The world's newest country has become the U.N.'s pet project: an experiment in "nation-building." With its resilient political culture, East Timor is unusually well suited to the project. But the U.N. is finding that governing is harder than separating warring parties -- especially when the country has been razed to the ground. And popular resentment is mounting. Rebuilding East Timor physically will be the easy part. Creating a democracy from scratch will be far more difficult.
James Traub is a contributing writer for The New York Times Magazine and is currently working on a documentary about the United Nations.
TEST CASE
U.N. officials in Kosovo used to refer to the bombed-out territory they administered as "the empty shell." Then many of them were moved to East Timor, the U.N.'s latest hardship case, where they discovered the true meaning of emptiness. East Timor lacks the most basic necessities: not just doctors, dentists, accountants, lawyers, and police, but also tables, chairs, pots, and pans. Even in Dili, the capital, stop signs, traffic signals, and streetlights are nowhere to be found. It would not be far from the truth to say that East Timor has no economy. Projected government revenue for 2000 is $16 million, and most of that will come from duties on the liquor, cigarettes, cars, and other commodities consumed by foreign U.N. officials, journalists, and the employees of nongovernmental organizations.
Yet today this impoverished island is the laboratory for an experiment in what is known at the United Nations as "nation-building." The U.N. Transitional Administration for East Timor (UNTAEt) is not just helping the new country's government -- it is that government. UNTAET issues postage and UNTAET signs treaties. At the airport in Dili, a Timorese in a U.N. uniform puts an "UNTAET" stamp in each passport. In a fine if unintended piece of symbolism, the U.N. now occupies the "Governor's House," a lovely, colonnaded structure facing the ocean that served as the headquarters for both the Portuguese and then the Indonesian colonial administrations. Sergio Vieira de Mello, a Brazilian U.N. official who functions as the "transitional administrator," works from the same second-floor office that once housed the Indonesian governor.
The U.N. plays a similar role in Kosovo, and in the last decade it has taken on many national responsibilities in Namibia, Cambodia, Mozambique, and Eastern Slavonia. But until East Timor, the U.N. had never taken over the administration of a country with no preexisting institutions whatsoever. Nor has the organization ever enjoyed the kind of free hand it exercises in East Timor. Both the political elite and the militias that carried out its will have fled. And the Security Council resolution that established UNTAET has effectively granted it absolute power, although it makes clear that the rationale for that power is to give birth to a freestanding and democratic Timorese state.
This is a premium article
You must be a Foreign Affairs subscriber to continue reading. If you are already a print subscriber, click here to activate your online access.
Log In
Buy PDF
Buy a premium PDF reprint of this article.Related
The intervention in Somalia was not an abject failure; an estimated 100,000 lives were saved. But its mismanagement should be an object lesson for peacekeepers in Bosnia and on other such missions. No large intervention, military or humanitarian, can remain neutral or assuredly brief in a strife-torn failed state. Nation-building, the rebuilding of a state's basic civil institutions, is required in fashioning a self-sustaining body politic out of anarchy. In the future, the United States, the United Nations, and other intervenors should be able to declare a state "bankrupt" and go in to restore civic order and foster reconciliation.
Three new studies of the international community's attempts at postwar state reconstruction in the 1990s offer valuable lessons about how best to handle the job, but they also overgeneralize and miss critical differences among their cases.
Did East Timor's departure start the dominoes tumbling? Will this vast, multiethnic archipelago fall apart? Not likely. A hard look at Indonesia's main candidates for secession reveals that they have little in common with East Timor and even less with each other. The provinces remain Jakarta's to lose. If the capital plays its cards right, curbs the army's abuses, and accommodates legitimate local goals, the center will indeed hold.
