In the capital Dili, gangs of unemployed youths patrol the streets at night and murders and petty crime have become commonplace. In towns and villages throughout the country young children play a game called "militia" with remarkably realistic toy automatic guns made from bamboo.
"We are used to solving our problems with guns and machetes, not reason," said Joao da Silva Sarmento, the president of the East Timor Student Solidarity Council (ETSSC).
"It will take years to filter this out of our system, but years we do not have."
The culture of violence is no stranger to Luis Carrilho. A Portuguese policeman serving on his third UN mission, Carrilho now runs the Police Training College in Dili, with a staff of 25 instructors from all around the world. Like everything in this reborn nation, to create a new police force Carrilho has had to start from scratch. None of his recruits have had any previous experience in policing except, he says, to have been arrested by the feared special police under Indonesian rule.
"We have had to get through to our trainees that the police force is to protect citizens, not to protect the state against citizens," he said.
"The law as before was abused by the police. We have pushed here that it is not OK to beat your wife, to kill your neighbor. It will take some time. Our students initially wanted more training in self-defense. We told them that the brain and the pen are the best weapons. They got the message."
But the lessons learned inside the new training academy may have little value once the graduates take to the streets. During a lecture on police procedure, 50 students listened attentively to an instructor describe the process of getting a case to court.
"The first stage is collecting evidence at the scene, then have it analyzed in the laboratory, then by a pathologist, then you have an exhibit to take to court," he said.
But in East Timor today there are no trained laboratory technicians, no pathologists and the legal system, though operational, could not yet be described as functional. Prisons are full to overflowing. UN administrator de Mello admits his mission is flying by the seat of its pants.
"We are pioneering here," he said. "We are improvising. We are inventing new models for this kind of mission."
Whether it will be successful, only time will tell. Yet at CNRT headquarters, bunkered down in the old UN compound in Dili that came under heavy militia attack during what Timorese called `Black September', the future is not feared.
"We have the confidence that our people can work and rebuild our nation," said Jose Ramos Horta, the winner of the Nobel Peace prize and the man already flagged to become East Timor's first foreign minister.
"People say we are not ready. But we have been preparing for this moment for 24 years. There should be no criticism. Now is the time for us to work, not to complain."
Andrew Perrin is a contributing reporter for the Taipei Times.



