The Fifth Season (63 page)

Even the smallest state would have representation. The nation's cultural passage through time had produced a vibrant, talented community. Although diversified, under his guidance, the country would remain unified.

The United States had undertaken to leave the American Seventh Fleet on temporary duty in Indonesian waters as a buffer against the threat of outside aggression. In turn, Winarko had undertaken to strike the
Mufti Muharam
while their leadership was in disarray and to totally destroy the militant movement before Beijing considered the opportunity to occupy Indonesia, too tempting to resist.

The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff sat pondering the assumptions outlined in the final assessment, the thick file document now lying on his desk. In a few more months he would retire, the complicated issues raised in the submission would then become the responsibility of others. For this, he was grateful. Past recommendations made by the Joint Chiefs to the President had not always been without heated debate, nor had these been unanimous for even amongst his peers, politics played an important role in the decision making processes.

The Admiral's thoughts returned to the final numbers suggested by his analysts, annoyed with the uninformed who still maintained that U.S. foreign policy had been mainly responsible for what had happened. It was easy to apportion blame without understanding all of the facts. Now, the pendu-lum had swung too far in the other direction. In the years since President Suhapto had stepped down as President of Indonesia, more than ten million had died in Java alone. Most, he knew from intelligence reports, had been Christians and Buddhists, many of these of Chinese descent.

He considered the events which had required the Administration's manipulation of IMF and World Bank bail out packages for Indonesia and asked himself in their efforts to curtail the rapid growth of China's influence across the Asian and Middle East regions, had the United States provided the catalyst for this bloody outcome? Had President Suhapto been permitted to serve out his term, or even left to die in office, would Indonesia have continued on its path of stability as it had for more than thirty years or would the endemic corruption on which the American supported Indonesian dictatorship thrived, ultimately have produced the same disorder and civil unrest? These and other questions continued to occupy his mind, as he worried that there may never really be any solution to the inherent problems which faced resource rich countries such as Indonesia.

The United States had embarked on a more militant road in response to international terrorism. U.S. forces' strikes against Sudan and Afghanistan marked the beginning of his country's stand against Moslem extremists who, unlike Saddam Husein, had taken their war to the Americans by bombing diplomatic missions in Africa and the Middle East. These incidents had stirred strong passions amongst the American people.

Although the actions had the negative effect of uniting the extremists, at least his nation had demonstrated its willingness to retaliate when American life and property were threatened. In hindsight, he now believed that the United States should have struck and destroyed the very source of the problem while they still had the chance. China's belligerent, highly confrontational support for Iran and Iraq would undoubtedly result in Israel being attacked with Chinese produced ballistic missiles, launched by militant Moslems. He admitted silently that had the United States initiated preemptive strikes against Abdul Muis'
Mufti Muharam
while in its infancy, the lives of millions would surely have been saved.

In the meantime, the Admiral knew that the United States had to be content that at least one major objective had been achieved, albeit at the expense of the many who had died during the
Mufti Muharam
reign of terror. Indonesia would not, he firmly believed, become a nuclear threat - at least not in the foreseeable future, leaving the United States to consider how to protect the archipelago from its militant neighbors.

Major General Shabtai Saguy sat motionless, listening to the intelligence briefing presented by the United States officer. The threat against Israel had not diminished in any way as a result of their ally's determined response to Moslem militancy. If anything, the threat had grown. Iran's ICBM capability was now widely known amongst intelligence agencies.

Why the Americans continued to refuse to target these facilities was the question which continued to plague his people.

He knew that Israel's interests were so closely aligned with those of the United States it would only be a matter of time before both would become embroiled in a nuclear confrontation with one of his country's aggressive neighbors. As for the Far East, he disagreed with his American counterparts that the Moslem dominated Republic of Indonesia was no longer a threat. Shabtai Saguy had been an intelligence officer too long to disbelieve that by simply changing the country's leadership the national psyche would follow. He would reserve judgment and wait to see how this fellow Winarko behaved, before making any further recommendations regarding Mossad activities in the world's largest Moslem nation.

* * * *

‘What's up Pete?' she asked.

‘What's up, my dear? You might very well ask that question.' He leaned against the doorway, waving a sheet of paper at the staff. ‘Seems we have an extremely talented young lady working amongst us,' he grinned mischievously.

Her curiosity aroused, Mary Jo sauntered over to her editor and removed the paper from his hand. The communication was a faxed copy of a news bulletin released by Columbia University during a three o'clock press conference. She read the first two lines almost disinterestedly, then stopped, her eyes wide and stared back at her boss.

‘I've won?' she shrieked incredulously, and then again, ‘I've really won?'

while the editor gave a conspiratorial wink to his staff. It was he who had submitted the entry for consideration.

‘Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I give you Miss Mary Jo Hunter, this year's recipient of the Pulitzer Prize and I quote, “For a distinguished example of reporting on international affairs, including United Nations correspondence, Five Thousand dollars!”'

The room erupted with cheering. ‘Drinks on you!' a colleague yelled.

‘Wait everybody, wait,' he called, ‘there's more. The announcement goes on to say, “Awarded to Mary Jo Hunter for her compelling, comprehensive and compassionate reporting from Indonesia of the refugee crisis in Indonesia, and her contribution to journalism with her coverage of the UNHCR resettlement camps throughout South East Asia.”'

The office broke into thunderous applause, several of her associates rushing up to congratulate Mary Jo on her success.

‘Drinks on me, everyone!' she laughed, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, then went directly to the phone to call Columbia University to thank the office of trustees responsible for awarding the Pulitzer Prizes.

She remained on the phone, the number of incoming calls congratulating Mary Jo seemingly never ending. Western Union called and read her official notification from the Pulitzer Prize Board. Then, with a nod from their chief, half the editorial staff downed pens and swept Mary Jo away to the local bar where celebrations continued through the rest of the afternoon and, for some, well into the night.

Later in the quiet of her apartment, while savoring the moment of her success, Mary Jo's thoughts crossed to those who had influenced her decision to dedicate the past twelve months to her study of Asia's lost tribes — the refugees.

Upon her return from Australia, and good to his word, Mary Jo's chief-of-staff approved her request to conduct in-depth coverage of those displaced by the Asian turmoil. With new equipment in hand, she had flown to Singapore, using the stable city as her hub. From there, Mary Jo visited camps throughout Malaysia, northern Australia and Indonesia's newly created provinces which now enjoyed autonomy over all matters except defense. By then East Timor had achieved independence. In Aceh, Mary Jo was on hand when yet another gruesome grave site containing more than seven hundred bodies of women and children had been uncovered, victims of Javanese oppression.

First on her agenda, had been to determine what had happened to Anne. Mary Jo returned to Indonesia, her heart heavy when she learned of the seaside massacres, Anne's family reporting that they had not heard from her since she left with Mary Jo for East Java. Mary Jo revisited Pelabuhan Ratu, still scarred by violence, conflicting emotions tearing at her heart when she saw the skeletal remains of the gutted Samudera Beach Hotel, standing as silent testimony to the
Mufti Muharam's
destructive forces.

Following the loss of their leader Abdul Muis, the movement had floundered in the ensuing leadership vacuum and, with General Praboyo's former forces now firmly behind him as well, President Winarko had struck a decisive blow amidst the confusion, the threat of American intervention forcing the warring factions to the negotiating table where accommodations were made and compromises placed Winarko firmly in control. The
Mufti Muharam
collapsed as a movement with the emergence of a number of charismatic scholars who divided the remaining party into three, after which Winarko's forces easily disarmed them all.

As Mary Jo continued with her ongoing assignment, she gradually acquired a greater understanding of the racial, ethnic and religious issues which still dominated life at village level, everywhere she visited. She was deeply affected by what had happened to the culturally rich archipelago nation, saddened when it became evident that the wounds opened by the conflict remained festering, unlikely to heal.

Mary Jo made new friends, occasionally crossing paths with old acquaintances as she traveled the region extensively, filing reports regularly, her stories earning accolades around the globe. She was aware of her nominations. In fact there had been two, her head swimming with excitement when she learned that her black and white study ‘Children, The Real Victims of War', had also been acknowledged by the trustees at Columbia.

And now her work had earned her the highest accolade her profession could offer, A Pulitzer Prize.

She opened the bedside drawer and extracted a bundle of letters lying there, tied in ribbon. Mary Jo opened the first, a lengthy letter, the child like handwriting on lined paper was written in Bahasa Indonesia. It was from Hani, and as she started to read the familiar contents for the umpteenth time, her eyes became misty, recalling how the two waifs had first appeared in her life.

Dear Mary Jo,

We must move to a center in some place called Port Hedland, Lily says that I
should try and speak more English, but I don't care to.

Mary Jo's hand came to her mouth, unconsciously touching her lips, remembering what followed:

Lily says she doesn't hate me anymore and that's something, although she also
said we could never really be friends again.

I try to understand what happened, Mary Jo, what I did to make her feel
this way but I can't think of anything. I feel sorry that so many people were hurt.

Lily says she read in the papers here that Indonesians like her (that's Chinese
Mary Jo, I don't know if you knew this) have left the country and taken all of
their money with them. Now, she says, they are all too frightened to return. If
this is true, then I can't say that I blame them. If you can believe what Lily says,
a lot of Chinese were killed. But I'm not sure about this either.

Y
ou've got to understand, Mary Jo, but ever since I can remember I have
never seen any of her people poor. Not like us. I guess this is why there is so much
bitterness. They always had fine clothes and plenty of money to buy the things they
wanted. I don't understand why it was like this, it just seemed to be the same everywhere at the time. There are lots of others here who are like Lily. Some of them
have small bars of gold which they keep hidden from the security here. I saw one
a few days ago but when they saw me looking, they sent me away and told me to
mind my own business. Oh yes, and Lily snapped at me yesterday. She said I was
lazy. I don't think I am. Do you think I'm lazy Mary Jo? I am trying very hard
to stay here in Australia. I don't want to go back to Indonesia. My family are all
dead. Did you know that my father was a General, Mary Jo? It's true. He was
killed. So was my brother. I don't know what happened to my little sister, I just
hope she is safe somewhere and remembers me. There are lots of others here who are
like Lily. I feel so lonely here. Please come back soon to help me, Mary Jo.

Goodbye, your friend, Hani Purwadira.

Hani had obviously saved this letter, as a second had been commenced half-way through the first. They were dated a fortnight apart.

Hi Mary Jo,

I don't want to forget my own language, Lily refuses to speak to me in Indonesian anymore. She is always in a bad mood with me. I don't know what is
wrong. Perhaps she still blames me for what happened to her. Lily told me a long
story yesterday. I'm not sure she didn't make it up. I asked her if it was really true
and she became very angry so maybe it really happened. I don't know. I told her
some of my secrets as well but she didn't seem interested so I stopped. Did she tell
you that she lived in a very large apartment before, Mary Jo? If she did, it's a lie.