Question:
I am a "moderate" who is
"at heart benign." Who am
I?
Answer:
It's May 98
and Madeline Albright's fingernail
wraps itself in the coils of the telephone
cord as she hisses a curse. Suharto takes
down his hat and leaves,
leaving the front door open.
A moment later the vicepresident
walks in wearing the same hat.
It's 1965
And our boys are running roughshod
over the PKI. You've seen Hitler, Stalin,
Mao, but you haven't seen the momentum
of history. 100 thousand, "staggering,"
"a gleam of light in Asia." Get my
portfolio, it's almost time for the parade.
"Even
this small fragment of former
wealth came into the hands of
the rapacious stranger."
But don't fuck with the World
Bank. Don't try to screw the
IMF. Or we might call for
"a democratic transition."
It's 1975
and the great Portuguese empire
is beads scattering from a broken thread.
"Kissingerian realism."
Oil reserves + American
Weapons = 200,000.
Indonesia took Timor,
Carter smiled, and the newspapers
were blank.
It's 1978
and the massacre in East Timor
is hitting its stride
into its third year.
European nations and America
creep in to tear off what hunks of
meat they can.
It's 1999
and the Timorese have voted
for independence. 75% percent of
the votes of 90% of the voters,
even under intimidation. Violence
of a sort we would find unreal
is exploding. Indonesia considers
this their domestic affair and is keeping
the rest of the world at bay. "the
pioneer and exemplar for every kind of
atrocity." The Phoenix and the Contras,
arise, going after every last citizen.
Burning churches,
modern assault rifles,
babies,
razor wire,
continuous gunfire,
systematically.
Uncle Sam shrugs.
East Timor isn't Kuwait,
Kosovo.
