May was a month of milestones. First came Independence Day celebrations. Then, the news broke: East Timor had finally secured full membership of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) – one of the world’s fastest-growing economic blocs. Not bad for a nation most people in Wales couldn’t point to on a map.
Late last year I was looking for work, but found few prospects in Wales. Working online was a possibility – but if I was going to go global professionally, why not do it in person as well? So, cutting a long story short, in March of this year I found myself walking across the sweltering tarmac towards the immigration desk at Presidente Nicolau Lobato International Airport in Dili, the capital of Timor-Leste.
Timor-Leste: a paradise forged in pain
Not many people in Wales know where this tiny nation is – or what it endured to become independent. Briefly: it’s the eastern half of the island of Timor, at the eastern end of the island chain that stretches westwards to the Malay Peninsula, with the Philippines to the north and Australia to the south. It’s a tropical paradise with a history written in struggle and blood.
I’ve been here for only two months, but it’s already clear that Timor-Leste holds crucial lessons for the independence movement in Wales.
Timor-Leste is a nation of nearly 1.5 million citizens, so it’s even smaller than we are. Remarkably, though, 95% are aged under 65. Some 40% are younger than 15. By comparison, in Wales, 16% are of retirement age, and only 22% are under 15. In other words, Timor-Leste has a young and growing population, whereas the Welsh are old and greying.
Why are there so few old people here? Because so few got the chance to become old.
Bloodshed and belief: what makes a nation?
Like Wales, Timor-Leste was conquered and colonised, in this case by the Portuguese. After more than four centuries, sovereignty came suddenly: in 1974, the Portuguese army, weary of the grinding wars against independence movements in Angola and Mozambique, staged a coup against Portugal’s ageing dictator and restored democracy. Within a year, Lisbon’s new socialist republic declared all its colonies independent, Timor-Leste among them. Under the leadership of Nicolau Lobato, the Timorese were poised to join the ranks of the world’s sovereign nations.
Within another year, they were annexed by neighbouring Indonesia, with Lobato leading a guerilla resistance from the mountains. He died in battle in 1978. Between 1975 and 1999, the Indonesians killed around 100,000 Timorese. Another 200,000 are thought to have died of illness and starvation, and a further 300,000 were internally displaced and resettled into camps controlled by the Indonesian military.
In 1999, the Welsh population was just under three million. Imagine if a million of them had been killed or displaced by an occupying power. How might the Welsh have responded in the face of such overwhelming loss and dislocation? Would they resist and fight on, as the people of Timor-Leste did?
One people, many voices
East Timor is incredibly diverse. Its population is made up of numerous cultural groups and is still very clan based. Sixteen languages are spoken here. What is it that established them as a nation, motivating them to endure so much suffering in order to be free?
Of course, there are unifying factors. One is simply the shared experience of having been ruled by the Portuguese for so long. Religion is another: 97% of East Timorese are Catholic – although, as in Brazil, I gather that it’s a syncretistic form that conceals strong elements of traditional religion beneath the surface. This alone goes a long way to understanding their resistance to rule by predominantly Muslim Indonesia.
Ultimately, it seems to have been simply the idea that they are a nation and that they should be free to rule themselves. And that’s all you need, regardless of the internal differences and squabbles.
In the end, independence came suddenly and once more from outside. In 1997, Asia was rocked by a major financial crisis that destabilised many of the countries in the region. Indonesia was very badly affected, and in 1998 its long-term dictator, the US-backed Suharto, was forced to step down after three decades of brutal rule.
His successor, the liberal but idiosyncratic BJ Habibie, unexpectedly offered East Timor a referendum on whether it should remain in Indonesia or select independence. The result was an overwhelming vote in favour of independence. The UN took over the government, backed by Australian peacekeeping forces, and, on 20 May 2002, East Timor at last became a sovereign nation.
Independence lessons for Wales
So what are the lessons for Wales?
Lesson one: independence can come not through votes, but by collapse.
In Timor-Leste, it was coups, economic crashes, and dictators falling. For Wales, it could be England tearing itself apart. Wales may not need to declare independence so much as be prepared for it, in case the UK begins to unravel from within. In 2012, riots in England nearly spiralled out of control. Since then, police numbers have dropped, and a few years later, a police officer told me bluntly: “If it happens again, we won’t be able to contain it.”
In 2024, after three children were murdered in Southport, unrest flared up once more. The British state is stretched thin. If unrest happens again on a large scale, who’s going to stop it? A supply crisis, another pandemic, war – any of these could push England over the edge.
Lesson two: the survival of a small nation depends not just on history or politics, but also on belief. Despite clan divisions and linguistic differences, the people of Timor-Leste believed they were one nation. This belief sustained them. In Wales, we need to nurture the same conviction. Not as an electoral slogan, but as a shared truth: that we are one people, entitled to choose our own path.
The belief that binds
There was a time when Plaid Cymru seemed poised to lead the way, but now we rarely hear their leaders demanding independence. Who will take up the cause and inspire our people to reclaim what is rightfully theirs? If our leaders fall silent, who will rise to carry the dream forward?
There’s much more, of course.
In just over two decades, Timor-Leste’s has progressed from being a nation of traumatised refugees living amid the ruins, to being the newest member of ASEAN. They’re having to build their country from the ground up, dealing with education, civil society, and constructing an economy. Things are far from perfect, but after what the Timorese have endured, their progress is astonishing.
So how are the Timorese managing their independence? In the next two articles, I’ll talk about some of the social and economic challenges they’ve had to address – and which an independent Cymru will also have to face…
