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TIMOR COVER      INTRODUCTION      PHOTO ESSAY

FIELD REPORT ON EAST TIMOR TO INDONESIAN FACT FINDING MISSION TEAM LEADER,  28 JAN - 4 FEB, 1999
 

Food Security in East Timor:
 A Matter of Freedom From Oppression

The first sentence spoken to us by our first interviewee was repeated to us several times by each subsequent interviewee over the entire course of our effort in Timor: The political situation directly affects food security.  One simply could not discuss food production without engaging in a discussion about the presence of the military and the effects that presence had on the villager’s ability to produce adequate food.  The violence and oppression told to us over the course of each interview drew a picture of systematic and sustained destruction of Timorese self-reliance.  In East Timor, then, food security is an issue of re-building an agricultural production system that over the course of the last two decades has been murdered, raped, burned, tortured, disenfranchised, divided, exiled, neglected and otherwise kept from taking root.

For the Timorese who reside on the Northern areas of the Island, poor rainfalls of the past several years have destroyed farmers’ already small stock of seed and reduced families to eating much less than is nutritionally adequate.  Villagers and other persons working with and among the villagers, however, say the drought has only made a naturally poor situation worse and that having coped with all the oppressive taunts and attacks of the Indonesian military for the last couple of decades have hardened them into being able to cope with disease, hunger and death.  When we visited one family who, in my opinion was one of the poorest families I have seen in my 4 years in Southeast Asia, and asked how they were they immediately answered ‘Oh, doing alright.’  The human spirit protects its own.  But who protects the human spirit?

Indonesia’s Own Ton Ton Macoute...

Destruction of Agriculture’s People
I was given a set of photos from the tortures and murders of villagers near Suai in the Kovalima district approximately 90 km Southeast of Dili.  In these photos two men and one woman lay dead in a cornfield.  They are burned, shot through the knees, stabbed in the side and their throats slit. A woman - it remains unclear whether it is the woman in the picture I have in my possession or victim at another site - who was pregnant at the time, had her fetus cut out of her and discarded some ways down from the site.  Whether she or any of the other victims were alive to witness such a macabre expression of lack of purpose we will probably never know.

The cornstalks in the immediate vicinity of the atrocity are beaten down to the ground. The surrounding stalks, seemingly standing vigil, surely would be speechless were they not voiceless.  It is a picture that captures the fall of agriculture with the fall of the people.

This type of scene has been the controller of the people since Indonesia’s violent annexation of East Timor.  It is the Bogey Man that keeps people in their homes or constantly in flight.  It is this kind of fear that disrupts life.  It is this kind of fear that has cut asunder the social and psychological benefits of their once daily routine of agriculture.  The 800,000 people of Timor are not only refugees from the military’s physically oppressive actions; they are victims of livelihood deprivation.  Social psychologist M. Jahoda had this to say on the effects of being denied the daily activities of work:
 

There are latent consequences of employment as a social institution which meet human needs of an enduring kind.  First of all is the fact that employment imposes a time structure on the working day.  Secondly, employment implies regularly shared experiences and contacts with people outside the family.  Thirdly, employment links an individual to goals and purposes which transcend his own.  Fourthly, employment defines aspects of status and identity.  Finally, employment enforces activity.*


He goes on to say that these consequences "...help us to understand the motivation behind work beyond earning a living...even when conditions are bad; and by the same token, to understand why unemployment is psychologically destructive...".  Finally, to round the argument about people then simply taking up other activities to replace such loss of regular daily activity, that is; "...to create their own time structures and social contacts and exercising their skills as best they can...", Jahoda closes by saying "[T]he psychological input required to do so on a regular basis, entirely under one’s own steam, is colossal."

This provides tremendous insight into why many people in Southeast Asia put themselves into the situation of working in the huge metropolitan centres even if the conditions are horrible in the extreme.  For the Timorese who lost not only their livelihood but also the basis of their culture, Dr. Jahoda’s reflection on the matter certainly helps the observer appreciate just what it takes to see oneself through the oppression of a military occupation.  The Timorese people have been psychologically oppressed through, among other horrific actions, the systematic denial of access to their agriculture; that is to say denial of access to their livelihood and culture.
 

Destruction of the Agricultural System
For the Timorese, the last 23 years has been a period of fight and flight.  The military - largely the Indonesian military - has been identified as the culprit for extreme oppression of family and community.  Indonesia’s paranoia of villagers interacting with the Timorese resistance forces led them to bar farmers from working their land, lest those farmers find ways of colluding with the resistance.  Great tracts of forest were cut and hauled off by the military or other Indonesian parties - partly for profit, partly to eliminate hiding/meeting places and ambush locations for the various resistance forces.  Families within and between communities were denied the basic human necessity of social interaction because of the military’s fear of collusion with the resistance.

This has had the effect of 23 years of forced neglect of agricultural areas, the loss of indigenous knowledge on edible foragable plant species - if not the loss of the species itself - and the lack of a general agricultural development process that occurs gradually and progressively through the social interactions of the farmers in a community.  In its stead these people were bottle-fed high-yield crop variety (HYVs) packages and novel technologies requiring tremendous financial resources for its maintenance; this was under the Indonesian government’s Repelitas (4-year development plans) that embraced the green revolution paradigm.  Unfortunately those high yield varieties demand a great deal of water, can withstand but little competition for nutrients from weeds and other plants, and are more susceptible to insect and disease attacks as they lack the fine tuning to the local [micro-]habitat that the indigenous varieties held for the Timorese as a result of hundreds of years of farmer selection as well as natural selection.

What the farmer now has is the imbalance of HYVs, the disappearance of the forest (a source of foraging), the reduction of local varieties, a vastly changed and thereby unpredictable local meteorology, a bad and costly dependence on herbicides and insecticides (reduced self-reliance) and an altered consumption pattern of water that exceeded the region’s supply.

...Left Food Production Turned Base over Apex

Huge areas of reasonably arable land have been overtaken with very densely growing woody weeds 6-7 feet in height.  This is a result of the years of forced neglect.  To clear these weeds now is apparently a near impossibility without the use of mechanical aid or huge amounts of able bodied labour.  Even if these weeds could be cleared to allow expansion of local agriculture, the resulting massive weed biomass would present the smallholder farmer with new problems.

The loss of huge swatches of forest cover has resulted in dry, very hard soils.  To expand agriculture into these areas - if by odd chance they have not been consumed by the woody weeds - would require great amounts of very able-bodied labour or tractors to be able to prepare a seedbed in time for the rains.

Much of Northern East Timor is barren land.  Only a thin veneer of soil over very stoney subsoil (if a subsoil is present at all) covers much of the rolling hill to steeply sloping landscape that typifies the Northern flank of the island.  It is useful only for grazing and at that only barely so.

Witnessed in the Los Palos area of Eastern East Timor, farmers are either too scared or are simply denied expanding their agricultural area beyond their small family garden.  The soil is a very heavy clay soil but promises seemingly high yields.  Manually working the soil would require a healthy and strong family.  A nearby lake has water 12 months a year.  In fact it has so much available water that it is a target for a hydro-electric generating station.  Yet this food production potential has been denied access.

In Bacau area reasonably large areas of land are being farmed but production suffers from poorly fertile soils and lack of water.  Expansion also is hindered by the aforementioned weed infestation.  Under the Portugese there was approximately 80,000 ha of rice planted.  Now, although the government still claims approximately 80,000ha of rice planted, the reality sits at somewhere between 20-30,000 with the demand (before the droughts) being satiated with rice from other parts of Indonesia.

Corn farmers (the highlanders) have fled to the lowlands, the coastal areas, taken refuge in ‘safe areas’ or taken up labour in the cities.  Rice farmers (the lowlanders) have followed suit.  So in the lowlands we have corn farmers now competing with rice farmers for land and other very sparse resources or the corn farmers are taking on a whole new ball game of planting rice.  We also have some corn and rice farmers trying to eke out a living sea-fishing, although they generally lack the tools and skills to make a successful go of it.  Finally, and worst of all, we have a great many people who were once producers who are now consumers.  This latter double barrel gun both reduces net yield while simultaneously increases net demand.

Labour is largely unavailable.  Malnutrition, the prevalence of malaria and tuberculosis, as well as the flight or murder of pockets of local populations has greatly reduced the family labour pool.  The division of communities that once helped one another has further reduced the general labour availability at the community level.  Draft animals - buffaloes - have been killed in an outright tactical strategy or have been taken for food by the military or paramilitary on either side of the conflict.  What tasks were once left to the buffalo have often been assumed by what remains of the family labour pool.

Finally, there was a seemingly defeatist attitude in at least the Baucau area villages.  As regards the weed problem (not just the inundation of those dense woody weeds generally at large but even the far less imposing grassy and broadleaf weeds amongst the crops) there was a noticeable lack of attention to controlling them by hand.  This can readily be ascribed to the years of dependence on insecticides and herbicides which has left the farmers seemingly unable to recognize the potential in their own hands to control farm pests.  The inability to purchase herbicides owing to the inflation brought on by the economic crisis as well as the reduced yields resulting from consecutive years of drought has seemingly left them thinking there is no alternative but to to endure.  Such an attitude can also be justifiably ascribed to the military’s incessant agricultural offensive leaving the farming population feeling resistance - be it to oppression or to pests in the field - is futile.

Food Aid in Timor Timur
We saw very little evidence of food aid being distributed in Timor.  Some Catholic organizations operating in
Timor reported that they had access to small amounts of food aid that they were distributing in various community food-for-work (FFW) campaigns but not in line with WFP efforts.  Care was overseeing actual WFP FFW programs with money from USAID.  They were operating in 12 of 13 districts and had a quota of 50kg/household.  CARE’s program ends in June this year.

Unicef in Timor took on the responsibility of distributing blended food targetting infants aged 8-12 months and mothers.  They are acting as a conduit for such food aid from donor to the Department of Health which can channel the food to local communities through their numerous clinics and other community service sites.  Unicef brings the food aid to district warehouses for transfer to Department of Health but Unicef has not received any records of distribution. Yayasan HAK, a Human Rights Abuses center in Dili has reported that there has been infant food stolen for sale and profit by government officials.  Unicef is now trying to get Bishop Belo to assist in engaging locally operating NGOs for distribution.

A discussion with a Catholic polyclinic located in Venilale (about 150km from the Unicef office in Dili) left us with the impression that there was only little food aid reaching the surrounding villages.  The clinic itself reportedly did receive some food aid from the government.  This little clinic, however, had 600 visitors last month.  That far exceeds the very limited capacity of human and physical resources at the clinic’s disposal.  Also - these 600 are only a single leaf fallen from what must be a huge tree.  The clinic is just about the last resort of the desperately ill (government hospitals being the last).  It is held by the people that to go to a hospital is to recognize your immiment end.  Those who feel they still have hope seek help from traditional sources (usually healers or midwives, etc) or rest at home trying to convalesce.  The clinic is the second-last resort before admitting defeat.  This second last resort has seen a 30 year old woman weighing a mere 29 kg.  It has seen 3 children last February (1998) three years of age and only 3.5 kgs.  This is some of the worst cases, agreed, but just how many more are not coming to the clinic because they have to walk up to 2 hours?  How many are ‘convalescing’ at home?

These Sisters also reported that there is a good chance the very sick won’t get as much food as could be given them since the recipient would not be able to tap the energy of the food in working the fields.  Villagers are aware that they need to tap food energy for food production.  This puts the ill, the pregnant or recently post-natal women and the very young at a distinct nutritional disadvantage.

Closing Notes
In a subsequent talk back in Jakarta with a World Bank representative, I was told that Indonesian rice farmers (Timorese included) were much better off this year as rice prices were up 300%.  I tried to ask him if this 300% made any kind of difference when there was such a shortage of rice that nothing remained to be sold - 300% increase of zero sales was still zero.  It did not compute with him.  I asked him if he had any idea of how many farmers such an increase would benefit.  He only kept repeating that the rice farmer’s produce was 300% more valuable (that’s 300% more valuable) and that could only leave the farmer but better off.  The World Bank has no grasp of the issues at play in Timorese food security - well either that or, worse yet, they have chosen to ignore the factors and continue to support the destruction.  Either way, the World Bank is yet again a persistant part of the problem.

We were lucky to be there in the rainy season when everything was green and lush.  The farmers were lucky there was even a rainy season - even though many were caught unprepared at the earlier than usual commencement of the season.  The last few years have rained only enough to make the farmers think the rains had come for good.  They planted their seedstock only to have the rains disappear and their seedstock forfeited to dried-again soil.  This little game played itself out three times last season!  The amount of green and the pleasant weather experienced on this mission could easily have left the visitor with the impression that all is looking well.  But for the greater part of Timor there is only one brief growing season - from late November to early March. Outside of that we were told it becomes desert - tremendously hot and dry and the whole vista turns to brown and black.

There is a food problem in Timor.   There is no doubt about that nor can there be any argument to the contrary.  Whatever food aid did ultimately reach the needy was not enough. The acuteness of the food shortage is drought related.  The chronic shortage has its roots in the political situation. Timorese need not face chronic food shortages.  The focus of any lasting solution must be the production system at the family and community levels.  It will have to consider the real productivity of the shallow, stoney soils of the north and the rich volcanic soils of the south of the Island.  It will have to consider improved internal distribution of produce.  It will have to consider the malnourished, weakened state of Timor’s agricultural human resources. It will have to consider The Have’s versus The Have Not’s - If it becomes a case of pro-integration vs pro-independence Timorese then the chronic food shortage may never be overcome through an improved internal production system.  Timor would then be largely dependent on buying Indonesia’s agricultural production ... coincidentally or foreshadowingly enough, Indonesia just recently said it would be 'happy' helping Timor gain access to the trade-focussed ASEAN grouping ... Indonesian farmers would be happy indeed to have the Timorese market in their back pocket!

*Taken from "Shooting the Hippo: Death by Defecit and Other Canadian Myths" by Linda McQuaig, 1995, Penguin Books, Toronto.

JD Comtois
March, 1999