Project Timor

On May 20, 2012, the day East Timor marked 10 years of independence, Taur Matan Ruak was sworn in as president of the small Southeast Asian country of 1.2 million people.

A trim, bespectacled statesman in his late 50s, Ruak today bears little resemblance to The Economist magazine’s portrayal of him as a guerrilla commander during the country’s fight for independence from Indonesia. Then, according to the magazine, he was “like an ageing rock star … he wore his frizzy hair in a long ponytail and a camouflage jacket over faded jeans”. Ruak appeared to refine his look during the nine years he spent at the helm of the country’s military, the Forcas de Defesa de Timor Leste.

Born José Maria Vasconcelos, the president is still universally known by his nom de guerre, Taur Matan Ruak, meaning “two sharp eyes”. Running as an independent in last year’s presidential elections, he campaigned not only as a former guerrilla commander but also as a man of the people. In a speech, he told voters: “I do not have a university degree, my way of studying is by observing and listening to others.”

To underline this approach, in June, Ruak embarked on a series of suco, or community, visits to some of the most isolated corners of his country.

Such is the remoteness of many of these places that the president often has to travel long distances by foot, his entourage in tow.

The aim of the visits is for him to let the Timorese know how the country is developing but also to familiarise himself with conditions on the ground and to hear first-hand the concerns of the people. That these mountain walks are also personal for the president is clear: “I spent 24 years of my life in the jungle, during the fight for independence,” he says, when we meet. “These people’s contribution to our country’s independence was huge.

They helped me and I do not want them to feel forgotten. I want that these people have a better life.” IN THE VILLAGE OF Marobo, in Bobonaro district, a gruelling sevenhour drive from the capital, Dili, the president’s arrival has all the hallmarks of a homecoming. He, his wife, Isabel Ferreira, and their three children, the youngest of whom is asleep on her shoulder, are formally greeted by the village elders and ushered into a crowd that has been eagerly awaiting the visit.