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September 30, 2000
Washington Post
STANDING UP TO STATE AND CONGRESS
By Dana Priest
JAKARTA, Indonesia -- To land his gleaming white jet on the steamy
tarmac here last April, Adm. Dennis Cutler Blair, head of the U.S. Pacific
Command, had navigated a stormy obstacle course of objections by U.S.
officials.
Blair wanted to mend military relations with the world's fourth-largest
country. But U.S. Ambassador to Indonesia Robert S. Gelbard had opposed
the trip, as had some in the State Department and Congress. They believed
Blair's visit would undermine President Clinton's decision to cut off
military ties to Indonesia in outrage over its army's involvement in a
brutal militia rampage in East Timor. The goal was to pressure Indonesia's
army into adopting reforms demanded by the country's first democratically
elected president in 31 years.
Blair convinced the National Security Council to let him go over
Gelbard's objections. It was a diplomatic triumph that underscored the
growing foreign policy clout of the regional commanders-in-chief (CINCs),
the military leaders who oversee global Defense Department operations.
The CINCs command so much respect in their theaters and in Washington
that they often shape foreign relations strategy. But their philosophies
on building alliances abroad, developed over long military careers,
sometimes clash with civilian views. The most pronounced differences
involve how to treat foreign militaries that commit human rights abuses.
The administration and Congress routinely have pressured for change by
conditioning or cutting off arms sales and training, a tactic applied to
Guatemala, Chile, Colombia, Pakistan, Nigeria and Turkey. But the CINCs
and the Pentagon nearly always advocate using continued engagement to
induce change.
So it is in Indonesia.
Blair, 53, opposed abandoning a long relationship with Indonesia's
armed forces just as the country struggles with democracy. He wanted the
United States to use its military ties to maintain leverage and worried
that the Indonesian armed forces could become so alienated that they would
sever relations.
His plan to become the first high-ranking U.S. officer to visit
Indonesia since the sanctions were imposed put him in conflict with
Gelbard. The envoy considered the visit premature and took the unusual
step of cabling his opposition to the State Department. The tension
between the two was palpable as Blair's jet touched down April 2. As a hot
wind blew across the tarmac, Gelbard greeted Blair with a stilted
handshake. They walked to the airport's VIP lounge, then sat in near
silence as the admiral's entourage was processed.
The events over the next few days tested Blair's diplomacy. His first
challenge was to win the support of Gelbard, a tough diplomatic veteran
who has worked closely with the U.S. military in the Balkans and Latin
America.
Forging Alliances
The view from Blair's conference room at Pacific Command headquarters
in Hawaii: an American flag waving in a light breeze, the sky deep blue
behind the palms.
From here, Blair watches over a command that covers 43 countries, 60
percent of the world's population and four of its largest armies: China,
India, North and South Korea.
While Washington tends to focus on possible confrontations, Blair says
his theater is safer now than ever.
"When I look at the Asia Pacific region, I don't see any ideological or
geographical or ethnic big causes of a future conflict," said Blair,
widely seen as a contender for chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
"We're just not lined up for . . . a big war . . . the hot spots are
isolated."
Blair is promoting military alliances or "security communities," as he
calls them, within his region. He wants countries to join in multinational
military exercises and to forge disarmament policies and security pacts
among themselves.
This notion was initially opposed by the departments of Defense and
State, but Blair was undeterred. When his staff briefed him last year on
Washington's negative reaction, he crisply replied, "Got it." Then he
steamed ahead.
The concept is now filtering into U.S. policy. Blair acknowledges that
regional alliances could dilute the power in Asia of both the United
States and China, but in a "positive way... both the United States and
Chinese power would be constrained by this arrangement and I think that
would be good for this region... It's better than trying to pretend we're
in 19th-century Britain." Indonesia must be part of any regional approach,
said Blair, a wiry and soft-spoken man. Indonesia, always a U.S. ally in
regional forums, was headed toward a collapse that could destabilize the
entire region.
Under the dictatorial regime of then-President Suharto, Congress had
funded a generous program to train Indonesia's military, despite the fact
that Suharto's security forces routinely jailed, tortured and killed
thousands of opposition activists. In East Timor, a former Portuguese
colony Indonesia invaded in 1975, the army and its militia supporters had
killed 200,000 East Timorese, a third of the population.
Outrage over the violence prompted Congress in 1992 to cut funding for
the International Military Education and Training (IMET) programs, but the
Pentagon worked around Congress's restrictions. Blair and others in the
military viewed Indonesia's human rights abuses more as a reflection of
the military's financial straits and lack of discipline than a concerted
effort to intimidate its citizenry.
Despite the congressional ban, U.S. Special Operation Forces trained
Indonesia's elite and savage special forces through the Joint Combined
Exchange Training (JCET) program, which taught urban warfare, sniper
tactics and crowd control.
When Suharto was forced to resign in May 1998 and Gen. Wiranto took
over the armed forces, the Pentagon saw Wiranto as a reformer and wanted
to help him, even as evidence accumulated that his army was supporting
violent anti-independence militias in East Timor.
From a windowless concrete building near Blair's Pacific Command
headquarters, seven intelligence analysts at the "Joint Intelligence
Center," the world's largest military intelligence center, had tracked the
movements of Indonesian and militia forces since May 1998. They watched as
East Timor refugees were herded into camps in an effort to intimidate and
control pro-independence peasants. Analysts and United Nations monitors
saw the violence bubbling into a wholesale rampage.
But at no point, Blair acknowledges, did he or his subordinates reach
out to the Indonesian contacts trained through IMET or JCET to try to stop
the brewing crisis. In fact, later, U.S. officials were chagrined to learn
that five of the 15 Indonesian military officers named by the country's
human rights commission as allegedly involved in "crimes against humanity"
in East Timor were former IMET students.
"It is fairly rare that the personal relations made through an IMET
course can come into play in resolving a future crisis," Blair said in an
interview en route to East Timor.
On April 8, the National Security Council dispatched Blair to meet with
Wiranto and warn him to take action to stop the violence. Though the
United States had no proof that Wiranto had ordered the army's
involvement, Blair hoped that he could convince Wiranto to step in more
aggressively.
Blair took a cordial approach. He told Wiranto that he "looks forward
to the time Indonesia will resume its proper role as a leader in the
region," according to U.S. officials who reviewed a cable written about
the trip. He invited Wiranto to a seminar in Hawaii and promised to train
troops in crowd control. Blair also said he would work to reinstate the
IMET program and was hopeful Congress would back it. Wiranto maintained
that the military was being "unfairly blamed" for supporting
anti-independence militias. Then, over the next week, Blair learned of a
yet another gruesome militia massacre that left 57 dead at an East Timor
church in Liquica. Blair complained to Wiranto, but the general said his
army was not involved.
In fact, 13 militia groups had been organized and armed by Indonesian
army Gen. Zacky Anwar, according to U.N. officials and a senior Indonesia
intelligence officer.
After the island voted overwhelmingly on Aug. 30 to be independent from
Indonesia, Blair said he thought, "touchdown!" and the problems would be
over. His entourage headed for Indonesia to congratulate Wiranto on a
smooth referendum.
But the militias reacted to the vote by unleashing a scorched earth
campaign, killing thousands of peasants. The National Security Council
asked Blair to take a different message to Wiranto, that the United States
was severing all military ties.
Blair and his aide de camp, Maj. Joe Diana, rode alone in a Volvo
limousine to Wiranto's headquarters. Upon arriving, they found a table set
with 16 teacups to welcome the U.S. entourage.
"So," one of Wiranto's aides asked, "where is everyone else?"
Blair asked to be alone with Wiranto, then informed him that American
patience had run out. He told Wiranto he must allow U.N. peacekeeping
troops onto the island and that the United States was severing military
relations, according to people familiar with Blair's reports of the
conversation.
Divided Opinion
Blair and other U.S. military officials took a forgiving view of the
violence surrounding the referendum in East Timor. Given the country's
history, they argued, it could have been worse. "What they did was
absolutely remarkable," said one top Pentagon general. But human rights
activists and Indonesia watchers on Capitol Hill argued that the United
Nations and the United States had ignored the brewing violence, then
reacted too slowly to the rampage.
Sen. Patrick J. Leahy (D-Vt.) won passage of an amendment that demanded
concrete action by the Indonesians before military ties would be resumed.
The legislation called on the Indonesians to prosecute army and militia
wrongdoers, allow East Timor refugees to return home, prevent militia
incursions from West Timor and cooperate with U.N. peacekeepers.
"For as long as I have been in the Senate, the Pentagon has said that
U.S. engagement would professionalize the Indonesian army," Leahy said.
"That has been disproved time and time again, and the final straw was the
debacle in East Timor."
Leahy's amendment did not spell out the criteria for judging
Indonesia's compliance. It left that determination up to the
administration after consultations with Congress.
Blair began pushing to go to Indonesia. The NSC's deputies
committee--comprised of deputies from the NSC, the State and Defense
departments, the CIA and the Joint Staff--debated his trip in several
meetings. Opinion was divided between the military and civilian agencies.
Defense Secretary William S. Cohen's top civilian staff and the Joint
Staff strongly favored the trip, arguing that East Timor was strategically
insignificant. The State Department and embassy staff argued that a visit
was premature, since none of Leahy's conditions had been met.
While the deputies debated, Gelbard cabled his objections to the State
Department, citing a dramatic increase in militia violence. He wrote that
Indonesia's armed forces wouldn't let him fly his C-12 around the
archipelago, preventing him from examining other troubled provinces. He
noted that Indonesia's civilian defense minister had publicly denounced
U.S. meddling and had refused to meet with him.
"We cannot be in a position where we seem more eager than they are," he
explained later, in an interview in Jakarta.
The deputies committee ultimately sided with Blair but required him to
clarify the U.S. conditions for resumption of ties. Uncertain Footing
The day before Blair left for Jakarta, two lieutenant colonels and a
couple of full colonels huddled in his Honolulu office to review a report
from the U.S. defense attache in Indonesia, the chief military analyst on
the ground.
The dispatch recapped some negative remarks President Abdurrahman Wahid
had made about military cooperation with the United States. One of Blair's
colonels told him that the attache "thinks that, in the long run, things
are going to improve." But the attache recommended that Blair's trip be
postponed.
Blair was unfazed. "I don't think an ambiguous speech by President
Wahid should stop this. . . . Barring some huge cataclysmic event, we'll
press forward," he said.
Blair's staff cautioned that Washington still might nix the trip by the
time Blair arrived in Singapore, his first stop.
Blair was more concerned about ambiguities in the U.S. position. He
still did not understand how the Indonesians would be judged on their
compliance with Leahy's conditions. "What's the finish line?" he asked the
staff.
No one really knew. The staff queried the Joint Staff in Washington.
There was an answer when Blair reached Singapore. Understanding the Rules.
On the Shangri La Hotel's 25th floor, overlooking Singapore, Blair
digested the Joint Staff's vague response.
"We'll-know-it-when-we-see-it," it implied.
Blair was ready to get tough; he felt the Indonesians had been dragging
their feet.
He was even less certain about what to expect from Gelbard. The
ambassador had revised Blair's Jakarta schedule, which the admiral's staff
suspiciously regarded as an effort to rein him in. Gelbard planned to go
with Blair to meetings with military officials, but he had ruled out a
CINC visit with the civilian minister of defense, who had riled Gelbard.
"This is going to be a strange visit," said Blair, shaking his head.
On a positive note, Gelbard had invited Blair to stay at his residence.
Time together removed from the spotlight might give them time to iron out
their differences.
With his habitually rumpled polo shirt and street-fighter manner,
Gelbard impressed Blair with his insider's knowledge of Indonesia. Their
first meeting reminded him that Gelbard's gruffness was nothing
personal--just his personality.
Gelbard found Blair more realistic about his mission than the
ambassador expected, given the Pentagon's aggressiveness in pushing his
trip. He realized too that Blair understood he had to be tough on the
Indonesians or his wishes for a renewed relationship might be rejected
altogether.
Getting Tough
Even at dawn, Jakarta's downtown streets teem with bumper-to-bumper
cars, rusted taxis and food carts. Blair's car worked its way through the
tangle, turning onto a half-mile manicured driveway surrounded by palms
and a golf course. This was the headquarters of Cilantrap, Indonesia's
Pentagon.
Blair and Gelbard met with the deputy of the Indonesian armed forces,
the air force chief of staff and, finally, the head of the navy. Blair
asked about the military's reform plans, but the answers were cautious.
Change takes time, they said.
As for East Timor, "it's behind us," another general told Blair
dismissively.
Blair was quick to disagree. He pressed the U.S. case, that the
military had not responded to the East Timor atrocities. "General, the
army has behaved very unprofessionally and committed reprehensible acts .
. . you have to have accountability trials," Blair insisted, according to
a witness.
Gelbard was surprised by Blair's strong stance. "They were furious at
what he said," Gelbard said. "They aren't used to a government speaking in
one voice. Now, all of the sudden here was Admiral Blair. He was
terrific."
Blair gave the same message to three high-ranking officers at a dinner
at Gelbard's residence. Blair pushed. The Indonesians warned. The U.S.
attitude "is good in a sense that we need wake-up calls," said Lt. Gen.
Agus Widjoyo, a reformer and the army's chief of territorial affairs. "But
don't push too hard because it could backfire."
Before Blair left Jakarta, he and Gelbard decided to prepare a joint
cable to Washington outlining a step-by-step approach to reengaging
Indonesia's military. It called for working with the air force, navy and
marines, but not with the powerful army, until it had made more progress.
They also agreed to cut out the middlemen and talk to each other
directly, even though their discussions sometimes turn into shouting
matches.
Communication would be important as Indonesian troops became even more
deeply involved in provincial violence throughout the archipelago.
Inducement to Reform
On May 17 the deputies committee approved Blair and Gelbard's phased
approach to military reengagement and found there had been overall
progress on democratic reform.
With that, Indonesia became eligible for Phase One engagements:
high-level visits, conferences, ship visits, and small Navy and Air Force
exchanges.
"It's good to give them an inducement to reform," said James Steinberg,
then the deputy national security adviser. But, he added, "it will
probably be several years before this is a thoroughly reformed
institution."
But by summer's end, the entire plan was again put on hold after an
upswing in Indonesian army-supported violence throughout the provinces.
In mid-August, the NSC decided to allow the sale of C-130 spare parts
and sent a senior Marine general to visit. Blair and Gelbard say they
believe the central military in Jakarta is losing its control over
outlying regions. Militia violence in East and West Timor has increased
and in early September military-supported militia members savagely killed
three U.N. relief workers.
Since then, the U.S. government and United Nations have increased
pressure on the military to disband and disarm the militias and hold
accountability trials. The army appears to be in chaos. Wahid replaced his
civilian defense minister with an academic who has no sway over the
powerful institution. "Who is this guy?" a leading Indonesia official
called to ask Gelbard recently.
Gelbard and Blair still hold opposite views of the Indonesia army's
intentions.
Gelbard believes "we have continued to see virtually zero progress. In
fact, they've gone backwards."
Blair thinks the transgressions are the byproduct of an untrained,
underpaid military. "The pace of reform . . . is slower than we would
like," he said. "But I am constantly reminded what a long distance [the
army] has come."
They continue to shout at each other over the telephone. But they
prefer not to think of these disputes as power struggles. They call their
arguments "tactical disagreements."
see also
U.S.-Indonesia Military
Assistance

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