Abstract
From 1963 to 1966 Britain fought an undeclared war against Indonesia in the jungles of Borneo. Existing accounts of the tactical outcomes of this campaign take at face value the comments produced after the event by such key individuals as Sir Walter Walker, until March 1965 the British Director of Borneo Operations, who regarded the campaign as ‘a complete success’. This article demonstrates that this narrative is a retrospective judgement and that senior British officers at the time regarded the conclusion of the campaign as a success for Indonesia.
‘Confrontation’ was the name given to the undeclared war fought by Britain and its allies from 1963 to 1966 to protect the then newly established federation of Malaysia from Indonesian attack. 1 It was fought, in particular, on the island of Borneo, where Malaysia and Indonesia shared a thousand-mile border. Existing accounts of the tactical outcomes of the campaign take at face value the comments produced after the event by such key individuals as Sir Walter Walker, until March 1965 the British Director of Borneo Operations, who regarded the campaign as ‘a complete success … unlike the fiasco in Vietnam’. 2 Confrontation continues to be used even today as a byword for the effective marrying together of tactical military action and political intent. 3 But is this actually how the Borneo campaign was viewed by those prosecuting it? Using systematically for the first time documents produced during Confrontation by Borneo Headquarters itself, this article revisits the issue of Britain’s military tactical performance during Confrontation. What this article demonstrates is that the political settlement achieved over Borneo was viewed at the time by the British military as one favourable to the Indonesians: Indonesia had not been defeated; rather, it had simply adapted its strategy to achieve its goals through new ways. Thus, British tactics worked – but only viewed with the benefit of hindsight. Later narratives of triumph created by such individuals as General Walker reimagined British success on the basis of post-bellum political developments which were not anticipated in 1966, excising from their analyses of Confrontation the profound pessimism felt by key British officers at the time.
This article also uncovers a fascinating paradox in the operation of strategy. Dissecting the limitations of Western strategy since 2001, commentators have highlighted the significance of such weaknesses as the failure to define clear and attainable end-states, and to impose coherence across the range of activities conducted. 4 But strategic weakness can be a matter of perception. What this article demonstrates is that there can be an existential quality to effective strategy: if one side assumes that the other has a carefully constructed strategy to link means and ends, then it may to all intents and purposes exist, even if this is not actually the case. In retrospect, evidence exists to suggest that Indonesian strategy during Confrontation was riddled with inconsistencies and ambiguity. But, to an extent, in Borneo that did not matter. Borneo Headquarters believed at the time that the Indonesians had an elaborate and coherent strategy for their military operations: because of this it constructed for the Indonesians an image of effective strategy-making that led to the belief that British tactical military success was being neutralized by intelligent Indonesian strategic adaptation. The less coherent Indonesian strategy seemed to be, the harder Borneo Headquarters had to work to reconcile its inconsistencies, creating assumptions of complex, long-term Indonesian plans, and so the more intelligent, sophisticated, and intimidating Indonesian operations appeared to be.
This article begins with a brief overview of the Borneo campaign, a conflict that, overshadowed by the Malayan emergency (1948–60), is often marginalized in the history of British irregular warfare. The analysis then examines the orthodox perspective on British tactical success in Borneo, exploring the dominant narrative. In the third part, the discussion examines Borneo Headquarters’ assessment of its own performance and its impact on Indonesian political intentions. In the end, this article argues that, contrary to established belief, the peace settlement of 11 August 1966 was for the British military actually only a victory in hindsight. Borneo Headquarters took the view that its operations had had no strategic impact on Indonesian political intentions and that the peace settlement signed with Indonesia in August 1966 reflected not a decisive success for British military tactical action, but instead simply a change in Indonesian strategy.
I. The Indonesian Campaign
The proximate cause of Confrontation was the British and Malayan decision to create in September 1963 the federation of Malaysia. This comprised Malaya, Singapore, and the British colonial holdings on the island of Borneo (Sarawak and British North Borneo, the latter being renamed Sabah on independence). Among the reasons for establishing Malaysia was Britain’s desire to reduce the political and economic costs of maintaining its bases at Singapore by having them sited in an independent Asian state. A process of escalation in Indonesia’s anti-Malaysia rhetoric culminated on 20 January 1963 when the Indonesian foreign minister, Dr Subandrio, announced that Indonesia would adopt a policy of Konfrontasi (Confrontation) towards the creation of Malaysia on the basis that Malaya was acting as ‘the henchman of neo-Imperialism and neo-Colonialism pursuing a policy hostile to Indonesia’. 5 Confrontation itself created two contradictory priorities for Britain: on the one hand, the short-term goal was to convince Indonesia to cease undermining Malaysia; on the other hand, Indonesia was so important geostrategically that Britain needed to establish friendly long-term relations with President Sukarno. Thus, Britain had to defeat Indonesia in Borneo, but not in ways that would alienate Indonesia permanently. 6
Indonesian objectives are subject to considerable debate. Indonesia’s president argued that Confrontation was necessary to support the legitimate aspirations of those within Sarawak and Sabah who desired independence: Malaysia, he argued, was a neocolonial construct designed to perpetuate British influence in the region and not a genuine expression of the desire of the peoples of northern Borneo. But there were other plausible interests serviced by Confrontation. Sukarno’s anti-imperialist ideology, for example, may well have predisposed him to reject Britain’s plans for Malaysia. Moreover, stoking a low-level international political crisis helped shore up his fragile domestic political position: it avoided the need to engage in potentially painful economic reforms, and it helped mobilize behind him Indonesia’s antagonistic political factions. 7 Britain ascribed a range of ignoble objectives to Indonesian Konfrontasi: the desire to absorb Sarawak and Sabah into Indonesia (the south of Borneo island comprised the Indonesian province of Kalimantan); the desire to create a ‘Greater Indonesia’ that included Indonesian domination of Malaysia and the Philippines; the desire to establish Indonesia’s credentials as the leading element of the non-aligned movement; and the servicing of President Sukarno’s psychological needs, including his love of the political limelight, his restless opportunism, and his penchant for expansive rhetoric and grand revolutionary gestures. What emerged over time was a growing British fear that the real motives for Confrontation might be predominantly domestic. In the febrile and unstable political situation in Indonesia, Sukarno maintained his position by playing off the two key political actors: the Indonesian army, the TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia), and the Indonesian Communist Party, the PKI (Partai Komunis Indonesia). Essentially inimical to one another, the TNI and PKI were best balanced by Sukarno in the context of a unifying external threat. The growing belief in Britain was that Confrontation might be an end in itself, not a means to achieve any specific international goals, and as will be seen this had a negative effect on British strategic calculations.
The Indonesian campaign against Borneo was a complex one. Indonesian Konfrontasi was not a formal strategy: rather, it was a nebulous mix of coercive activity against Malaysia short of all-out war. In consequence, Confrontation was a multifaceted campaign fought by the Indonesians across several dimensions and in many arenas. The Borneo campaign was only one element of the broader Confrontation campaign. While the Borneo campaign took place in Sarawak and Sabah, the two provinces of East Malaysia (with additional concerns regarding the fate of Brunei), Confrontation was also played out through sabotage, subversion, and military landings against Malaya and Singapore, the constituent elements of West Malaysia; it was waged regionally through the political and military activities of the protagonists on and around the Indonesian archipelago; and it had an important international dimension, waged in such places as the UN, as the belligerents vied for the support of other states.
In Borneo itself the main challenge comprised two related elements. The first, which tends to be the focus of most analyses of the campaign, was the need to defeat cross-border operations originating from Indonesian Kalimantan. The second, which tends to be given less emphasis in accounts, was the threat from internal subversion. Here, the challenge was from the 20,000 or so Indonesian migrant workers and the substantial Chinese portions of the Sarawak and Sabah populations: 31% of the former and 28% of the latter. 8 The Chinese community provided the basis of support for the Clandestine Communist Organization (CCO), the government’s general label for Sarawak communists, actually mainly comprising groups associated with the Sarawak Communist Organization (SCO). These internal and external threats were related to one another: the British fear was that cross-border raiders would establish ‘liberated areas’ in Borneo that would act as a catalyst for, and cooperate with, internal subversion and rebellion. 9
The threat posed by Indonesian cross-border raids grew over time. In general, Indonesian raids were small-scale affairs. Initially, these raids comprised what the British called Indonesian Border Terrorists (IBTs): a catch-all term for irregulars based in Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo) that comprised a patchwork of militant groups including the TNKU (Tentara Nasional Kalimantan Utara, or North Borneo National Army), KONAS (Kommando Anak Sarwak, the Sons of Sarawak Commandos), and PGRS (Perth Anan Gerilja Rakyat Sarwak, or Sarawak People’s Guerrilla Defenders). The general failure of these operations led to two developments. First, over time, the Indonesians increased the amount of forces deployed along the frontier. For example, in late 1964 and early 1965, the Indonesians doubled the number of the troops deployed on the frontier. Second, the Indonesians altered their tactics. One trend was the increasing use made in operations of regular forces, especially marines and para-commandos. A second trend was a change in the type of incursions. Beginning with attempts at deep incursions and attacks on security force posts, by mid-1964 the bulk of Indonesian operations were attempts at shallow incursions so that attacks could be followed by rapid withdrawals across the border. Incursions were supplemented increasingly by harassing operations such as cross-border mortar attacks, and mining. 10 A typical month in Borneo (in this case March 1964) illustrates the nature of the Indonesian challenge. There were 42 ‘incidents’ in that month: of these, 26 involved security force contacts with Indonesian raiding forces. The other incidents included the arrest of an Indonesian suspect; Indonesians entering a border village; Indonesians surrounding a village and demanding food; Indonesians firing at helicopters; firing at Malaysian patrol vessels; a friendly fire incident; an Indonesian attack on an empty village; the burning down of a longhouse; and a surrender. The Indonesian forces involved in these acts were small: the largest numbered 80 personnel, but more than half of the contacts involved Indonesian forces of 10 or fewer personnel. In terms of composition, 33 of the 42 incidents involved IBTs; 2 involved mixed IBT/TNI forces; and 6 involved TNI forces alone (friendly fire caused the remaining incident). 11
II. A British Irregular Warfare Success
At the commencement of Confrontation, British troops were deployed to defend the frontier, to identify and defeat Indonesian incursions, and to reassure the local population. The standard mode of deployment was the platoon (later company) base: these bases were not designed to be static fortresses – indeed, they tended to be sited for political rather than tactical reasons to support local communities, to gather intelligence, and to provide a jumping-off point for patrols. 12 Great emphasis was placed on active and extended jungle patrols. Early on, British forces treated the Indonesian border as inviolable, relying on a defensive strategy of identifying and counter-attacking Indonesian raiders as they crossed the border. British forces would only commence major offensive action if Indonesia engaged in an overt act of aggression; this ‘overt aggression’ threshold was relatively high – it did not include isolated air intrusion, for example, nor did it automatically include an Indonesian air attack. 13
Meeting the Indonesian threat was far from easy. The geography of the Borneo theatre was extremely problematic. It was mainly primary jungle and mountains; there were few roads, except near the coast; and in the north-east the monsoon season brought up to 14 inches of rain a day. 14 Nor were the forces available to Borneo Headquarters lavish, given the size of the theatre of operations. The defence of Borneo began in September 1963 with 5 battalions and 1 headquarters; by the end of Confrontation this had increased to 12 battalions and 5 headquarters. Yet the frontier with Indonesian Borneo was nearly 1,000 miles long. Command relationships were also complex, since Britain did not, in theory, control the campaign: it was one of the tenets of Britain’s political strategy to highlight that the United Kingdom was acting in support of the Malaysian government and at its request. This necessitated a command hierarchy in which the Malaysian government was the final arbiter of policy and strategy. Perhaps more importantly, political considerations demanded a limited British response. One consideration was the need to avoid alienating international opinion by escalating the crisis. However, the second was the need to reconcile Britain’s seemingly irreconcilable short- and long-term objectives: to defeat Indonesia but to do so in ways that would allow Britain to establish a positive relationship with Indonesia in the future. Orthodox assessments of British efforts are clear on two things: the campaign was a success and that success rested on two key pillars – an effective framework of principles and politically modulated offensive action. 15 But while both of these latter pillars seemed to be effective enough tactically, actually this did not lead Borneo Headquarters to see the campaign as an effective one strategically.
The framework of principles was devised by General Sir Walter Walker, commander in Borneo from December 1962 to March 1965, and was based on his experiences during the Malayan emergency. These principles Walker referred to as his six ‘ingredients for success’, and they provided the themes around which the campaign in Borneo was constructed. The ‘six ingredients’ included: unified operations; winning the hearts and minds of the people; timely and accurate information; speed, mobility, and flexibility; base security; and domination of the jungle. 16 In spirit these reflected the principles devised by Robert Thompson for the conduct of operations during the Malayan emergency, notably in the focus put on the importance of the political aspects of the campaign and on the discriminate use of military power. 17 For example, joint action was promoted through the adoption of a committee system, along the lines of those used during the Malayan emergency, that brought together representatives of the military, police, and civilian authorities to discuss and coordinate activity. These structures for coordination were important because, despite the calls in some quarters for the imposition of martial law, Sarawak and Sabah remained under civilian control.
However, Walker’s principles embodied much that was tailored to Borneo’s particular conditions. As an example, there were important gaps in intelligence that were filled by organizational innovation. While the Police Special Branch could provide intelligence on developments within Borneo, it had no organization to create a broad intelligence picture in the jungle areas on or across the border. To fill this gap, a network of field intelligence officers was created that acted as the foundation of efforts to generate and collate intelligence on tactical conditions in the border areas. 18 An artillery intelligence organization was also created to locate enemy mortars and facilitate counter-battery fire. 19 Due weight was also given to the internal aspects of the Borneo intelligence campaign. In Sarawak, for example, Tim Hardy, first deputy and then head of Sarawak Special Branch, noted that Confrontation meant that ‘the once niggardly treasury came up with staggering amounts of ringgits to pay for thousands of new constables, prison warders, [and] propagandists’. Local capabilities were augmented by numbers of external personnel: British officers with regional experience; Malaysian Special Branch with experience of the Malayan emergency; military intelligence officers (MIOs); MI5; MI6; the CIA. 20
There were many other initiatives. For example, to improve mobility, each infantry battalion was given an integral unit air platoon or troop. This flexible decentralization of elements of the air support for the campaign facilitated the responsive provision of air mobility for companies that could be over a hundred miles away from its battalion headquarters. 21 To provide effective fire support required an especially dispersed use of artillery, often with a single gun as the fire unit. 22 The need for sustained border surveillance required what Major General George Lea, Walker’s successor, called ‘a completely different form of tactics’ for the SAS: shifting them from the para-trained reserve of the Malayan emergency to jungle patrolling in four-man teams for the purposes of intelligence gathering and hearts-and-minds activities. 23
However, perhaps the single most important innovation was the adoption in 1964 of a more offensive military strategy. Recognizing that principles such as ‘domination of the jungle’ could not be realized while the Indonesians could use Kalimantan as a sanctuary, Walker sought, and was given, the authority for a progressively more robust series of cross-border activities designed to wrest the military initiative from the Indonesians and to demonstrate Britain’s commitment to defend Malaysia. In April 1964 the Cabinet agreed to allow retaliatory fire against Indonesian guns or mortars, and hot pursuit of Indonesian raiders was to be allowed up to 3,000 yards into Indonesian territory; a ‘pursuit’ could also include the deployment of ‘stop groups’ ahead of retreating Indonesian forces. 24 On 1 July 1964 Walker was sanctioned to engage in ‘credibly deniable offensive patrols’, including laying ambushes along laterals and known approaches up to 3,000 yards into Indonesian Kalimantan. Credibly deniable operations were those which the British government defined as being where the Indonesians ‘cannot prove that the border has been crossed. It is moreover one which Soekarno, on the assumption that he does not wish for escalation, can afford, without unacceptable loss of face, to treat no more seriously than present activities.’ 25 This decision led to the initiation of Operation Claret, a campaign of secret, and therefore deniable, cross-border attacks on Indonesian forces in Kalimantan. The decision in January 1965 to allow a further extension in deniable operations to 10,000 yards established the basic form for cross-border operations for the remainder of the undeclared war against Indonesia: deniable operations with a focus on covert offensive activities against Indonesian forces and installations near the frontier with Malaysia. 26
Deniable military operations produced remarkable tactical military outcomes. At a quadripartite meeting in May 1965, for example, Britain painted for its US, Australian, and New Zealand allies a relatively rosy picture of the situation in Borneo, noting that casualty ratios were heavily in the Commonwealth favour: 365 Indonesians killed, 109 wounded, and 631 captured, as opposed to 77 allied killed, 105 wounded, and none captured. 27 The message from Walker and his subordinates from Borneo was that cross-border operations had had a very positive effect – Walker was ‘certain’ that they had ‘bought time’ and had ‘forced the enemy on to the defensive’. 28 What seemed particularly efficacious was that British military activity appeared closely conditioned by political imperatives; General Walker, for example, was clear that ‘the political factor … must be paramount and the services must accept this’. 29 For this reason Walker noted that ‘some measures which might on military grounds be thought desirable must therefore be excluded’. 30 The result was a tactical and operational level military strategy that appeared closely related to political developments; for example, in late February 1965 offensive cross-border operations were suspended for a period of time in response to a Malaysian desire to facilitate the success of prospective talks at Bangkok. 31
Walker was clear that the Borneo campaign was a signal British success, arguing that: ‘It was a strange war, an undeclared war and an unknown war. Nevertheless it was a most successful one.’ 32 Indeed, for Walker, Claret operations, in particular, had ‘changed the fortunes of the war for both the Indonesians and their Commonwealth opponents’. 33 British tactical success was described by Walker after the war as something that ‘brought the Indonesians to the conference table in 1966’. 34 The image of heavily outnumbered Commonwealth forces thwarting skilfully the relentless attacks of a committed enemy is well entrenched in the literature on Borneo operations. The journalist Tom Pocock, briefed by Walker in Borneo in 1964, noted of his experience that it ‘reminded me of one of those Hollywood thrillers in which the hero, rapier in hand, fights and defeats enemies rushing him from all directions’. 35 Tactically, Confrontation is often seen as an exemplar in relation to the staple principles of successful low-intensity operations: political control; unity of objectives; effective joint and combined operations; obtaining and sustaining popular support; intelligence; and discrimination. 36 This image of success is reinforced by accounts of participating soldiers, especially those involved in cross-border operations, accounts that highlight the difficulty of the task facing British and Commonwealth forces, and their courage and resourcefulness despite appalling conditions. 37
III. Borneo Headquarters and the Narrative of Failure
It is important to understand that the conduct of the Borneo campaign was not without problems, a point ignored in much of the existing analysis. Of note was the tendency of those involved at the beginning of the campaign to take the lessons of the Malayan emergency and transplant them wholesale into the Borneo environment with sometimes unfortunate results. As Major General George Lea, Walker’s successor as commander in Borneo, noted: ‘The Borneo Campaign had certain special features peculiar to itself and it took many who were concerned a long time to appreciate that what was right for the Malayan emergency was not necessarily the right answer for Borneo.’ 38 For example, one consequence of this tendency was that, somewhat perversely perhaps, the Borneo campaign was in some respects too joint. One of Lea’s conclusions was that ‘Many mistakes were made in the early part of the campaign as a result of an unrealistic attempt to run everything as a joint campaign.’ 39 As noted already, in Borneo there were two campaigns: one against internal subversives and the other against cross-border guerrillas. These two campaigns were clearly linked, but they required different techniques and priorities and they fell more clearly into different spheres of activity. The internal threat was more obviously a police and civilian campaign, whereas the border war was more evidently a military responsibility. Lea believed that one of the lessons of Borneo was the need to draw a much clearer distinction between the police and the military in the conduct of operations against irregular opposition. 40 There were also tensions between the army and air force on the extent to which assets should be devolved to local army commanders. 41
Other aspects of the campaign were also problematic. For example, it is clear that the relationship between the military and police was not always harmonious. Tim Hardy’s list of complaints against the military is an interesting one. In the intelligence sphere the military intelligence officers were, from a Sarawak Special Branch point of view, ‘more a millstone … than a helping hand’; underemployed in the border war they amused themselves instead by interfering in the struggle against the Sarawak communists. 42 Moreover, from a Special Branch perspective, the military officers, including Walker, seemed fixated on the internal threat in Sarawak, a threat that Special Branch believed was well in hand. The Special Branch spent what Hardy described as ‘hour after wearisome hour’ fighting off military pressure for Malayan-emergency-style initiatives such as the ‘regrouping’ and ‘resettling’ of ethnic Chinese villages. 43 Even the hearts-and-minds aspects of the campaign were judged only a qualified success. On the one hand, a focus on small team engagement with local villages in the border areas paid dividends in terms of intelligence and the denial of logistic support to the Indonesians. It was recognized, though, that while these activities were valuable in gaining the support of the locals for the fight against Indonesia, they did not succeed in building support for the idea of Malaysia itself – indeed, one conclusion was that the hearts-and-minds campaign was too British and that a greater role should have been given to Malaysians. 44
Moreover, a balanced assessment of Britain’s operations in Borneo needs to put British successes in context. One part of this context were the advantages possessed by Britain in constructing its campaign. As in Kenya and Malaya, for example, the campaign was conducted in an arena in which there was a developed government infrastructure (including police forces) and in which the majority of the population was either loyal or at least quiescent.
45
It was recognized that circumstances allowed the use of strategies, such as the dispersal of forces into outposts near the frontier, which in other conditions might have invited piecemeal defeat.
46
Moreover, war is relational: Britain also benefited from Indonesian weaknesses. The systemic difficulties that afflicted Indonesia’s armed forces were evident in their previous campaign of Konfrontasi against the Dutch in West New Guinea. Although the campaign as a whole was a success politically, in which Indonesia was able to protract the conflict long enough for international opinion to turn decisively against the Dutch, militarily, the Indonesians had been defeated comprehensively.
47
During Confrontation, the Indonesian military’s efforts were hampered by the marked lack of enthusiasm displayed by the army in prosecuting the conflict.
48
Moreover, in Borneo, Hardy noted that: Their communications were pitiable; there were no roads, they had nowhere near enough river craft to permit easy movement and only one of the six Russian helicopters in Indonesian Borneo was ever able to fly, and even then only when fuel was available. Once in the ‘war zone’, the unfortunate askar would be there ‘for the duration’, undernourished, cut off from family, scared, ill-housed, badly protected and poorly motivated.
49
But no military campaign ever goes perfectly, and none of the aforementioned issues negated the fact that Indonesia could make no decisive tactical progress during the conflict. So why, then, did Borneo Headquarters, the organization that was immediately responsible for running the campaign, come to believe that it was losing?
The reasons for this can be judged by examining the period from June to November 1966. For existing analyses of operations in Borneo, this period marks the final triumph of British military operations: sustained negotiations between Malaysia and Indonesia took place; Indonesian cross-border attacks withered away; the last abortive Indonesian assault, launched in July, was comprehensively crushed by September, with the entire force being killed or captured; and Confrontation was brought to an end on 11 August with a formal peace settlement in which Indonesia agreed to cease Confrontation and to recognize the state of Malaysia. The outcome of elections due in Sarawak and Sabah in 1967 would be taken as sufficient indication of the acceptance of their inhabitants to inclusion in Malaysia. Subsequent to this, Indonesian regular forces in Kalimantan began to be withdrawn, which reduced the garrison to peacetime levels. At the same time, relations collapsed between the Indonesians and the communist Chinese that made up a substantial portion of the border IBTs. This was a result of the Indonesian army’s campaign to destroy the PKI, which began in late 1965. For Borneo Headquarters the period of political negotiations led, according to Major General Lea, ‘to a marked reduction of overt offensive action by Indonesian regular forces against East Malaysia’, 50 and in those attacks that did occur the security forces made evident their tactical superiority over the Indonesians. Thus, from June to August 1966 there were only 14 Indonesian incursions, half of these in the first month. Total security force losses amounted to one killed and one wounded, against which the Indonesians lost 8 killed, 2 wounded, and 35 captured, along with 15 surrenders. 51
However, the documentary evidence on the perceptions of Borneo Headquarters paints a very different picture. Paradoxically, while in hindsight Indonesian strategy actually seems to have been incoherent, Borneo Headquarters did not believe this to be the case at the time. Instead, British officers took wildly divergent evidence and, believing that the Indonesians must surely have an overarching plan, created in their own minds the image of an Indonesian enemy with a subtle and sophisticated political-military strategy. In consequence, far from seeing the political settlement of 11 August as a triumphant finale to a successful campaign, Borneo Headquarters’ conclusion was that Indonesia had not changed its objectives; it had merely changed its methods. Borneo Headquarters believed that the Indonesians had signed the Bangkok agreement as a mechanism to rid themselves of the challenge of British, Australian, and New Zealand opposition, and they would focus their continued operations on the activities of irregulars, with a leavening of special forces. General Lea’s view was that while it is hoped that the Indonesians will honour this agreement … the omens are not good in East Malaysia. During the past 6 months there has been a growing volume of evidence that the Indonesians intend to continue their efforts to disrupt Malaysia after confrontation, not only by political means but by using irregular troops backed up by specially trained regulars in a subversive role.
52
Even by November 1966 Borneo Headquarters concluded that there had been no developments that would change its earlier assessment that the Indonesians continued to be bent on the objective of absorbing East Malaysia. British tactical success in defeating larger-scale incursions had merely led the Indonesians to change their methods, but had not altered the ultimate goal. 53 Paradoxically, then, even while it was actually on the brink of a major military success, Borneo Headquarters believed that Britain was on the verge of political defeat.
The foundation of Borneo Headquarters’ negative assessment lay in its interpretation of Indonesian intentions. Fundamentally, Borneo Headquarters’ success in defeating the Indonesians tactically seemed not to have had any impact on their commitment to continue Konfrontasi; Confrontation was too deeply ingrained in Indonesian policy. Thus, Walker was pessimistic about the campaign, his pessimism built on the apparent unwillingness of the Indonesians to compromise politically. 54 Even after the coup of October 1965, Major General Lea was of the opinion that ‘any Indonesian Government will continue military confrontation against Malaysia and Singapore, although there may be a lull as a result of the recent internal upheavals’. 55 Even in March 1966 Lea was still of the opinion that ‘There are no indications to show that the recent events in Djakarta will lead to any major change in Indonesian policy on Confrontation.’ 56 Moreover, wider conditions seemed also unfavourable. Singapore had exited the Malaysian Federation in August 1965. The consequent tensions that existed between Malaysia and Singapore seemed ripe for exploitation by Indonesia. At the same time, Britain faced serious economic difficulties, with growing pressure for defence cuts in the Far East. 57
Nor was it clear that Indonesian tactical defeats were being recognized strategically. The secrecy of many of the British operations meant that there was no uncontested evidence of the catalogue of Indonesian military failures. Even before Britain had begun cross-border operations, Sukarno had claimed that British forces were engaged in offensive operations and that these were being defeated by the Indonesians. 58 As to the actual outcomes of the tactical military campaign, it was believed by the senior theatre military commander that ‘subordinates who conceal or distort the true situation have probably convinced Sukarno himself that the military activities have had some success’. 59 But it is not clear that even Indonesian ‘subordinates’ regarded the campaign entirely as a failure. The pattern of cross-border operations may also have contributed to Indonesian perceptions. The fact that Commonwealth operations involved only temporary incursions allowed some in the Indonesian military, at least, to argue that they had been successful in repelling Commonwealth attacks. 60 But it is also possible that Indonesian and British judgements on the outcomes of tactical action were not always in accord with one another. For example, in April 1965 Indonesian RPKAD (Resimen Para Komando Angkatan Darat, Army Para-Commando Regiment) special forces attacked a British border outpost at Plaman Mapu. This attack was ‘repulsed successfully’. 61 Popular British accounts paint the action in Rorke’s Drift-esque terms: an under-strength British platoon fighting off repeated attacks by an entire Indonesian special forces battalion, inflicting hundreds of casualties. 62 But the attack was actually launched by a single Indonesian company: it heavily damaged the outpost, and inflicted two dead and seven seriously wounded on the British defenders at a cost of two dead and five wounded. The RPKAD’s senior officers regarded the action as a striking success, and many of the officers involved were promoted. 63
In consequence, and contrary to orthodox views, there was in private a general air of pessimism on the part of the British military regarding the conduct of Confrontation. By late 1965, planners in the British Ministry of Defence took the view that the existing strategy pursued by Britain had ‘had little effect on Indonesia’s aims or on her capability to sustain or even to increase the present level of confrontation’. 64 At the same time, the senior theatre military officer, Air Marshal John Grandy, Commander-in-Chief, Far East (CINCFE), argued that Sukarno was ‘taking the West for a big ride on the basis that confrontation cost him nothing and suited him very well despite the fact that we have the capacity of inflicting military defeat on all three Indonesian arms in a very short space of time. Where is our non-escalation policy getting us?’ 65 In this context it is also significant that the Claret operations were not viewed by General Walker at the time as in any way decisive: the secret, deniable Claret operations were seen by him as the necessary precursor to larger-scale, undeniable operations by the military: only the latter would really have an impact. For Walker, deniable operations were important because they would ‘put the enemy more on the defensive than he is at present and will cause him some disruption to his incursions’. But they could not be decisive, precisely because to remain deniable they had to remain very limited. Walker’s firm belief was that Claret operations would never be sufficient to defeat the Indonesian enemy; he argued instead that ‘more extensive operations will be necessary to deny him safe havens and freedom of action on his side of the border and to forestall attacks’. On this basis ministers were pressed to allow undeniable operations into Kalimantan to a depth of up to 5 miles, an approach that, in the event, they refused to sanction. 66 Walker believed that Britain faced the prospect of ‘a long drawn-out guerrilla campaign of the Malaya type’ unless some significant change in the British approach was enacted. 67
The problem, fundamentally, was that Confrontation seemed to cost the Indonesians less than it cost Britain. In consequence, General Walker did not at the time see existing British tactical approaches as decisive. Walker’s pessimism led him to argue consistently for the need to escalate the use of military force. Tactical operations moved from being entirely defensive, with no violations of the Indonesian border, through to hot pursuit of Indonesian raiders retreating back across the border to a distance of 3,000 yards, sanctioned in April 1964; offensive patrolling into Kalimantan to a depth of 3,000 yards, sanctioned from 1 July 1964, allowed British forces to patrol, conduct reconnaissance, and lay ambushes. In January 1965 this was extended to 5,000 yards, and later to 10,000 and even 20,000 yards for some operations. 68 Despite later terming these as his ‘knock out weapon’, 69 Walker did not at the time view secret, deniable operations as sufficient to gain victory. For the Director of Borneo Operations, deniable operations could ‘gain a limited amount of time in which to achieve the right political background for more extensive operations which would be undeniable’. 70 Walker actually wanted overt cross-border attacks into Indonesia to destroy such targets as Indonesian troop concentrations, staging posts, rest areas, and supply dumps. To be successful these operations would require air support and might need to attack into Indonesian territory to a depth of 5 miles. 71
It is worth noting that Borneo Headquarters was not alone in its pessimism. British policymakers had concluded by late 1965 that a negotiated settlement was required with Indonesia, irrespective of Malaysian wishes. However, Britain’s allies, especially the US, effectively vetoed this as an option, afraid, among other things, that this would look internationally like a pro-communist regime had defeated a Western power just as the US commitment in Vietnam was escalating. 72 Even as British forces began their withdrawal from Borneo after the August 1966 peace agreement, it was still believed by British policymakers that a recurrence of Indonesian aggression was a distinct possibility, the key being, then, to get British forces out of Malaysia sufficiently quickly that, if Confrontation did begin again, meeting it would not be a specifically British responsibility. 73
Borneo Headquarters therefore was pessimistic in its outlook. This pessimism then shaped, and reinforced, its interpretation of other more concrete evidence gained as the fruits of its tactical successes. The evidence included, in particular, documents and interrogations that resulted from the successful defeat of Indonesian cross-border operations. In the period from June 1966 onwards two incidents, in particular, were of significance. The first was an incursion by 30 enemies in June 1966 into the Bau district of Sarawak, covered by West Brigade. The second, in late July, was an incursion by 50 men, led by a Lieutenant Sumbi, into the Central Brigade area. Both of these incursions were soundly defeated. The first, known as the ‘Manjar’ incursion, was composed of two teams of 15 personnel, each a mixed group of Indonesian regulars (drawn in this case from 514 battalion of the TNI), the RPKAD, and irregulars from the TNKU. The second, the Kelabang team, also comprised a mix of regulars, special forces, and irregulars. The Kelabang team has a particular significance to orthodox narratives since it is often identified as the last Indonesian incursion. Crossing the border on the evening of 29/30 July, Sumbi himself wasn’t captured until 3 September, more than three weeks after the peace settlement had been concluded. 74
Neither of these Indonesian attacks might have seemed to be especially dangerous or important, especially given that negotiations between Malaysia and Indonesia were ongoing and an end to Confrontation seemed imminent. What was crucial about these incursions, however, was the intelligence gained from them in terms of captured documents and interrogation of prisoners. This intelligence seemed to indicate categorically a number of things. First, these operations were conducted with longer-term goals. The Manjar incursions were tasked with preparing pockets of resistance inside East Malaysia. Once these pockets had been established, they would set about aiding other infiltration groups, making contact with local subversives, and engaging in subversive actions themselves: economic sabotage, attacks on military bases and logistics, attacking communications, and attacking critical infrastructure such as Kuching airport and harbour oil facilities. 75 The Kelabang team was tasked with establishing a base area where weapons could be stored and a training camp for local volunteers established. The team would then conduct activities designed to foment anti-Malaysian and anti-British sentiment. 76
Second, these operations seemed to have been sanctioned higher up the Indonesian chain of command. The Manjar teams were under the command of the Mandau Task Force, one of the higher-level Indonesian headquarters; the forces were also led and trained by RPKAD forces, directly under army command. Borneo Headquarters therefore took the view that the operations must have been sanctioned ‘at a high level’ and ‘in spite of the present political situation’. 77 Interrogations yielded the information that both incursion forces had been given briefings by senior commanders before they crossed border. Those that briefed the Manjar teams included the commander of the RPKAD, Brigadier Darwedo Edie from Jakarta, and an officer from the Mandau Task Force Command. 78 Edie had told them that ‘although the Malaysia people had been told that confrontation was over, the Indonesians had not’. 79 Lieutenant Sumbi, the leader of the Kelabang team, was briefed by the headquarters of Sumpit Joint Task Force Command. 80 The Sumpit command’s commander-in-chief was Brigadier General Mung, an officer of the RPKAD, which again indicated that his operation seemed to have been sanctioned at a senior level.
Third, these operations seemed designed specifically to manipulate the ongoing peace process. In other words the Indonesians were not negotiating in good faith. The intelligence gained from the Sumbi incursion was especially important in this regard. On interrogation, Sumbi revealed that when he was briefed, he was informed both by the chief of staff and the head of intelligence for Sumpit Headquarters that the Indonesian intention was to absorb the Borneo states into Indonesia, whether or not Confrontation ended and whether or not Sarawak and Sabah voted in elections to remain within Malaysia. Explicitly, Sumbi was informed that: ‘The ending of Confrontation was designed to bring about a withdrawal of overseas Commonwealth troops and leave a relatively weak Malaysian Army without support.’ 81 The intelligence gained from Sumbi revealed to Borneo Headquarters a Machiavellian plan for manipulating the Malaysians once British forces had withdrawn. Indonesia planned to implement a three-phase operation, codenamed ‘Ngaiauniting’. In phase one, the Kelabang team and eight other Indonesian infiltration teams would be sent across the border to establish liberated pockets within East Malaysia. These would make contact with local subversive groups and would then carry out reconnaissance for phase two. In that phase, to begin around November 1966 once Commonwealth forces had withdrawn, the infiltrated forces would conduct terrorist attacks and sabotage against such targets as the Seria oilfields, radio stations, and Tawau airfield. The Indonesians would then push the Malaysians to establish a joint defence conference in East Malaysia to discuss joint Indonesian-Malaysian cooperation to deal with ‘Communist inspired internal unrest’. During this conference the Indonesian forces from phase one would conduct a terrorist attack near the delegation and Indonesia would bring in regular troops to ensure the security of their delegation. The Indonesians would also press the Malaysians to establish ‘joint defence posts’ on the border, which would allow them to bring even more troops onto Malaysian soil. 82
In phase three of the Ngaiauniting operation, the pockets established in phase one would promote a general rebellion in East Malaysia. More Indonesian troops would then cross the border under the pretext of pursuing communist insurgents. To do this, Indonesian battalions would cross with their lead company dressed as communist irregulars; the remaining companies would then cross in pursuit of these ‘communists’. According to the Indonesian plan, noted Borneo Headquarters, ‘ideally, the Malaysians would accept these troops as reinforcements to the Joint Forces until the very day when Indonesian occupation was proclaimed’. 83 Further, Sumbi had been informed that: ‘Whatever happens, the three Phases of the plan are to be implemented,’ and that ‘once started there is no going back until all Borneo is Indonesian’. 84 In retrospect, these Indonesian plans seem ludicrously fanciful, but at the time Borneo Headquarters was convinced of their veracity. As has already been noted, the headquarters was already primed to believe that Indonesian intentions continued to be malign. In mid-July the Manjar incursions had already led Major General Lea to conclude that: ‘These incursions appear to be part of an Indonesian policy to continue confrontation by covert means.’ 85 Borneo Headquarters noted that: ‘In general terms, Sumbi’s account of Indonesian intentions confirms our earlier assessment that the Indonesians were using the end of confrontation as a cover to obtain by other means what they had failed to achieve by overt hostilities.’ 86 But other factors reinforced this tendency towards pessimism.
One was the nature of the interrogation carried out on the Indonesian prisoners. Sumbi, for example, held out for four days before he gave up his information, which led experienced interrogators to the conclusion that: ‘There is little doubt that Sumbi has endeavoured to give an accurate account of all that he was told during the briefing he received at Sumpit Command on 20 July.’ 87 That it might seem odd that very junior officers should be given such knowledge of Indonesia’s strategic intent was explained both by the Indonesian military’s ‘somewhat lax attitude towards security generally’ and also by the fact that, if the plan worked and the incursions did manage to establish bases in East Malaysia, then such officers as Sumbi would have significant responsibility under conditions in which they might have very limited means of communicating with higher levels of command. 88 Overall, Sumbi’s intelligence was assessed by Borneo Headquarters ‘as being an authoritative indication as to Indonesia’s intentions and the tactical operations to be undertaken’. 89
Another reason to believe this information was that complementary intelligence appeared to be obtained from cross-border sources. In July 1966, for example, reports were received of the visit of a senior TNKU officer to a TNKU unit in Kalimantan. At this meeting, the TNKU troops were told that: ‘In October all the British will have left and we will return to Sarawak. You are our people and must not speak of this to anyone … the Indonesian Govt will help us with arms and ammo. Although confrontation is over, we will never stop fighting.’ As a British report noted, ‘His speech confirms our assessment of the Indonesian post-confrontation policy but this is the first report of the enemy openly looking to the withdrawal of British forces to give them their opportunity.’
90
Taken together, the Manjar and Kelabang incursions seemed to paint a grim picture of future Indonesian operations. For Borneo Headquarters: These incursions appear to be a part of an Indonesian policy to continue confrontation by covert means. They intend to infiltrate parties of special regular and irregular troops deep inside Sarawak and Sabah. There they will establish themselves in areas where they hope to receive local support. Their tasks at first will be to obtain intelligence and carry out subversion. It would appear that they will eventually receive further reinforcements and equipment with which to mount a campaign of sabotage and terrorism with the intention of undermining the Government.
91
These assumptions provided the context in which a range of other sources of information were then interpreted to provide additional supporting evidence. One issue was that the long borders and difficult terrain made it difficult to provide certainty on when incursions had or had not taken place. Thus, though the actual number of incursions identified was low, the number of possible incursions was believed to be higher, and changes in the deployment of enemy forces suggested a commitment to continued aggression. It certainly seemed to Borneo Headquarters that from June 1966 onwards there remained a lot of preparatory Indonesian activity: sudden increases in cross-border trading that might well be the results of spies being sent across the border, and evidence even into September and October 1966 of shallow Indonesian reconnaissance across the border. 92 More than a month after the ratification of the Bangkok settlement, Lea concluded that: ‘The evidence of continuing intelligence gathering activity along the borders of Sarawak and Sabah is an indication that a policy of infiltration by small groups is still being pursued by superior Indonesian headquarters. There is no evidence that the threat to East Malaysia and Brunei has yet diminished.’ 93 By the first week of October, Lea noted that, since the peace agreement had been signed, incursions had occurred all across the Borneo front. 94 Indeed the Kelabang incursion under Sumbi was not, in fact, the final Indonesian incursion in strength. That dubious honour went to the ‘Kinbalu Company’. This incursion, into the Tawau Residency of Sabah, was launched on 26 August. From that point until mid-September, up to 6 parties totalling at least 40 TNKU, were infiltrated across the border. 95 Indeed, in September 1966 Borneo Headquarters reported three Indonesian land incursions and four border reconnaissances. 96 For Borneo Headquarters, implicit in these incursions was that they had to have been sanctioned by higher Indonesian commands. Since the Indonesian incursions seemed to emanate from at least two different Indonesian command areas, the implication taken was that the operations must have resulted from a policy directive issued from Jakarta: it could not simply be individual commands operating independently. 97
At the same time, this continued activity was accompanied by an apparent reorganization of the Indonesian border forces. In the wake of the peace settlement, Indonesia seemed to be withdrawing many regular battalions. However, the number of irregular troops was not being reduced in the same manner. Instead, irregular forces seemed to be in the process of being re-concentrated, re-equipped, and retrained. These irregulars seemed to be being moulded into a new force of Sukarelawan ‘combat volunteers’. 98 Evidence emerged of a new irregular umbrella organization, the North Kalimantan National Command or KONAKU (Komando Nasional Kalimantan Utara) under which these forces might operate. Moreover, the Indonesians appeared to have created a new type of force, the Pasanda (undercover) force, comprising irregulars and RPKAD personnel and controlled by a new ‘Pasanda Command’. Accompanied by the reduction in the number of border incursions and the signing by Indonesia of the Bangkok agreement, this seemed to Borneo Headquarters to signal a change in Indonesian strategy: a shift from a focus on regular army forces to operations by mixed special forces and irregulars. This new approach signalled for Borneo Headquarters ‘a serious threat to the security of Sabah and Sarawak, particularly after there has been a reduction in the numbers of Security Forces in East Malaysia’. 99 In this context the reduction in the number of regular Indonesian battalions in Kalimantan was not seen as a positive development. As a report from late July 1966 noted, the drawdown in TNI troop units ‘is consistent with our assessment that the enemy is going to use PASANDA type forces for confrontation and that regular units will no longer be committed to active ops’. 100 From the perspective of Borneo Headquarters, it seemed probable that ‘Indonesia now hopes to obtain the breakup of the Federation through influencing the outcome of the forthcoming elections but … in case this plan fails, she is building up in Kalimantan the type of regular-trained and regular-led guerrilla force that she used in 1963.’ 101 The quality of the equipment being given to the irregulars and the presence of RPKAD personnel again seemed to suggest that this was a plan of operations sanctioned at a high level.
Adding to the pessimism felt by Borneo Headquarters were fears about the internal situation in Sarawak. The growing tensions between the Indonesians and their former Chinese irregular allies seemed to be a double-edged sword. Increasingly it seemed likely to Borneo Headquarters that, as the TNKU proper was surplus to requirements with the creation of the Pasanda forces, and with the Chinese irregulars increasingly fearful of their former Indonesian allies, it was probable that these forces would cross back into East Malaysia. Indeed, reports in June 1966 indicated that the TNI planned to send all the Chinese irregulars back into Sarawak. 102 Internally, this prospect seemed to galvanize the CCO. In late June, Sarawak intelligence indicated that the CCO was being warned to prepare for the imminent return of ‘revolutionary fighters’. 103 In early July, West Brigade headquarters was warning that all was not well: ‘It appears that Communist influence in the rear areas is becoming more widespread.’ 104 The Sarawak Constabulary reinforced this assessment, arguing that ‘The past three months have seen marked … activity within First Division with particular emphasis on the preparation for the reception of Sarawak Chinese militant groups from across the border. This trend will probably continue with the cessation of Indonesian military confrontation.’ 105 By November 1966 the situation was assessed as ‘potentially serious’, with communists continuing their preparations for armed struggle, including training, the gathering of arms and equipment, the establishing of weapon caches and hides, and continued subversive activity among the Chinese. 106
All these factors meant that other Indonesian post-settlement activities that may well, in retrospect, have been innocently intended were woven by Borneo Headquarters into the broader tapestry of a sophisticated Indonesian grand plan to absorb East Malaysia. For example, after the signing of the peace settlement the Indonesians noted that 200 ex-TNKU personnel wished to return to East Malaysia, and asked the Malaysians to allow this. British assessments argued that the likelihood of 200 TNKU volunteering to return was low and that, in consequence, the likely Indonesian plan was to recruit 200 irregulars that could be passed off as ex-TNKU, using this as an opportunity to infiltrate more fifth columnists into East Malaysia. 107 Similarly, after 11 August elements from regular Indonesian units began trying to make contact with security force units on the Malaysian side of the border. Some sent letters, asking for meetings or to establish joint patrols. In other cases TNI personnel wandered across to Malaysian border posts, some in uniform and others in civilian clothes. 108 For Borneo Headquarters ‘the dangers inherent in this are obvious’, it being entirely possible that these were simply attempts by the Indonesian army to find which crossing tracks were still under security force surveillance. There were also worries that, if several of these Indonesian crossings had been spotted, how many might not have been? 109 In this climate of suspicion, even visits to Kalimantan by senior Indonesian officers took on more sinister overtones. On 15 September, for example, intelligence indicated the arrival in Kalimantan of five staff officers from Jakarta: this was taken to indicate that they might be engaged in the more general reappraisal of Indonesian military operations. 110 Indeed, in this context, the reduction in incursions by the regular Indonesian forces was taken as a malign indication, not a positive sign for the future. Having had no success with its regular force operations, Borneo Headquarters assessed that the Indonesians were clearly ceasing this kind of activity, withdrawing many of their regulars, and switching to a strategy focused on a mix of irregular and special forces troops. Future infiltration would instead be undertaken by small groups of irregulars, some unarmed and disguised as civilians. The aim would be intelligence gathering and to influence the population to vote against the federation in the forthcoming elections. 111
IV. Conclusion
Thus, the peace settlement of 11 August 1966 was for the British military actually only a retrospective victory. Britain was winning Confrontation, but the military thought that it was losing. In terms of its tactical military conduct, Confrontation is widely regarded in the existing literature as an extraordinary success. Indeed, in many respects it did demonstrate the British military at a peak in its tactical effectiveness in unconventional warfare. British and allied forces rebuffed successive Indonesian infiltration attempts, inflicted disproportionate casualties, and avoided escalation. As this article has shown, however, this was not the view of Borneo Headquarters at the time. In Borneo itself the British military view was that Commonwealth tactical success had not defeated the Indonesians: rather, it had simply encouraged them to change their strategy. The peace agreement of 11 August 1966 was not for Major General Lea the final formal recognition by Indonesia of its defeat. Instead, the political settlement was part of a complex Indonesian plan to attain their unaltered objective: the absorption of East Malaysia into Indonesia. Borneo Headquarters’ view was shaped to an extent by more general pessimism about the political performance of British military operations. But the crucial evidence for Indonesian mendacity lay in the evidence provided by the Indonesians themselves: their actions, captured documents, and the results of the interrogation of captured soldiers. In the final report published by Lea on Borneo operations, dated January 1967, he noted that Indonesia appeared to be pursuing a ‘dual policy of establishing peaceful relations with Malaysia whilst simultaneously endeavouring to secure North Borneo by covert means’. 112
The views of Borneo Headquarters seem in retrospect extraordinary, given that none of its fears came to pass. The Bangkok agreement did indeed signal the end of Confrontation, and the doom-laden prognostications of senior British officers came to nothing. But the evidence upon which Borneo Headquarters reached its conclusions was hardly circumstantial. It is possible that the dichotomy between Indonesia’s grand strategic behaviour, with its focus on the desirability of a timely and mutually acceptable political solution, and its tactical military intentions, as revealed by captured documents and interrogations, could have been the result of a Machiavellian coercive strategy, with multivariant options pursued in parallel to maintain maximum flexibility. Given what we know about the internal politics of Indonesian decision-making, however, it is more plausible that Indonesia had no clearly crafted political-military means–ends chain that linked its various activities during the last stages of Confrontation, and that the relationship between the tactical, operational, and strategic levels of activity was in the Indonesian case chaotic, disaggregated, and ad hoc. 113 If any Indonesian leaders were vexed by this, they might have been reassured if they had had access to the deliberations of Borneo Headquarters, because the latter had invented for the Indonesians a coherent strategy.
Borneo Headquarters’ situation demonstrates the often paradoxical nature of strategy, the relational and human psychological dimensions leading a belligerent to interpret the apparent inconsistencies in an opponent’s strategy as the fruit of an especially intelligent relationship between means and ends. Influenced by pre-existing perceptions of Indonesian intentions, Borneo Headquarters took incoherent Indonesian political and military actions, and imposed on them a coherent strategy of diabolical cleverness. In doing so a mental image was created of a patient and perceptive opponent, fully cognizant of British weaknesses, and this assessment imbued Indonesian strategy with a potency that, in retrospect, it did not have.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
My thanks go to Dr Deborah Sanders, Dr Stuart Griffin, and Dr Robert Foley for their comments on drafts of this article, and to the very helpful suggestions provided by the anonymous reviewers.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
The analysis, opinions, and conclusions expressed or implied in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the UK Defence Academy, the UK MoD, or any other government agency.
1
The campaign involved important contributions from Malaysia, Australia, and New Zealand. See, for example, Peter Edwards and Gregory Pemberton, Crises and Commitments: The Politics and Diplomacy of Australia’s Involvement in Southeast Asian Conflicts, 1948–1965 (North Sidney, Allen and Unwin, 1992).
2
General Sir Walter Walker, Fighting On (London, New Millennium, 1997), p. 151.
3
See, for example, Emile Simpson, War from the Ground Up: Twenty-First-Century Combat as Politics (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013), ch. 7.
4
See, for example, Paul Newton, Paul Colley and Andrew Sharpe, ‘Reclaiming the Art of British Strategic Thinking’, RUSI Journal CLV (2010), pp. 44–51.
5
The National Archives (TNA), FO 371/169902, Tel. No. 54, Djakarta to Foreign Office, 21 January 1963.
6
For excellent analyses of British objectives and strategy, see John Subritzky, Confronting Sukarno: British, American, Australian and New Zealand Diplomacy in the Malaysian-Indonesian Confrontation, 1961–65 (Basingstoke, MacMillan, 2000); Matthew Jones, Conflict and Confrontation in South East Asia, 1961–1965: Britain, the United States, Indonesia and the Creation of Malaysia (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2002); David Easter, Britain and the Confrontation with Indonesia, 1960–66 (London, Tauris, 2004).
7
J.A.C. Mackie, Konfrontasi: The Indonesia–Malaysia Dispute, 1963–66 ( London, Oxford University Press, 1974), pp. 132–9; Franklin B. Weinstein, Indonesia Abandons Confrontation: An Inquiry into the Functions of Indonesian Foreign Policy (Equinox, Jakarta, 2009); M.C. Ricklefs, A History of Modern Indonesia Since c.1200 (Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), pp. 294–311.
8
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
9
TNA, DEFE 5/144, COS 376/63, ‘Indonesian Confrontation of Malaysia’, 15 November 1963.
10
The most recent and detailed overview of military operations during Confrontation is provided by Nick Van der Bijl’s Confrontation: The War With Indonesia, 1962–66 (Barnsley, Pen and Sword, 2007). Other more standard accounts are contained in: Tom Pocock, Fighting General: The Public and Private Campaigns of General Sir Walter Walker (London, Collins, 1973), and Harold James and Denis Sheil-Small, The Undeclared War (London, Leo Cooper, 1971).
11
TNA, WO 305/1771, Incident Log, Malaysian Borneo, March 1964.
12
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
13
TNA, FO 371/173503, Waterfield, Minute to Arthur, 12 December 1963.
14
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
15
See E.D. Smith, Counter-Insurgency Operations: 1 – Malaya and Borneo (Shepperton, Ian Allen, 1985), pp. 101–5; James and Sheil-Small, Undeclared War, pp. 192–3; Pocock, Fighting General, p. 216; Sir Walter Walker, ‘Borneo’, British Army Review, No. 32 (August 1969), pp. 7–15; Van Der Bijl, Confrontation, pp. 241–3; Gregory Blaxland, The Regiments Depart: A History of the British Army, 1945–1970 (London, William Kimber, 1971), pp. 409–10; Denis Healey, The Time of My Life (London, Penguin, 1990), p. 289; Bryan Perrett, Canopy of War: Jungle Warfare from the Earliest Days of Fighting to the Battlefields of Vietnam (Wellingborough, Patrick Stephens, 1990), p. 128; Peter Dickens, SAS: Secret War in South-East Asia (New York, Ivy, 1983), p. 268; Robin Neillands, A Fighting Retreat: The British Empire 1947–97 (London, Hodder and Stoughton, 1996), p. 456; J.P. Cross, Jungle Warfare: Experiences and Encounters (London, Arms and Armour, 1989), p. 178; John D. Orme, The Paradox of Peace: Leaders, Decisions and Conflict Resolution (Basingstoke, Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), p. 60.
16
Walker, Fighting On, pp. 383–4.
17
For a discussion of these principles, see Thomas Mockaitis, British Counter-Insurgency 1919–1960 (New York, St Martin’s, 1990).
18
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
19
Ibid.
20
Tim Hardy, The Reluctant Imperialist (Singapore, Marshall Cavendish, 2009), pp. 273–5.
21
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
22
Ibid.
23
Ibid.
24
TNA, CAB 148/1, DO (64) 17th Meeting, 8 April 1964.
25
TNA, DEFE 13/385, MoD to CINCFE, COSSEA 143, 1 July 1964.
26
For a discussion of Claret operations, see Raffi Gregorian, ‘CLARET Operations and Confrontation, 1964–1966’, Conflict Quarterly (Winter 1991), pp. 46–72.
27
TNA, FO 371/184512, Brief No. 3, ‘Indonesia/Malaysia Background Brief, Four Power Ministerial Discussion’, 2 May 1965.
28
TNA, DEFE 13/475, CINCFE to MOD(UK), 18 February 1965.
29
General Sir Walter Walker, ‘How Borneo Was Won’, The Round Table (1969), p. 19.
30
TNA, DEFE 5/150, Annex to COS 124/64, ‘Report by the Director of Operations on the Situation in Eastern Malaysia’, 8 April 1964.
31
TNA, DEFE 13/475, CINCFE to MOD(UK), SEACOS 46, 24 February 1965.
32
Walker, Fighting On, p. 171.
33
Ibid., p. 167.
34
Ibid., p. 207.
35
Pocock, Fighting General, p. 10.
36
Maj. Peter J. Kramers, ‘Konfrontasi in Borneo, 1962–1966’, Military Review (November 1990), p. 72.
37
See, for example, Lofty Large, Soldier Against the Odds: From Korean War to SAS (Edinburgh, Mainstream, 1999); Peter Scholey, The Joker: 20 Years Inside the SAS (London, Andre Deutsch, 2000).
38
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
39
Ibid.
40
Ibid.
41
Proceedings of the Royal Air Force Historical Society, No. 13 (Royal Air Force Historical Society, 1994), pp. 45–6.
42
Hardy, Reluctant Imperialist, pp. 274 and 281.
43
Ibid., p. 288. See also Vernon L. Porritt, Operation Hammer: Enforced Resettlement in Sarawak in 1965 (University of Hull, Centre for Southeast Asian Studies, 2000).
44
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
45
Ibid.
46
Ibid.
47
Ken Conboy, Kopassus: Inside Indonesia’s Special Forces (Jakarta, Equinox, 2003), pp. 91–2.
48
Ibid., pp. 109–10; Harold Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia (Ithaca, NY, Cornell University Press, 1978), p. 73.
49
Hardy, Reluctant Imperialist, p. 284. See also Conboy, Kopassus, pp. 101–2.
50
TNA, WO 305/3327, DBO 0620 OPS, ‘Quarterly Operation Report 1 April – 30 June 1966’, 14 July 1966.
51
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to BDO 20922 INT, ‘Statistics for Operations in East Malaysia and Brunei from 1 June to 30 June 1966’, 7 July 1966; TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to BDO 20922 INT, ‘Statistics for Operations in East Malaysia and Brunei from 1 July to 31 July 66’, 4 August 1966; TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to CBF 20922 INT, ‘Statistics for Operations in East Malaysia and Brunei from 1 August to 31 August 1966’, 31 August 1966.
52
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘The Commander British Forces Borneo Weekly Assessment No. 33’, 13 August 1966.
53
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 7/66’, 5 November 1966.
54
TNA, DEFE 5/150, Annex D to COS 126/64, ‘Minutes of the ANZAM Defence Committee Meeting’, 17 March 1964.
55
TNA, DEFE 13/475, Annex A to COS 176/65, ‘Measures to Counter Indonesian Confrontation’, 21 October 1965.
56
TNA, WO 305/3326, ‘The Director of Borneo Operations Weekly Assessment of the Threat to East Malaysia and Brunei … 12 March – 18 March 1966’, 19 March 1966.
57
For the challenges facing British defence policy, see P.L. Pham, Ending ‘East of Suez’: The British Decision to Withdraw from Malaysia and Singapore, 1964–68 (Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2010).
58
TNA, DEFE 5/150, Annex B to COS 121/64, ‘Assessment of the Present Operational Situation in the Borneo States’, 8 April 1964; Van der Bijl, Confrontation, pp. 243–4.
59
TNA, DEFE 4/149, Annex to COS 73/64, ‘Indonesian Intentions and Prospects up to the End of 1966’ Particularly in Relation to the Malaysian Area’, 28 February 1964.
60
Christopher Bullock, Journeys Hazardous: Gurkha Clandestine Operations, Borneo 1965 (Worcester, Square One, 2000), p. 182.
61
TNA, DEFE 5/167, Annex B to CINCFE 5/66, ‘Report on Operations’, 1 March 1966.
62
Peter Harclerode, Para! Fifty Years of the Parachute regiment (London, Orion, 1998), pp. 261–5.
63
Conboy, Kopassus, pp. 104–5.
64
TNA, DEFE 13/475, Annex A to COS 176/65, ‘Measures to Counter Indonesian Confrontation’, 21 October 1965.
65
TNA, DEFE 25/170, CINCFE to CDS, SEACOS 201, 2 October 1965.
66
TNA, DEFE 5/153, Annex to COS 248/64, ‘Operations across the Indonesian Border’, 2 September 1964. These issues are discussed in more depth in Christopher Tuck, ‘“Cut the Bonds Which Bind Our Hands”: Deniable Operations during the Confrontation with Indonesia, 1963–1966’, Journal of Military History LXXII (2013), pp. 599–623.
67
See, for example, TNA, DEFE 5/150, Annex to COS 124/64, ‘Report by the Director of Operations on the Situation in Eastern Malaysia’, 10 April 1964.
68
TNA, CAB 148/1, DO (64), 19th Meeting, 29 April 1964; TNA, DEFE 5/155, COS 321/64, ‘Military Measures to Counter Indonesian Confrontation’, 30 December 1964; Walker, Fighting On, p. 170.
69
Walker, Fighting On, p. 144.
70
TNA, DEFE 5/152, Annex to COS 197/64, ‘Operations across the Indonesian Border’, 2 July 1964.
71
Ibid.
72
Easter, Britain and the Confrontation, pp. 152–4; Subritzky, Confronting Sukarno, pp. 162–71.
73
See, for example, TNA, CAB 148/28, OPD(O)(66)18, ‘Implications of the End of Confrontation’, 8 June 1966.
74
See, for example, TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex C to DBO 20762 INT, ‘Central Brigade’, 25 June 1966.
75
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 18 June 1966.
76
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘The Commander British Forces Borneo Weekly Assessment No. 37’, 18 June 1966.
77
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 18 June 1966.
78
TNA, WO 305/3327, DBO 20762 INT, ‘The Director of Borneo Operations Weekly Assessment No. 27’, 2 July 1966.
79
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 2 July 1966.
80
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘The Commander British Forces Borneo Weekly Assessment No. 37’, 10 September.
81
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to CBF 20762 INT, ‘Indonesian Intentions for East Malaysia and Brunei’, 10 September 1966.
82
Ibid.
83
Ibid.
84
Ibid.
85
TNA, WO 305/3327, DBO 0620 OPS, ‘Quarterly Operation Report, 1 April – 30 June 1966’, 14 July 1966.
86
TNA, WO 305/3327, Appendix 1 to Annex A to CBF 20762 INT, ‘Assessment of Lt Sumbi’s Field Interrogation’, 10 September 1966.
87
Ibid.
88
Ibid.
89
Ibid.
90
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 23 July 1966.
91
TNA, WO 305/3327, DBO 0620 OPS, ‘Quarterly Operation Report 1 April – 30 June 1966’, 14 July 1966.
92
See, for example, TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Assessment of the Threat to East Malaysia and Brunei and Summary of Activity during the Period 10 to 16 September 1966’, 17 September.
93
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 1/66’, 24 September 1966.
94
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 3/66’, 8 October 1966.
95
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex C to CBF 20762 INT, ‘5 Malaysia Infantry Brigade’, 15 October 1966; TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 7/66’, 5 November 1966.
96
TNA, WO 306/3327, Annex A to CBF 20922, ‘Statistics for Operations in East Malaysia and Brunei from 1–30 September, 1966’, 7 October 1966.
97
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 3/66’, 8 October 1966.
98
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex C to DBO 20762 INT, ‘Central Brigade’, 16 July 1966.
99
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘The Commander British Forces Borneo Weekly Assessment No. 33’, 13 August 1966.
100
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 30 July 1966.
101
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to CBF 20762 INT, ‘3 Malaysian Infantry Brigade’, 1 October 1966.
102
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 25 June 1966.
103
Ibid.
104
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to DBO 20762 INT, ‘West Brigade’, 2 July 1966.
105
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex C to DBO 0620 OPS, ‘Sarawak Constabulary’, 14 July 1966.
106
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 0620 OPS, ‘Operation Report 1 July – 31 October 1966’, 7 November 1966.
107
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 5/66’, 22 October 1966, and ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 1/66’, 24 September 1966.
108
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 1/66’, 24 September 1966.
109
TNA, WO 305/3327, Annex A to CBF 20762 INT, ‘5 Malaysia Infantry Brigade’, 15 October 1966.
110
TNA, WO 305/3327, CBF 20762 INT, ‘Commander British Forces in Borneo Weekly Intelligence Digest No. 3/66’, 8 October 1966.
111
Ibid.
112
TNA, DEFE 5/172, ‘The Joint Report on the Borneo Campaign’, 27 January 1967.
113
For discussion of the inchoate nature of Indonesian strategy, see, for example, Crouch, Army and Politics, pp. 69–75; Conboy, Kopassus, pp. 109–10; Joseph H. Daves, The Indonesian Army from Revolusi to Reformasi, vol. 1: The Struggle for Independence and the Sukarno Era (CreateSpace Independent, 2013), pp. 526–7.
