Sam Rainsy Party and Others

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.

In remembrance of April 17, 1975

“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.”