REACHING OUT TO THE CHAM-MUSLIM COMMUNITY IN KAMPOT

Spencer Cryder
Tulane Law School, USA

Due to the extensive flooding in Kampot Province on 13 July 2009, the DC-Cam staff and legal associates arrived at Nurul-Ihshan Mosque in Tadib village slightly later than the scheduled eight o’clock start time. However, the flooding did not deter approximately two hundred villagers from attending our discussion on the Cham-Muslim experience during the Khmer Rouge period. The villagers sat on the floor, distinctly separated into male and female sections, with the older villagers near the front. I sat near a group of elderly women whose facial features – round faces and softer skin tones – initially struck me as unique. The organizer of the event, Farina So of DC-Cam, explained to me that this was a result of their Cham (Northern Vietnam) and Javanese ( Indonesia ) descent.

After an initial introduction by Farina, Youk Chhang asked that the group move in closer to promote a more intimate discussion. Thanks to the interpretation by Sayana Ser of DC-Cam, I was able to follow most of the morning’s discussions. Engaging primarily the elderly women, Youk first explained the developments at the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) and asked the villagers if they were interested in attending the ECCC for a day to observe the Duch trial. Although initially timid, around twenty individuals eventually raised their hands, the majority of whom were women. While not necessarily concerned with the proceedings before the ECCC, one woman explained that she wanted to attend the trial to see the face of the man who carried out such horrible atrocities, Duch. Others desired to attend the proceedings to confirm that after thirty years the perpetrators are being held responsible.

Based solely on the speakers’ body language, facial expressions, and frequent laughing, I imagined the victims were relating positive or humorous anecdotes. However, once Sayana began to translate one woman’s story concerning the murder and starvation of her relatives – from her sisters to her grandparents to her uncle – by the Khmer Rouge, I was struck by the woman’s cheerful demeanor as she recalled these tragedies. As a Westerner, I realized how differently Cambodians express their grief and tragedy. A tragic story in the West is often coupled with visible anguish and tears, whereas this woman conveyed her loss through nervous laughter and a smile. When Youk inquired into her ability to forgive the perpetrators, she flatly rejected the possibility of forgiveness. Her rejection persisted even when Youk asked about the teachings of her religion, Islam, in relation to forgiveness. You could see in her face that she knew from her life experiences and religious beliefs that she was supposed to grant forgiveness, but she was simply incapable of granting it. This exchange led to a concise answer when asked about what type of reparations the court could provide: None. Any reparation would be insufficient because the damage done to her life was irreparable – she would never have her family back.

The group’s openness and willingness to share their opinions and stories waivered at times, but many in the group welcomed the opportunity to share their experiences with the DC-Cam staff and the younger generations in attendance. The mere fact that we had all gathered – Khmer, Cham, American, etc., to distribute and receive the first ever textbook about the Khmer Rouge – seemed to instill a confidence in their storytelling that would have presumably been absent in a small group. The process of gathering everyone for this occasion appeared to validate their stories, validate their waiting for so many years for someone to recognize what had occurred to the Cham Muslims. This validation was most salient when Youk invited one of the younger members of the group to read a portion of the textbook that recounted the experiences of Cham Muslims during the reign of the Khmer Rouge. After finding a young person that was capable – and willing – to read, the group listened intently as the young man read to the group about the treatment of Cham Muslims. Even the teenagers in the crowd were attentive, implicitly acknowledging that the stories they had been told by the older generations were in fact true and are now enshrined in a book that would be read all over Cambodia and the world. This observation was further supported by villagers’ oral affirmation that the accounts in the textbook were accurate.

What I imagined would be an extremely painful task of survivors recounting their experiences, proved to be a cathartic release for the elderly and a stark realization or reminder to the youth that all of those events did in fact happen to their family members and neighbors. Some observers have argued that discussions of such a painful and traumatizing nature should only be done under the supervision of a psychiatric doctor. However, in a community such as the one we visited, I feel the group discussion was an appropriate vehicle, allowing for a release and an acknowledgement of the victim’s pain, while in turn reminding the younger villagers of their community’s past. While some of the Tadib villagers will never heal – or cannot heal – they realized the benefit of sharing their stories with their community. After the distribution of the textbooks, the villagers present at Nurul-Ihshan Mosque departed with a tangible affirmation of what happened during the Khmer Rouge regime. They also left with the knowledge that Cambodians throughout the country will be reading a textbook that tells a part of a dark corner of Cambodian history from the Cham Muslim perspective. While validation is neither reconciliation nor forgiveness, for a day, their stories were validated and now a piece of their story is part of how Cambodians will be taught about the Khmer Rouge period.