these would necessitate much more space. Rather, after a brief discussion of transnational advocacy networks this chapter focuses primarily on the coordinated national campaigns of ETAN that had as their goals, in general, a change in US policy toward Indonesia in order to pressure Indonesia to improve the situation in Timor-Leste and, eventually, to support Timorese self-determination.[12]

NGOs and transnational advocacy networks­

The number of internationally focused human rights networks grew tremendously in the post-World War II era, and recently have been further enabled by the internet, email and social media.[13] Scholars paid little attention to the effect of NGOs on policy and sovereignty until the 1990s, but many have since acknowledged that they require a rethinking of the nature of sovereignty given their ability to influence politics (Brown, Ebrahim and Batliwala 2012: 1098).

In the Winter 1992 edition of the journal International Organization, editor Peter Haas and the other authors argue that policy is increasingly being made up by people outside of governments who have access to specific scientific knowledge. This knowledge enables them to make reasoned policy recommendations and thus influence policy with regard to their specific fields, such as cetologists and whaling regimes or atmospheric scientists and the banning of chlorofluorocarbons. These epistemic communities have changed how policy is framed and created. As Haas states, “control over knowledge and information is an important dimension of power and that the diffusion of new ideas and information can lead to new patterns of behavior and prove to be an important determinant of international policy coordination” (Haas 1992: 2-3).

Later that decade, Margaret E. Keck and Kathryn Sikkink published their book on transnational advocacy networks, Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International Politics (Keck and Sikkink 1998). Knowledge, albeit not (necessarily) scientific, was similarly important, although in many cases it was the ability to collect and disseminate information in places or environments in which the facts were disputed or purposefully falsified to reflect the interest of an authoritarian state, such as Indonesia in the New Order with regard to Timor-Leste.[14]

Non-traditional actors, they argue, are “helping to transform the practice of national sovereignty”. Unlike epistemic communities, transnational advocacy networks (TANs) are “(m)otivated by values rather than material or professional norms” (Keck and Sikkink 1998: 2). Rather than transmitting scientific knowledge in order to affect policy, TANs transmit information and frame issues based on moral suasion. Networks are comprised of international and domestic non-governmental organisations (NGOs) that “play a central role in all advocacy networks, usually initiating actions and pressuring more powerful actors to take positions” (Keck and Sikkink 1998: 9). ETAN is one such NGO in the Timor-Leste solidarity network.

Pressure is brought to bear on a state that violates human rights through a “boomerang effect.” Because these states frequently ignore domestic pressure to change their behavior, activists within these states work with actors in other states, within the advocacy network, so that the latter actors can lobby their home states to put pressure on the state committing the rights violations. Because activists in country X cannot expect to change the behavior in state Y, they instead can lobby their home country to change its policies toward country Y, thereby exerting pressure.

There are several factors that contribute to the ability of the pressure of one state to affect the policies of another, including the dynamics of power as well as the pre-existing relationship between the two countries. In our example, the United States exerting pressure on Indonesia, both the power dynamic and the pre-existing relationship between the two countries enabled the successful exertion of pressure. Following the anti-communist massacres of 1965-66 and the ascent of General Suharto, Indonesia had abandoned its non-aligned position, turned hard to the right, and allied itself with the United States. Anti-communism provided an ideological basis for the relationship during the height of the Vietnam War, but it was instrumental as well. The United States had courted military brass in Indonesia prior to 1965, promising aid and cooperation. After 1965 these promises came true, and the US relationship to the Indonesian military was cemented, as was the economic relationship (Simpson 2008).

This relationship had been established for ten years when on December 7, 1975, Indonesia invaded Timor-Leste – just after President Gerald Ford and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger had left the country and given assurances that the United States would not try to stop the invasion. Timor-Leste was, in a way, a reward for Suharto’s fealty.[15] One could argue the same thing for recognition for Indonesia’s occupation of West Papua during the Suharto regime, although this continues. Although the massacres unfolding in Timor-Leste – tens of thousands being killed in the first few years of the Indonesian invasion – the United States (and other allies) denied the extent of the killing, obfuscated its role in enabling the tragedy, and used extralegal means that were against congressional intent to continue to funnel arms into the territory. Daniel Patrick Moynihan, the ambassador to the United Nations under Ford’s successor Jimmy Carter, bragged in his memoirs about stymieing UN resolutions condemning Indonesia’s invasion (Moynihan and Weaver 1978: 247).

The patron-client relationship between the United States and Indonesia continued through the 1980s as Indonesia’s occupation of Timor-Leste resulted in famine and widespread human rights abuses. Military training, arms sales, and economic aid continued to flow. Although the full extent of Suharto’s corruption was possibly not known – the United Nations and World Bank estimated he may have pilfered up to $35 billion during his reign[16] – the fact that he was corrupt certainly was. He had proven firmly anti-communist and that was good enough.

With the fall of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War, however, the ideological basis for the relationship was immediately less important. The Santa Cruz massacre, referred to above, became a catalyst. Although Indonesia was still not susceptible to domestic pressure in the early nineties – this would come after the financial crisis in 1998 – the changes in the international environment coupled with the strengthening of Timor-Leste-oriented TANs (and the creation of new groups such as ETAN) meant that the United States’ position could be swayed to exert pressure on Indonesia over Timor-Leste.

(Some of) ETAN’s Campaigns

ETAN’s goals included the cessation of the brutal military occupation and gross human rights abuses in the territory and support for self-determination. Ending military sales and training to Indonesia was viewed as a means toward the first goal, and given the inability to directly affect policy in Indonesia combined with activists’ moral qualms about American support for the Indonesian military it was viewed as an essential first step. Santa Cruz and the solidarity networks that sprung up in its aftermath, as well as the end of the Cold War, meant that 1991 was a key year in Timor-Leste’s struggle for self-determination.[17] In the US, ETAN activists targeted specific arms sales and training programs, and lobbied member of Congress in order to gain support and introduce legislation. The campaigns were effective. The first target was to cancel a country-to-country program called International Military and Education Training (IMET). The stated goal of the training was to socialise Indonesian military officers in the hopes of fostering a more democratic armed forces as well as create connections to the US counterparts.[18] Indonesian officers studied at US military academies, and American soldiers participated in training exercises with Indonesians there and in the region.

Following Santa Cruz, 51 US Senators – influenced by ETAN campaigning – wrote a letter to President George Bush condemning US military ties to Indonesia. Indonesian military officers and politicians had been publicly unapologetic about the massacre, referred to the killing as a matter of policy, and, because of the presence of foreign journalists, attempted to portray the tragedy as an episode of foreign meddling (Human Rights Watch 1991: 11-13). Indonesian Armed Forces Commander Try Sutrisno stated that, “delinquents like these must be shot. And we will shoot them” (Cox and Carey 1995: 52); he became the Indonesian vice-president two years later. The US government cancelled IMET and implemented restrictions on military-to-military engagement, beginning what John B. Haseman refers to as the up-and-down “roller coaster” period of military relations between Indonesia and the USA (Haseman 2002: 20).

Despite these successes, the United States Pacific Command maintained training programs with the Indonesian military under the Joint Combined Exchange and Training (JCET) program, going against the spirit of the ban (Inkiriwang 2020: 379-380).[19] When this information became public, ETAN activists also targeted JCET, garnering support in Congress to eventually ban that program as well. In this context, Congress passed the Leahy Amendment in 1997 which prohibited military assistance to countries that violate human rights. The legislation’s sponsor, Senator Patrick Leahy of Vermont, acknowledged that he and his staff were in frequent communication with ETAN and other human rights groups such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, and that they were an importance source for a “thorough and balanced understanding of the facts”. The United States later offered to provide Extended IMET (E-IMET) training that purported focused on human rights and democratisation to Indonesia, but it was rejected by President Suharto.

In 1993, in the context of the military assistance ban in place, the United States moved to block the sale of F5E fighter jets from Jordan to Indonesia. According to the terms of sale, the United States State Department must approve the resale of US military hardware from the original buyer to another. When American activists learned of the proposed sale, they exerted pressure to prevent the sale; it did not occur.

This move showed Indonesia that the US was willing to exert pressure over human rights concerns. In a meeting in Japan that same year, President Bill Clinton had brought up Timor-Leste to President Suharto. Suharto was taken aback, reacted defensively, and officials publicly mused about looking for military hardware from other countries. Indonesia subsequently purchased Hawk fighter jets from the UK, although the government there also faced domestic opposition from activists.[20]

In September of 1993, Senator Russel Feingold of Wisconsin proposed an amendment to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee that would place conditions on future arms sales to Indonesia on improvements in human rights in Timor-Leste. Although it was unanimously passed in committee, the amendment was attached to a bill that did not pass. Nevertheless, it reinforced the message to Jakarta that the issue of Timor-Leste and human rights was not going away. In Feingold’s home state of Wisconsin there was a particularly active ETAN group in the city of Madison, including members who played prominent roles in the organisation. Feingold and his staff were particularly receptive to their lobbying.

The next year, the US State Department banned small and light arms sales and riot control equipment to Indonesia, “the first occasion in which an across-the-board prohibition had been imposed on any type of weapons sale to Indonesia”.[21] Activists in ETAN and other groups had continued to press their representatives in Congress in support of these actions, and their efforts were having an effect. Indonesia soon realised that its major supplier of arms and training was no longer going to be supportive, and continued looking elsewhere rather than change the situation in Timor-Leste. These bans were effective not only because they prevented Indonesia from buying new weapons, but they also prevented the sale of spare parts to keep Indonesia’s existing warplanes in flying condition. Congress also acted to close the loophole that allowed E-IMET training of Indonesian forces, although it continued.

By this time, members of Congress were not only working to prevent the sale of arms and training to Indonesia, but some were openly advocating for an act of self-determination in Timor-Leste to determine the territory’s future. The awarding of the 1996 Nobel Peace Prize to Timorese José Ramos-Horta and Bishop Carlos Felipe Ximenes Belo increased pressure on Indonesia. In a letter to President Clinton prior to the 1996 APEC summit in Manila, Feingold along with 15 fellow Senators wrote to President Clinton and urged that the territory be allowed a United Nations-sanctioned referendum.[22] Clinton responded that he would consider it.[23]

Reflecting the “roller coaster” ride of the relationship, in 1996 the United States proposed selling F-16 fighter jets to Indonesia. Pakistan had paid for the jets, but the US, after passing restrictions on Pakistan over its purported nuclear arms, had blocked the transfer. Selling them to Indonesia along with spare parts, and then sending the proceeds to Pakistan as a refund was viewed as a way to solve the problem. Activists opposed the sale and lobbied, and some members of Congress objected to the sale. Timor-Leste was on people’s minds, but on July 27 Jakarta had cracked down on the opposition party Partai Demokrasi Indonesia (PDI), storming its offices (ISAI-AJI 1997). The sale was on again, off again for months. The American Ambassador to Indonesia, J. S. Roy, wrote to both President Clinton and President Suharto to urge the sale.[24]

In June of 1997, however, Indonesia backed out of the sale (as well as rejected the aforementioned E-IMET training). Although there is some speculation about how badly Indonesia actually wanted the planes, both President Suharto and Foreign Minister Ali Alatas stated that the fighters and training were not worth the political friction.[25] Contradicting the idea that they did not want them, Indonesia purchased Sukhoi Su30MK fighters the same year. Reports frequently cited the opposition by Senator Feingold, among others, as well as his praise of the cancellation of the deal (Rogers 1998).

Some have argued that the 1996 attack on the PDI headquarters was the start of Suharto’s downfall. Most, however, agree that the East Asian economic crisis of 1997-98, which hit Indonesia particularly hard, was the final nail in the coffin. International pressure on Indonesia was vividly captured in a photograph which ran in newspapers around the world, showing International Monetary Fund (IMF) Managing Director Michel Camdessus standing over Suharto with his arms folded as Suharto, seated, signs the paperwork agreeing to the IMF conditions for more aid. Mass demonstrations, some of which included military violence against university students and others, proved that the Suharto regime’s days were limited, and on May 21, 1998, he resigned. His successor, B. J. Habibie, assented to the referendum in Timor-Leste, acknowledging the political pressure from the US Congress including a House Resolution signed by 80 members (Fernandes 2011: 76).[26] In the aftermath of the referendum, Indonesian academic Bambang Cipto wrote the book Tekanan Amerika terhadap Indonesia: Kajian atas kebijakan luar negeri Clinton terhadap Indonesia (American pressure on Indonesia: A study of Clinton’s foreign policy toward Indonesia) outlining how these efforts affected Indonesian policy in the 1990s, specifically referring to ETAN and its close relationship to Senator Feingold (Cipto 2003).[27]

This brief list of ETAN’s campaigns is not meant to be exhaustive, but rather it focuses on the relationship between Indonesia and the United States. It ignores, for example, ETAN’s domestic campaigns against American enablers of the Suharto regime, or its support for other groups focused on other countries or issues. Nor did ETAN’s campaigns stop after the referendum. In 2000, for example, working with Timorese NGO Yayasan Hak, it filed a civil action against Johnny Lumintang, the Deputy Chief of the Indonesian military in 1999, under Torture Victim Protection Act and the Alien Tort Claims Act. Although the case was eventually dismissed over lack of jurisdiction, it showed how ETAN continued to exert pressure on Indonesia, as well as work with local organisations (Yang 2014: 596).

Conclusion

In the end, the East Timorese were able to determine their future – independence – through an act of self-determination.[28] Along with other organisations in the United States and around the world, ETAN was able to exert domestic pressure through framing, information dissemination, protest, and consciousness raising. American politicians, Indonesian leaders, and academics have acknowledged that this pressure played a role in the decision for a referendum.

In the context of all of the events that led to independence, including political activism in and the underground resistance in Timor-Leste, dissent in Indonesia and the upheaval that followed the financial crisis, the end of the Cold War, and international activism, it would be impossible to say that one was the determining factor. Thinking of all of the parts together, however, one must acknowledge that US pressure certainly played a role, and key to this pressure was the work of ETAN and groups like it. That small grassroots organisations such as ETAN could affect policy domestically to exert pressure on another country – the “boomerang effect” – means that questions about sovereignty and international relations must be reconsidered, taking advocacy networks and other non-governmental influencers into account.

Domestically, as a small organisation with limited funding, ETAN “punched above its weight” and exercised disproportional influence on US foreign policy toward Indonesia. Some have attributed ETAN’s success to being on the “right side of history,” but these statements were made after the referendum. Less than two years prior the referendum was not even on the table and pessimists or opponents spoke of self-determination as an impossible dream.

American sociologist Robert Dahl’s (1971) concept of Polyarchy is one way to understand ETAN’s effectiveness. Dahl wrote mostly about “regime creation” or what form a given state would take based on certain domestic factors, including the role of “political activists.” The book, at its heart, is about the importance of citizen participation to democracies, and the responsiveness or receptiveness of the government. Within Dahl there are some elements that can teach us about how ETAN worked and why it was successful.

Dahl wrote about politically active people having disproportionate influence and being able to frame a given topic: “a stronger case can be made for treating the beliefs of the politically most active and involved strata as an important explanatory factor… (r)ich and complex systems of belief are held only by small minorities” (Dahl 1971: 127).[29] The struggle over civil rights in the United States in the 1960s is an example, where a small group of people using various tactics including moral suasion to shift the debate and garner sympathy among, for example, northern whites who did not have much at stake. In this sense, a small number of dedicated ETAN activists similarly were able to frame the conversation regarding Timor-Leste and with a few key allies in Congress and the media were able to influence policy toward Indonesia.

This chapter has focused on one aspect of ETAN, its effect on foreign policy, and admittedly has done short shrift to some of the other elements of ETAN that would require more space. A longer history of ETAN could include more details about the formation of the organisation, its membership, local strategies, recruitment, and its post-referendum history. Another element that needs exploring is the anti-self-determination lobby in United States. This includes academics – Donald Weatherbee’s (in)famous 1981 article “The Indonesianization of East Timor” is a stunning example of someone who either chose to ignore the truth, was beholden to the Suharto regime, or was so willfully ignorant that he should not have written on the subject (Weatherbee 1981). His post-independence review of books about the referendum should have raised some eyebrows. But there were also organisations, such as USINDO, and corporations, such as Freeport McMoRan, that actively worked against ETAN’s goals.

No book-length account of ETAN’s activism and effects on policy has been written (yet), unlike David Webster’s work on the East Timor Alert Network in Canada (Webster 2020; see also: Torelli 2020). Yet given its role in the process of Timor-Leste achieving its independence, perhaps it is warranted.

References