And the same sort of things get up their nose: people mucking them about; giving them four or five different versions of what’s going to happen next; being treated like mushrooms – where’s my mail, would be nice if we could get a hot meal hot and a cold drink cold, who’s the idiot who designed the ‘no gear’ policy. Among others it was probably me! The thing I found about soldiers too was if you can talk to them about what you want to do and why you’re doing it, why you’re asking them to do it, even if you’re any number of ranks removed from them, they appreciate it. So they don’t want you to run round sort of babying them to make them happy. They hate to be taken for granted and not told why something, which is obviously hard, needs to be done that way.
So to me it’s a two-way street, where you prise these characteristics out of Diggers then you’ve got to acknowledge them in the way you actually relate to them. Very few martinets, authoritarian sorts of popinjays, flourish in the Army. Not just the soldiers but also the other leaders in the Army sort of don’t like that style and somebody will either adjust their style or find a different employment.
According to Cosgrove, the core characteristic that should be developed and maintained is reliability:
If a fellow says I won’t let you down, I’ll be there or I’ll guard this or I’ll take care of you, then that’s written in stone. And it’s this bond of trust that is the core of mateship – I mean mateship can’t exist without trust and reliability and we elevate mateship but it must be built along the fundamental obligation felt by the individual to keep his or her word.
In some strange way, that feeling was consistent with Australia’s return to East Timor. At the end of World War II, Indonesia proclaimed its independence, and its driving force, President Sukarno, set about bringing his dream – an Indonesia made up of the old Dutch East Indies – to reality. In doing so, many would argue that he replaced an ancient colonial regime with a modern one. In 1949, Indonesia came into being when the Netherlands gave up its colonies in the Dutch West Indies, including West Timor.
East Timor languished as a neglected Portuguese colonial outpost until a military coup in Portugal in 1974 weakened its hold over its colony. This provided the East Timorese with a tantalising chance of independence the following year when the Portuguese abruptly pulled out after 400 years of colonial rule. The result was a power vacuum. But just nine days after the Democratic Republic of East Timor was declared an independent nation in December 1975, Indonesia invaded and annexed it on 16 July 1976.
Only three nations, Australia, India and Papua New Guinea, officially recognised the annexation. It had the tacit compliance of the United States. The United Nations passed a resolution condemning the invasion but took no action. Resolution 3485 (XXX) read:
Recognising the inalienable right of all peoples to self-determination … Calls upon all States to respect the inalienable right of the people of Portuguese Timor to self-determination.
Talk but no action. It was the Cold War. The USA and her allies wanted Indonesia, the world’s biggest Muslim country, as a trading partner and ally. Compounding that, the main political force in East Timor championing independence was Fretilin, then dominated by Marxist doctrine.
In fact, Indonesia’s invasion and its brutal occupation of East Timor largely escaped international condemnation. The tiny island’s resistance movement was violently suppressed by Indonesian military forces, and as many as 200,000 Timorese are thought to have died from famine, disease, and fighting in the years following the annexation. It wasn’t until the early 1990s that Indonesia’s human rights abuses finally attracted international attention – largely due to the work of two East Timorese activists, Bishop Carlos Filipe Ximenes Belo and José Ramos-Horta, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1996 for their efforts.
Indonesia did an about-turn on its stance on East Timor in 1998, following the departure of the intractable President Suharto. The new president, B.J. Habibie, surprised the international community by agreeing to a referendum on East Timorese independence. But in the lead-up to the vote, pro-Indonesian militia and the separatist guerrillas clashed repeatedly, forcing two postponements. Eventually, on 30 August 1999, 78.5 per cent of the population voted for independence from Indonesia. Violence exploded immediately as pro-Indonesian militia and Indonesian soldiers turned on the East Timorese and their possessions. Buildings were torched, services such as electricity, phone and water were destroyed, and many civilians were killed. Around one-third of the population fled into West Timor or overseas.
It was in this chaos that the Australian Digger again proved his worth to the people of East Timor. The UN Security Council passed Resolution 1264 (1999), calling for the creation of an International Force in East Timor (Interfet) to intervene in East Timor. The force, to be led by Australia, would address the deteriorating humanitarian and security situation. The Australian Commander of Interfet was (the then) Major General Peter Cosgrove. The first time most Australians saw him was when he fronted a press conference in Darwin in September 1999. In front of more than 40 national and international TV crews and other media he strode to the microphone:
My name is Major General Peter Cosgrove. My task is to restore peace and security in East Timor. I plan to carry out that mission.
It was a career-changing moment. His orders extended to protecting and supporting the UN Assistance Mission East Timor (UNAMET) in carrying out its tasks; and, within the capability of the force, facilitate humanitarian assistance operations.
Prior to his appointment as Commander of Interfet, Cosgrove had been leading the 1st Australian Division, the Deployable Joint Force (DJF), based out of Brisbane. As soon as the DJF learned of the unfolding political situation in East Timor it began exploring contingency plans aimed at covering foreseeable developments there. Initially they took the form of ‘tewts’ (tactical exercises without troops), sophisticated ‘war games’ allowing the participants to familiarise themselves with likely, or possible, scenarios based on the facts available.
With the rest of the world, Cosgrove and his team watched TV news coverage of armed pro-Indonesian militia chasing terrified East Timorese refugees into the UN’s Dili compound, while Indonesian police and troops looked on passively. (The East Timor Commission for Reception, Truth and Reconciliation subsequently confirmed in a 2500-page report to UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan and Indonesian President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono in early 2006 that the Indonesian military were behind the carnage.) The Indonesian police forced most international observers out of the country, rounding them up and escorting them to Dili’s Komoro Airport at gunpoint where they were evacuated by a shuttle of aircraft from the RAAF and the NZ Air Force, both protected by Australian SAS troops.
By 7 September 1999 the Howard government seriously considered that the only option was intervention by an international force, led by, or at least comprising, Australian troops. The following day, the ADF began planning for Operation Warden, Australia’s involvement with an international peacekeeping force on the ground in East Timor.
After prompting from Prime Minister John Howard, US President Bill Clinton acted by threatening to withdraw financial aid from Indonesia unless it took action to stop the violence in East Timor. The International Monetary Fund followed suit by suspending its Indonesian lending program. (Some sources claimed that Clinton gave Habibie a blunt message: ‘You can lose East Timor or you can lose the whole of Timor. You choose.’)
On 11 September the United Nations Security Council called on Indonesia to invite an international peacekeeping force to East Timor to restore peace and order. On 12 September President Habibie agreed, and on 14 September the Security Council followed up with its resolution calling for the creation of an international force in East Timor under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. Howard proposed that Australia lead the force and the offer was accepted.
The Diggers of Interfet left Australia on 19 September 1999 with the warm wishes of most Australians, as Peter Cosgrove remembers with pride:
/> I’ve never seen such an outpouring of concern, sympathy, empathy, identification as we experienced when we headed off into Timor. We were heading off into the unknown and in those first few weeks I believe you could have cut the emotional outpouring with a knife that was pouring in through letters, radio broadcasts, television, the whole nine yards. The force was overwhelmed with these messages of concern, which uplifted them greatly.
And that was from people who were sort of playing their vicarious role as a Digger. A lot of mums and dads and brothers and sisters but, also, a lot of people who simply wanted to identify with the team – ‘Team Australia’, but also ‘Team Australia in East Timor’.
Peter Cosgrove was the man for the job. He was imbued with the spirit of the Digger from birth as a third-generation Digger. His maternal grandfather served in both World Wars and his father was a World War I veteran and professional soldier:
My dad was – from what I knew as a young fella and then confirmed when I was in my very early years in the Army – rock solid. His word was his bond. John Cosgrove was reliable. If he said he would do something then everybody knew that he would move heaven and earth to do it. So his mates, his superiors, his subordinates could rely on him. So it was this notion that at the core of a soldier is somebody who must and can be trusted.
The Army seemed the logical career path when Peter Cosgrove left school:
I grew up in a family where the men wore khaki. But, notwithstanding the fact that I loved what I knew of the Army through my dad’s service, it didn’t make me necessarily an organised, self-disciplined, highly self-confident individual. These are things you have to inculcate and grow. I don’t think I shone through on the interview board as being ‘Oh, we must have this guy.’
In fact, the young Peter Cosgrove only just made it into Duntroon:
I know I squeaked into Duntroon because in this day and age you can ask to see your files. I’m well aware that the board wasn’t wholly persuaded of my field marshal–type qualities at that time so the casting vote of the chairman was necessary to get me onto the successful candidates list.
That chairman knew his stuff. Because, once he knuckled down, Peter Cosgrove emerged as one of our finest soldiers. From his first combat posting in Vietnam, within a year after receiving his commission, 22-year-old Lieutenant Peter Cosgrove stood out. He won a Military Cross for bravery within a month of arriving in Vietnam as a platoon commander and revealed himself to be an outstanding leader of men. It was the beginning of a glittering career, which would culminate in his appointment from 2002 to 2005 as the Chief of our Defence Forces.
Ironically, the Interfet deployment was our biggest since Vietnam, but from the start Cosgrove was aware his men faced a very different task this time. Vietnam was high-intensity, all-encompassing modern warfare. East Timor loomed as a jigsaw of multinational cooperation in border and personnel protection, peacekeeping, diplomacy, humanitarian aid and nation building.
Just as he did in Vietnam, Peter Cosgrove rose to the occasion. He showed the leadership and determination necessary to establish the credibility of his force. And this, at first, was a daunting task. Interfet arrived with about 5000 troops. Indonesia then still had 15,000 troops in East Timor – troops which, either with or without orders from their superiors, had participated in or stood by as pro-Indonesian militia destroyed much of the country’s infrastructure and killed many of its inhabitants. Cosgrove’s force, with his Diggers at the front, had stepped in between two deadly foes in full fight, with all the hazards such an exercise involves. But Interfet had arrived with such speed and had deployed with such precision that many observers believe they gave the impression of being a far larger force. Peter Cosgrove immediately sought and quickly achieved a balance between the threat of force his troops represented and the desire to end the violence peacefully. In all his work, he was aware of his responsibility to the Diggers:
I think that people want to be reassured that when their sons and daughters have to apply violence that it’s a matter of regret, not because they did the wrong thing, but that violence was necessary.
On arrival at Komoro Airport, Cosgrove and his men immediately saw unmistakable signs of the enormous task confronting them. An ominous smoke haze hung over the city, signalling the massive destruction caused by the militia and Indonesian troops. They had destroyed 80 per cent of the buildings, along with power stations, phone lines, water, sewerage and drainage pipes, stations and even the roads. Within days of taking up their position, Interfet troops had uncovered evidence of mass murder.
Cosgrove took advantage of the large media contingent to get his messages across locally and internationally. He swiftly revealed his great capacity for diplomacy and his ability to explain both the role and the actions of soldiers in simple, positive terms:
At one stage in Timor there was a border incident where … a number of Indonesian policemen were shooting with automatic weapons at our soldiers. Another Australian soldier in a slightly different position to the ones who were being shot at could see these men shooting at his mates and did the right thing – shot one of the policemen, killed him. There was no rejoicing over that. It was a matter of regret; of necessity, but of regret.
Part of the public explanation of what had occurred was this: ‘How sad. If that man had not been shooting at our soldiers, he’d be alive today.’ But, you know, the message here was: ‘Don’t shoot at Australians or that might happen to you.’ But it could have been put the other way: ‘You shoot at Australian soldiers, you learn your lesson.’ That wouldn’t have gone down well. I mean, the expression of it that way, you know. I guess ‘he’s learned his lesson’ would have sounded like rejoicing. So it just seems to me that in certain sorts of conflicts your people are hoping for the fact the force can operate in a humane way.
One of the complicating factors in Cosgrove’s command in East Timor was dealing with the many national contributors to the force. He was able to draw on the fruits of years of personal relationships developed through military exchanges between Australia and our regional partners. Cosgrove already knew his Interfet deputy, General Songkitti from Thailand, having attended the British Army Staff College at Camberley in the mid 1980s with him, and he also knew the commander of the US forces assigned to work with Interfet’s communications. Cosgrove assigned an Australian liaison officer to each of the regional contributors – someone who spoke their language, understood their culture and could establish personal relationships with them. He also was at great pains to develop and foster close and trusted relationships with the East Timorese people.
In turn, Cosgrove was supported by an old mate, General Michael Keating, who ran the ‘pit’ – the ADF Command Centre bunker underneath the Russell Offices in Canberra. Keating was Assistant Chief of the Defence Force Operations and pulled together the vast, varied and often conflicting web of international intelligence sources and interests. Keating also helped draft the rules of engagement for Interfet troops. Each morning at 5 am, Keating spoke to Cosgrove and kept him on top of the ever-changing issues affecting his mission. It was Keating who provided invaluable ‘top cover’ for Cosgrove whenever any of the participating nations tried to subvert the normal lines of communications. So it was Keating who gave Cosgrove the intelligence that enabled Interfet to speak with one voice.
Nevertheless, Cosgrove faced unique and pressing problems on the ground that only a decisive leader could overcome. By the end of October 1999 he was publicly calling on the UN to appoint special investigators to examine the atrocities his troops were regularly uncovering. On 20 December the Interfet intelligence group inexplicably lost access to their top-secret Australian database known as TOPIC. It was an unprecedented occurrence, the cause of which has never been satisfactorily explained.
Cosgrove worked very closely with the head of the United Nations Assistance Mission in East Timor (UNAMET), 30-year veteran Brazilian diplomat Sergio Viera de Mello, who in turn oversaw the peacekeepers’ work and the distribution
of humanitarian aid, and also presided over the new nation’s judiciary and administration. (Cosgrove was deeply affected when de Mello was killed by a car bomb in Baghdad in 2003.)
Cosgrove also quickly developed a strong relationship with José Ramos-Horta, who is regarded as the father of the new nation having worked tirelessly for a quarter of a century to keep his country’s nationhood at the forefront of consciousness at the United Nations and at countless foreign affairs ministries.
Interfet’s presence and actions won acclaim as it gradually took control of East Timor, radiating out from its Dili base. The Indonesians began reducing their military presence and by November 1999 only around 1500 of their troops remained in the country.
Peter Cosgrove reflected on the contradictory nature of military leadership, in which the need for uncompromising decisiveness must be balanced against the need to maintain one’s personal principles.
I’ve got to be capable of being extraordinarily tough because in the end you need to employ a high level of ruthless and dispassionate logic when you are seeking to make hard decisions which put people in harm’s way. As soon as you know what it is that must be done, cannot be avoided, you then need to engage immediately the other side, or hopefully the other part of the character which says, now how can we do this at minimal cost? And I hope that that’s the compassionate side. In different jobs it ebbs and flows.
The Spirit of the Digger Page 34