the agent commenced, ‘Seems there’s quite a mob gathering outside their embassy.’ “Sander” was Alexander Hoffman, the First Secretary’s Dutch counterpart. Whitehead listened, the possibility of demonstrations at the Netherlands Embassy not unexpected.
‘Send Wilson,’ was all the MI6 chief had to say. The agent nodded and turned without further discussion, returning to the crowded quarters he shared with Wilson, the third member of the MI6 contingent based at the embassy.
Whitehead’s agents operated from a small discrete cell within the embassy, known as “the station”. Equipped with its own highly-secure communications systems and frequently swept for listening devices, the station was only accessible by the agents.
As head of station, traditionally Whitehead would function under the guise of a Foreign and Commercial Office Counsellor and his activities would be declared to Badan Koordinasi Intelijen (BIN), the Indonesian equivalent of the CIA, as much of his activities only involved general liaison. The other officers such as Wilson remained undeclared because they would spend a significant part of their time spying against the host country.
While reflecting on the competency of his two agents, Whitehead slipped into a ruminative mood, reassessing the successes (and failures) of MI6 operations in Indonesia. The British Secret Service maintained some fifty stations around the world and he was aware that Third World stations usually consisted of only one officer and a secretary. The size of a station reflected the importance of the host country in relation to Britain’s interests. Jakarta, due to Indonesia’s evolving pro-Western stance, had been upgraded to a three-man-station with a personal secretary, as President Suharto’s ‘New Order’ fascist regime was, potentially, a major customer for Britain’s weapons industry. London, he knew, was preparing the groundwork in anticipation of a revitalised Asian arms race. Indonesia was prioritised as its armed forces were desperate to replace their antiquated Soviet arsenal with Western product. Also, should the possibility of Indonesia losing West Irian to an independence vote in any way compromise Britain’s military sales’ prospects, then Her Majesty’s Government would support and encourage Jakarta to absorb the territory by whatever unobtrusive means possible.
Whitehead’s eyes canvassed the wall of his domain, drawn to a wall plaque that he had inscribed as a constant reminder of any nation’s vulnerability, when overly dependent on its intelligence-gathering apparatus and personnel.
“In the eyes of posterity it will inevitably seem that, in safeguarding our freedom, we destroyed it. The vast clandestine apparatus we built up to prove our enemies’ resources and intentions only served in the end to confuse our own purposes; that practice of deceiving others for the good of the state led infallibly to our deceiving ourselves; and that vast army of clandestine personnel built up to execute these purposes were soon caught up in the web of their own sick fantasies, with disastrous consequences for them and us.”
Malcolm Muggeridge
May 1966
The MI6 station chief’s secretary knocked once then entered. ‘Your wife called ... again,’ she informed, not without a hint of annoyance, ‘... to remind you not to be late.’
Lawrence Whitehead checked his wrist. ‘Might not be such a bad idea to leave a little earlier for the airport, what with the demonstrations gaining momentum. Have my car brought around then call my wife to inform her I’m on my way to take her to the airport.’
* * * *
Royal Netherlands Embassy
Army recruits dressed in civilian attire scrambled from army transports parked in an adjacent street. They jogged towards the Dutch Embassy, their crew-cut hairstyles and military boots obvious to onlookers parked not so discreetly in diplomatic-plated vehicles, snapping photographs, monitoring the demonstration. Amongst these were British, American and Australian observers whose countries shared common interests in the world’s largest Moslem nation’s recent shift towards democracy. The Soviets had long lost interest following President Sukarno’s downfall, his demise spiraling the world’s third largest Communist party into oblivion. Having provided (and lost) hundreds of millions in both military and commercial aid Moscow now maintained a more pragmatic approach to Jakarta, diverting much of their energy to North Vietnam.
The soldiers infiltrated the scene waving placards demanding the Dutch Government withdraw its request for United Nations troops to be stationed in West Papua. Within minutes the gathering degenerated into a hysterical mass of screaming demonstrators, when military provocateurs commenced throwing missiles over the entrance’s two-metre walled barrier, into steel-shuttered windows.
Chants of ‘Belanda pulang!’ and ‘Belanda jangan campur tangan!’ could be heard reverberating along the street, the calls for the Dutch to go home and cease interfering in domestic issues gathering momentum as another truckload of agitators joined the fray. Dutch Embassy staff had commenced implementing Level Two readiness orders which effectively shutdown all Consular services to the general public.
* * * *
Although it was unlikely the demonstrators would breach embassy security, First Secretary Alexander Hoffman, or “Sander” as he was more commonly called was, nonetheless, reminded of the recent attack against the nearby Singapore Embassy in the elite central suburb of Menteng. At the time, even he had been surprised with the viciousness of the assault, recalling that the retributive attacks were in retaliation to Singapore’s hanging of two Indonesian commandos. The men had penetrated the island’s defences and detonated a bomb at the Hong Kong & Shanghai Bank, killing two — and partially destroying the Australian High Commission. He had seen Jakarta’s normally gridlocked streets transform eerily into traffic-less avenues when the soldier’s bodies were transported from Kemayoran to the hero’s cemetrey, Kalibata.
Sander had anticipated the demonstrations having received warnings from informants. He had assessed the volatile climate and the potential for spillover from the current Malaysian riots which, since erupting the month before, had already claimed two hundred lives. As a senior intelligence officer, it was his responsibility to monitor not only Indonesia’s domestic situation, but also that of neighbouring countries. He had read the briefs concerning the Malaysian State of Emergency, surprised when the Malaysian Parliament had been suspended. He and others amongst the diplomatic corps had expressed concern that the racially-driven unrest might spread across the Malacca Straits and result in a repeat of the 1965-66 purge, which near-decimated Indonesia’s ethnic Chinese population. Sander was also disquieted by the opportunity such instability offered the military-driven Indonesian Government to implement covert, state-sponsored terror campaigns as it had so effectively initiated over the past three years since General Suharto’s coup d’etat in March 1966.
* * * *
Sander’s eyes remained transfixed on the dossier’s contents — the First Secretary momentarily mesmerised by the lifeless, black and white imagery of the murdered Dutch missionary Jeanne Heynneman. He remained in silent contemplation, the tips of his right hand unconsciously brushing imaginary dust from the stark photograph, his mind wandering back a year to when he had last spoken to the woman.
* * * *
‘Then you won’t reconsider?’ Having learned of Jeanne’s missionary appointment which would take her to West Irian, Sander had invited her to the embassy to seek her cooperation in providing regular, on the ground information which might be of value to the Dutch Government. Sander was a serving Dutch Army officer actively engaged in security matters under the auspices of LAMID, the Netherlands Army Intelligence Service. As was the situation with other Western nations, they were bereft of intelligence assets across the huge West Irian expanse, the Dutch marginally ahead in the game benefitting from missionaries who had remained in the territory, subsequent
