Kampuchea

March 17, 1975

2010-03-22T09:38:00.000-06:00

March 18th marked the 40th anniversary of the coup that was led by the anti Sihanouk group in srok Khmer in 1970, namely Lon Nol, Sirikmatak, In Tam, etc.

History shows that prior to the event that led to the deposed of Sihanouk, Sihanouk himself was out of the country on some pretexts that only he could have known. Knowing Sihanouk’s style of governing the country, one can safely assume that he must have known that something was brewing. As in the past, when things got out of hand, he would dramatically seek refuge in Angkor or some resorts in Europe hoping that his “children” would see it right to behave as he would want them to and that things will take care of themselves by the time his “children” ask him to come back. He was wrong on that fateful day of 1970. His “children” had had enough of him and they decided to dispose of him and his mercurial style of leadership.

According to some historians, Lon Nol was a reluctant participant. He was “forced” to sign a decree that denounce Sihanouk. Whether or not Lon Nol was a willing participant we will never know. The only thing that we know is that he was voted by the new parliament to head the new government and that he eventually became the president of the Khmer Republic.

That much we know for certain.

As to the recent haranguing of the current government that Lon Nol was a traitor I find it hard to swallow. In my opinion, the recent speech made by the prime minister of Kampuchea was an attempt to pacify Sihanouk while at the same time legitimize his own party standing.

There is no need to do that. The current government is deemed legitimate by many countries around the world and as far as Sihanouk is concerned, we know what he did and did not do. Therefore, to blatantly falsify historical facts is to insult the intelligence of those who had perished in the civil war and of those who have survived.

Lon Nol was indeed a traitor, but not a traitor to Kampuchea. He, in a sense, stabbed Sihanouk in the back. But that is between Sihanouk and Lon Nol. Those who have known him (or of him) know that he was patriotic.

Thus, to set the record straight we should say that Lon Nol was a traitor to Sihanouk, not a traitor of srok Khmer. However, if we insist to adhere to the logic of the prime minister, then we can say that Lon Nol is a traitor just as Sihanouk was a traitor to Son Ngoc Thanh or Preap In or Sam Sary. Furthermore, we can even say that those that defected to Vietnam in the late 1970s were also traitors -- they were traitors to Pol Pot.

You see the logic here? Sihanouk was not Kampuchea. He governed Kampuchea but he himself was not Kampuchea or the embodiment of it (though I am sure he likes to think that way). To betray Sihanouk is not the same thing as to betray Kampuchea.

By now I hope I can convince some of the readers that Lon Nol was not a traitor. Rather, he was patriotic. But being patriotic does not necessarily mean that one is capable and this is true for Lon Nol and his administration. Incompetency, corruption, and nepotism was the norm of the day.. and still is.

The Problem with Death

2010-03-14T08:16:00.000-06:00

I woke up in the middle of the night sweating so profusely and microseconds later I realized that my chest was in a sharp pain. I lied still trying to figure what had just happened and I made myself believe that it was just one of those serious episodes of heartburn. The pain continued to jab me and its intensity was relentless and after what seems eternal, I sat up and tried to do a breathing exercise that I read somewhere. As a precaution, I also took a heartburn pill. I, unwillingly, asked myself the obvious question: what had just happened? Was it just heartburn or was it a mere courtesy call of death, disguised as a mild stroke?

All the while, my wife, who was sleeping beside me, continued her slumber and hopefully dreaming of a beautiful dream. I knew my children were also in their deep sleep, only to stir every now and then as I know they do.

So I sat down doing my breathing. I tried to focus my mind on one simple object -- a rose. I saw in my mind’s eyes a beautiful red rose and I tried to see the origin of this beauty. I suppose the projector that was my mind was not functioning as well as it should have, for I could not get a clear picture of the rose. I presume my mind has a “mind” of its own for I could not bring it to focus any longer. Instead of projecting a simple, beautiful stem of rose, my mind kept on wondering in and out of the subject of death.

I gave up my attempt to do a breathing exercise. So I went back to bed and tried to lie as still as possible so as not to disturb my wife. As I lay down stealthily I did not have any other thought but the thought of death. Someone had said “the anticipation of death is worse than death itself.” Touché!

The venerable Kang Keng had told me that a person needs to prepare for his own death. Here, he was not talking about putting down a payment for your future plot of land. He was talking about mentally preparing for it. He said he saw his own funeral many thousand times, in details. He was afraid of it at first but as he replays it over and over in his mind he became one with death. No longer afraid of it and he is now able to see it as something that is as normal as breathing.

Thus death came in and out of my mind as if it had total control of my faculty and soon I gave way to this train of thought and I now I became the passenger. I questioned myself how would it come, I mean, death? Would it come in a peaceful manner like a gradual fading of lights or would it come violently? No one would know, I suppose, for the one that had died was never able to tell us how it feels like the very last second of their grasping of air. Achar Bud Savong said “it is logical that everyone is afraid of death because a person will experience death just once in his or her life time.”

Should I be afraid of death? I asked myself. I did not have a clue whether the idea of death is more frightening than the idea of dying. Death, I know, will extinguish all which make my body functions and after it has put out all elements that fuel my body I will surely vacate this body and “I” will be no more. Or will “I” be? I do not know the answer because I do not even know if there has ever been an “I”, as in the first person singular pronoun.
I glanced at the clock that sat quietly on my night stand. The digital display showed 2:34 a.m. I had wished at that very instance that death would be just as quiet as this clock who just sits there waiting and showing us time, a reminder that a certain hour of rendezvous is nearing. I contemplated on the notion of Annicha Dukkha Anatta or all conditioned things are impermanence in nature and this will produce mental anguish and since this phenomenon is out of our control it is therefore not us – hence no-self. Mind you, I have not mastered this theory yet for I am still very much dreadful of death.

But then again, it is not death that alarmed me. Rather, it is the dying part that is bothersome. I hate thinking that when death comes, it comes in and plays us like a child who is playing with his or her little figurines. It would twist us here and bend us there. It would extend its cold palm and squeeze our beating heart now lightly, now tightly. The pain must have been excruciatingly unbearable. I thought when the time comes I would have enough courage to be able to say to death “come ye come all for I am not afraid of thee as thou art part of me.”

I opened my eyes and I found my wife was still asleep. It was 5:30 a.m. I got up and got ready for my daily round of work. I was thankful of the fact that I had another chance to wake up and to feel her warm body next to me.

Unordinary Khmers

2010-02-24T11:16:00.001-06:00

The draconic cycle of life of ordinary Khmers will continue to spin while the life style of the “unordinary” elites continues to flourish as if the world of the poor and the desolate many does not exist.

It is indeed a sad affair to have witnessed and to have heard of cases of Khmers who have but a few square meters of land upon which they could build what they call home. It is even more sorrowful to have known the very few who own not just one hundred, but hundreds or even thousands of hectares of land. It does not take a genius to figure out that there is something fundamentally wrong with this picture.

I am a firm believer in a capitalist system. I am convinced that free competitive spirit propels the economy to move forward, enriching those who have the resources while at the same time helping the rest to inch forward toward a better life. However, Kampuchea is another story.

Having said that, what I, and I am sure the rest of us, am seeing today in Kampuchea is similar to the episode which I read of primitive culture of Europe back in the Dark Age. In short, though we are living the twenty-first century, we are still in the modus operandi of the past.

And speaking of the past, I am reminded of a book that I read called “How the Irish Saved Civilization” in which feudal lords and the like of them positioned and repositioned themselves in the realm of politics so that they could garner a bigger piece of the lion share. I am witnessing the same scenario today in srok Khmer where the knights and lords (Okña and Ek Oudam) are vying for a better spot upon which a lion share could be had.

What becomes of the “ordinary” (more than 80% of the population) Khmers then are but serfs whose lives depend on the mercy of their lords; whose livelihood depends upon the leftover (if any) or any spillage that may have occurred after the “lions” had their fill. The have-nots are transforming, unwillingly, daily to become beasts of burden while the Okña and their peers are themselves The Beasts...predators who will prey on their own if needed be.

If the description of Kampuchea thus far seems bleak it because it is bleak. And the future is not that promising either, if the current trend continues. Will the trend continue? No one really knows, but as an old adage goes “the future lays in the hands of younger generation.” True, the future will definitely rest upon the shoulders of young bloods. The question is “which shoulder”? Will it be the shoulder that further sink Kampuchea to the abyss of regressiveness or will it be the one that elevate her from her current state of being?

The shaking off of the yoke of poverty and the shifting from a good to a bad shoulder all depend on our ability to distinguish between what is moral and what is immoral. It must be understood that it is oxymoronic to take the money that would otherwise belong to the poor to help build a grand temple; it must be understood that it is rather odd to wish for democracy while ignoring the plight of humanity.

It is never too late to change, but before any changes can take place, Khmers must come to a realization that mistakes have been made and that the same mistakes must not be repeated.

Kampot, Kampuchea

2010-02-21T14:40:00.001-06:00

It has been raining for several days now and the temperature has not risen above 50 Fahrenheit. The sky is covered with thick blanket of clouds that don’t seem to want to go away.

This type of weather prompts me to think of one place that I have grown to love so dearly -- Kampot. Though I was born and raised in Phnom Penh, I had spent almost four of my teenage years during the Pol Pot era in that province. There is something about that territory that seems endearing to me. Perhaps because Kampot’s landscape is dotted with mountains and hills with lush, green vegetations; perhaps because within her bosom she has the ocean that bring cool breeze to a person like me.

In my opinion, there is nothing more relaxing than to stroll or to sit on one of the benches along the shore of her river; just sit there listening to the gentle sound of branches of pine trees as they sway to and fro. From this vintage point, I could see clearly the infamous Phnom Bok Kor majestically standing tall above the rest with white cloud swirling around her waist. If I close my eyes, I could have sworn I could faintly hear the sound of rushing water from a distance Teuk Chhu not so far away.

Just a short drive away from down town, I would run into a monument that bears the name of the town: Ses Sar (White Horse). Turn right and just a stone throw away the smell of freshly boiled crabs and of the mouthwatering fish sauce would lure me closer and closer to the serenity of the white sand beach. The view is breathtaking because just behind me stands yet a chain of mountains with remnant of old houses that once belonged to some people who have long been perished. Though the houses and their occupants have long gone, I could still see the elders watching their kids running up and down the hill chasing butterflies while some picked wild, colorful flowers that are so abundant there.

I could see myself sitting on my front porch, sipping a piñacolada watching waves after waves rushing to shore...

Where there's life, there's hope??

2010-02-20T15:38:00.000-06:00

There is a proverb that says “where there’s life, there’s hope.” While in many cases this saying holds true, it is indisputable that the same statement may run into a bit of a problem in Kampuchea.

The word “hope” denotes a sense of aspiration, but what is there to aspire when the opportunity to do so is severely limited. Take a boy who picks up “trashes” in the Phnom Penh’s dumping ground as an example, what is the chance of him, and the multitude like him, to evolve from his present state to the one comparable to that so enjoy by my kids and yours? I’d say pretty, pretty slim.

The Buddha theorized that all conditioned things are dependent upon “other” things for them to come to be. He called this Dependance Origination. In other words, for this to exist, that has to exist first; for this to cease to exist, that has to first cease to exist. For a fire to start, first there must be other materials like wood, spark, oxygen, etc.

If you were the woman who begs on the beach of O Chheu Teal for foods to feed your hungry baby, what chance do you have to rid yourself of this nightmare that has become your reality, the reality that you and your baby live out day to day? If you were that woman, in order for you to have a sense of hope or ambition, the right condition(s) must exist for you to dare to have such a pipe dream.

Given the current state of being in Kampuchea, I’d say that “conditions” for unceasing state of penury exceed those of “good opportunity.” The “conditions” do not (yet?) exist for you to formulate the thoughts of having the ability to free yourself from the present harrowing conditions.

Be that as it may, if we were to take out (or perhaps even to reduce) some components that help produce the unfavorable circumstances, we ought to see also an improvement (if only by a fraction) in the lives of those distressed people. I need not elaborate what those adverse conditions are, for they are far too many to describe here. Instead I should just mention a few conditions by which the life of a country could be reenergized:

* When Khmers realize that the only barrier to success are discipline and the extent of one's talent.

* When both the privileges and the disqualifications of class (the really rich and the really poor) have been abolished and Khmers have shattered the bond which once held them immobile, the idea of progress comes naturally into each Khmer's mind.

When the middle class is the larger than either the rich or the poor.

* When the desire to rise swell in every heart at once, and all Khmers want to quit their former social position, that is when Nak Sre no longer want to be called Nak Sre or the rich kids no longer want to be labeled as such.

* When any man's son may become the equal of any other man's son.

Etcetera, etcetera...

Needless to say, these conditions depend on other conditions for them to arise. Most of these must be initiated from the top of the food chain, namely from those who are in the position to make changes. These people must see that their very existence depends upon those who are living at the bottom and at the middle tiers of society. These two groups must be seen as assets rather than liabilities.

However, after all that is said and done, the truth remains: the lack of moral standards at the top echelon mixing with the absence of self-worth at the bottom produce a phenomenon that further degenerate the spirit and the hope of the general populace as a whole. It further perpetuates the vicious cycle of misery that will eventually deplete mother Kampuchea of her talented sons and daughters.

Where there’s life, there’s hope. Yes, it is true. It could be true. However, hopes depend on other factor to help bring them to fruition, just as a seed depends on good soil, nutrients, and water. Without those conditions, a hope is just another fallacy.

Sam Rainsy Party and Others

2009-05-26T07:17:00.000-06:00

I acknowledged in my previous statement that if I were to select one of the three opposition parties, SRP, Ranariddh, and FUNCINPEC, I would opt for the SRP. There are many reasons for that choice and all of which are solely based upon my study of the party’s activities, the party’s apparatus, and its rhetoric.

Since its inception in the earlier part of the 90’s, the SRP has continually demonstrated its aspiration to be the champion of the poor people. It has helped shedding lights on the plight of the poor who are on the verge of losing their homes. It has orchestrated demonstrations against human rights abuses; it has sided with the garment workers and has been helping them in procuring better wages, better working conditions, and most important of all it has been instrumental in insuring that the factory’s bosses (and their backers) do not cross the boundary that separate their profit-hungry motives from abuses. On this note, one might argue its rate of success, but one cannot ignore one simple fact: without the voices of the SRP the circumstances of the poor, the homeless, and the deprived could have been worse.

Membership of the party itself is more prominent than the other parties. As the party leader, Mr. Rainsy has packed his baggage with various credentials. His education, his job resume, his propensity in exposing the Khmer’s dilemmas to western nations, and above all, his ethics are what tower above the rest of the pact, and we, as Khmers, and other outsiders, see this in him as well. As we already know he was dismissed from his post as minister of finance because of his perseverance in exposing the lack of transparency in the government “profit & loss statement.” The dismissal could only be made possible by the engineering and the lack of moral standard of his former boss and, of course, by Mr. Hun Sen. Of late, we see repeated exposé of Mrs. Mu Sochea, who has stood tall against the “strong man” of Kampuchea over the barrage of lawsuits and counter-lawsuits. She is known among western nations as one of the defenders for democracy.

SRP’s rhetoric, at times, seems strong, confrontational, and possibly provoking, but one thing for certain is that it still stands on its principles. I have not yet seen any top SRP leadership altering his or her ideology because of any appeasement or enticement thrown at them by other political factions. The latest example of this is when the SRP and FUNCINPEC top echelons were considering the merging of the two, whereas Mr. Rainsy insisted that the other party must conform to the SRP principles or no deal at all.

From what I have briefly described thus far, one could easily come to a conclusion that the SRP is the noble party indeed, the sort of party that you would throw your supports wholeheartedly. However, since we all are humans and humans do make mistakes, the SRP, namely Mr. Rainsy, does have his Achilles heel. As they said in the days of old “he who lives by the sword shall dies by the sword.” Likewise, as in the SRP case, one can say “he who lives by the rhetoric shall die by the rhetoric.’

That which makes Mr. Rainsy strong could become the device that weighs him down also, just like an anchor that holds a vessel immobile. For instance, the recognition that he extensively receives from western countries could be one of the factors that alienates him from other great nations of the east. It seems as though he relentlessly seeks the support of the USA and other European countries more than he tries with countries in the Asian continent. This may seems trivial at times, but believe you me, the eastern nations are also led by people, and people have feelings – they want Mr. Rainsy to come to them too. In this respect, Mr. Rainsy ought not to neglect countries where Mr. Hun Sen does his shopping. He should have learned from history that countries in the west can at best offer “rhetoric” and not much action – much like they have done throughout the years. Or if I may bluntly say that if a country does not present any strategic importance to them, that country can just hope for lips service and nothing more of real substance. In other words, all is about “investment” in the game of world politics.

The volleys of words and lawsuits that are being lobbed between Mr. Hun Sen and Mrs. Mu Sochea are one thing that distracts our attention, and that of the world, from the real predicament of the Khmer people. It is indeed admirable that Mrs. Mu Sochea has the courage to stand tall against the man whom many consider to be the strong man of Kampuchea. However, I do not think that the lawsuit was needed and that the most that should have been done was to launch a complaint against Mr. Hun Sen. A letter could have been written and distributed to the press that supports her. A letter could have been written to Mr. Hun Sen personally to address the inappropriateness of his remarks. In my opinion, it was a waste of energy, the energy that was diverted from the real cause of saving Kampuchea and her children.

Again, as righteous as their action have been, one thing that the SRP must apprehend is that they are operating in a real world, a world in which your opponent is much, much strong than you are. There are many ways of taming a lion, but provoking the king of the jungle is not one of them. Real politick dictates that one must be flexible in dealing with the real world. The SRP, according to my observation, often time, seems as if they function in an ideal world and since they seem to operate in this mode, they tend to be inflexible.

This inflexibility is their Achilles heel or the heavy anchor afore mentioned. Politicians of the FUNCINPEC as well as the Ranariddh’s parties have been lured to join the CPP. There have been hints also that Mr. Nhek Bun Chhay wanted to form a coalition with the CPP. I know Mr. Hun Sen is an intelligent man and as such I doubt it very much that he would truly enjoy the partnership with the like of Mr. Nhek Bun Chhay, who has swayed to and fro like a pine tree according to the direction of the wind. Instead, I honestly believe that Mr. Hun Sen would benefit greatly if he was to have someone like Mr. Rainsy. For the benefit of Mother Kampuchea, I think this option should not be overlooked by the SRP.

This proposition is by no mean suggesting that the SRP abandons their noble principles. Rather, the SRP can still maintain their ideology while at the same time drive forward to obtain their ultimate goal. Mr. Rainsy need to consider being in a government and from there strive to make changes from within. That is what a German political scientist called Real Politick, and not politics, which mean the ability to adapt to the real world while vigilantly maintaining the goals that you have set in sight constantly.

Imagine what Mr. Rainsy and his party could have accomplished for Khmers if they were IN the government. I am sure corruption would be curtailed, the heavy burden of the factory workers could have been lessening, and the welfare of the poor might have been fairer. Then again, I am writing from a point of view of a person who seeks not power, but prosperity for his Mother Land and whose ego is no equal to that of our current politicians. I, therefore, can only hope that the struggle that all the politicians have been waging is not the struggle for personal glory or personal vendetta, but for the glory of all.

One lazy afternoon

2009-04-25T08:08:00.001-06:00

Yesterday afternoon, some of my friends and my family went to an annual Crawfish Festival in Old Town Spring, Texas. It was a very beautiful late afternoon, the temperature was about 78 degree Fahrenheit and the sun was just bright enough to enjoy the lazy day such as it was.

Bands were blasting their music from different stages: Cajun music, country, and rock and rolls. People danced to their favorite music and sang to tunes they knew. Booths were set up advertising their specialties: authentic Cajun crawfish boil, crawfish pies, crawfish etoufee, jambalaya, gator gumbo, rattlesnake gumbo, etc.

As we strolled passed throngs of crawfish enthusiasts, we settled into one booth that offered jumbo crawfish with gator tail on the side. We were getting hungry and after sucking a few crawfish heads, I realized that my wife should have set up a booth here for as I know her crawfish is a lot better than all of these booths combined. I kid you not, I have never tasted a better crawfish. Period. My 3 year-old concurred.

After downing a dozen coronas and 20 pounds of the critters, we decided it was time to go listening to some Cajun music.

Then the sun went away and down came the rain. We sought shelter under a tent that read “Voodoo Arts.” As we waited out the rain, I could not help but notice that I did not see a single piece of trash on the street! And we are talking about thousands of people who must have used tons of paper napkins. Trash bins were everywhere and people actually use them.

I do not know why a simple thing like this captured my attention, but then I thought back to the time when I was in Kien Svay picnic area. There were trash bins too, but no one bothered to use them, as if depositing their own trash in a bin degrades their dignity or something. Trashes were everywhere and I thought why couldn’t they just learn one simple act: putting trashes where they belongs – in the trash bin and not on the street.

The rain never let up so we had to leave the festival. As I drove home, I took my wife’s hand and told her “Honey, there is no crawfish boiled in the world that can be compared to yours.” She thought I went loco, but I meant it. I do appreciate her and her patience with me. Other thoughts came to my mind too that has not gone away yet and that is: why on earth can’t we keep our Kampuchea clean? Perhaps we need to educate our people the simple act of trash depositing before we teach them anything else. Small things matter.

In remembrance of April 17, 1975

2009-04-02T08:58:00.000-06:00

“And blood will be spilled so high as to reach the elephant’s belly…And there will be roads, but they will be emptied of people…And people will chase after dogs for a single grain of rice that’s stuck to the dogs’ tail…” So it was prophesized.

And dusk fell upon a civilization as rapaciously as the guillotine blade fell upon a hapless victim. Then darkness settled in and the people who dwelled in the land of the smiling faces were silenced.

My friends and I were having coffee one evening at my house and for some reason the following discussions came up…

Friend 1:
“My family was in a jewelry business in PP. When they came, we managed to hide some of our jewelry and we would use them to barter for food, salt, sugar, etc. One ounce of gold would fetch us a can of uncooked rice. Or one diamond bracelet would be exchanged for a sarong. Such were the values of precious metals and stones. We were relocated to Battambang, away from our home. I was very young, but I remember that fateful day when they surround our house (if you could call it that). My father was trying to burry the jewelries in the ground behind our shack. Someone caught sight of him digging and the whole village was roused. They took him to “reeducate” that very same night. We prayed that he would not be killed. Miraculously, they did not kill him. They released him soon afterward. My father became sick after the incident. I guess the whole ordeal must have traumatized him so badly that his health was deteriorating by the hours. I remember his final words to my mother as she cradled him in her arms, “…do not worry about the jewelries they took from us. One day when things change again, I will make more and we will sell more. As long as we have our lives, things will be alright…” He passed on in my mother’s embrace.

I learned how to survive and to fend for ourselves. I became a good, little thief that the word ever knew. I stole rice from the sack, still stacked up in the oxen cart. I would get my little shirt pocket by the rice sack and gape a hole in the sack and let the grain trickled in my pocket about half way full. Then I would run home to empty the pocket. If opportunity presented itself, I would repeat again and again.”

Friend 2:
“We were relocated in Kampot province somewhere near Touk Meas district. My parents were sent off to work in the field far from home. There were rumored that my father would be taken to “reeducate.” He did not really believe it at first, but then when he heard it from the “old people” (those who took part in the revolutionary struggle prior to 1975) mentioned that he would be next, he made a plan to escape. The night of his escape, he planned on taking my youngest brother with him, but then changed his mind for fear of my brother’s safety. He planned to escape to Siam. We did not know why Siam since Vietnam was much closer. He was caught not too far away from the village and was executed shortly after. Soon, my mother was sent off to work away from us again as a punishment. Now there were only three of us children, left alone to care for ourselves. I was the oldest and I was seven year old.”
Friend 3:
“There I was in a commune somewhere in Praneth Preah, Battambang. Hunger and fatigue was my companion. I was 16 0r 17 year old, in my prime, or, should I say in this circumstance, lack thereof. I was sent off to work in a district “mobile unit. The unit moved from commune to commune as worked dictated. In my unit, there was a guy who was always absent from work duty. One afternoon during our regular “criticism and self-criticism” meeting, the leader of the unit called on the guy’s name to come forward so that “Angkar” could conduct a criticism session. After several minutes into the session, a few strong “old people” rushed forward and pinned him down to the ground, face down. They bound his hand behind his back. The leader came forward with a bayonet and declared that “this man incurs no gain to Angkar if we were to keep him nor would he be a loss if we eliminated him.” With that, he planted his foot firmly on the man’s neck and plunged the bayonet into the man’s back. The man screamed, agonizing scream. The time seemed to have stood still for I closed my eyes and I heard the screaming. I wanted to close my ears so as to shut off the cry, but I was afraid to.”

Friend 4:
“The area where I was relocated to was relatively safe, as far as the killing goes. They did not kill the “new” people outright. No, but, there was another way they killed us…by starvation. By 1976, you could see skeletons walking the fields. Literary, people were starving to death. The number of people in my commune was decimated to a just a few families. Soon there were words going around of cannibalism. Family members would be sitting around their dying loved one, crying and so on, but at the same time waiting for the dying to pass on so they could “eat” the body instead of burying the corps. I never thought anything of it until one day as I entered my hut, I noticed that my two children were cowering in the corner of the hut. I thought they were sick, so I went closer. The closer I went the more I saw fear in their faces. I asked if they did something wrong they shook their heads no. Then like a flash of lightning that hit me, I understood their fear. I broke down and cried. I gently told my children that I would never resort to eating them, no matter what. Several months after this incidence, my older child passed away in her sleep. Her younger sister followed her a few weeks afterward. I buried both of them.”

Of governance by consent

2009-03-06T18:28:00.001-06:00

I would like to offer a statement made by Abraham Lincoln, a statement which I believe to be so profound and can be applied universally: “No man is good enough to govern another, without that other’s consent.”

As I ponder the depth of Mr. Lincoln’s statement, I cannot help but be reminded of the predicament that befallen Kampuchea.

I am wondering whether or not the population of Kampuchea, or the majority of, consenting to the government that is governing them? From the result of the last election it appears that indeed Khmers gave their consent, or authorized the present regime to govern them via their elected “representatives.”

An obvious question that follows is thus: Since those who are in power were chosen by us and for us why is there so much dissenting opinion about the government’s inept? And why are there so much displays of disgruntlement throughout the country? Did we not choose the right people? Did we not know how to choose? Perhaps yes and yes.

Let it be known that the present government did not come to power by force. Though some may dispute this statement and would allege that there were some irregularities of this and that sort prior to the election. May be there is some validity in their allegation, but the fact remains that Khmers did choose their representatives with (or without) their conscience. And by the end of the day, the government came into being by the decree of the ballots – ballots that were cast freely by the people.

Or was it free?

If we take the approach that Mr. Lincoln took that “no man is good enough to govern another man, without that other’s consent”, then only two possible arguments can be made here. First, if the Khmer people were forced to choose or were coerced to consent, then we can say that the current regime is not a legitimate one in that it did not possess the “trust” of the people and that the people were forced into accepting them. Hence the government was born not out of free will, but out of oppression. Mr. Mahatma Gandhi (or the Great Soul) put it more eloquently, “The institution that fails to win public support has no right to exist.”

Second, if it can be unequivocally established that indeed the government was born out of free will of the people yet dissatisfactions is mounting from within, then we can conclude that the Khmer people did not know how to choose when they were offered a chance to choose. If this is this the case, then we are faced with a much bigger dilemma: that we, as a nation, lack the education and the knowledge of being a free man. Ignorance is the worse form of evil and through ignorance tyrants rule.

Kampuchea is a house under construction. No one mighty person can build it alone. As is customary in building a house, there need to be a team of builders, craftsmen, technicians, and, yes, inspectors. All would have to work together harmoniously if the joints are to fit perfectly. The dwellers, too, must take part in the building process unless they do not mind living in a house with a leaked roof. The people of Kampuchea are the dwellers of the house. They must be vigilant in their efforts in overseeing the construction of the house. Idleness invites incompetence on the part of the builders. Arrogance will result in a faulty frame. We are our worse enemy and we have but ourselves to blame if the house is henceforth crumbled.

A Rude Awakening

2009-02-27T12:08:00.003-06:00

A rude awakening came to me one night in a form of a storm To be precise, it was more than a storm; it was a hurricane whose name was that of one of my favorite person: Ike. Yes, indeed, Ike was strong and vicious as it wreaked havoc in the lives of many thousands, mine included.

Or was Ike a blessing in disguise? Yes, it was a wake-up call alright; a reminder to me, especially. It was as though it said to me “hey, Chumnith, complacency is over. Wake up and be reminded of the time that you did not have what you have today.”

Yes, indeed, it was mighty strong reminder. And Ike made sure I won’t ever forget the hard time again.

I felt Ike’s presence at 10:30 p.m. The howling of the wind, the swaying of the trees (which I had about 50 on my property), the twisting of branches, and the pouring of rain did not bother me that much. I had been through hurricane before. Nothing to worry about. Then out went the light. I told everyone to go to sleep and when we “wake up tomorrow the worse will pass.”

But the worst had not even arrived yet. I awoke to the crashing sound on my roof. A pine tree was uprooted and felt on my roof. It sounded like a grenade had exploded meters away from me; I tried to go outside to see for myself, but I found myself unable to open the door. The wind, with its might, pressed the door shut as if mine was a doll house.

You know, I use candles to “create” ambient whenever I throw a party at my house. Lots of them. Candles by the stairways, by the fire place, on the tables, bathroom, etc. They all were beautiful when you use them to achieve the desired effect. But not that night. And surely not the 15 nights that followed. I burned the candles very sparingly since there was not any electrical power to my whole neighborhood.

As I sat during these nights having dinners, I was reminded of the time that, not so long ago, my family and I sat on the cold, damped floor around the faintly lit lamp fueled by coconut oil in our thatched hut somewhere in the land of Angkar. We sat and whispered night after night as if the grim reaper is hovering around waiting to snatch our soul. Come to think of it, Angkar was not any different from that at all.

Aside from not having electrical power, we did not have other things that we normally take for granted: water and natural gas. Hence, to have potable water for cooking and drinking, we resorted to use all of our available pots and pans and coolers, etc. to catch the rain water. My little king (my three year old son) had a blast at first as we let him bathe in the rain water; he ran around butt-naked in the rain. After that he got tired of if after a couple of times, for the rain water were cold, as cold as ice water. Again, as I watched my little king danced in the rain water, I was taken back to the time of Pol Pot where drinking rain water was a luxury. I saw myself crouching on the ground trying to drink rain water that was collected in a little pond. I also saw the worried look on my parents’ faces as they knew that they could not and did not have any food for us to eat; my three-year old sister had to stop drinking her milk. It was painful to see their helpless faces. Now my face was probably like theirs as I was wondering where on earth I could get milk for my son. Since almost all gas stations and convenient stores were shut down for lack of power.

Thus 15 days and so many recollections later, the light came back on as if heaven suddenly said: “enough of this test for Chumnith already. Let there be electricity.” And “poof” the power came back on. My wife and I jumped with joy as we realized that the bad time had passed. We understood that we were reminded that there is always sunshine after the rain. We were reminded that one should never, ever take anything for granted, but the most important reminder of all was that one should not let his or her guard down and must never forget the past no matter how bitter that past may have been.

Stop Patronizing Siam

2008-07-21T10:38:00.000-06:00

In light of recent event, the obvious question that came to my mind was WHAT SHOULDN’T Mr. HUN SEN DO?

Siam has blatantly violated Khmer sovereignty not once but twice since the temple of Preah Vihear was listed as a World Heritage site. On one occasion, three civilian crossed the border and were detained but were handed back to Siam authority. That was understandable in so far as since the intruders were civilians. The last act was not excusable and was very provocative. Forty or so of Siam soldiers crossed the border with the intent of drawing fire from the Khmer troop. Luckily no fire was shot.What would happen have Khmer soldiers took the bait and open fire? Return fires from the 40 odd Siam soldiers are expected and back-up fire from hidden contingencies is highly probable. I am not sure how many units of Khmer soldiers are deployed in the area, but the number should be increased to a minimum of a battalion size with appropriate supports units.This deployment should not be designed to provoke Siam, but to show that we are ready and able to defend our land. Our intention should be made crystal clear.

We must register our complaints with the UN and other international agencies. A border watch organization should be invited to observe the situation.The arrogance and the aggression of Siam should serve as a reminder to Khmer leadership that the Siamese government cannot be trusted and that as Khmers we should be vigilant in this regard. As Khmers, we cannot dismiss this as a mere political move by this or that faction (Siam or Khmer). This intrusion must be seen in its seriousness and we all must do our part.We have seen what Siam has done: the shooting of Khmer civilians, the canceling of 1000 or so tourist to srok Khmer, and the invasion of Siam troop. These are just the beginning. I am sure there are more to come: when and how is the question.

As Khmers living overseas, w can do something to help: stop patronizing Siam. Stop giving them businesses. Stop spending our hard-earned dollars or Euros in Siam. Our government must make it known to Siam about this fact.An apology is in order here, Siam. And it is high time that you, Siam, accept the fact that Preah Vihear is Khmer’s: always was, always will be.

I, the Accuser, find the government guilty as charged.

2008-07-21T09:19:00.000-06:00

I, the Accuser, find the government guilty as charged.
Posted by Hang, Chumnith on July 17, 2008 at 10:38am

The headlines read “In Cambodia, progress for some means eviction for others (International Herald Tribune)Yes, progress has a price. And, mind you, who pays for this “progress” today? Yep, you’ve got it right: the poor and the miserable. Just read the following quotes and tell me whether or not the vast majority of Khmers are protected by the constitution:“Mao Sein, 34, is a widow and a scavenger, and as these things go, she could be doing worse. When the government raided a squatter colony in Phnom Penh two years ago to clear it for a new development, it allowed 700 families to resettle to this open field 20 kilometers, or 12 miles, outside the capital.”“With the economy on the rise, land is being seized for logging, agriculture, mining, tourism and fisheries, and in Phnom Penh, soaring land prices have touched off what one official called a frenzy of land grabs by the rich and powerful.”“In a recent report, Amnesty International estimated that 150,000 people around the country were now at risk of forcible eviction as a result of land disputes, land seizures and new development projects.”“"One thing that is important to note is that the government is not only failing to protect the population but we are also seeing that it is complicit in many of the forced evictions," said Edman of Amnesty International.”Chapter 3, Article 32 states:“Every Khmer citizen shall have the right to life, personal freedom and security.”The right to life and personal freedom is nice and dandy, but how about security? According Merriam-Webster dictionary, one of the definitions of security is “freedom from fear or anxiety.” I dare to bet that those that live on or below the poverty line don’t have security. I bet they have plenty of fear and anxiety. The fear of the unknown, the fear that constantly reminds them that wherever they are today is only temporary. Sooner or later they and their family will be forced to move again, and again. The anxiety that the parents of the impoverished kids have daily 24/7 about whether their kids will grow up to be like them or not.In this regard, I, the accuser, find the government guilty.Chapter 3, Article 38 states:“The law shall protect the life, honor and dignity of the citizens.”What honor or dignity is there when you ain’t got a piece of land to call your own? What dignity and honor is there when you have to live off garbage dumps and your kids are sent to beg for tourist dollars?In this regard, I, the accuser, find the government guilty.Chapter 3, Article 44 states:“The right to confiscate possessions from any person shall be exercised only in the public interest as provided for under law and shall required fair and just compensation in advance.”Public interest is loosely defined as always. Who is to say what constitutes “public interest?” And the fair and just compensation part? Who in hell can tell me how much is fair, when your monthly earning is less than the cost of a visit to a brothel?In this regard, I, the accuser, find the government guilty.

Conflict and change in Cambodia

2007-07-22T07:07:00.000-06:00

Excerpted from
Conflict and Change in Cambodia
Edited with an introduction by Ben Kiernan

Introduction

Eight different regimes have governed Cambodia since 1944. Yet, before World War II, Cambodia was a heavily taxed, relatively quiet corner of the French empire. Its population was 80 percent Khmer, 80 percent Buddhist, and 80 percent rice-growing peasants.

Cambodia also obtained independence under the then-king Norodom Sihanouk, who soon adopted a foreign policy of cold war neutrality. His choice was partly a domestic accommodation, an implicit acknowledgement of the local communists’ important role in the war for Cambodia‘s independence and their potential and incentive to disrupt a more pro western regime. Neutrality was also a foreign policy strategy to keep Cambodia out of escalating conflict in neighboring Vietnam. It worked for over a decade.

Once the United States escalated the Vietnam War in 1964-65, Cambodia had little hope of remaining an oasis of peace. Its frontiers became increasingly porous and vulnerable. By 1966, rampant smuggling of Cambodian rice across the border to both sides of the Vietnam conflict bankrupted the Sihanouk regime by depriving it of export duties, the government’s main source of revenue.

From 1969 to 1973, American aircraft dropped over 2 million tons of bombs on Cambodia’s countryside, killing over 100,000 peasants and driving many survivors into the ranks of the Khmer Rouge.

Chapter 2: Democratization, elite transition, and violence in Cambodia, 1991 – 1999 by David Roberts

Elites and traditional sociopolitical structures: In the Cambodian system, as in many other developing (and developed) states, political leaders exist at the top of the pyramidal structure of relationships, where the wide base supports the narrow elite and the elite rewards the support base. The leaders who rise to the top retain their power by funding the people who put them in power. Equally, those who aspire to elite positions must generate support by paying supporters.

Khmer academic and democracy activist Lao Mong Hay notes that “the Royalist Party got their houses and villas. Whoever got closest to Ranariddh gets [sic] more favors. Strong organization is lacking. They wanted power and then they became drunk with it and neglected the necessary consolidation of their already fragmented and inexperienced party.[1]”

Curtis observes a similar phenomenon with regard to the smaller BLDP. He notes that in their attempts to reward their followers, they mismanaged the sole ministry they had been awarded in the government: “the Secretariat of State of Women’s Affairs, headed by a BLDP member [a man], hires scores of BLDP supporters without regard to qualifications. Many of the new recruits performed no real functions other than filling a party-base position, a sinecure that, while not paying very much, at least provide a regular income, ample opportunity for outside employment, and claim to status.”

The administration, rather than becoming streamlined and more efficient, expanded and stagnated as each department struggled to come to terms with the challenges to its unique authority and as the newcomers struggled to gain a foothold.

In a fragile and vulnerable political system resistance to power-sharing, one side struggled to enter the arena of state management without having a reasonable capacity to absorb the responsibilities attached to the inherent duties.

Jennar observes that this is one of the most striking aspects of Cambodian society: “the protection of a party or clan takes precedence over respect for the law.”

The violence peace: A gradual buildup of tension in that period was caused by the convergence of two problems for Ranariddh and FUNCINPEC. First the CPP had effectively refused to grant positions of authority to Ranariddh’s followers at the grass-root level. Because theoretically more such positions were available in villages and hamlets, communes, and provinces than in Phnom Penh government offices, these location potentially provided a source of reward for the prince’s clients/supporters. However, Hun Sen maintained that many FUNCINPEC members were not equipped to take such positions due to lack of experience or extended absence from the country during the 1980s. This was a reasonable concern.[2]

The second problem is directly linked to this. Ranariddh was losing both power and face. One observer claimed that “Ranariddh…had failed to establish a clear sense of direction”.

Members were disappointed that Ranariddh would not confront the concerns of the party face to face had noted his weakness and this appears to have been a rallying call, underpinned by a mere rhetoric.

Shortly after the congress, senior FUNCINPEC representatives publicly declared that the party was “ready to withdraw from the coalition government of the CPP continued to ignore power-sharing arrangements made after the 1993 elections.[3]

CPP sources, and others, claimed at the time that FUNCINPEC had commenced a “strategy of provocation”. It was stated that the rational behind the FUNCINPEC Congress was to “gain lost political ground by creating a crisis in which [Hun Sen] would make a fetal mistake that would then benefit Prince Ranariddh.”

“The bounds of the expressible”: In the year that followed, Ranariddh continued to aggravate relations with Hun Sen and used his former allies in the 1980s, the Khmer Rouge, to accomplish this. Despite the Khmer Rouge being outlawed, Ranariddh signed an agreement with them that effectively recreated the alliance of the 1980s, ranged against Hun Sen and the People’s Republic of Kampuchea, as the State of Cambodia was then known.

The latter (Hun Sen) had been busy with the Khmer Rouge also, in secret talks with one of Pol Pot’s former lieutenant, Ieng Sary. The difference between the two approaches was that while Ranariddh sought alliance with the Khmer Rouge against the CPP, the CPP sought to break up the Khmer Rouge and integrate some of them into the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces.[4]

Hun Sen was not negotiating to create an alliance against a coalition “ally.” His motto in this sense was “unity,” not “fragmentation.” His approach, well documented, was successful and Ieng Sary’s faction came over to the government in 1996 in return for the preservation of Ieng Sary’s semiautonomous fiefdom around the Pailin area of northwestern Cambodia, rich in timber and gems.

Given the increased number of politicians and the need to accommodate them politically in positions of power and authority from which to generate cash remunerations, the solution lay in creating more jobs while at least maintaining the forms of democratic process. In accordance with this, a new political structure was created in the form of bicameralism. Thus, the National Assembly would now be accompanied by the provision of a non-elected Senate.[5]

Internal FUNCINPEC corruption was also an issue, according to the sources involved. A core difference, however, is that Ranariddh has learned the error of his ways and is working to enhance his own advancement as far as possible.

[1] Chumnith’s note: the lack of qualified and dedicated staff is what causes the demise of FUNCINPEC, BLDP, and Sam Rainsy parties.
[2] Chumnith’s note: And Hun Sen understood this very well.
[3] This was an empty threat. This type of political maneuvering shows how much Khmer leaders/politicians lack the insight into the true situation. It is typical and often repeated.
[4] Technically and politically Hun Sen was correct and had outmaneuvered Ranariddh.
[5] The Senators were appointed or rather obtained their seats through the power of dollars.

How to Behave : Buddhism and Modernity in Colonial Cambodia 1860 - 1930

2007-07-13T13:15:00.000-06:00

Excerpted from
HOW TO BEHAVE
Buddhism and Modernity in Colonial Cambodia
1860 – 1930
By Anne Ruth Hansen

Introduction:
Pali scholar Ukña Suttantaprija Ind wrote, “What is Dhamma in these times?” He went on to consider the moral values most necessary for living elūv neh, “right now,” contrasting the “old” with the “new,” and examining the gatilok tmi dael koet man loen, “modern morality that has arisen.” It is necessary “in these present times,” he wrote, for “persons who are trying to be good and pure” to be able to clearly recognize “what is worldly {behavior} and what is Dhammic {behavior}.

Chapter 1: Defending the Jeweled Throne – Khmer Religious Imagination in the nineteenth century

The moral development of individuals was determined by action or kamma, and the benefit or harm it created.

Their new reinterpretations deemphasized the ubiquity of the Bodhisatta as moral exemplar, insisting instead on the need for all Buddhists – lay and monastic, ordinary and exemplary – to bring their everyday, individual behavior in line with the Dhamma-vinay, the teaching of the Buddha.

While powerful persons are understood in his literature to derive their power from merit, part of their merit lies in their recognition of the limitations of worldly power, which is always subordinate to spiritual power.

THE MORALLY CONSTRUCTED COSMOS.

Because of their inability to control their cravings and desires, human being are forced to organize their societies under a king, the best of whom are known as cakkavattin, kings who promulgate and uphold the Buddhist teachings.

The two major divisions are referred to in Khmer sources as the kapps of decline and prosperity. The kapp of decline, samvatta or kappavinas, is the “devolving” or diminishing kapp, in which the human life span grows increasingly shorter as the ten kinds of bad or non-beneficial actions (dasa akusalakammapatha) are introduced. These ten actions are theft, murder, lying, malicious speech, improper sexual behavior, harsh speech, frivolous speech, jealousy, malice, and wrong view. At the kapp’s end the world is destroyed by means of fire, water, and wind.

Chapter 2: Buddhist Responses to Social Change

The literary preoccupation with depicting meritorious persons, righteous kings, and the immutability of karmic law in the latter part of this volatile century, I have suggested, might be read as the reaction to the instability of chaotic times and a growing uneasiness about the viability of these conceptions as description of the world.

SOCIAL ORDER

Graphically referred to by one British diplomat of the time as the “dismembering of Kamboja,” much of the precariousness of Khmer life in the early 19th century was the legacy of its geographical situation between two rival powers of Siam and Vietnam. Political power during this period in Southeast Asia was centered in the courts of kings and their vassals, while royally appointed governors and ministers levied taxes and corvée labor at the local level. The wars of the period, fought with army raised by the provincial ministers and officials, caused massive destruction in many regions of Cambodia. Entire populations fled into the forests or were captured as prisoners of war and forcibly relocated with the conquering armies, the survivors destined for slavery.
A Khmer verse chronicle translated by David Chandler described a Siamese attack on Phnom Penh in 1833:
“The took everything away, and burned what had been people’s houses, until not one of them remained; they took off everyone’s possessions, masters’ and slaves’ alike, and they carried off all the people until not a man was left.”

The poem continues with the account of a Vietnamese attack several years later. Khmer families, including the patroness whose experience the poem chronicles, were forced to flee into the forest to escape the Vietnamese troops:
“Their misery was great. There was no food at all, no fish, no rice, nothing normal to stave off their hunger; instead, they dug for lizards, without pausing to think. …They hunted saom roots in the depths of the forest, and other roots as well to make into a kind of soup…They are like this until their hunger went away, but it was hard to swallow the food; they sat silently besides the road, intensely poor, and miserable[1]”

French and British sources, corroborated by Thai sources as well, indicate the high toll in human suffering that the relocations of such large populations engendered. In his 1821 – 1822 journal of diplomatic visits to Siam and Cochin-China, John Crawfurd writes of the Siamese,
“Their wars are conducted with odious ferocity. Prisoners of rank are decapitated, and those of the lower orders condemned to perpetual slavery, and labour in chains. The peasantry of an invaded country armed or unarmed, men, women, and children are indiscriminately carried off into captivity, and the seizure of these unfortunate persons appears to be the principal object of the periodical incursions which are made into an enemy’s territory.”
In 1834, a French priest named Father Regereau described the capture of Khmer prisoners by Siamese troops:
“The manner in which the Siamese make war is to seize all of the property that they encounter, to destroy and set fire to all of the places through which they pass, to take prisoners and slaves, ordinarily killing the men and seizing the women and children…If during the journey, they cannot march further, they strike them, they maltreat them, they kill them, insensitive to their weeping and moaning, without pity they massacre the little children in sight of their mothers.”

[1] The same kind of experience that myself and millions of Khmer experienced in 1975 and again in 1979. Could it be that history repeats itself?

NOTE FROM GOOD KARMA: HOW TO FIND IT HOW TO KEEP IT

2007-01-19T15:41:00.000-06:00

NOTE FROM
GOOD KARMA
HOW TO FIND IT AND KEEP IT
By: Joan Duncan Oliver

Chapter 1: What is Karma?

Karma is a Sanskrit word meaning “action,” though it’s often used to refer to both an action and its results.

Karma isn’t luck or destiny – luck suggests randomness; destiny, a lack of choice. Nor it is the voice if the gods trying to keep us in line. Karma is a description of how moral law operates.

…the Buddha refined the teachings, emphasizing volitional behavior and responsibility: we are the choice we make.

According to this doctrine, the soul or consciousness evolves over multiple lifetimes, all the while amassing karma arising from thoughts, words, and deeds. Karma not “cleared” in one incarnation is carried over to the next.

…Free will is integral to karma. Without free will, change would be impossible.[AH1]

Buddhism is a non-theistic philosophy: its adherents follow precepts grounded in principles of non-harming that the Buddha perceived directly at the time of his great awakening.

The Abrahamic religions hold that sin can be erased by God’s grace, here or in the hereafter. But for Buddhists, there is no divine force meting out reward and punishment, no Judgment Day or heavenly reprieve – only the inexorable force of karma.

…the focus is on intention: are you operating from your noble instincts – courtesy, compassion, wisdom – or is your behavior shortsighted and selfishly motivated?

Chapter 2: Setting your destiny

The law of Karma simply says that every action has a consequence. What happened in the past brought us to the present moment, but what happens from here isn’t set in stone. We have choices.

To that extent, we’re accountable for our dramas, for creating our own heaven and hell. Our choices influence the course of our daily lives.

Chapter 3: Making the right decisions

Buddhist teaching says that Karma arises from volitional words and deeds – the conscious choices we make. We’re not accountable for unconscious or involuntary actions.

Chapter 4: Discovering the true you

Unfortunately, we can’t just set aside what we don’t want to think about and assume that it will go away.

When we’ve exhausted all the excuses for why life isn’t working – other people, bad luck, misalignment of the stars – we’re left with the possibility that the answer lies within. Nine times out of ten, it’s our fears or doubts or attitudes – carryovers from the past – that are getting in the way of accomplishing what we want.

To break the cycle of Karma, you have to break the cycle of unskillful behavior. You can’t keep saying and doing the same things and expect better results. When you see your behavior clearly you can frame new responses. There are many techniques for increasing self-awareness. Most involve mindfulness – observing what is happening in the present moment: your thoughts, emotions, and bodily sensations.

Chapter 5: Living passionately

As Mathieu Richard, a Tibetan Buddhist monk, explains: “the more you look at anger, the more it disappears … like the frost melting under the morning sun.”

Chapter 6: Shaping your reality

We’d like to believe that our thoughts are inconsequential, but the truth is just the opposite. “The thought is father to the deed,” as the saying goes. Thoughts are the energy driving speech and action. Without thoughts there would be no Karma.[AH2]

When tempted to do anything in secrete, ask yourself if you would do it in public. If you would not, be sure it is wrong.

Chapter 8: Living truthfully

Often the issue isn’t whether or not we should be honest but how we express our feelings. Try to see the situation from the other person’s perspective before you open your mouth.[AH3]

But candor without wisdom or compassion diminishes both sender and receiver. Kindness, on the other hand, bathes everyone in a positive light.

Chapter 9: Opening hand and heart

We shouldn’t give to the detriment of our own welfare, but most spiritual traditions hold that generosity involves at least some self-sacrifice. It’s the best antidote to greed. Giving only what you don’t want – and only when asked – is the lowest form of generosity, according to Buddhist teachings. The highest form, “kingly” or “queenly” giving, involves the very best if what you have – what you would want for yourself.

Chapter 18: Wiping the slate clean

For Buddhists, there’s no external force promising deliverance. As the Theravada Buddhist teacher Mahasi Sayadaw explained, “a Buddhist who is fully convinced of the law of Karma does not pray to another to be saved but confidently relies on [himself] for his own emancipation..” In this, releasing Karma is a process – a by-product of awareness that emerges with time and effort. In place of prayers for grace are practices like meditation and yoga that allow us to “work creatively with our own suffering.”

[AH1]Chumnith: I am the maker of my own karma.

[AH2]Chumnith: “I think, therefore I am,” thus it follows “I do, therefore I will be.”

[AH3]Chumnith: In most cases, it is better to maintain or to remain, as the Buddha says, “ the noble silence.”

Sihanouk: Prince of light, prince of darkness

2007-01-16T15:35:00.000-06:00

NOTES FROM
SIHANOUK: PRINCE OF LIGHT, PRINCE OF DARKNESS

Chapter 1: All in one lifetime

Sihanouk’s mood swings between strident insistence on his correctness of his policies and his solutions and the readiness to threaten withdrawal from office, or even from the country, when he was opposed, were two sides of the same personality trait. Backed too often by sycophantic advisers who would not, or dared not, contradict his decisions, Sihanouk in his heyday seemed set endlessly to dominate Cambodian politics both domestically and in the international sphere.

Yet while Sihanouk’s personal life has been colorful in Western terms, it is well to remember that this has not, in itself, been the preoccupation for his compatriots. For most of them, his alliances, both brief and sustained, with many women were not a cause for criticism. What did come to worry the official classes of Phnom Penh was the free rein Sihanouk later gave to his most favored consort, Monique, for the greed she and her family clique displayed in the late 1960s played an essential part in Sihanouk’s overthrow in March 1970.

Soon after he was placed on the throne in 1941, the French Resident Superior in Cambodia, Gautier, pressed him to marry a wealthy commoner. Apparently, Gautier and the governor-general of Indochina, Admiral Decoux, thought that such a marriage would ensure that Sihanouk would follow the subservient model provided by the Vietnamese ruler, Bao Dai, who had married the daughter of a rich southern Vietnamese landowner and showed no inclination to question French control of his country.

Although he has seldom been close to any of his male children, his affection for some of his daughters has been important. He doted on Kantha Bopha, a daughter who died in the early 1950s and whose death reinforced Sihanouk’s determination to devote himself to continuing a political career. His affection for Bopha Devi and Botum Bopha was clearly real: it has lasted with the former and it heightens his passionate dislike of the Khmer Rouge who killed the latter.

Very importantly, Sihanouk had been ready until the early 1960s to heed the wise advice given him by his elder advisors. But by 1965 the Cambodian “oasis of peace”, which he constantly proclaimed his country to be, was sliding towards increasing involvement in the war being fought next door in Vietnam. At the same time the first public sign s were emerging of leftist political dissent that ultimately climaxed in the Khmer Rouge’s coming to power a decade later.

In Cambodia’s case the prince’s passion for film-making did matter, for it came at time when the Cambodian state was poised to slide into disaster. The conservative politicians who had seen their interest protected by their alliance with Sihanouk were no longer convinced that his policies served those interests. The men and women of the left, after years of being hounded by Sihanouk’s security police, were planning a move into full-scale resistance. And peasant discontent with a range of Phnom Penh’s policies led to outbreaks of major unrest.

His speech became more and more gloomy until, in April 1967, he made a fateful statement: “I act according to my conscience which is absolutely clear. Let those who disapprove of me come and take my place or do away with me.” Three years were to pass before his opponents on the right took him at his word.

Sihanouk reacted to reports of rebellion and disaffection in the harshest fashion. The politically conscious people in Phnom Penh was not greatly surprised when Sihanouk announced that he had personally call for the mass execution of the hill people in the northeastern Cambodia who had allied themselves with the growing communist-led insurgency in that region. And they had no doubt that Sihanouk had approved of another harsh order. This was an instruction that resulted in loads of severed heads being from Battambang province to Phnom Penh as evidence that the peasant rebellion in the northwest of the kingdom was being suppressed.

In the most honest of all his writings, Sihanouk has revealed the psychological trauma of his years as a prisoner of the Khmer Rouge after Pol Pot came to power, when, never sure whether he would live or die, he watched his brutish guards amusing themselves by torturing monkeys to death outside the house in which he was confined.

Sihanouk was not nor is Cambodia, but for a lifetime he has remained the principal actor on his country’s stage. Others have sought to share that position with him, but their roles have never matched his for longevity. Yet some of those other players deserve more attention than they have usually received and the cast is enormous when one reviews the prince’s more than 50 years as a public figure. Son Ngoc Thanh, for instance, was an early campaigner for Cambodian independence in the 1930s. After wartime exile in Japan he was briefly prime minister of Cambodia before the French reasserted control over the kingdom in 1945. His career later included time spent as a law student in France, as a leader of an anti-Sihanouk rebel force along the Thai-Cambodian border and, ultimately, as one of the plotters who overthrew the prince in 1970.

Assorted members of the royal family parade as near-permanent figures in Cambodia’s continuing drama. Sihanouk’s father, Suramarit, never came to the fore, despite his period as king following Sihanouk’s abdication in 1955. But Kossamak, his mother, was always a major influence on him and a powerful figure in her own right. She was venerated by her son, and the suggestion in a Western news magazine that she profited form brothels built on royal land she owned led to one of Sihanouk’s more pyrotechnic displays of rage. Prince Sirik Matak, Sihanouk’s cousin, who was once a trusted ally and then became a dedicated political opponent, deserve particular mention as one of the key figures in the 1970 coup.

Sons such as Naradipo and Ranariddh moved in and out of their father’s favor, but only his daughters seem to have managed to hold his affection for prolonged periods.
For years, until his downfall in 1970, a group of senior advisors was closely associated with Sihanouk. In the 1950s and 1960s their names recur in cabinet after cabinet: Penn Nouth, who stood by Sihanouk in good times and bad for more than 30 years; Son Sann, the courtly advisor on economic affairs who fell out with Sihanouk in the late 1960s; Nhiek Tioulong, the bluff Sino-Cambodian whose devotion to Sihanouk led to his agreeing to play the part of an ageing roué in Sihanouk’s first feature film, Apsara; General Lon Nol, the man who commanded Sihanouk’s armed forces before overthrowing the prince and then, crippled, militarily incompetent and in thrall to astrologers and mystics, lost the war against the Khmer Rouge; Kou Roun, Sihanouk’s sinister minister of the interior who controlled the secret police and ended his career as a night watchman on Paris.

Yet how much of Sihanouk’s career has, in fact, been an illusion, a series of dramatic episodes in which his energy and flamboyance have hidden the fact that he could rarely shape events rather than react to them? A dispassionate view bolsters the conclusion that Sihanouk was only rarely able to choose courses of action rather than trims his sails to winds he could not control. What is remarkable is the extent to which he has made the most of limited opportunities and in so doing remained in power for so long.

Chapter 2: Unexpected king

During the early decades of the 19th century it was scarcely that, as Thailand and Vietnam contended for dominance over the pitifully weak Cambodian court, Vietnam gaining the ascendancy in the 1830s.

The memories of this period has remained deeply impressed in Cambodia consciousness, for while the Vietnamese exercised control over the kingdom, ruling for a time through a puppet queen, they sought to transform the country into an approximation of their own. The prerogatives of the royal family were attacked, an attempt was made to substitute the Vietnamese style of provincial administration for the existing Cambodian structure, and Cambodian officials were ordered to dress in the same manner as Vietnamese mandarins.

Finally, as the Vietnamese exercised control over Cambodia they acted against Buddhism, the national religion which commanded the respect of prince and peasant alike. By desecrating pagodas and persecuting monks, the Vietnamese struck at a central element of Cambodian identity.

The harshness of the regime the Vietnamese imposed on Cambodia sparked a major rebellion in 1840, which for a time seemed likely to threaten Vietnam’s control.

Between 1841 and 1848, Thailand gradually asserted its influence over Cambodia, backing the accession to the throne of its chosen nominee, King Ang Doung. He was the last Cambodian to rule free of direct foreign control until 1953.

Although Cambodia chroniclers and historians have celebrated Ang Doung’s rule as a period of high achievement, his actions were still constrained by his dual vassalage to the Thai and Vietnamese courts. His awareness of these constraints led him to make tentative efforts to secure assistance from France to bolster his country’s independence. These efforts led eventually to the imposition of a French protectorate over Cambodia in 1863, three years after Ang Doung’s death.

Poorly informed though they were about much in the weak kingdom, the French knew enough to be aware that Norodom, the man named to be Ang Doung’s successor, was a prince who had spent much of his life as a part-guest, part-hostage at the Thai court in Bangkok.

Largely in response to French pressure, and still concerned not to anger the Thai king, Norodom signed a protectorate treaty with France in August 1863. Under the treaty’s terms, Norodom ceded control of his country’s foreign relation to France in return fro French protection of Cambodia, recognition of the king’s sovereignty, and a pledge to assist him to maintain order within the kingdom.

Norodom was to reign 40 years and to found the Norodom branch of the Cambodian royal family. Unbiased commentators testified to his lively intelligence and his deep sense of the dignity of kingship. But for most of the French officials who dealt with Norodom throughout his long reign the king was an oriental despot.

Time and again in his succeeding years Sisowath demonstrated his willingness to work with the French to advance their aims. Yet it was not until 1897 that he was given a firm promise that he would succeed Norodom.

The best evidence suggests that Norodom opposed such an outcome, hoping that one of his sons would succeed him. The likelihood of this happening was diminished by the outspoken anti-French activities of two of those sons, Doung Chacr and Yukanthor, each of whom was sent into exile as punishment.

The lives lived by the king and his officials, The French administrators, and the Chinese merchants who dominated commerce in the capital was sharply different from the lot of the peasants in the countryside.

What can be said with certainties is that for many peasants their daily existence involves a harsh grind of long physical labor, indebtedness to Chinese rice merchants and the ever-present risk of being robbed or murdered by the bandits who roamed the countryside.

Not only the French knew little peasant life. Few members of the large royal family knew or cared about events outside the capital.

Kossamak, Sihanouk’s mother, was more interested in her son and became a major influence in his adult life.

Sihanouk lived in a world in which the word and comforting presence of women was a dominance feature.

Sihanouk also noted wryly that he saw King Monivong handling, or failing to handle, affairs of state. The picture he leaves of Monivong is a graphic one. The king, in his 60s, surrounded himself with the women of his household and his many offspring. He took no interest of the details of administration. He signed the paper brought to him for validation without bothering to read them while lying in a hammock. His predecessors, Sihanouk recalls, were nothing more than parrots trained by the French to say “yes”.

As the 1930s drew to a close the French were once again debating who should succeed to the throne. Although other names were considered, the French authorities increasingly directed their attention to the merits of Sihanouk’s father, Suramarit, and his uncle, Monireth.

By the mid-1930s, Suramarit was under consideration as a successor to King Monivong. As debate about the desirability of once more having the Norodom on the Cambodia throne continued among senior French officials, Suramarit met this requirement.

Those French officials who favored Monireth’s candidacy argued for his worthiness as a French–trained officer with a reputation for being straightforward, even blunt. In the light of the contending claims put forward on behalf of the two princes, the French minister of the Colonies, George Mandel, summoned both of them to Paris so that could choose between them. Having met them, there is no firm evidence that he made a choice; instead he postponed the decision.

Both Norodoms and Sisowaths claimed there had been attempts to bribe French officials and a strong oral tradition persisted that there was a falling out between King Monivong and his son Monireth because of the latter’s choice of a wife. (Monireth had married a vivacious and handsome Rosette Poc, the daughter of a senior official, who had previously had been the mistress of a number of Frenchmen.)

In his defense of his wartime actions, Decoux writes of the reasons of “high policy” that he took into consideration in supporting Sihanouk’s selection for the throne. Although not elaborated further, these words can only be taken to mean the concerns the governor-general had for the maintenance of France’s position in Indochina.

Easiest to assess and dismiss as having no major importance is Sihanouk’s own suggestion that he gained the throne because Decoux’s wife found him charming.

Did Decoux really believe that a prime reason for choosing Sihanouk was to end the rivalry between Norodoms and Sisowaths that had existed since the 19th century?

A considered answer would take account of the following points. A concern to have an easily controlled youth on the Cambodian throne, rather than have even the marginal risk of an older man who might stand in the way of the implementation of some French policies, was without doubt the main reason for the choice of Sihanouk.

Chapter 3: Marechal, nous voila

Without question, Son Ngoc Thanh and his close associates, Pach Chhoeun and Sim Var, represented the first stirrings of modern nationalism in Cambodia.

Thanh’s father was an ethnic Cambodian; his mother has been variously described as Vietnamese or Sino-Vietnamese.

A measured assessment of Sihanouk’s life during the war years (Second World War) needs to balance his subservience to the French against the opportunities they gave him to have more contact with his countrymen than any other Cambodian ruler had ever enjoyed. The motives of the French in encouraging Sihanouk’s exposure to the Cambodian population were self-serving, but in pursuit of their own interests they further reinforced the symbolic importance of the Cambodian monarchy.

Among the demands placed on Cambodia’s rural population by the French administration during the war was the requirement that, beyond conserving the absolute minimum for the own use, the peasantry had to sell all of the fish oil they produced to the government. Equally, they had to sell their entire production of kapok to the administration so it could be exported to Japan. Sihanouk’s protests against these measures were of no avail. Equally unavailing were his protests against continuing efforts by the French to promote the Romanization of the Cambodian writing system and the substation of the Gregorian calendar for the traditional Cambodian calendar, in which the New Year begins in April.

Sihanouk’s account of his protests against these proposed changes are quite believable, including his claim that, in relation to the Romanization issue, he thought seriously of abdicating. He was dissuaded from doing so by his parents, who reminded him of past French readiness to exile fractious members of the royal family who had opposed the colonial power.

Ranking first among Sihanouk’s pleasures were women. Rejecting the urgings of the French that he follow Bao Dai’s example and marry a solid bourgeois, he readily found distraction within his own court.

Charles Meyer, Sihanouk’s longtime French advisor, provided a catalogue of the women who have borne Sihanouk’s acknowledged children. The first was a commoner, Moneang Kanhol, who was mother to Princess Bopha Devi (borne 1943) and then prince Rannariddh (1944).

Next was princess Monilessan, who as a member of the frequently intermarried Cambodian royal family was Sihanouk’s aunt. She became the mother of Naradipo (1946), whom Sihanouk was later to name as his successor. Another princess and aunt, Pongsanmoni, became the mother of four of Sihanouk’s sons, Yuvanath (1943), Ravivong (1944), Chakrapong (1945), and Khemnurakh (1949). Their daughters were Soriyaraingsey (1947) and Botum Bopha (1951).

A Laotian woman, Mam Manivann, was mother to another two daughters, Sucheatvateya (1953) and Arunrasmey (1955). But the most enduring of Sihanouk’s relationship has been the one with Monique Izzi, the Eurasian beauty who bore him two sons, Sihamoni (1953) and Narindarapong (1954). None of these women ranked as official consorts under traditional Cambodian law. This title was reserved for Princess Thavet Norleak, a cousin of Sihanouk who was largely hidden from public view throughout his years in power and who bore him no children.

This catalogue of consorts and children is far from complete. The important point once again is that Sihanouk’s rabbit-like behavior was not in itself a cause for criticism by his compatriots, most certainly not in his early years on the Cambodian throne.

By the standards of his royal predecessors, Sihanouk’s enthusiasm for women has been restrained. His great-grandfather, Norodom I, maintained a female establishment in the hundreds, though not all of these women shared his bed. Monivong, Sihanouk’s immediate predecessor, was said to have had 60 wives. The fact of royal polygamy has never troubled Cambodians.

Only when Sihanouk’s amatory life became entangled with politics, as happened many years later, would whom he took to bed become important.

The young king set about clearing the palace of the seemingly innumerable members of the royal family and their servants and retainers who had turned its buildings and grounds into something resembling a vast transit camp. On his orders the provision of opium to members of the royal family and to some senior officials was terminated, so ending a practice which the French had encouraged from the time of Norodom I onwards.

On March 9, 1945, in a brief and largely bloodless coup de force the Japanese disarmed the French military and interned them and French civilian officials. Four days later Sihanouk, acting under Japanese tutelage, proclaimed the emergence of his country from French “protection” as the independent state of Kampuchea.

And Sihanouk was ill-prepared indeed for his new role. The nearly four years that had passed since he was designated king had brought no notable development of political maturity and the knowledgeable, if critical, long-time advisor Charles Meyer is not alone in arguing that some years were still to pass before Sihanouk seriously engaged himself in affairs of state rather than making the pursuit of pleasure his dominant concern.

Any study of the prince will fail to understand adequately the ebb and flow of Sihanouk’s emotions and his almost pathological inability to accept criticism.

Apparently attracted to the idea of Cambodia’s regaining its independence at the time of the coup de force, Sihanouk’s most significant political decision was to ask the Japanese to permit Son Ngoc Thanh to return to Cambodia from his exile in Japan. Given the later bitter enmity between Sihanouk and Thanh, the irony of his request needs no emphasis, not least since Sihanouk and Thanh were at odds before the end of 1945. David Chandler could well be right in suggesting that Sihanouk may have acted as he did because of urgings from his father Suramarit, who had been on friendly terms with Thanh during the 1930s.

Chapter 4: The return of the French

The months following the Japanese coup de force were profoundly important for the future course of Cambodian’s political history, but despite his later self-justificatory accounts, there is real difficulty in assessing Sihanouk’s role during this period. When all the evidence is reviewed, a strong impression remains that he was swept along by events rather than helping to shape them.

After the Japanese coup, Sihanouk assumed the tile of prime minister in addition to continuing his role as the monarch.

One of Sihanouk’s first acts in the new order was to match action to his earlier complaints about Gautier’s Romanization of the Khmer alphabet and introduction of the Gregorian calendar. On 14 March, Sihanouk revoked these measures.

Little that Son Ngoc Thanh did within Cambodia survived his subsequent overthrow and, strikingly, his domestic program was not marked by any dramatic measures aimed against the monarchy. Although he clearly believed that as prime minister he had the right to determine the political course of Cambodia, he showed no intention of converting Cambodia to a republic and, as already noted, he urged Sihanouk not to abdicate. But in preparing to oppose France’s return to Indochina Thanh placed himself in sharp opposition to the many members of the Cambodian elite who felt strongly that their interests and that of Cambodia as a whole would be better served by cooperation with France. Men such as Monireth, who held a commission in the French army, and Khim Tit, Son Ngoc Thanh’s minister for defense and an unquestioned Francophile, became increasingly concerned as Thanh sought to establish links with the emerging communist-dominated regime in Vietnam. The suggestion that Cambodians might join with Vietnamese to oppose the French return by force was anathema to conservative forces in Phnom Penh. Of equal concern to these forces was the extent to which Thanh appeared ready to rely on the support of Vietnamese resident in Phnom Penh. The fact that Thanh was reputed to be half Vietnamese himself added to the growing sense if unease his actions generated.

On October 8, Khim Tit suddenly left for Saigon with Gallois. Once there he held discussions with the head of the French military mission, General Leclerc. A week later Leclerc flew from Saigon to Phnom Penh, personally arrested Thanh, and took him back to Saigon. Tried as “traitor” in 1947, Thanh was sentenced to twenty years imprisonment, a sentence that was soon commuted to exile in France. For the next four years Thanh lived comfortably in France, completing the law studies he had begun many years before.

Within Cambodia, the balance of power had clearly moved back in favor of the conservatives epitomized by King Sihanouk’s uncle, Prince Monireth, who favored cooperation with the French rather than confrontation. Monireth assumed office as prime minister in Thanh’s place on 17 October, certainly with the French backing and, as best can be determined, without opposition from Sihanouk, who seemed to have played an essentially passive role at this critical time.

By January 1946, the French and Monireth had agreed to a modus vivendi. Writing of this agreement, Sihanouk has been at pains to distance himself from it, describing his uncle as “having taken it upon himself” to sign the document in company with General Leclerc.

The high point of Sihanouk’s visit to France in 1946, he makes clear in his memoirs, was his “private” visit to Charles de Gaulle at Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises, when Madame de Gaulle herself served the afternoon tea. De Gaulle, recounts Sihanouk, “scarcely spoke of Cambodia’s independence”, but rather of the need for leaders to assure that national unity was achieved in their countries.

As it was, there was enough in the modus vivendi to give temporary satisfaction to both the negotiating sides, if not to those who rejected the basis on which discussions had been joined. Under the terms of the agreement, France was to return to a Cambodia that was no longer styled a protectorate, but rather an autonomous kingdom within the French union. Although France was to control the key areas of defense and foreign affairs, the modus vivendi document recognized that the king had authority in internal affairs. Importantly, the agreement stipulated that further negotiations needed to take place. To this end, a Franco-Cambodian commission was to be set up to draft a constitution and seek the restitution to Cambodia the western provinces seized by Thailand in 1941.

The second of these tasks was achieved before the end of 1946, largely thanks to pressure by the United States on a Thai government anxious to show its repentance for having sided with Japanese through much of the war. Establishing a satisfactory constitution was another matter altogether, and a review of the maneuvering that accompanied its formulation makes dusty reading. Yet the detail of what took place cannot be disregarded, for it holds clues to the failures of Sihanouk and his supporters and opponents to find a political system that could accommodate their conflicting interests.

For the moment, the issue of Cambodia’s independence became less important in the world of Phnom Penh politics than the problem of reaching agreement on the kind of political system Cambodia should have.

Among key features of the initial draft were provisions for a limited male suffrage; this would elect an advisory assembly whose power would be subordinate to those of the king.

If the conservatives were ready to accept a constitution cast in these terms, the same was not true of a number of young, energetic Cambodians who now began to exercise an influence on the developing political process. Chief among them were a member of the Sisowath branch of the royal family, Prince Youthevong, and a young school teacher, Chheam Van. Both held French university degrees, Youthevong a doctorate in science and Van a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts, and as a result of long residence in France they were better acquainted than most of their fellow Cambodians with the theory and practice of democratic government. For Youthevong and those who grouped about him, the proposed constitution was not acceptable because of the power it left in the hands of the king. The system, to which Cambodia should aspire, they argued, was a constitutional monarchy with real power vested in an elected parliament. It was in this atmosphere of increasing politicization that King Sihanouk entered the fray. In April 1946 he promulgated two key amendments to the draft constitution.

In 1946 the number of dissidents was small. This was true both of those dedicated to opposing arrangements that allowed the French to return and of those who combined opposition to the French with adherence to left-wing policies.

Dissidents of both right and left laid claim to the title Khmer Issaraks. Initially, just as their numbers were small, so was their influence. And whether of the left or right, they depended for their existence on supports from foreigners. In the case of Prince Norodom Chantaraingsey, early support from Thailand was important.

For those on the left, linkage with the much stronger Vietnamese communist movement was of great importance and among those who emerged as leaders of left-wing bands part-Vietnamese parentage was common.

The extent to which nationalist and leftist groups joined in common cause to oppose the return of the French is still a matter for argument. Certainly there were some alliances, but many of these seem to have been tactical rather than strategic, and essentially of limited duration. Moreover, what passed for political dissidence was often little more than banditry cloaked in political justification.

In his view of the early postwar years, Charles Meyer characterizes Sihanouk as temporarily moved by “youthful ardor” in his search for ways to apply a democratic system to his country, but as devoting “the greatest part of his time to worthless activities and above all his affairs of the heart”. The evidence for the latter assertion is hard to ignore. By 1946, still only 24 years old, Sihanouk had fathered six acknowledged children.

His uncle Monireth firmly opposed any effort to achieve a sudden break with France. Like many of his generation, he did indeed see France as capable of playing protector’s role, most particularly against the ambitions of Vietnamese revolutionaries, but also against Thailand. Other, non-royal advisors, of whom Penn Nouth was to emerge as of one of the most important, were equally cautious and conservative.

Facing problems for which there was no immediate solution, Sihanouk time and again has withdrawn from confrontation. Frequently he has done so expecting that those opposing him would come to their senses and bend to his will.

But for long periods, he was content to turn his back on the world of politics and to find solace in women, sports, and cinema. The attraction of the last, dating as it did from early childhood, suggests a personality deeply attracted to idealized solutions, which right triumphing over wrong and the hero over the villain, and with everything ending happily.

Chapter 5: From the chrysalis, slowly

For the subterranean growth of the radical left was the counterpoint to the dominant theme of Cambodia’s modern history: the failure of open politics to provide stable government, which led, ultimately, to the terrible years of the Pol Pot tyranny.

In 1946, of the three parties that contested the election, only one, the Democrats, could lay claim to anything like party organization and a party platform. That it could do so was due in large part to the energy and intellect of Prince Sisowath Youthevong, but his abilities were supported by those of a few other able men, particularly Sim Var and Ieu Koeuss, a scholarly and energetic figure originally from Battambang. Youthevong is one of the major “might-have-been” of modern Cambodian history, a fact that has not endeared him to Sihanouk. More than 30 years after Youthevong’s untimely death in 1947, Sihanouk chose to disparage him when he looked back at this period in his memoirs, apparently unable to abide the thought that there was a richly talented man who proved able to garner support at a time when he, as king, spent much of his time on the political sidelines. Curiously mean-spirited in his view of any of his compatriots who might be seen as more talented than himself, Sihanouk has been consistently resentful of this long-dead member of the royal family – a Sisowath, to add further offense – whose formal academic achievements were substantial and whose talents had been recognized by the French government.

The contrast between the social breadth of the support given the Democrats and that given the other two parties contesting the September 1946 election was sharp. Like the Democrats, the Democratic Progressive Party and the Liberal Party were also led by princes, but princes of a very different stripe from Youthevong. The Democratic Progressive Party was led by Prince Norodom Montana, while Prince Norodom Norindeth headed the Liberal Party. Despite their names, both these parties were essentially conservative in outlook and there was little in their policy programs to separate them. Both called for the eventual introduction of a constitutional monarchy. In the case of Norindeth’s Liberals, this was accompanied by a call for the maintenance of links with France – not surprisingly, since the French were secretly giving Norindeth financial support. To some extent Montana’s party could be regarded as linked with, if not actually representing, the commercially important Sino-Cambodian families in Phnom Penh.

The much greater appeal of the Democrats in comparison to the other parties was strikingly illustrated in the 1946 election. With universal adult male suffrage and with 60 percent of the electorate voting, the Democrats won 50 out of the 69 positions in the contest.

The landslide result seemed to assure the Democrats of a key role in determining how Cambodia would be governed in the years ahead. More immediately, Youthevong and his followers seemed poised to dominate the continuing discussion about the form of Cambodia’s constitution with the goal of reducing the king’s power. Yet none of this was to be. Within six years hopes for a parliamentary system had faded as political power passed firmly into Sihanouk’s hands. How did this happen?

View with the hindsight of nearly 50 years, and with the salutary record of the rejection of Western constitutional models by other former colonial states, the failure of the 1946-47 Cambodian constitution to provide a basis for stable government is not surprising. Most fundamentally, the constitution assumed that a population that had never experienced anything remotely like democracy could quickly adopt the attitudes and practices of a largely alien system. Complicating this fundamental problem were the inherent weaknesses of some of the constitution’s key provisions. On the model of the French Fourth Republic, power was divided between the executive and the legislature, but the legislature retained the right to bring down the executive should there be disagreements on policy. This arrangement resulted in protracted instability in France, an instability that was to be matched in Cambodia.

Further undermining the possibility of Cambodia’s experiencing a smooth transition to electoral politics were those provisions of the constitution relating to the appointment of ministers. With France once again as the model, the king was to designate the prime minister, and the prime minister to choose his ministers. None of these ministers needed to be members of the legislature, yet the cabinet so formed had to be approved, and even more importantly could be voted out of office, by the legislature. Put baldly but accurately, the system could only work if the king, his ministers, and the legislature were all of one mind on any major issue.

Sihanouk’s conservative advisors were concerned by what they saw as inherent risks in the kind of constitutional monarchy advocated by Prince Youthevong. With an eye to preserving their own influence, and attached to the ideal of a powerful monarch, they successfully called for provisions in the constitution that allowed the king to dissolve parliament on the advise of his prime minister.

Heng Pov

2007-01-15T08:04:00.000-06:00

I understand that what the government of Indonesia did was possibly contrary to its declared principles of human rights. However, we seem to have forgotten that as far as Heng Pov goes, he is reaping his own Karma now. Or to say it bluntly, what goes around comes around.

We do not know what he did before he was on the wrong side with Hun Sen; for sure, he was one of them. For sure he was doing what they were doing. This is nothing more than a case of "a drug deal gone bad."

Just because we are not happy with Hun Sen does not mean that we should go around supporting whoever is against Hun Sen. We have to be able to seperate a wolf from a German sheperd. And Heng Pov was not a German sheperd.

Cambodia New Deal

2007-01-14T11:53:00.000-06:00

NOTE FROM CAMBODIA’S NEW DEAL
A REPORT BY WILLIAM SHAWCROSS 1994

Chapter 1: Cambodia before the Paris accords

Cambodia is a victim of its geography and of its political underdevelopment. Its central drama resembles that of Poland; it is a small country (some 9 million people) overshadowed by two huge and threatening neighbors – 60 millions Thais (Siamese) to the west, and 70 million overcrowded Vietnamese to the east. Like Poland’s, Cambodia’s borders have constantly changed.

During the Angkor Empire from the ninth to the thirteenth centuries, the Khmer kings controlled a large part of what are now northeastern Thailand, southern Laos, and southern Vietnam.

Indeed, the country would have disappeared altogether, divided between Siam and Vietnam, if the French had not arrived and imposed a protectorate upon the moribund Cambodian monarchy in 1864.

Khmer Rouge rule left the country and its people deeply scarred. However, the invasion liberation for almost all Cambodians – soon became an occupation that the Vietnamese insisted was “irreversible.” Hanoi’s motives were strategic rather than humanitarian; it had long nurtured ambitions of dominating an Indochinese federation.

UNTAC
The UN was lamentably slow in deploying UNTAC’s elements and advance planning in New York was fragmented. At the beginning of 1992 fighting between the Serbs and Croats in the former Yugoslavia was already preoccupying the Secretariat. It quickly became evident that the UN was ill-prepared to mount such large peacekeeping operations.

Even the appointment of secretary-general’s Special Representative, Yasushi Akashi, a senior UN diplomat, was delayed. He arrived only in March 1992, along with the Force Commander, Australian Lieutenant General John Sanderson, and the heads of UNTAC’s components, some of whom had been recruited only at the last minute.

The anticipated deployment of the 16,000 multinational troops lagged behind schedule. Sanderson directed that infantry and other line units should arrive with 60 days’ supplies, so they could operate independently until external logistics support arrived. The Civilian Police and Civil Administration of UNTAC did not take similar initiative and, as a result, they arrived even later. Member governments of the UN often proved reluctant to release administrators, arguing that they themselves were short of qualified staff. Akashi later acknowledged that the UN must have seemed very inefficient to the Cambodian factions.

Even after the civilian administrators were finally deployed, UNTAC found itself unable to take control of the five key areas if defense, finance, foreign affairs, information, and public security, as Article 6 of the Paris Agreement demanded.

According to some defectors, the Khmer Rouge leaders were at first prepared to disarm and canton their troops. But by April 1992 they had become increasingly restive. They accused UNTAC of unduly favoring the Hun Sen regime and found excuses for complaint.

On May 30, 1992 the Khmer Rouge used a simple bamboo pole to prevent Akashi and Sanderson from transiting the Khmer Rouge area near Pailin in western Cambodia. Although the flimsy road block was not heavily defended, and the UN had every right to pass it, Akashi and Sanderson decided to make no such attempt.

Sanderson’s then deputy, the French General Michel Loridon, wanted to call the Khmer Rouge’s bluff and send UN troops into their areas at once. But Sanderson believed that such pressure might at once result in wider war.

By the end of 1992 UNTAC had in effect stopped trying to pursue the comprehensive political settlement spelled out in the Paris Agreement. Instead, it attempted merely to create a new Cambodia government with domestic and international legitimacy.

Throughout this period Prince Sihanouk was supposed to chair the Supreme National Council, but he spent large amounts of time out of the country. He visited North Korea, where poor communications kept him almost completely out of touch with Phnom Penh, and Beijing, where several meetings of the Supreme National Council actually had to be held.

At one such meeting on January 1993, Sihanouk demonstrated his management style by castigating a new FUNCINPEC member of the Supreme National Council, Sam Rainsy. The prince mocked him for his alleged political errors and even cast doubt on the state of his marriage. It was reminiscent of Sihanouk’s treatment of his court in the 1960s.

The Khmer Rouge embarked on a highly profitable assault upon the environment. With the help of the Thai Army and private Thai companies, they pillaged the fabulous store of timber and gems under their control. By the end of 1992 they were thought to be making as much as $20 million a month while inflicting appalling environmental damage.

Establishment of the new government
Ranariddh was not alone in viewing Sihanouk’s proposed new government as an attempt by Hun Sen and his hard-line colleague to remain in power behind the fig leaves of Sihanouk and FUNCINPEC. UN officials in Phnom Penh described Sihanouk’s action as an attempt at a constitutional coup and a violation of the Paris Agreement.

Since 1941 Sihanouk had been king, chief of state, prime minister, political leader, musician, cineaste, magazine editor, and exile. He had at times infuriated and horrified his friends and enemies alike. He had been vain, petulant, autocratic, and unpredictable, finding it hard to tolerate dissent and treating Cambodian politicians and foreign statesman as flunkies. He had sometimes made catastrophic errors, misjudging events and his own power to influence them.

Nonetheless, he had also demonstrated an acute intuition for the popular political will and had acted with astuteness, displaying both charm and tenacity. His principal and international ambitions had been to protect Cambodia from further encroachment by its neighbors and to preserve his own political power and place in history.

Chapter 2: The new politics

Cambodian society still needs to be completely overhauled.

The coalition
Ranariddh, his co-prime minister Hun Sen, and other leading members of the coalition sometimes showed more interest in foreign travel or in fripperies than in setting an agenda for the country. Too often FUNCINPEC’s leadership seemed more interested in cosmetic measures than in real changes.

Between $2 million and $4 million were spent on boat races and fireworks for the Independence Day celebration on 9 November 1993. Rannariddh ordered the Phnom Penh port on the river to be moved so that a park could be created. It sometimes appeared that the government was more concerned with décor than with reconstruction and that Rannariddh did not really enjoy facing the difficult decisions needed.

In March 1994 Rannariddh increased such concerns when he left Cambodia for a two-week stay in Aix-en-Provence, resuming his old teaching post. That seemed a strange priority for a new prime minister.

In early December Rannariddh called his new Minister of Information, Ieng Mouly, to ask about a proposed press conference by Hun Sen. Ieng Mouly knew nothing about it; the arrangements had been made exclusively by one of his CPP deputies, who had not bothered to inform the minister. More serious lapses occurred frequently.

FUNCINPEC had a basic problem: lack of its own personnel. Indeed, one must acknowledge that, without its coalition partner, it would have bee quite unable to function at all: the process of governing depended completely on CPP personnel in all the ministries.

Until 1994 FUNCINPEC had been a resistance movement rather than a political party; it had penetrated many branches of the CPP and the SOC (State of Cambodia), but it had not established an organized base in the country.

By early 1994 corruption also threatened to infect, if not destroy, the FUNCINPEC leadership.

Of the three principal political factions, FUNCINPEC is probably the poorest.

In early 1994 all popular expectations rested with FUNCINPEC and to a lesser extent with the BLDP. It was they, not the CPP, who were expected to deliver change. The CPP could afford to sit back – nothing was expected of them. For the Khmer Rouge, time was also a resource.

And yet, Rannariddh, facing a daunting test, had failed to establish a clear sense of direction. Given the extent of Cambodia’s needs in every sector of life, it was undoubtedly a hard task. But it had to be faced – as King Sihanouk frequently pointed out.

The Khmer Rouge and Thailand
The Khmer Rouge were seriously weakened by the election. But they still receive assistance from Thailand and remain a threat to the stability and integrity of the Royal Government.

The defection program could have been given a higher priority by the government. Instead, it has been badly managed and even counterproductive. Monies are scarce. Defectors have been greeted with poor conditions, even with brutality. Reeducation has been harsh; promises have been broken. The overall effect has been to discourage further defections. Some defectors said that while conditions under Khmer Rouge leadership were tough, those in the new Royal Army were often no better. They said that there was more corruption and pay was more erratic.

Foreign Minister Norodom Sirivudh has labeled Thailand “Enemy Number One” and accused it of “scandalous” behavior. In early January he demanded to know whether the Thai government supported the royal government or the Khmer Rouge. “We want a clear stand from Thailand,” he said. Thailand refused to give it.

One problem is Thai commercial activity. While investment is essential, the exploitative rapacity of Thai, or Sino-Thai businessmen, ably abetted by their peers in Malaysia and Singapore, threatens to destroy many Cambodian natural assets.

The uncontrolled ravaging of the land is also having a serious environmental impact. The river Sangke, leading from Pailin into the Great Lake, has been heavily polluted by the erosion caused by the open cast gem mines. It is posing a serious threat to the ecological balance of the northern end of the lake, which is Cambodia’s greatest source of natural wealth: fish.

Meanwhile, the Khmer Rouge and Tai military grow richer.

Monarchy
The Cambodian kingship has traditionally been elective rather than heredity. Article 14 of the new constitution restrict the choice. It states that the monarch must be “a member of the Khmer Royal Family, aged at least 30 years, coming from the blood line of the King Ang Duong, Norodom, or Sisowath.”

Parliament
The National assembly is, so far, a disappointment.

Chapter 3: The security dilemma

In Cambodia borders have always been bandits’ and rebels’ wonderland, as the government’s writ has faded the further it stretched from Phnom Penh. Over decades, uncontrollable borders have contributed significantly to the failure of the state. In the 1950s and 1960s the border with Thailand was haven to right-wing opponents of Prince Sihanouk. In the 1960s and 1970s, the borders with Vietnam and Laos were increasingly usurped by the communists. Today, the borders illustrated the corruption eating at every level of Cambodian society.

By April 1994 there were 2,000 generals and 10,000 colonels in the army. It was nothing short of grotesque.

There are many reasons for that. The first is fear of demobilization and its social consequences in a society where there is still no alternative employment. Second, there is no place for the Khmer Rouge. Third, there are fears that reduction might deter Khmer Rouge defections – because their soldiers had been promised positions in the united army if they came across.

The army is still poorly equipped, principally with only old Soviet and Chinese weapons. Apart from five M16 helicopters, it has no aviation. The navy consists of four or five serviceable Stenka patrol boats. The medical corps is poorly trained and has almost no equipment.

By the beginning of 1994, the Cambodian government had not provided donors or potential donors with a coordinated list of priorities and needs. Without some significant external support it will be difficult to maintain even the low level of effectiveness of the forces.

French military advisers reckoned that the ideal size of the army would be about 15,000 in all. Up to 50,000 was thought tolerable. Anything larger would cripple the economy. Political and military reality suggested it would be years before such reductions were achieved.

Chapter 4: The need for rehabilitation and assistance
The new government is essentially broke. The Soviet Union funded most expenditure in the 1980s but with the end of Soviet support in 1990s, the State of Cambodia’s budget went into free-fall.

Despite the progress, the budget situation is still vulnerable to a weak economy and military needs. The revenue system fails to tax entire sectors – including agriculture, which contributes 50 per cent of Cambodia’s gross domestic product (GDP). Until spring 1994 there had also been no taxes on income or consumption. Import duties have made up 60 per cent of government revenue, hardly a sufficient basis for domestic funding programs. Military and civilian service salaries make up 60 per cent of current expenditures, leaving precious little to spend on social welfare programs and, most important to growth, capital expenditures.

As a result of weak enforcement and low customs duties, Cambodia has become something of a regional hub for transit trade in the region, a development it can use to its advantage.

Between 1991 and 1993, Cambodia’s economy grew annually at 7-8 per cent and is now recovering from the slight sag of the uncertain election period a year ago. That high growth, however, was unbalanced and its impact limited. Expansion was largely due to UNTAC’s effect on the service and construction industries, and to the surge in foreign investment catering to UNTAC’s presence. It was centered in Phnom Penh, reaching only 15 per cent of the people.

At least for the present all this is widening the gap in loving standards between the urban and rural populations. Cambodia’s agriculture sector account for more than half of its GDP and employs 80-85 per cent of its labor. Prosperity in Phnom Penh is important but it will not much improve Cambodia’s chances for recovery.

Cambodia has virtually no family planning. On the contrary, the declaration of the Royal Government’s policies issued to the National Assembly at the end of 1993 announced its intention “of increasing the number of Cambodians quickly” because the country “faces neighbors that have seven to eight times more people.” But that racial imperative is likely to be counterproductive; a population that doubles in the next eighteen years (as Cambodia’s will at present rate growth) without massive accompanying investment would impoverish the country. Since no Cambodian government – now or before – has exhibited much interest in the plight of the deprived, farmers and their families flocked to the cities hoping to work or beg.

Currently, the Cambodian civil service employs about 147,000 personnel, or 1.7 per cent of the population – almost double what is usually considered the appropriate proportion for a developing country, let alone for a government that has ceased to perform many of the traditional functions of government. The size reflects in part the command and control economy installed by the Vietnamese but mostly the vast, thinly spread system of patronage through which ordinary Cambodians tapped the state apparatus as social security net.

Epilogue: The problems one year on

Exactly one year after the people made their stunning, good-tempered request for changed and better lives, Cambodia seemed at times to bear a startling resemblance to the early 1970s when corrupt generals of Lon Nol regime sold American-supplied arms to the Khmer Rouge and sent untrained, unpaid boys to fight them. In mid-1994 much the same sort of thing is happening again.

The immediate cause of the disarray was the string of serious military defeats that the government suffered in its attacks upon the Khmer Rouge in Anlong Veng and Pailin.

The stories from the attack on Pailin were indeed terrifying. “Generals” of the Royal Cambodian Army went around spray painting their names on doors of the houses they were each planning to loot, or where they intended to install their mistresses. May of the officers were drunk when a handful of Khmer Rouge counterattacked.

The fighting and destruction have had an appalling affect on confidence amongst both foreign investors and tourists.

One estimate is that the country has lost two years’ development in just a few weeks. And yet even this setback has not seemed to have instilled a sense of urgency in the government or the armed forces. In a brief visit at the end of May, this writer sensed that drift, indecision, and complacency are still the order of the day.

One foreign aid official recalled that a few weeks earlier, the traffic in Phnom Penh at the funeral of General Sak Sutsakhan had stretched around the block. Almost every car seemed to be a Mercedes. And almost everyone appeared to belong to a general. As already mentioned, there are now 2,000 generals in the Cambodian army and 10,000 colonels. Many of these “officers” are not even soldiers; they bought their stripes to be able to intimidate and extort more effectively.

The normal payroll of the entire army has now increased from the 128,000 registered by UNTAC’s Operation Paymaster to close to 160,000 today – eight or ten times the ideal size of the army.

FUNCINPEC’s inability to assume power after the election has induced a state of deadlock, in which the CPP still controls the army, the police, and much of the administration. To many observers the problem is that Rannariddh himself has done little to counter that demobilization by asserting firm leadership or even enunciating any vision for the country.

His critics believe he is happy with the trapping of power and unwilling to fight for the substance. Often Rannariddh seems to have surrendered real power to his co-prime minister, Hun Sen.
Hun Sen seems to some foreign officials in Phnom Penh to be a more serious politician than Ranariddh, but he is still locked into the intrigues, power struggles, and corruption of the CPP. He too has failed to set a defined political agenda for the nation.

Amongst ministries, Finance is still seen as the greatest success by donors. Sam Rainsy’s achievements are significant but the struggle for financial reform is an uphill one. He has managed to stabilize the currency, control inflation, and raise the tax revenues of the government. But he has two problems: He has to constantly fight the CPP’s resistance to change, and it has become clear that he is at odd with Ranariddh, who appears to dislike the praise the international community has given his minister of finance. Ranariddh has openly dismissed him as “our own Zorro” or Robin Hood.”

For his part, Rainsy has made no secrete of his belief that FUNCINPEC has done far too little to stand up to CPP bullying and corrupt practice. Rainsy’s largest problem (and that of the country) is the huge cost of the army. The Minister of Finance has no power to question any of the army’s demand for funds; he has to sign any invoices he is presented. World Bank officials in Washington say that unless this practice is ended soon, and overall military costs are cut back, the economy can never recover.

No restraint on the executive is coming from the National Assembly, which continues to disappoint. Few members of the Assembly ever go to their constituencies; most are more interested in spending their enormous salaries in Phnom Penh or even abroad. Too many of FUNCINPEC’s people are more involved in court intrigues than in national politics. No questions were asked in the Assembly about the military’s defeat in Pailin.

King Sihanouk’s political statements have been no less confusing. After apparently successful treatment for his cancer, the king spent six weeks in the country in April and May sowing confusion amongst different members of government; no one was quite certain what he wanted. He seemed at various times to support military attacks upon the Khmer Rouge, and to wish to see the movement outlawed. At other times, he worked diligently to set up “round table” talks in which the Khmer Rouge would participate. He even invited the Khmer Rouge leader, Khiev Samphan, to sleep at the palace to guarantee his safety in Phnom Penh. Khiev Samphan refused.

The Cambodian government’s principal wounds are self-inflicted, but there are no doubts that other serious blows are being administered by the continuing covert, yet blatant, assistant given by the Thai military officers to the Khmer Rouge.

The underlying truth is that a weak Cambodia has, for many years, been an ambition of Thai foreign policy.

The king perhaps does understand – and ministers from all parties need to – that in the world beyond Cambodia donor fatigue is a very real condition. Many of those most enthusiastic about helping Cambodia have finite resources -- of both patience and money – and there are many other areas of the world that command greater attention, for obvious and often good reasons. Russia and the Middle East are consuming more and more US resources. The people of Rwanda, Haiti, Somalia, Bosnia, Burundi, and many other places are suffering more now than the Cambodians. Cambodian ministers, especially the two prime ministers, must understand that the world does not owe them a living.

If the government does not learn from the lessons of Lon Nol, stamp out corrupt factionalism, and implement genuine reforms, the conditions of ordinary people will not improve and the appeal of the Khmer Rouge will grow.