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Death invades a church

Source
International Herald Tribune - September 11, 1999

Kupang, West Timor – The Reverend Dewanto was the first to die, said Sister Mary Barudero. The militiamen had lined up outside the old wooden church filled with refugees in the East Timorese town of Suai on Monday afternoon, and the young Indonesian priest stepped out dressed in his clerical robes to meet the trouble.

A burst of gunfire cut him down. The Reverend Francisco followed. The blood soaked his white robes. The militiamen waited for the senior parish priest, the Reverend Hilario. When he did not emerge, they kicked down the door to his study and sprayed him with automatic fire.

One of the nuns watched from the window of her nearby house at the massacre that followed, said Sister Barudero. The militiamen entered the church filled with refugees, and began firing long bursts from their weapons. Then they threw hand grenades into the huddled victims. One, two, three grenades. As they left, blood flowed down the doorstep.

Inside, there had been only young children and women, babies at their mothers' breasts, and pregnant women, she said. The men had fled days earlier.

"They went to the church because that's where they felt safe," said the nun, 64, vainly fighting her tears. "They felt being near the priests was protection."

Her account of the massacre, which was confirmed Thursday by the Vatican, is one of the first graphic descriptions of the violence that has wracked East Timor at the hands of Indonesian military-backed militiamen who oppose independence for the province.

Among the first victims have been the Roman Catholic clergy, seen by the militia as having supported independence for East Timor. The nun, a nurse, agreed to talk because, she said, "I have lived my life. I am not afraid to die."

Other refugees still feel the militia's reach in the supposed safety of West Timor, and have been warned not to talk to reporters. Sister Barudero's colleague, who watched the massacre, has fled to Australia but still is afraid to be identified, she said.

The fears of those in West Timor are not exaggerated. The militiamen who have brought destruction to East Timor have taken up control of the 84,000 refugees now in camps in West Timor, and move around freely in the West Timor capital of Kupang. Some are armed; some seem intent on intimidating foreigners and refugees. Foreigners have not been allowed in the camps.

At a West Timor refugee camp in Atambua, on the border with East Timor, a man identified as a supporter of independence was killed Wednesday, apparently by militiamen.

An official of the Catholic Relief Services, who just returned from Atambua, provided some confirmation of reports that pro-Independence refugees had been forcibly removed from East Timor.

"If you ask the refugees once, they say they left because it was unsafe, and they had to leave their houses," said William Openg, an Indonesian relief worker for the Catholic services. "But if you ask again, they will tell you that the soldiers terrorized them and made them come."

Although many in the refugee camps are said to be opponents of independence, those who support the outcome of the ballot may not acknowledge it.

"They are afraid to show their face," said Agapitus Prasetya, a Unicef worker who has been in the refugee camps. "It could cost them their lives. The militias are everywhere."

Anti-foreigner passions have been whipped up by the militias, and even Indonesian staff members distributing food to the refugees strip the Unicef signs off their cars, he said.

"The militias are killing people, and the people are threatened here in West Timor," said a Catholic clergyman who fled from Dili only to find militiamen in control of refugee camps in West Timor. "Where is the law and order in Indonesia? The militias, the military and the police are above the law."

He and several other clergy members described their flight from East Timor on the condition that their names not be used. They said they feared consequences from the Indonesian military and Timorese militias. One sister who lived in Dili said the gunfire began about three hours after the ballot result approving independence was announced last Saturday.

"It was really frightening. We couldn't go out of the house," she said. "We could see a lot of fires. It looked like they would use diesel gas, because the fires would be big black balls, and then you could see white smoke from houses. That was everywhere."

On Monday, she and other nuns decided it was too dangerous, and left in an old truck in a convoy escorted by police. As they passed through Dili, she saw a scene of fires and lawlessness, she said.

"It was remarkable," she said. "There was shooting going on, and people were running for their lives. But others were looting the stores, very calmly, as though they were so relaxed." She said she saw some looters loading goods into military trucks.

In one section, "all the stores were razed," she said. "I saw a lot of military, and of course, the militias. Some people were ransacking, and some people were looting. The whole place was in ruins, except for the government buildings. And there were a lot of people moving out, because their houses were burning."

Another member of the clergy said that the gunfire intensified in the days and nights after the referendum results. "God, it was frightening," he said. "There were motorcycles running all over, bringing military and militias. You could hear the big guns of the military going on."

On Tuesday, the water, electricity and telephone lines were cut in his section of Dili, and he decided to leave, said the clergyman. He passed many burned houses, he said. "It seemed the pro-independence houses were targeted. But the referendum was approved four-to-one, so they didn't have to go very far."

"I never saw any instance of refugees being forced by gunpoint," said a priest. "Our people did not want to leave. But they were told if they stayed, the houses would be burned and they might be killed. They were forced out by fear."

The militias were particularly strong in the western areas of East Timor, where Sister Barudero and four other nuns ran a hospital in Suai, and where Roman Catholic priests ran the church where the massacre occurred. Sister Barudero said she had not intended to leave, even after the men fled, even after more victims of the rising violence came to the hospital, even after she and her nuns had to dig a grave for a victim on the grounds of the hospital. The victim's family was too afraid to claim him, she said. But after the massacre, "There was no one left to help. They had all left or been killed.

"And I knew, if we stayed, we could be killed," she said. "I am old. I'm ready to die. But the young sisters would not go unless I went. They have many years left to help people. Finally, I said, pack what you can. We will leave."

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