Mawlid ceremony is conducted to celebrate the birthday of Prophet Muhammad. In Cham word it is called “Maolot.” Within Muslim community in Cambodia this ceremony is carried on different days. The ceremony is usually done in the month called, in Cham words, Gati-ol Chim Klav. In Chan Kieb village, this year the ceremony was done on February 28, 2010. The ceremony has three main parts: the procession of food and offerings to the small, village mosque (locally called Surav), the group recitation of prayers and the cutting of baby’s hair. The ceremony was participated by men, women, children and adult. Chan Kieb village locates in Orussey commune, Kampong Tralach district, Kampong Chhnang province. It has 150 families. (text and photo by Kok-Thay Eng)
SEE PHOTOS: http://www.dccam.org/Projects/Public_Info/Photo/Mawlid_Ceremony_in_Chan_Kieb_Village/index.htm
Friday, March 5, 2010
Cambodia Tribunal Monitor: Discussion with University Students at National Polytechnic Institute of Cambodia
February 26, 2010
During the year-long break before the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC)’s next trial, it is imperative that the public continue receiving information about the judicial process. In addition to reaching out to survivors of the Khmer Rouge regime to explain the significance of the case against the four most senior Khmer Rouge leaders still living, DC-Cam will expand its outreach activities to reach young target groups with whom we have built connections in the past. University students who have participated in DC-Cam’s Student Outreach Program since 2005 have made numerous requests to DC-Cam for our assistance in participating in the tribunal process.
In the first stage of the Student Outreach program, university students were recruited to join the program during the summertime, when they received training on the ECCC law, the agreement between the Cambodian Government and the United Nations and other basic information on court’s work. After that they were sent to the provinces to distribute documents and explain to villagers about the ECCC process. These students in turn got the chance to speak to survivors and learn from their experiences under the Khmer Rouge. In the next phase, university students and other youths are being provided the opportunity to receive information about DK history and to learn about the judicial process through occasional study tours to DC-Cam, field trips, and visits to the ECCC.
Recognizing the importance of working with youth, DC-Cam, in cooperation with Northwestern University School of Law’s Center for International Human Rights, is making an effort to increase their understanding of the importance of ECCC proceedings by introducing the Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website or CTM (www.cambodiatribunal.org) to schools and universities in Cambodian cities. The Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website ― on which reports of ECCC hearings, video of the first trial’s entire proceedings, news and discussion on the proceedings and the tribunal generally are posted ― can play a prominent role in educating students about the tribunal. Student groups, who have access to the internet, will benefit greatly from the information provided. In addition to promoting these students’ discussion about the tribunal process, the information will provide them legal education.
On February 26, 2010, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang is invited to meet with 1000 students from National Polytechnic Institute of Cambodia to present on the work of DC-Cam, and its contribution to reconciliation in Cambodia . In addition, students will have an opportunity to receive information on the ECCC through Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website. Finally, the booklets “Genocide” that focuses on the importance of Case 002 involving the four senior Khmer Rouge leaders in custody will be distributed to the students after the speech. The agenda for the meeting is detailed as below:
9:00 am: Short remark by H.E. University Principle Bun Phearin and Nin Try, Professor of National University of Management
9:30 am: Youk Chhang, Director of Documentation Center of Cambodia
“Reconciliation in Cambodia ”
Sovanndany Kim, Team Leader of DC-Cam’s Cambodia Tribunal Monitor project
Presentation on Cambodia Tribunal Monitor Website (CTM)
10:30 am: Distribution of Booklet “Genocide: Who Are the Senior Khmer Rouge Leader to be Judged? The Importance of Case 002”
In Cooperation with Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center, CTM is funded by the J.B. and M.K. Pritzker Family Foundation of Evanston, Illinois (USA) through Northwestern University of Law’s Center for International Human Rights (CIHR). For more info, please contact: Vanthan Peoudara at 012 846 526.
During the year-long break before the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC)’s next trial, it is imperative that the public continue receiving information about the judicial process. In addition to reaching out to survivors of the Khmer Rouge regime to explain the significance of the case against the four most senior Khmer Rouge leaders still living, DC-Cam will expand its outreach activities to reach young target groups with whom we have built connections in the past. University students who have participated in DC-Cam’s Student Outreach Program since 2005 have made numerous requests to DC-Cam for our assistance in participating in the tribunal process.
In the first stage of the Student Outreach program, university students were recruited to join the program during the summertime, when they received training on the ECCC law, the agreement between the Cambodian Government and the United Nations and other basic information on court’s work. After that they were sent to the provinces to distribute documents and explain to villagers about the ECCC process. These students in turn got the chance to speak to survivors and learn from their experiences under the Khmer Rouge. In the next phase, university students and other youths are being provided the opportunity to receive information about DK history and to learn about the judicial process through occasional study tours to DC-Cam, field trips, and visits to the ECCC.
Recognizing the importance of working with youth, DC-Cam, in cooperation with Northwestern University School of Law’s Center for International Human Rights, is making an effort to increase their understanding of the importance of ECCC proceedings by introducing the Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website or CTM (www.cambodiatribunal.org) to schools and universities in Cambodian cities. The Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website ― on which reports of ECCC hearings, video of the first trial’s entire proceedings, news and discussion on the proceedings and the tribunal generally are posted ― can play a prominent role in educating students about the tribunal. Student groups, who have access to the internet, will benefit greatly from the information provided. In addition to promoting these students’ discussion about the tribunal process, the information will provide them legal education.
On February 26, 2010, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang is invited to meet with 1000 students from National Polytechnic Institute of Cambodia to present on the work of DC-Cam, and its contribution to reconciliation in Cambodia . In addition, students will have an opportunity to receive information on the ECCC through Cambodia Tribunal Monitor website. Finally, the booklets “Genocide” that focuses on the importance of Case 002 involving the four senior Khmer Rouge leaders in custody will be distributed to the students after the speech. The agenda for the meeting is detailed as below:
9:00 am: Short remark by H.E. University Principle Bun Phearin and Nin Try, Professor of National University of Management
9:30 am: Youk Chhang, Director of Documentation Center of Cambodia
“Reconciliation in Cambodia ”
Sovanndany Kim, Team Leader of DC-Cam’s Cambodia Tribunal Monitor project
Presentation on Cambodia Tribunal Monitor Website (CTM)
10:30 am: Distribution of Booklet “Genocide: Who Are the Senior Khmer Rouge Leader to be Judged? The Importance of Case 002”
In Cooperation with Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center, CTM is funded by the J.B. and M.K. Pritzker Family Foundation of Evanston, Illinois (USA) through Northwestern University of Law’s Center for International Human Rights (CIHR). For more info, please contact: Vanthan Peoudara at 012 846 526.
COMMUNITY OUTREACH TRIP TO PHNOM PENH AND THE ECCC... and even the love of our enemies
Report By: Randle DeFalco
*** To read the report with photos, please click: http://www.dccam.org/Projects/Living_Doc/pdf/Community_Outreach_Trip_to_Phnom_Penh&the_ECCC.pdf
From February 10 to 12, 2010, the Living Documents Project of the Documentation Center of Cambodia (DC-Cam) hosted 93 visitors from the provinces of Banteay Meanchey, Svay Rieng and Kandal. The purpose of the trip was to help rural Cambodians better understand the proceedings ongoing at the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) and the history of the Democratic Kampuchea (DK) period in Cambodia.
The villagers were transported to Phnom Penh by bus and arrived Tuesday evening. The program started the following morning at the National Senate building. For DC-Cam director Youk Chhang the group from Banteay Meanchey were especially significant, as they came from Trapeang Veng village, where Youk was sent to live during the period of Democratic Kampuchea from 1975 to 1979. Trapeang Veng is a small village in Preah Net Preah commune, located in northern Cambodia and is nearly a 400 km drive from Phnom Penh. In fact, at the request of some of the villagers, Youk brought his mother, Keo Nan to the morning event, where the Trapeang Veng villagers greeted Keo Nan with great respect.
Presentations on the Proceedings of the ECCC and Tuol Sleng Prison
After the participants settled into their seats, Living Documents Project Leader Sirik Savina welcomed the group and went over the itinerary for day one, explaining that the morning session would consist of a series of presentations to help bring group up to speed regarding the proceedings of the ECCC. The first presentation of the day came from ECCC Deputy International Co-Prosecutor William Smith, who gave a talk on the challenges of prosecuting case 002 at the ECCC. The charged persons in Case 002 are, Nuon Chea, Ieng Sary, Khieu Samphan and Ieng Thirith, who are the four most senior former Khmer Rouge officials still alive. Mr. Smith opened with a short background of his professional experience, first as a police investigator in Australia and then as a lawyer at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (referred to as the ICTY). Mr. Smith then gave an overview of the challenges in creating the ECCC, including determining: where to place the Court; the ECCC’s jurisdictional scope; the degree to which international and Cambodian law and personnel would be mixed; and whether to include civil parties, a first in international criminal law.
Mr. Smith then discussed the current, day to day challenges of administering the system created. Mr. Smith mentioned the difficulties of working at a Court with three official languages (Khmer, English and French) and colleagues from various professional backgrounds. Additionally, Mr. Smith mentioned that the ECCC staff must be careful to set a good example, because of the current weakness of the Cambodian judiciary and the tenuous rule of law in Cambodia. Finally, Mr. Smith addressed two issues that are recurrent themes in debates concerning the ECCC. First, whether it is worthwhile to prosecute former senior DK leaders when they are all of advanced age and second, what the primary purposes of the Court are. Regarding the first issue, Mr. Smith noted that millions of Cambodians still suffer daily due to the crimes committed during the DK period and that the regime’s former leaders should be tried despite their age because of the severe nature of the charges they currently face. Regarding the second issue, Mr. Smith stated that there are several objectives the creators of the ECCC had in mind when forming the Court. First and foremost, the ECCC is designed to provide some measure of justice to the millions of victims that suffered and/or died during DK. Second, the Court is designed to create an accurate history of the controversial DK period. Third, the ECCC’s designers hoped to improve human rights and encourage the rule of law in Cambodia by creating a model Court as an example for the Cambodian judiciary. Finally, by addressing past atrocities, the ECCC will hopefully help contribute to reconciliation and memory in Cambodia.
Mr. Smith’s presentation was followed by a short question and answer session. The first question was “why did the United Nations give the Khmer Rouge Cambodia’s seat after 1979?” Mr. Smith responded that at the time, Cold War politics interfered with the United Nations and numerous powerful, anti-communist (and therefore anti-Vietnamese) nations supported any group that opposed Vietnamese influence in Cambodia, even the Khmer Rouge. The second question was “why was the ECCC created so late?” Mr. Smith responded that for a long time the Khmer Rouge remained a powerful military force and fought the government intermittently until the mid-1990s, making it impossible to capture former DK leaders. Furthermore, international politics prevented an agreement to create a tribunal throughout the 1980s and 1990s. However, Mr. Smith explained the theories of justice that support prosecution of serious crimes well after their commission.
The third question was “why did the Khmer Rouge kill and starve people?” Mr. Smith responded that there is no single, clear answer to this important and fundamental question, but that there are several prominent causal factors to consider. First, the Khmer Rouge leaders wanted to radically change Cambodian society in a very short period of time. Additionally, these leaders tried to apply pure Marxist theory to Cambodian society and thus, were extremely absolute and rigid with their policies. Finally, it appears that the DK government valued revolutionary objectives more than human lives, meaning that anyone who did not benefit the revolution could be killed without remorse.
The fourth question was “are there other countries that experienced such mass killings?” Mr. Smith responded that unfortunately, there are several instances of mass killings similar to those that took place during DK in Cambodia. The prime examples of such killings are the holocaust of the Jews during World War II, the crimes committed during the 1990s in the former Yugoslavia and the genocidal killings in Rwanda in 1994. Mr. Smith noted that the crimes committed during DK were amongst the worst of the 20th century, as one quarter of Cambodia’s population was killed, representing the highest percentage of any of the previous atrocities he mentioned.
The final question was from an attendee who was happy to see the ECCC created, but has been frustrated by the long delays and wanted to know when the ECCC would finish its mandate. Mr. Smith responded that he is unsure when the Court will conclude its work, but added that the ECCC staff is working hard every day to move the process along and that trials of crimes of such a massive scope necessarily take a long time. Mr. Smith then concluded by thanking the group for their attention and involving themselves in the process.
Mr. Smith was followed by DC-Cam Deputy Director Vanthan Peou Dara, who gave a presentation on Case 002 at the ECCC. Peou Dara explained that there will be four defendants in Case 002, who represent the most senior former Khmer Rouge officials still alive. He also explained the role of each of the four charged persons during DK and the crimes each of them are currently accused of, including: war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide. Before ending his presentation, Peou Dara explained the layout of the ECCC courtroom to help the visitors follow the proceedings the next day. After the presentation, one attendee asked “is it true that Ieng Sary and the other charged persons are in jail?” Peou Dara assured him that all of the charged persons are currently in pretrial detention and that they would see this when they visited the ECCC the following day.
After a short break, the group watched video footage of the Khmer Rouge Tuol Sleng prison in Phnom Penh, shot shortly after the Vietnamese entered Cambodia in January of 1979. This video was followed by a screening of “Behind the Walls of S-21,” a documentary on the history of the Tuol Sleng prison, produced by Youk Chhang. The last speaker of the morning session was Him Huy, who was a guard at Tuol Sleng during DK and was interviewed in the film. Him Huy gave a short summary of his experience of being drafted into the Khmer Rouge guerrilla army and subsequently being transferred to work at Tuol Sleng prison after refusing to join the DK navy due to his fear of water.
Him Huy said that prior to late 1976 only a few prisoners passed through Tuol Sleng, but that thereafter the secretive Angkar Padeveat (“revolutionary organization”) and comrade Duch (the head of Tuol Sleng prison and accused person in Case 001 at the ECCC) became extremely suspicious and began a series of mass arrests, quickly escalating the number of prisoners who were arrested and subsequently tortured and executed. Him Huy also stated that he lived in a state of constant fear because many Tuol Sleng workers and guards were arrested and executed, including his former commanding officer. Him Huy claimed that he only killed one prisoner, after being ordered to do so by Duch as a test of his loyalty and that he fled the Khmer Rouge in 1979 when the Vietnamese entered Phnom Penh.
When Him Huy finished his talk, an attendee asked whether Him Huy personally observed any connection between the four charged persons in Case 002 and Tuol Sleng prison and if so, how close the connection was. Him Huy stated that he never saw any of the four charged persons at the prison, because Son Sen (another former high-level Khmer Rouge official who was murdered by Pol Pot in 1997) oversaw Tuol Sleng personally on behalf of Angkar. Him Huy did add however, that a group of victims that passed through the prison were Cambodian returnees from abroad who had been lured back to Cambodia personally by Ieng Sary and then immediately arrested.
Visit to Cheung Ek Memorial and Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum
Following lunch, the group visited the Cheung Ek killing field memorial and Tuol Sleng genocide museum to see the places discussed in the morning session. The trip to Tuol Sleng was especially personal for one visitor named Sitha, who is chief of Rumduol commune, Svay Check district, Svay Rieng province. Sitha and his wife discovered a photograph of his cousin, Kim Nal, who worked for the DK ministry of information before disappearing sometime prior to 1979. Sitha asked DC-Cam staff member Men Pechet to take a photograph of him with this last known image of his cousin. Sitha is now sure that his cousin Nal was sent to Tuol Sleng because many high-ranking officials from his zone were arrested and disappeared along with their subordinates during the DK period. Men Pechet is currently searching to see if there is any additional information available regarding Sitha’s cousin Nal. After leaving Tuol Sleng, the first day ended with dinner and a trip back to the hotel for the guests to rest before visiting the ECCC the following day.
Attending ECCC Proceedings
On the second day of the trip, the visitors travelled to the ECCC to observe its proceedings. Oral arguments were scheduled for Ieng Sary’s appeal against the extension of his provisional detention order that was issued by the Co-Investigating Judges. An initial issue arose regarding the dress code at the Court. Many villagers wore t-shirts given to them by DC-Cam with the words “Breaking the Silence for Case 002” printed on them in small letters. The security personnel at the ECCC initially refused attendees wearing these t-shirts admission, stating that they were inappropriate. After speaking with DC-Cam staff members, who explained that the t-shirts were merely a gift to the villagers from DC-Cam and not meant as any form of propaganda or message in the courtroom, security officials eventually relented and allowed the attendees to enter the courtroom.
After hearing of this incident, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang contacted ECCC public affairs chief Reach Sambath and asked for clarification regarding why the t-shirts were deemed objectionable. Initially Youk received responses that were only general in nature, outlining the procedures of visiting the ECCC, but not mentioning any dress code restrictions. Only after making repeated inquiries did Youk receive a specific response. ECCC Legal Communications Officer Lars Olsen stated via email that the Internal Regulations Governing the Courtroom on Hearing Days forbid any clothing “indicating support for Case 002.” Mr. Olsen referred to paragraph two of the Internal Regulations which states:
“Participants shall wear appropriate clothing. Their clothing may not display slogans, indicate their support to a party to the proceedings, otherwise be offensive in any way.”
DC-Cam plans to provide similar t-shirts in the future that do not include any references to Case 002, but hopes the ECCC administration will be more forthcoming and clear with their specific reasoning in the future.
Once the initial attire problem was resolved the villagers entered the courtroom, eager to see the ECCC in action. The guests watched intently and were quite interested to see Ieng Sary in person after hearing so much about the secretive leadership that formed the feared Angkar during the DK period. The day ended early after Ieng Sary appeared unwell and had to take several breaks due to his advanced age and ill health. This sparked concern amongst the audience that Ieng Sary could die of natural causes before facing justice.
After visiting the ECCC for the first time, the visitors were taken back to Phnom Penh and treated to dinner and a performance by musician Kong Nai, who is renowned for his ability to play the cha pei (a traditional Cambodian instrument much like a guitar, but with only two strings) and improvise clever and meaningful lyrics.
The morning of the final day of the trip was spent at the ECCC, where the visitors watched the oral hearing regarding Khieu Samphan’s appeal against the extension his provisional detention order. While the legal arguments put forth by the parties were quite similar to those of the previous day, at the end of the hearing Khieu Samphan rose and spoke on his own behalf for several minutes. At this moment the audience perked up and paid rapt attention. Khieu Samphan claimed that everything he had done had been with the goal of helping Cambodia, that he was a nationalist first and foremost and that he had only joined the Khmer Rouge at the behest of the King Father. Furthermore, Khieu Samphan claimed that he was a figurehead only during DK, with no true power and that he did not have anyone under his command or even an office. He also claimed that the speeches he delivered during DK were actually written by others. Khieu Samphan concluded his statement by claiming that he was essentially a pawn of the DK government and is “not like the others,” presumably referencing co-charged persons Ieng Sary, Ieng Thirith and Nuon Chea.
A few attendees shared their opinion of the ECCC proceedings with DC-Cam staff members during a short break. Lach Samnang, a 64 year old farmer from Banteay Mencheay province, stated that over the two days he spent at the Court he was generally pleased with what he saw, especially because the ECCC has the power to capture former Khmer Rouge leaders. He feels that the Court is important to Cambodia in general, as well as victims and their families. Before the ECCC’s creation Samnang did not believe that any Khmer Rouge leaders would ever be held accountable and he hopes that the Court can finally uncover the truth. As for the proceedings he saw, Samnang believes that the charged persons in Case 002 should all be kept in pretrial detention because if released they may escape and also, a small number of victims might seek violent revenge against them.
Royal Palace Visit and Performance by PRUM Manh
After spending the morning at the ECCC, the villagers had lunch at a local restaurant and then were treated to a trip to the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh. For virtually all of the villagers this was their first time inside the palace and for many of them, the trip itself was their first time in Phnom Penh. The group walked quietly around the palace grounds and many granted interviews to DC-Cam staff members concerning both their personal experiences during the DK period and their views on the ECCC. Dinner and a special performance by comedian Prum Manh followed the visit to the Royal Palace. Prum Manh is famous throughout Cambodia for his comedy routines and ability to create new jokes and puns while involving the audience.
Performance of the Play “Breaking the Silence”
The final event of the trip was a performance of the play “Breaking the Silence” at the National Institute of Education. “Breaking the Silence” is a series of vignettes that depict the complex emotions that are aroused in survivors of the DK period when trying to speak about their experiences. The audience of the play also included approximately 200 university students from Phnom Penh.
After the play, two audience members provided their impressions of the performance. Hong Huy, commune chief of Preah Net Preah, opined that the play provided an accurate representation of what occurred during DK. Hong Huy also stated that it is important for the younger generation of Cambodians to learn about the DK period and for survivors to tell their stories. He believes that “Breaking the Silence” serves as a mechanism to help survivors both remember and discuss their experiences during DK.
The other audience member who commented on the play was Long Sokhni, a university student. Long Sokhni stated that he believes “Breaking the Silence” is an accurate depiction of the DK period because it is exactly the same as what he has studied concerning the period in school. He then asked about the significance of the play’s title. “Breaking the Silence” director Suon Bunrith responded that the title was chosen because the main purpose of the play is to promote the sharing of stories and experiences of DK survivors, both amongst themselves and with the younger generation. Suon Bunrith continued by stating that this process can encourage survivors to tell the truth about their experiences during DK. He noted that the secondary purpose of the play is to promote the study of the DK period in Cambodia, especially amongst the nation’s youth. Finally, Suon Bunrith said that “Breaking the Silence” is not designed ask or grant forgiveness, but merely to promote dialogue.
After the audience comments, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang closed the evening with a few personal remarks. Youk specifically addressed why he invited people from Trapeang Veng village, despite the fact that he had suffered so much there. Youk said that after the DK period, no one from Banteay Meanchey province knew what became of him. Furthermore, Youk admitted that he used to be very angry with many people from the village and hated the area because it was the site of so much sorrow for him. As time progressed however, Youk found that, just like in “Breaking the Silence,” sharing his experiences was a method of healing for him, allowing him to move on. Youk believes that the play can help to change the attitudes of victims who see it and help them find forgiveness, tolerance and reconciliation.
Over time, Youk has tried to find forgiveness within himself for those people who hurt him in the past. By trying to forgive individuals who wronged him in the past, Youk hopes to provide an example for others to follow in reconciling with one another. Additionally, as a token of both his gratefulness to those who helped him and towards forgiveness to those who mistreated him and his family during his time in Banteay Meanchey, Youk and his mother are currently funding the construction of a road in Preah Net Preah district near a local pagoda where a public execution of a couple took place during the DK period and close to where Youk was imprisoned by the Khmer Rouge at age fifteen. Youk ended the evening by reminding the students in the audience of the importance of studying the history of the DK period and preserving the memories of survivors.
When Broken Glass Floats: Personal Expressions of Remorse
The trip to Phnom Penh to learn about the Khmer Rouge and the proceedings of the ECCC aroused strong and complex emotions amongst many of the attendees, all of whom survived the DK period. This was especially true for participants from Trapeang Veng village, who lived alongside Youk Chhang during the DK period. Expressing such complex feelings of remorse is a difficult process for all human beings. Such expressions are especially difficult for Cambodians, whose culture eschews direct, public apologies and places high value on respecting hierarchical social strata. Accordingly, Cambodians do not typically discuss shameful or regrettable events openly, but express their remorse through indirect, generalized statements and assuming a humble posture and countenance.
The complexity and nuances of interpersonal communication in Cambodia was evident in the discussions between Youk and two villagers from Trapeang Veng village. One villager, named Chhoeung approached Youk during a break to discuss the actions of his son named Khai, during the DK period. Chhoeung waited for an opportunity to quietly take Youk aside, rather than discussing the matter publicly amongst the group. Chhoeung then slowly and quietly informed Youk that Khai became ill and died not long after 1979. He further mentioned that he did not feel remorse that his son had died because he is aware that Khai had committed bad acts during the Khmer Rouge time, when he had been a village security guard. Chhoeung then stated that he believes Khai died young as a result of bad karma, attributable to these bad acts.
Although this conversation was brief and general, it had much greater significance to both Chhoeung and Youk than its content would suggest to a casual observer. Both Chhoeung and Youk were aware that during DK, Khai had in fact, arrested Youk himself and beaten him severely with an ax. Although Chhoeung did not mention these specific acts, he was indirectly expressing remorse that his son had hurt and mistreated Youk.
Another participant named Hoeun who is now an achar (non-ordained Buddhist scholar) at Preah Net Preah pagoda, also approached Youk alone during an evening break. Hoeun told Youk that he remembered the Chhang family well from the DK period. Hoeun then quietly recounted an incident he remembers from that time, when fire engulfed a dry rice field during a group work trip to cut hay. Hoeun then asked about Youk’s sister and brother-in-law, expressed his hope that they are both doing well.
Again, this brief interaction was full of important subtext. During the DK period, Hoeun was the deputy village chief of Trapeang Veng and was a very absolute and harsh Khmer Rouge official. In fact, when recounting the story to Youk, both men were well aware that after the fire Hoeun had accused Youk’s sister of causing the fire because she had been the only “new person” (urban evacuee) from Phnom Penh in Hoeun's unit at the time. This caused Youk’s sister great danger and distress, as she could have easily been killed as a result of Hoeun's accusations. Additionally, fellow villager HONG Huy informed Youk that during DK, Hoeun had reported Hong Huy to Angkar (his superior by the name of Chhuong who is still alive today but he is afraid to join the visit) as an enemy of the revolution in late 1978. Fortunately Hong Huy survived because the Vietnamese entered Cambodia and ousted the Khmer Rouge in early 1979, before he could be arrested and executed.
During his brief interaction with Youk, Hoeun purposefully omitted the key elements of his narrative that made it especially relevant to Youk and his family. However, both men were well aware of this background information. By Hoeun approaching Youk in this manner and through his lowered posture and tone, the former Khmer Rouge official implicitly admitted that he had acted wrongly. This admission was a significant act for Hoeun because at the time of the fire incident he surely considered himself victimized, as Hoeun was not immune from the wrath of his superiors in the Khmer Rouge and could have been killed for allowing the fire to happen. Thus, the short narration of the story of the fire during the trip to cut hay was a mechanism for Hoeun to admit he had wronged Youk's sister and thereby try to move forward from the past.
These two, brief interactions are emblematic of the private nature of expressions of remorse in Cambodian culture. Both villagers approached Youk alone and in a private setting. Also, both villagers addressed Youk as “elder” (bong), despite being significantly older than him and assumed an inferior posture to Youk by lowering themselves, looking downward, forcing themselves to smile and speaking in a quiet, trembling voice. Chhoeung even went so far as to forbid himself from mourning the death of his son, which was obviously painful for the elderly man. Youk's relatively high social status, as director of a large organization who has travelled abroad and speaks foreign languages, also contributed to the overt displays of respect exhibited by the two men.
There is a folk saying in Cambodia that during times of strife, “squash drowns, broken glass floats” (khlok lich, ambaeng andaet). This saying connotes an unnatural and dangerous upheaval in society because usually “squash floats and glass drowns” (khlok andaet, ambaeng lich) meaning that people who are useful, like a dried squash containers used for carrying water, rise to the top of society and those who are jagged and dangerous, like shards of broken glass, are held down or sink. This metaphor has been used to describe the DK period, when dangerous people assumed power in Cambodia and everyone else sunk to the bottom, many of them drowning in the process. Through their body language and tone, both Chhoeung and Hoeun acknowledged that broken glass floated during the DK period and that Khai and Hoeun had been shards of this “floating glass” that cut many Youk and his family deeply.
The considerable amount of unspoken subtext that occurs during emotionally charged interactions between Cambodians must be considered when choosing mechanisms to facilitate dialogue amongst former perpetrators and victims of the Khmer Rouge. Members of neither of these groups are homogenous in their feelings or opinions. Furthermore, many survivors cannot be neatly categorized as belonging solely to one of the two groups, as many former perpetrators themselves suffered immense trauma during DK. What is important however, is that the fundamental humanity of all survivors, victims and perpetrators alike, be emphasized so that everyone can speak the truth freely. This can only be achieved by acknowledging and addressing the manner in which Cambodian people express the extremely powerful, yet delicate emotions associated with the DK period.
Conclusion
Overall, throughout the trip the general sentiment amongst the visitors was strongly positive. The entire group paid careful attention to the information they were given concerning the DK period and the ECCC and listened intently to the arguments put forth by all parties at the Court. Bin Ouch, a 63 year old farmer from Banteay Meanchey province, was pleased with his experience in Phnom Penh and felt that he learned a lot about the ECCC and the history of the DK period. Ouch stated that he is also pleased that DC-Cam plays an active role in providing information for Cambodians searching for family members who disappeared during DK and helping explain to them what happened. Additionally, Ouch is satisfied with the overall process at the ECCC because the judges appeared fair and impartial, although he did take issue with some of the arguments raised by defense counsel during the Khieu Samphan hearing and believes that the charged persons should all continue to be detained leading up to trial.
Mea Somaly, a 48 year old farmer from Banteay Meanchey shared similar sentiments to Bin Ouch. Somaly said that she had been very excited for the trip and had enjoyed it very much. She also feels that she learned a lot about the ECCC’s proceedings and now understands what is going on at the Court much better. Somaly is satisfied with what she learned about the ECCC and believes that the Court is worthwhile because it has the power to punish Khmer Rouge criminals.
Some attendees even made efforts to express their gratitude after returning to their home villages. Several DC-Cam staff members received telephone calls from attendees thanking them for the trip. This expression of gratitude was no small act for many of the villagers who had to seek out and pay for the use of a telephone because they are very poor and do not have their own. Hopefully, continuing outreach programs, such as DC-Cam’s Living Documents Project, will help to spread awareness and understanding of the trials at the ECCC and facilitate open dialogue and reconciliation amongst Cambodians. End.
*** To read the report with photos, please click: http://www.dccam.org/Projects/Living_Doc/pdf/Community_Outreach_Trip_to_Phnom_Penh&the_ECCC.pdf
From February 10 to 12, 2010, the Living Documents Project of the Documentation Center of Cambodia (DC-Cam) hosted 93 visitors from the provinces of Banteay Meanchey, Svay Rieng and Kandal. The purpose of the trip was to help rural Cambodians better understand the proceedings ongoing at the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) and the history of the Democratic Kampuchea (DK) period in Cambodia.
The villagers were transported to Phnom Penh by bus and arrived Tuesday evening. The program started the following morning at the National Senate building. For DC-Cam director Youk Chhang the group from Banteay Meanchey were especially significant, as they came from Trapeang Veng village, where Youk was sent to live during the period of Democratic Kampuchea from 1975 to 1979. Trapeang Veng is a small village in Preah Net Preah commune, located in northern Cambodia and is nearly a 400 km drive from Phnom Penh. In fact, at the request of some of the villagers, Youk brought his mother, Keo Nan to the morning event, where the Trapeang Veng villagers greeted Keo Nan with great respect.
Presentations on the Proceedings of the ECCC and Tuol Sleng Prison
After the participants settled into their seats, Living Documents Project Leader Sirik Savina welcomed the group and went over the itinerary for day one, explaining that the morning session would consist of a series of presentations to help bring group up to speed regarding the proceedings of the ECCC. The first presentation of the day came from ECCC Deputy International Co-Prosecutor William Smith, who gave a talk on the challenges of prosecuting case 002 at the ECCC. The charged persons in Case 002 are, Nuon Chea, Ieng Sary, Khieu Samphan and Ieng Thirith, who are the four most senior former Khmer Rouge officials still alive. Mr. Smith opened with a short background of his professional experience, first as a police investigator in Australia and then as a lawyer at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (referred to as the ICTY). Mr. Smith then gave an overview of the challenges in creating the ECCC, including determining: where to place the Court; the ECCC’s jurisdictional scope; the degree to which international and Cambodian law and personnel would be mixed; and whether to include civil parties, a first in international criminal law.
Mr. Smith then discussed the current, day to day challenges of administering the system created. Mr. Smith mentioned the difficulties of working at a Court with three official languages (Khmer, English and French) and colleagues from various professional backgrounds. Additionally, Mr. Smith mentioned that the ECCC staff must be careful to set a good example, because of the current weakness of the Cambodian judiciary and the tenuous rule of law in Cambodia. Finally, Mr. Smith addressed two issues that are recurrent themes in debates concerning the ECCC. First, whether it is worthwhile to prosecute former senior DK leaders when they are all of advanced age and second, what the primary purposes of the Court are. Regarding the first issue, Mr. Smith noted that millions of Cambodians still suffer daily due to the crimes committed during the DK period and that the regime’s former leaders should be tried despite their age because of the severe nature of the charges they currently face. Regarding the second issue, Mr. Smith stated that there are several objectives the creators of the ECCC had in mind when forming the Court. First and foremost, the ECCC is designed to provide some measure of justice to the millions of victims that suffered and/or died during DK. Second, the Court is designed to create an accurate history of the controversial DK period. Third, the ECCC’s designers hoped to improve human rights and encourage the rule of law in Cambodia by creating a model Court as an example for the Cambodian judiciary. Finally, by addressing past atrocities, the ECCC will hopefully help contribute to reconciliation and memory in Cambodia.
Mr. Smith’s presentation was followed by a short question and answer session. The first question was “why did the United Nations give the Khmer Rouge Cambodia’s seat after 1979?” Mr. Smith responded that at the time, Cold War politics interfered with the United Nations and numerous powerful, anti-communist (and therefore anti-Vietnamese) nations supported any group that opposed Vietnamese influence in Cambodia, even the Khmer Rouge. The second question was “why was the ECCC created so late?” Mr. Smith responded that for a long time the Khmer Rouge remained a powerful military force and fought the government intermittently until the mid-1990s, making it impossible to capture former DK leaders. Furthermore, international politics prevented an agreement to create a tribunal throughout the 1980s and 1990s. However, Mr. Smith explained the theories of justice that support prosecution of serious crimes well after their commission.
The third question was “why did the Khmer Rouge kill and starve people?” Mr. Smith responded that there is no single, clear answer to this important and fundamental question, but that there are several prominent causal factors to consider. First, the Khmer Rouge leaders wanted to radically change Cambodian society in a very short period of time. Additionally, these leaders tried to apply pure Marxist theory to Cambodian society and thus, were extremely absolute and rigid with their policies. Finally, it appears that the DK government valued revolutionary objectives more than human lives, meaning that anyone who did not benefit the revolution could be killed without remorse.
The fourth question was “are there other countries that experienced such mass killings?” Mr. Smith responded that unfortunately, there are several instances of mass killings similar to those that took place during DK in Cambodia. The prime examples of such killings are the holocaust of the Jews during World War II, the crimes committed during the 1990s in the former Yugoslavia and the genocidal killings in Rwanda in 1994. Mr. Smith noted that the crimes committed during DK were amongst the worst of the 20th century, as one quarter of Cambodia’s population was killed, representing the highest percentage of any of the previous atrocities he mentioned.
The final question was from an attendee who was happy to see the ECCC created, but has been frustrated by the long delays and wanted to know when the ECCC would finish its mandate. Mr. Smith responded that he is unsure when the Court will conclude its work, but added that the ECCC staff is working hard every day to move the process along and that trials of crimes of such a massive scope necessarily take a long time. Mr. Smith then concluded by thanking the group for their attention and involving themselves in the process.
Mr. Smith was followed by DC-Cam Deputy Director Vanthan Peou Dara, who gave a presentation on Case 002 at the ECCC. Peou Dara explained that there will be four defendants in Case 002, who represent the most senior former Khmer Rouge officials still alive. He also explained the role of each of the four charged persons during DK and the crimes each of them are currently accused of, including: war crimes, crimes against humanity and genocide. Before ending his presentation, Peou Dara explained the layout of the ECCC courtroom to help the visitors follow the proceedings the next day. After the presentation, one attendee asked “is it true that Ieng Sary and the other charged persons are in jail?” Peou Dara assured him that all of the charged persons are currently in pretrial detention and that they would see this when they visited the ECCC the following day.
After a short break, the group watched video footage of the Khmer Rouge Tuol Sleng prison in Phnom Penh, shot shortly after the Vietnamese entered Cambodia in January of 1979. This video was followed by a screening of “Behind the Walls of S-21,” a documentary on the history of the Tuol Sleng prison, produced by Youk Chhang. The last speaker of the morning session was Him Huy, who was a guard at Tuol Sleng during DK and was interviewed in the film. Him Huy gave a short summary of his experience of being drafted into the Khmer Rouge guerrilla army and subsequently being transferred to work at Tuol Sleng prison after refusing to join the DK navy due to his fear of water.
Him Huy said that prior to late 1976 only a few prisoners passed through Tuol Sleng, but that thereafter the secretive Angkar Padeveat (“revolutionary organization”) and comrade Duch (the head of Tuol Sleng prison and accused person in Case 001 at the ECCC) became extremely suspicious and began a series of mass arrests, quickly escalating the number of prisoners who were arrested and subsequently tortured and executed. Him Huy also stated that he lived in a state of constant fear because many Tuol Sleng workers and guards were arrested and executed, including his former commanding officer. Him Huy claimed that he only killed one prisoner, after being ordered to do so by Duch as a test of his loyalty and that he fled the Khmer Rouge in 1979 when the Vietnamese entered Phnom Penh.
When Him Huy finished his talk, an attendee asked whether Him Huy personally observed any connection between the four charged persons in Case 002 and Tuol Sleng prison and if so, how close the connection was. Him Huy stated that he never saw any of the four charged persons at the prison, because Son Sen (another former high-level Khmer Rouge official who was murdered by Pol Pot in 1997) oversaw Tuol Sleng personally on behalf of Angkar. Him Huy did add however, that a group of victims that passed through the prison were Cambodian returnees from abroad who had been lured back to Cambodia personally by Ieng Sary and then immediately arrested.
Visit to Cheung Ek Memorial and Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum
Following lunch, the group visited the Cheung Ek killing field memorial and Tuol Sleng genocide museum to see the places discussed in the morning session. The trip to Tuol Sleng was especially personal for one visitor named Sitha, who is chief of Rumduol commune, Svay Check district, Svay Rieng province. Sitha and his wife discovered a photograph of his cousin, Kim Nal, who worked for the DK ministry of information before disappearing sometime prior to 1979. Sitha asked DC-Cam staff member Men Pechet to take a photograph of him with this last known image of his cousin. Sitha is now sure that his cousin Nal was sent to Tuol Sleng because many high-ranking officials from his zone were arrested and disappeared along with their subordinates during the DK period. Men Pechet is currently searching to see if there is any additional information available regarding Sitha’s cousin Nal. After leaving Tuol Sleng, the first day ended with dinner and a trip back to the hotel for the guests to rest before visiting the ECCC the following day.
Attending ECCC Proceedings
On the second day of the trip, the visitors travelled to the ECCC to observe its proceedings. Oral arguments were scheduled for Ieng Sary’s appeal against the extension of his provisional detention order that was issued by the Co-Investigating Judges. An initial issue arose regarding the dress code at the Court. Many villagers wore t-shirts given to them by DC-Cam with the words “Breaking the Silence for Case 002” printed on them in small letters. The security personnel at the ECCC initially refused attendees wearing these t-shirts admission, stating that they were inappropriate. After speaking with DC-Cam staff members, who explained that the t-shirts were merely a gift to the villagers from DC-Cam and not meant as any form of propaganda or message in the courtroom, security officials eventually relented and allowed the attendees to enter the courtroom.
After hearing of this incident, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang contacted ECCC public affairs chief Reach Sambath and asked for clarification regarding why the t-shirts were deemed objectionable. Initially Youk received responses that were only general in nature, outlining the procedures of visiting the ECCC, but not mentioning any dress code restrictions. Only after making repeated inquiries did Youk receive a specific response. ECCC Legal Communications Officer Lars Olsen stated via email that the Internal Regulations Governing the Courtroom on Hearing Days forbid any clothing “indicating support for Case 002.” Mr. Olsen referred to paragraph two of the Internal Regulations which states:
“Participants shall wear appropriate clothing. Their clothing may not display slogans, indicate their support to a party to the proceedings, otherwise be offensive in any way.”
DC-Cam plans to provide similar t-shirts in the future that do not include any references to Case 002, but hopes the ECCC administration will be more forthcoming and clear with their specific reasoning in the future.
Once the initial attire problem was resolved the villagers entered the courtroom, eager to see the ECCC in action. The guests watched intently and were quite interested to see Ieng Sary in person after hearing so much about the secretive leadership that formed the feared Angkar during the DK period. The day ended early after Ieng Sary appeared unwell and had to take several breaks due to his advanced age and ill health. This sparked concern amongst the audience that Ieng Sary could die of natural causes before facing justice.
After visiting the ECCC for the first time, the visitors were taken back to Phnom Penh and treated to dinner and a performance by musician Kong Nai, who is renowned for his ability to play the cha pei (a traditional Cambodian instrument much like a guitar, but with only two strings) and improvise clever and meaningful lyrics.
The morning of the final day of the trip was spent at the ECCC, where the visitors watched the oral hearing regarding Khieu Samphan’s appeal against the extension his provisional detention order. While the legal arguments put forth by the parties were quite similar to those of the previous day, at the end of the hearing Khieu Samphan rose and spoke on his own behalf for several minutes. At this moment the audience perked up and paid rapt attention. Khieu Samphan claimed that everything he had done had been with the goal of helping Cambodia, that he was a nationalist first and foremost and that he had only joined the Khmer Rouge at the behest of the King Father. Furthermore, Khieu Samphan claimed that he was a figurehead only during DK, with no true power and that he did not have anyone under his command or even an office. He also claimed that the speeches he delivered during DK were actually written by others. Khieu Samphan concluded his statement by claiming that he was essentially a pawn of the DK government and is “not like the others,” presumably referencing co-charged persons Ieng Sary, Ieng Thirith and Nuon Chea.
A few attendees shared their opinion of the ECCC proceedings with DC-Cam staff members during a short break. Lach Samnang, a 64 year old farmer from Banteay Mencheay province, stated that over the two days he spent at the Court he was generally pleased with what he saw, especially because the ECCC has the power to capture former Khmer Rouge leaders. He feels that the Court is important to Cambodia in general, as well as victims and their families. Before the ECCC’s creation Samnang did not believe that any Khmer Rouge leaders would ever be held accountable and he hopes that the Court can finally uncover the truth. As for the proceedings he saw, Samnang believes that the charged persons in Case 002 should all be kept in pretrial detention because if released they may escape and also, a small number of victims might seek violent revenge against them.
Royal Palace Visit and Performance by PRUM Manh
After spending the morning at the ECCC, the villagers had lunch at a local restaurant and then were treated to a trip to the Royal Palace in Phnom Penh. For virtually all of the villagers this was their first time inside the palace and for many of them, the trip itself was their first time in Phnom Penh. The group walked quietly around the palace grounds and many granted interviews to DC-Cam staff members concerning both their personal experiences during the DK period and their views on the ECCC. Dinner and a special performance by comedian Prum Manh followed the visit to the Royal Palace. Prum Manh is famous throughout Cambodia for his comedy routines and ability to create new jokes and puns while involving the audience.
Performance of the Play “Breaking the Silence”
The final event of the trip was a performance of the play “Breaking the Silence” at the National Institute of Education. “Breaking the Silence” is a series of vignettes that depict the complex emotions that are aroused in survivors of the DK period when trying to speak about their experiences. The audience of the play also included approximately 200 university students from Phnom Penh.
After the play, two audience members provided their impressions of the performance. Hong Huy, commune chief of Preah Net Preah, opined that the play provided an accurate representation of what occurred during DK. Hong Huy also stated that it is important for the younger generation of Cambodians to learn about the DK period and for survivors to tell their stories. He believes that “Breaking the Silence” serves as a mechanism to help survivors both remember and discuss their experiences during DK.
The other audience member who commented on the play was Long Sokhni, a university student. Long Sokhni stated that he believes “Breaking the Silence” is an accurate depiction of the DK period because it is exactly the same as what he has studied concerning the period in school. He then asked about the significance of the play’s title. “Breaking the Silence” director Suon Bunrith responded that the title was chosen because the main purpose of the play is to promote the sharing of stories and experiences of DK survivors, both amongst themselves and with the younger generation. Suon Bunrith continued by stating that this process can encourage survivors to tell the truth about their experiences during DK. He noted that the secondary purpose of the play is to promote the study of the DK period in Cambodia, especially amongst the nation’s youth. Finally, Suon Bunrith said that “Breaking the Silence” is not designed ask or grant forgiveness, but merely to promote dialogue.
After the audience comments, DC-Cam Director Youk Chhang closed the evening with a few personal remarks. Youk specifically addressed why he invited people from Trapeang Veng village, despite the fact that he had suffered so much there. Youk said that after the DK period, no one from Banteay Meanchey province knew what became of him. Furthermore, Youk admitted that he used to be very angry with many people from the village and hated the area because it was the site of so much sorrow for him. As time progressed however, Youk found that, just like in “Breaking the Silence,” sharing his experiences was a method of healing for him, allowing him to move on. Youk believes that the play can help to change the attitudes of victims who see it and help them find forgiveness, tolerance and reconciliation.
Over time, Youk has tried to find forgiveness within himself for those people who hurt him in the past. By trying to forgive individuals who wronged him in the past, Youk hopes to provide an example for others to follow in reconciling with one another. Additionally, as a token of both his gratefulness to those who helped him and towards forgiveness to those who mistreated him and his family during his time in Banteay Meanchey, Youk and his mother are currently funding the construction of a road in Preah Net Preah district near a local pagoda where a public execution of a couple took place during the DK period and close to where Youk was imprisoned by the Khmer Rouge at age fifteen. Youk ended the evening by reminding the students in the audience of the importance of studying the history of the DK period and preserving the memories of survivors.
When Broken Glass Floats: Personal Expressions of Remorse
The trip to Phnom Penh to learn about the Khmer Rouge and the proceedings of the ECCC aroused strong and complex emotions amongst many of the attendees, all of whom survived the DK period. This was especially true for participants from Trapeang Veng village, who lived alongside Youk Chhang during the DK period. Expressing such complex feelings of remorse is a difficult process for all human beings. Such expressions are especially difficult for Cambodians, whose culture eschews direct, public apologies and places high value on respecting hierarchical social strata. Accordingly, Cambodians do not typically discuss shameful or regrettable events openly, but express their remorse through indirect, generalized statements and assuming a humble posture and countenance.
The complexity and nuances of interpersonal communication in Cambodia was evident in the discussions between Youk and two villagers from Trapeang Veng village. One villager, named Chhoeung approached Youk during a break to discuss the actions of his son named Khai, during the DK period. Chhoeung waited for an opportunity to quietly take Youk aside, rather than discussing the matter publicly amongst the group. Chhoeung then slowly and quietly informed Youk that Khai became ill and died not long after 1979. He further mentioned that he did not feel remorse that his son had died because he is aware that Khai had committed bad acts during the Khmer Rouge time, when he had been a village security guard. Chhoeung then stated that he believes Khai died young as a result of bad karma, attributable to these bad acts.
Although this conversation was brief and general, it had much greater significance to both Chhoeung and Youk than its content would suggest to a casual observer. Both Chhoeung and Youk were aware that during DK, Khai had in fact, arrested Youk himself and beaten him severely with an ax. Although Chhoeung did not mention these specific acts, he was indirectly expressing remorse that his son had hurt and mistreated Youk.
Another participant named Hoeun who is now an achar (non-ordained Buddhist scholar) at Preah Net Preah pagoda, also approached Youk alone during an evening break. Hoeun told Youk that he remembered the Chhang family well from the DK period. Hoeun then quietly recounted an incident he remembers from that time, when fire engulfed a dry rice field during a group work trip to cut hay. Hoeun then asked about Youk’s sister and brother-in-law, expressed his hope that they are both doing well.
Again, this brief interaction was full of important subtext. During the DK period, Hoeun was the deputy village chief of Trapeang Veng and was a very absolute and harsh Khmer Rouge official. In fact, when recounting the story to Youk, both men were well aware that after the fire Hoeun had accused Youk’s sister of causing the fire because she had been the only “new person” (urban evacuee) from Phnom Penh in Hoeun's unit at the time. This caused Youk’s sister great danger and distress, as she could have easily been killed as a result of Hoeun's accusations. Additionally, fellow villager HONG Huy informed Youk that during DK, Hoeun had reported Hong Huy to Angkar (his superior by the name of Chhuong who is still alive today but he is afraid to join the visit) as an enemy of the revolution in late 1978. Fortunately Hong Huy survived because the Vietnamese entered Cambodia and ousted the Khmer Rouge in early 1979, before he could be arrested and executed.
During his brief interaction with Youk, Hoeun purposefully omitted the key elements of his narrative that made it especially relevant to Youk and his family. However, both men were well aware of this background information. By Hoeun approaching Youk in this manner and through his lowered posture and tone, the former Khmer Rouge official implicitly admitted that he had acted wrongly. This admission was a significant act for Hoeun because at the time of the fire incident he surely considered himself victimized, as Hoeun was not immune from the wrath of his superiors in the Khmer Rouge and could have been killed for allowing the fire to happen. Thus, the short narration of the story of the fire during the trip to cut hay was a mechanism for Hoeun to admit he had wronged Youk's sister and thereby try to move forward from the past.
These two, brief interactions are emblematic of the private nature of expressions of remorse in Cambodian culture. Both villagers approached Youk alone and in a private setting. Also, both villagers addressed Youk as “elder” (bong), despite being significantly older than him and assumed an inferior posture to Youk by lowering themselves, looking downward, forcing themselves to smile and speaking in a quiet, trembling voice. Chhoeung even went so far as to forbid himself from mourning the death of his son, which was obviously painful for the elderly man. Youk's relatively high social status, as director of a large organization who has travelled abroad and speaks foreign languages, also contributed to the overt displays of respect exhibited by the two men.
There is a folk saying in Cambodia that during times of strife, “squash drowns, broken glass floats” (khlok lich, ambaeng andaet). This saying connotes an unnatural and dangerous upheaval in society because usually “squash floats and glass drowns” (khlok andaet, ambaeng lich) meaning that people who are useful, like a dried squash containers used for carrying water, rise to the top of society and those who are jagged and dangerous, like shards of broken glass, are held down or sink. This metaphor has been used to describe the DK period, when dangerous people assumed power in Cambodia and everyone else sunk to the bottom, many of them drowning in the process. Through their body language and tone, both Chhoeung and Hoeun acknowledged that broken glass floated during the DK period and that Khai and Hoeun had been shards of this “floating glass” that cut many Youk and his family deeply.
The considerable amount of unspoken subtext that occurs during emotionally charged interactions between Cambodians must be considered when choosing mechanisms to facilitate dialogue amongst former perpetrators and victims of the Khmer Rouge. Members of neither of these groups are homogenous in their feelings or opinions. Furthermore, many survivors cannot be neatly categorized as belonging solely to one of the two groups, as many former perpetrators themselves suffered immense trauma during DK. What is important however, is that the fundamental humanity of all survivors, victims and perpetrators alike, be emphasized so that everyone can speak the truth freely. This can only be achieved by acknowledging and addressing the manner in which Cambodian people express the extremely powerful, yet delicate emotions associated with the DK period.
Conclusion
Overall, throughout the trip the general sentiment amongst the visitors was strongly positive. The entire group paid careful attention to the information they were given concerning the DK period and the ECCC and listened intently to the arguments put forth by all parties at the Court. Bin Ouch, a 63 year old farmer from Banteay Meanchey province, was pleased with his experience in Phnom Penh and felt that he learned a lot about the ECCC and the history of the DK period. Ouch stated that he is also pleased that DC-Cam plays an active role in providing information for Cambodians searching for family members who disappeared during DK and helping explain to them what happened. Additionally, Ouch is satisfied with the overall process at the ECCC because the judges appeared fair and impartial, although he did take issue with some of the arguments raised by defense counsel during the Khieu Samphan hearing and believes that the charged persons should all continue to be detained leading up to trial.
Mea Somaly, a 48 year old farmer from Banteay Meanchey shared similar sentiments to Bin Ouch. Somaly said that she had been very excited for the trip and had enjoyed it very much. She also feels that she learned a lot about the ECCC’s proceedings and now understands what is going on at the Court much better. Somaly is satisfied with what she learned about the ECCC and believes that the Court is worthwhile because it has the power to punish Khmer Rouge criminals.
Some attendees even made efforts to express their gratitude after returning to their home villages. Several DC-Cam staff members received telephone calls from attendees thanking them for the trip. This expression of gratitude was no small act for many of the villagers who had to seek out and pay for the use of a telephone because they are very poor and do not have their own. Hopefully, continuing outreach programs, such as DC-Cam’s Living Documents Project, will help to spread awareness and understanding of the trials at the ECCC and facilitate open dialogue and reconciliation amongst Cambodians. End.
Blurring Transitional Justice in Orania and Pailin
Kyle Delbyck
*names of interviewees have been changed
“The past is not dead. In fact, it’s not even the past.” William Faulkner’s words hold resonance in post-conflict societies throughout the world. With “drawing a line under the past” no longer considered a feasible solution, countries recovering from political violence must decide what route to take in confronting legacies of repression and bloodshed.[1]All too frequently, post-conflict discourse assumes a mutually exclusive framework, the new regime faced with the choice to pursue either justice or reconciliation. The ensuing debate over remedial mechanisms oftentimes results in the construction of two supposedly discrete categories: war crimes tribunal and truth commission, the first associated primarily with justice, the latter primarily with reconciliation. In response, many have disputed the validity of the dichotomous approach, arguing that justice and reconciliation blur together during the rebuilding period. From this perspective, the relationship between transitional mechanisms and the recovery process does not operate on a linear trajectory. Post-conflict reconstruction is instead rife with deviations, potholes, and blind-spots, a hazy web of overlap and crisscross that renders any universalist interpretation futile. “Blurring Transitional Justice in Orania and Pailin” takes a stand in this ideological tug of war through case studies of Orania, South Africa, and Pailin, Cambodia. Interviews with local residents shed light on the failures of rigid paradigms, instead lending credence to theories that embrace the “blurring” of it all.
Orania, a small town in the Karoo, was founded in the early 1990s, in the midst of South Africa’s democratic transition. Established by conservative Afrikaners dissatisfied with the new, post-apartheid South Africa, the settlement has attracted both individuals affiliated with the former National Party government and proponents of a separatist Afrikaner homeland. The province of Pailin, meanwhile, previously a prosperous mining area, served as a Khmer Rouge stronghold during the reign of Democratic Kampuchea. In the aftermath of the Vietnamese occupation of Cambodia, many Khmer Rouge soldiers fled to the province, taking advantage of Pailin’s border location to launch a guerilla civil war. One of the last areas integrated into the new government, Pailin spent several decades under Khmer Rouge control and, like Orania, is home to a number of former regime members.
The two regions are unique and, as such, admittedly constitute a particular window into post-conflict issues. Given their histories, however, the experiences of Orania and Pailin provide valuable insights into how justice and reconciliation manifest themselves during the transitional period. South Africa and Cambodia have taken vastly different paths in their respective quests to deal with the past. The post-apartheid African National Congress government implemented the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a public mechanism that addressed crimes committed between 1960 and 1994, the heart of the apartheid era. In the pursuit of historical “truth,” the commission offered perpetrators amnesty in exchange for full disclosure of their actions. Cambodia, on the other hand, recently established the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia, a war crimes tribunal in the process of prosecuting several high-ranking Khmer Rouge leaders. While the ECCC has limited its scope to senior officials, proponents conceive of the court as a means of challenging impunity and establishing accountability for Democratic Kampuchea crimes.[2] Positioned at the crux of controversial attempts at transitional justice, residents within Pailin and Orania had much to say about the success of reconstruction efforts and the extent to which their respective countries have achieved the goals of justice and reconciliation. What can locals tell us about the use of dichotomous models? Do their views legitimize a universalist understanding of transitional mechanisms? Or do their perceptions of post-conflict recovery call for more fluid modes of analysis?
The experiences of Orania and Pailin tend to undermine the traditional alignment of commission with reconciliation and tribunal with justice. As referenced above, war crimes trials are often perceived as threats to processes of reconciliation. Political leaders and scholars alike have repeatedly stated that retributive punishment exacerbates tensions and, in the worst-case scenarios, incites further violence. In Cambodia, ECCC advocates encountered significant resistance from those who claimed that a far-reaching penal mechanism would destabilize the country. Reflecting on the tribunal’s impact thus far, however, Pailin residents consistently expressed the opinion that Cambodia has attained reconciliation. Some interviewees even cited the tribunal as a significant catalyst in peace-building efforts. Former Khmer Rouge cadre Dara, for example, noted of the ECCC, “ by prosecuting these people, we as Cambodians can help national reconciliation and move forward and develop the country.” While this positive conception of the tribunal depends on its narrow punitive scope, the ECCC itself did not appear to generate the widespread hostility predicted by prevailing transitional justice theories.
Such theories often depict post-conflict nations as societies forced into an unenviable dilemma, a “cruel short-term tradeoff between reconciliation and justice.” In terms of tribunals, this “tradeoff” manifests itself in the swap of appeasement for the prize of accountability.[3] Truth commissions, on the other hand, supposedly submit to the opposite exchange, forfeiting justice for the sake of peace-building. In response, Pailin residents contested the terms of this bartering process. Like Dara. Laska, a Khmer Rouge medic, regards the tribunal as a vehicle to “make sure people live peacefully together”: his statement resists the “either/or” framework. Correspondingly, Sovannah, a high-ranking former soldier, remarked, “the tribunal will help people talk to each other and be able to forgive and forget.” Though numerous interviewees expressed fears that the ECCC will eventually turn its sights on lower level cadres, they did not criticize the tribunal for increasing communal friction or hindering reconciliation efforts.
Comments like Sovannah’s are even more striking when compared with the tone of Orania residents’ reactions to the TRC. As noted previously, truth commissions are by and large considered a far more effective peace-building mechanism than the punitive hand of tribunals. While it is widely acknowledged that disputes over historical “truth” possess the potential to divide a populace, commission-like mechanisms tend to be associated with the goals of forgiveness, pacification, cathartic healing, and understanding. South Africa went so far as to christen its transitional endeavor by placing truth and reconciliation in conjunction, an appellative alliance that has permanently shaped societal notions of the purpose of such mechanisms. In contrast, no war crimes tribunal has thus far included “reconciliation” in its official title. Taking into account the sentiments voiced in Pailin and Orania, however, one would think the opposite was true. Without fail, Orania interviewees blamed the commission for alienating South Africa’s Afrikaner population. Despite the commission’s stated goals of compassion and acceptance, Orania official Johan’s description of the process as a “witch hunt on one side” reflects the bitterness that pervaded all references to the TRC. Several locals labeled the hearings a tool to “other” Afrikaners, forcing the entire community to take responsibility for apartheid crimes.
Even the commission’s amnesty provisions did not mollify Orania locals. Instead, in the eyes of interviewees, the immunity compromise was inconsequential, engulfed by the commission’s overarching message of antagonism: the insinuation that “Afrikaners are a people who need to make room for other people.” As such, former soldier Henrik conceives of the Afrikaner population as “flattened by the accusations,” isolated within the new South Africa and far removed from any form of meaningful reconciliation. The contrast between this alleged “flattening” and the optimism expressed by Pailin residents raises several questions. Why, in these two cases, were normative alignments turned on their heads? What contributing factors have shaped locals’ ideas about justice and reconciliation? In what ways do the experiences of those who call Pailin and Orania home expose the limitations of dichotomous paradigms?
Time and again, interviewees pointed to the societal standing of former regime members as playing a large role in the reconciliation process, disrupting the “traditional” functions of tribunal and commission. Khmer Rouge soldiers like Dara and Laska, for example, seemingly satisfied with Cambodia’s post-conflict transition, linked the success of peace-building efforts to the integration of Khmer Rouge leaders into the new government. Citing the prominent position of numerous such cadres in both the Pailin municipality and national administration, Bunthan, a high ranking chief under Democratic Kampuchea, remarked, “with Khmer Rouge cadres here in government, we are now all together and want to live in peace, helping to better the future of the country.” Fellow soldier Terit likewise noted, “ I feel like a part of society since integration, because I see people like myself in leadership-the Khmer Rouge are now united with the government and we can work as one.” From the perspective of interviewees, the power held by the Men Sam Ans and Chea Sims of Cambodia has facilitated reconciliation and diminished societal tensions. Furthermore, several Pailin residents identified their own government careers after integration as an important factor in preventing the marginalization experienced by Orania locals. Terit, for example, had a difficult time even understanding why he might feel excluded from post-Khmer Rouge Cambodia, commenting, “ I served as a government soldier, received salary from the government, so of course am a part of society.” Therefore, in evaluating the impact of the ECCC, the significance of the integration process should not be underestimated. In Pailin at least, the absorption of Democratic Kampuchea officials into the state apparatus has detracted from the “justice over reconciliation” sacrifice, curbing the brunt of potential hostility toward the tribunal.
Conversely, in Orania, the political concessions correlated with the TRC have rendered the supposed “reconciliation over justice” exchange moot. Residents frequently drew a connection between their frustration with the commission and the lack of Afrikaner representation in the new ANC government. Johan, for example, stated, “it is difficult to get things close to your heart on the agenda, being a minority...” Others attributed their sense of alienation to the shock of transitioning from an Afrikaner-run National Party government to an ANC regime devoid of Afrikaner influence. The disorientation produced by this shift permeated the interviews, with volkstaat pioneer Hans observing, “this had been a confused experience for Afrikaners, who do not know what their future is, or what to expect, or where they are going.” Orania’s prevailing climate of “confusion” and isolation stands in stark contrast to the atmosphere in Pailin, where residents consistently expressed confidence in both their own positions and Cambodia’s future as a nation.
For South Africans like Hans, lacking Pailin locals’ sense of security, the repositioning of state power structures vastly overshadowed the TRC’s attempts at reconciliation. Furthermore, in light of transformed political dynamics, the commission’s role in exposing the crimes of National Party members assumed heightened significance, perceived as just another step in the “psychological oppression” of Afrikaners. Conservative political leader Wilhelm’s quote says it all: “we saw SABC evening after evening with ANC people testifying, women crying, getting emotional, and they would blame us all as these bad whites.” Wilhelm does not draw attention to the amnesty process or Desmond Tutu’s message of forgiveness. Instead, the alienation engendered by the terms of the peace settlement leads to words of resentment and division, the type of statement one might expect in the context of a tribunal.
Similar to the influence of such political compromises, the history behind the two countries’ respective conflicts has also molded local impressions of transitional mechanisms. While this may appear an obvious point, it is habitually ignored in favor of the temptations of clarity, the allure of drawing lines between commission and tribunal, reconciliation and justice. Comments made by interviewees expose such lines as vulnerable in the face of historical forces. Former Khmer Rouge soldiers, for example, consistently brought up national traditions of harmony and cultural homogeny, lamenting the shame of any conflict “between Khmer and Khmer.” As Terit stated, “there is no use for Khmer people to fight Khmer people, only we suffer. I am not upset with either side, the government or Pol Pot, I am just happy to see the war end.” Pailin residents accordingly appeared receptive to the idea of reconciliation, confident in the healing powers of common ancestry and repulsed by the prospect of another civil war. Citing historical precedent, Bunthan pointed to the Khmer people’s combined power in challenging French colonialism, deeming the independence movement an example of the country’s ability to “come together as one.”
Others referenced Cambodia’s history of uniting behind strong leaders. Sidestepping the issue that Democratic Kampuchea exemplifies this type of cohesion, locals expressed certainty that the populace will put old grudges aside and join forces to support Hun Sen’s administration and the ECCC. Such assertions stem from a past in which grassroots opposition to repressive governments has been sparse: democratic resistance has not featured heavily in Cambodia’s political development. As former Khmer Rouge bureaucrat Rakana stated, “whatever governmental policy is, I will follow it. I abided by the rules of the old regime and I will do the same with the rules of the Hun Sen regime. As the government has endorsed the tribunal, it is not my position to criticize it. Instead, all Khmer people will go along with it.” Laska likewise remarked, “ it is the government’s choice to create the tribunal, I do not know about politics, I will respect their decision, like everyone else.” As evidenced by the above comments, interviewees conceive of their positions in the current administration as a direct continuation of their positions in Democratic Kampuchea: citizens obligated to comply with the course of action prescribed by ruling authorities. Consequently, in light of this legacy of authoritarian governance, Hun Sen’s sponsorship of the ECCC has significantly reduced the risk of widespread unrest or opposition. Instead, cadres such as Sovannah proclaimed a desire to move forward en masse under the government’s directive, fulfilling their historical roles with “no separation between different groups of Khmer people, victims and perpetrators.”
In contrast, Orania residents repeatedly pointed to South Africa’s history of racial division in their critiques of the TRC, labeling preceding centuries of ethnic strife a major impediment to the country’s transformation into a so-called rainbow nation. Without Cambodia’s “common ancestry” to rely upon, interviewees asserted that different groups within South Africa do not possess a shared national experience or sense of cohesive identity. Several mentioned the first Boer settlements, the subsequent British concentration camps, and the segregating nature of the industrial revolution in their attempts to explain continuing hostilities. Others cited past Afrikaner efforts to create separate homelands, or volkstaats, stating that the issue of societal discord stretches far beyond the relatively recent actions of the apartheid government. As such, lacking evidence of the country’s potential to unite, interviewees were much less trusting in the remedial powers of the TRC. While Pailin resident Dara commented of former Khmer Rouge members, “we are not alone,” seclusion and marginalization are defining elements of the Afrikaner mindset, the psychological consequence of complex historical dynamics. As illustrated by the telling disparity between Dara’s proclamation and Oranian conceptions of reconciliation, the unique trajectory of every society’s political evolution shapes local views on post-conflict reconstruction. It is accordingly impossible to create universal guidelines as to how nations will react to transitional mechanisms. The contradictory experiences of Orania and Pailin prove this point, thus problematizing normative understandings of justice and reconciliation.
Part Two
The flaws in intellectually rigid interpretations of transitional justice are further revealed by interviewees’ commentary on the respective “stories” promoted by the ECCC and TRC. Their conflicting interpretations of historical narrative reflect the problems inherent in limiting notions of justice to retribution. In recent years, post-conflict scholars have developed a model of accountability that extends beyond traditional justice paradigms. Restorative justice, as this model has been labeled, is a term that “encompasses a growing social movement to institutionalize peaceful approaches to harm, problem-solving and violations of legal and human rights.”[4] Such “peaceful approaches” place emphasis on rebuilding broken communities and relationships, engaging both victims and perpetrators in processes that benefit society as a whole. Truth commissions, reparations payments, enhanced social services, school renovations, perpetrator apologies, and the like all fall under the purview of the restorative method. In response to this practice, some scholars have argued that restorative remedies represent a less meaningful form of justice, a poor substitute for retributive penalties.
Conversations with Orania and Pailin residents, however, expose justice to be a more complex, capricious creature. Challenging narrow ideological frameworks, locals in the two regions serve as evidence of the many different ways in which accountability can manifest itself. As noted above, the primary objective of war crimes tribunals is the effective prosecution of conflict “perpetrators” and the consequent establishment of legal precedent. From a long-term perspective, accountability mechanisms, the ECCC included, hope to challenge the impunity of previous eras and, through retributive punishment, achieve justice for conflict victims. Tribunals accordingly focus on the specific cases that come before the court, leaving the creation of a broader historical narrative to other sectors of society. In contrast, truth commissions often set their foremost goal as the construction of a definitive historical account: allocating responsibility for bloodshed, debunking any remaining myths, explaining underlying causes of conflict, setting the record straight about controversial incidents, and so on. Interviewees’ remarks shed light on the important role this narrative plays in holding perpetrators responsible for their actions. While the restorative justice model includes truth recovery under its comprehensive umbrella, the experiences of Pailin and Orania locals suggest that historical narrative should occupy a leading position in societal conceptions of accountability.
Turning first to Cambodia, Pailin residents spoke of the ECCC in an untroubled manner, seemingly impervious to the ongoing proceedings. Time and again, former Khmer Rouge soldiers failed to correlate the tribunal with any substantive verdict on the actions of the DK regime. Instead, interviewees described the process in narrow terms, concentrating on the court’s prosecution of five senior leaders. Dara, for example, remarked, “a country has to have a court in order to practice the law, with the courts and with this tribunal, they find out whether people are guilty or innocent, then find out who made mistakes and did bad things.” In this quote, Dara depicts the tribunal as a mechanism concerned solely with the legal system; unrelated to the formation of historical narrative. Sovannah likewise noted, “I don’t think the trial is saying whether I am a good or bad person, the government never said anything like that or considered our group a bad group.” Taking such comments into account, interviewees do not believe the tribunal has passed moral judgment on their individual roles under the Democratic Kampuchea government.
The TRC’s mission, on the other hand, centered on the “investigation and establishment of as complete a picture as possible of the nature, causes and extent of gross violations of human rights,” exploring who was responsible for the apartheid system and whence unequal political structures originated.[5] Fully aware of the scope of the commission’s aspirations, Orania residents interpreted the hearings as a broader societal condemnation of the Afrikaner community. Along this line, Wilhelm stated that the TRC’s account of events severely damaged Afrikaner morale. In his eyes, the commission was “used as an instrument to depict some as good guys and others as bad guys and to add credibility to that.” Others labeled the process a “big theater” and a “one sided opening of a can of worms.” As illustrated by the resentment evident in the aforementioned remarks, disagreements over historical narrative can throw a wrench into the traditional grouping of commission with reconciliation and justice with tribunal. In certain cases, a former regime member may find it more painful to witness the government he served being publicly condemned than to see a fellow soldier face jail time: the officially sanctioned destruction or, at the very least, critique of one’s deep-seated ideology is potentially devastating, striking at the heart of personal identity.
Analyzing the effects of this type of ideological scrutiny, post-conflict expert Michael Ignatieff theorizes that, while commissions rarely produce the whole truth, they are valuable in that they “narrow the range of permissible lies.”[6] The TRC, its flaws notwithstanding, was able to establish certain indisputable truths, opening the country’s eyes to the horrors of apartheid.[7] Though certain parts of South African history remain points of fierce contention, the commission created the public consensus that apartheid was an unjust and shameful system. As such, Orania interviewees, loath to unequivocally denounce the regime, nonetheless acknowledged the “indisputable truths” generated by the commission’s historical narrative. Wilhelm, for example, admitted that the TRC resulted in “baseline facts,” whilst Hans deemed evidence of apartheid’s brutality “undeniable.” All thus conceded that the position of blacks under the National Party government was indefensible, “a real nightmare.” Bearing such observations in mind, it becomes evident that Orania residents have mulled over the moral implications of the regime, confronted with facts and stories antithetical to their convictions.
Furthermore, throughout the course of the interviews, each person inevitably cited a moment in history when he or she felt the apartheid system veered off its ethical tracks: during the “integration of black labor” into cities, amidst the deterioration of the security situation in the townships, and so on. Though some took care to also highlight positive aspects of National Party doctrine, the thoughtfulness of their responses and the numerous references to historical turning points support the conclusion that interviewees have spent time contemplating the apartheid legacy. Henrik, for instance, unable to ignore the sins of the past, noted, “these things are difficult to explain today.” Why the recurrent attempts to “explain” and analyze apartheid brutality? Most interviewees invoked the TRC’s account of apartheid as the catalyst for their reflections on the National Party system, bemoaning the impossibility of escaping the din generated by the commission’s historical narrative. Consequently, the popular perception that South African whites got off scot free, rewarded by the TRC’s amnesty stipulations, is valid only if one focuses exclusively on tangible penalties. Disregarding the significance of ideological and psychological ramifications is a mistake. As Afrikaner scholar Lize Van Roebbreck puts it, the commission made it impossible for “whites in South Africa to remain blind to the immorality of apartheid” and thereby impossible for those implicated in the system to emerge from the period with fully clear consciences. Is this purging of “blindness” not some form of justice or, at the very least, punishment?
On the other hand, interviewees in Pailin appeared content to remain in the dark, unruffled by the specter of the past and unscathed by the scrutiny of historical narrative. Without fail, former cadres admitted that they had not devoted much energy to pondering Democratic Kampuchea, instead rarely affording their actions a second thought. Terit, for example, stated, “I never look back and do not think about it. Everything keeps moving forward and there is no need to look back.” Laska similarly remarked, “I don’t think about it, I am a good citizen.” Unlike the TRC hearings, the ECCC process thus far does not seem to have either upset interviewees or roused them to evaluate the ethos of the Khmer Rouge system. Furthermore, several former soldiers went so far as to deny that the regime had committed any serious crimes. In this vein, Bunthan commented, “ life during Democratic Kampuchea, it was not wrong, it was autonomous. I did not see the loss of life…” Conceding that there were issues with living standards and freedom of movement, Bunthan nevertheless believes that “people loved the regime because it was so pure, there was no corruption, and people lived equally.” The representation of the Khmer Rouge as a benevolent force formed a common refrain throughout the interviews. Like Bunthan, Rakana argued that claims of suffering under Democratic Kampuchea were exaggerated, as she herself “did not witness any killing” and considers Khieu Samphan, Ieng Sary, and their brethren “good and simple people.” When questioned as to how she behaves when interacting with victims, Rakana noted, “I feel normal, because I don’t believe anything actually happened.” Employing the same line of reasoning, a number of other former cadres asserted that neither they themselves nor Khmer Rouge leaders had anything to apologize for.
Before commencing upon further analysis of the interviews, it would be irresponsible to ignore the fact that Orania interviewees are positioned in an educational culture that places more emphasis on the apartheid regime than its Cambodian counterpart does on the Khmer Rouge era. The contrast between statements like Rakana’s and Orania locals’ sophisticated conceptions of apartheid reflect the fact that Cambodians and Afrikaners have undergone vastly different systems of schooling, a disparity that has contributed to their perspectives on historical narrative. However, this recognition of the potent effects of education does not detract from the similarly potent effects of transitional justice mechanisms, the subject that this article has set as its focus. The two instead merge, along with the host of factors discussed above, to produce the political and social climate within which former Khmer Rouge members developed the lack of remorse palpable throughout their remarks. Accordingly, Pailin interviewees’ ability to deflect the burden of inward reflection, a burden that has etched its mark on the shoulders of Orania residents, partially stems from the absence of a process comparable to the TRC: a public mechanism (whether in the form of a commission, a comprehensive history education curriculum, or an informal initiative) that has made it its mission to produce a widely accepted historical narrative and “narrow the range of permissible lies.” The ECCC has certainly set admirable goals for itself, such as the reduction of impunity, the inclusion of victims’ voices, the establishment of legal precedent, the prosecution of senior Khmer Rouge officials, and so on. This article does not seek to undermine the tribunal’s achievements or claim that the intangible holds greater importance than the tangible. Nonetheless, its triumphs notwithstanding, the ECCC has not provided for a definitive verdict on the regime as a whole, thereby allowing Pailin interviewees the wiggle room to continue living their lives in the “blindness” denied to Orania residents: an undeserved freedom comparable to more commonly recognized modes of impunity. Comments made by former Khmer Rouge members, like those of Orania locals, thus demand that post-conflict discourse recognize historical narrative as a powerful and effective medium of accountability. Moreover, as with the problems inherent in creating an automatic alliance between truth commission and reconciliation, the experiences of interviewees illustrate the issues in restricting justice to the domain of a tribunal. In both cases, the groupings prove themselves to be invalid.
In light of the failings of “unblurred” paradigms, interviews in Orania and Pailin suggest that post-conflict societies should pursue a multi-faceted approach towards transitional justice, utilizing a variety of formal and informal mechanisms. In employing processes that complement each other, countries in the midst of difficult transitions will ensure that they address the challenges of rebuilding from a sufficient number of angles. If Cambodia had chosen to solely implement a tribunal, for example, the country would have disregarded the impact of historical narrative. Instead, with the introduction of genocide education textbooks and the possibility of future grassroots truth-telling mechanisms, the post-Khmer Rouge populace has taken crucial steps towards recovery. This symbiotic union of different methodologies acknowledges the need to broaden societal notions of justice and reconciliation, anticipating the whole range of potential outcomes and thereby guaranteeing that glaring issues are not overlooked.
As far as these “outcomes” go, within the framework of normative discourse, Orania and Pailin simply do not make sense. If one adheres to universalist paradigms, it is surprising that the TRC has generated such hostility amongst Afrikaners: surprising that, while the commission achieved some justice by means of historical truth-telling, it did not facilitate a greater level of reconciliation in Orania. Moreover, though it was initially assumed that a tribunal would divide South Africa and derail the peace-building process, in retrospect, it is possible that an ECCC- style mechanism would have resulted in less mistrust and hostility. In terms of Cambodia, again utilizing normative criteria, it is similarly surprising that the tribunal has not inspired a large amount of bitterness in Pailin. Soldiers’ comments instead indicate that a comprehensive truth recovery mechanism, despite its lack of retributive penalties, might have inflicted a more meaningful form of punishment on former cadres. In the context of post-conflict transitions, the list of so-called “unforeseen” results goes on and on, by no means limited to the small regions of Orania and Pailin.
Why these seemingly erratic results? Why do case studies of Orania and Pailin defy standard models of the rebuilding process? In conclusion, the answer lies in the recognition that justice and reconciliation simply cannot be placed in finite categories. Each contains elements of the other, and, over the course of reconstruction efforts, the two blur, oftentimes almost indistinguishable. Accordingly, in evaluating justice and reconciliation and their relationships to various transitional justice mechanisms, the creation of dichotomous classifications is an untenable juxtaposition; any such universalist framework belies the complexities of the post-conflict experience. To sum up, allow me to turn to a hypothetical example of the “blurring” process. Speculating as to the possible effects of “A History of Democratic Kampuchea,” the new Cambodian history textbook, it is likely that improvements in genocide education will bring about justice through the aforementioned “narrowing of the range of permissible lies,” which could subsequently lead to resentment amongst former Khmer Rouge cadres. Following the chain of potential consequences even further, however, initial tensions could eventually ricochet back towards reconciliation, the dissemination of the “lessons of history” laying the seeds for national peace. In turn, the lessons themselves can alternately be conceived of as a form of justice for victims, an attempt to ensure that the past does not repeat itself and that no more Cambodians fall prey to intra-Khmer violence. Puzzling through this hazy mess of ideas is certainly a formidable undertaking. However, if post-conflict societies hope to ever move on from their turbulent pasts, it is essential that they deny themselves the safe haven of easy answers. The stories of locals in Orania and Pailin chip away at any such refuge of simplicity, challenging us all to delve beyond our core assumptions and explore murkier waters, the undercurrents of a world in which the past is not the past and things are not always as they seem.
[1] Lundy, Patricia, and Mark McGovern. "Attitudes towards a Truth Commission for Northern Ireland in Relation to Party Political Affiliation." Journal of Irish Political Studies. 22. (2007)
[2] Scheffer, David. "Why the Cambodia Tribunal Matters to the International Community." Cambodia Tribunal Monitor..
[3] Lerche III, Charles O. "Truth Commissions and National Reconciliation: Some Reflections on Theory and Practice." Network of Peace and Conflict Studies, George Mason University..
[4] "What is Restorative Justice?." Suffolk University, Center for Restorative Justice..
[5] Promotion of National Unity and Reconciliation Act. No. 34. (1995)
[6] Ignatieff, Michael. The Warrior's Honor: Ethnic War and the Modern Conscience. Chatto and Windus, 1998. 174.
[7] Fullard, Madeline, and Nicky Rousseau. "An Imperfect Past: The Truth and Reconciliation Commission in Transition." Human Sciences Research Council. (2004).
*names of interviewees have been changed
“The past is not dead. In fact, it’s not even the past.” William Faulkner’s words hold resonance in post-conflict societies throughout the world. With “drawing a line under the past” no longer considered a feasible solution, countries recovering from political violence must decide what route to take in confronting legacies of repression and bloodshed.[1]All too frequently, post-conflict discourse assumes a mutually exclusive framework, the new regime faced with the choice to pursue either justice or reconciliation. The ensuing debate over remedial mechanisms oftentimes results in the construction of two supposedly discrete categories: war crimes tribunal and truth commission, the first associated primarily with justice, the latter primarily with reconciliation. In response, many have disputed the validity of the dichotomous approach, arguing that justice and reconciliation blur together during the rebuilding period. From this perspective, the relationship between transitional mechanisms and the recovery process does not operate on a linear trajectory. Post-conflict reconstruction is instead rife with deviations, potholes, and blind-spots, a hazy web of overlap and crisscross that renders any universalist interpretation futile. “Blurring Transitional Justice in Orania and Pailin” takes a stand in this ideological tug of war through case studies of Orania, South Africa, and Pailin, Cambodia. Interviews with local residents shed light on the failures of rigid paradigms, instead lending credence to theories that embrace the “blurring” of it all.
Orania, a small town in the Karoo, was founded in the early 1990s, in the midst of South Africa’s democratic transition. Established by conservative Afrikaners dissatisfied with the new, post-apartheid South Africa, the settlement has attracted both individuals affiliated with the former National Party government and proponents of a separatist Afrikaner homeland. The province of Pailin, meanwhile, previously a prosperous mining area, served as a Khmer Rouge stronghold during the reign of Democratic Kampuchea. In the aftermath of the Vietnamese occupation of Cambodia, many Khmer Rouge soldiers fled to the province, taking advantage of Pailin’s border location to launch a guerilla civil war. One of the last areas integrated into the new government, Pailin spent several decades under Khmer Rouge control and, like Orania, is home to a number of former regime members.
The two regions are unique and, as such, admittedly constitute a particular window into post-conflict issues. Given their histories, however, the experiences of Orania and Pailin provide valuable insights into how justice and reconciliation manifest themselves during the transitional period. South Africa and Cambodia have taken vastly different paths in their respective quests to deal with the past. The post-apartheid African National Congress government implemented the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a public mechanism that addressed crimes committed between 1960 and 1994, the heart of the apartheid era. In the pursuit of historical “truth,” the commission offered perpetrators amnesty in exchange for full disclosure of their actions. Cambodia, on the other hand, recently established the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia, a war crimes tribunal in the process of prosecuting several high-ranking Khmer Rouge leaders. While the ECCC has limited its scope to senior officials, proponents conceive of the court as a means of challenging impunity and establishing accountability for Democratic Kampuchea crimes.[2] Positioned at the crux of controversial attempts at transitional justice, residents within Pailin and Orania had much to say about the success of reconstruction efforts and the extent to which their respective countries have achieved the goals of justice and reconciliation. What can locals tell us about the use of dichotomous models? Do their views legitimize a universalist understanding of transitional mechanisms? Or do their perceptions of post-conflict recovery call for more fluid modes of analysis?
The experiences of Orania and Pailin tend to undermine the traditional alignment of commission with reconciliation and tribunal with justice. As referenced above, war crimes trials are often perceived as threats to processes of reconciliation. Political leaders and scholars alike have repeatedly stated that retributive punishment exacerbates tensions and, in the worst-case scenarios, incites further violence. In Cambodia, ECCC advocates encountered significant resistance from those who claimed that a far-reaching penal mechanism would destabilize the country. Reflecting on the tribunal’s impact thus far, however, Pailin residents consistently expressed the opinion that Cambodia has attained reconciliation. Some interviewees even cited the tribunal as a significant catalyst in peace-building efforts. Former Khmer Rouge cadre Dara, for example, noted of the ECCC, “ by prosecuting these people, we as Cambodians can help national reconciliation and move forward and develop the country.” While this positive conception of the tribunal depends on its narrow punitive scope, the ECCC itself did not appear to generate the widespread hostility predicted by prevailing transitional justice theories.
Such theories often depict post-conflict nations as societies forced into an unenviable dilemma, a “cruel short-term tradeoff between reconciliation and justice.” In terms of tribunals, this “tradeoff” manifests itself in the swap of appeasement for the prize of accountability.[3] Truth commissions, on the other hand, supposedly submit to the opposite exchange, forfeiting justice for the sake of peace-building. In response, Pailin residents contested the terms of this bartering process. Like Dara. Laska, a Khmer Rouge medic, regards the tribunal as a vehicle to “make sure people live peacefully together”: his statement resists the “either/or” framework. Correspondingly, Sovannah, a high-ranking former soldier, remarked, “the tribunal will help people talk to each other and be able to forgive and forget.” Though numerous interviewees expressed fears that the ECCC will eventually turn its sights on lower level cadres, they did not criticize the tribunal for increasing communal friction or hindering reconciliation efforts.
Comments like Sovannah’s are even more striking when compared with the tone of Orania residents’ reactions to the TRC. As noted previously, truth commissions are by and large considered a far more effective peace-building mechanism than the punitive hand of tribunals. While it is widely acknowledged that disputes over historical “truth” possess the potential to divide a populace, commission-like mechanisms tend to be associated with the goals of forgiveness, pacification, cathartic healing, and understanding. South Africa went so far as to christen its transitional endeavor by placing truth and reconciliation in conjunction, an appellative alliance that has permanently shaped societal notions of the purpose of such mechanisms. In contrast, no war crimes tribunal has thus far included “reconciliation” in its official title. Taking into account the sentiments voiced in Pailin and Orania, however, one would think the opposite was true. Without fail, Orania interviewees blamed the commission for alienating South Africa’s Afrikaner population. Despite the commission’s stated goals of compassion and acceptance, Orania official Johan’s description of the process as a “witch hunt on one side” reflects the bitterness that pervaded all references to the TRC. Several locals labeled the hearings a tool to “other” Afrikaners, forcing the entire community to take responsibility for apartheid crimes.
Even the commission’s amnesty provisions did not mollify Orania locals. Instead, in the eyes of interviewees, the immunity compromise was inconsequential, engulfed by the commission’s overarching message of antagonism: the insinuation that “Afrikaners are a people who need to make room for other people.” As such, former soldier Henrik conceives of the Afrikaner population as “flattened by the accusations,” isolated within the new South Africa and far removed from any form of meaningful reconciliation. The contrast between this alleged “flattening” and the optimism expressed by Pailin residents raises several questions. Why, in these two cases, were normative alignments turned on their heads? What contributing factors have shaped locals’ ideas about justice and reconciliation? In what ways do the experiences of those who call Pailin and Orania home expose the limitations of dichotomous paradigms?
Time and again, interviewees pointed to the societal standing of former regime members as playing a large role in the reconciliation process, disrupting the “traditional” functions of tribunal and commission. Khmer Rouge soldiers like Dara and Laska, for example, seemingly satisfied with Cambodia’s post-conflict transition, linked the success of peace-building efforts to the integration of Khmer Rouge leaders into the new government. Citing the prominent position of numerous such cadres in both the Pailin municipality and national administration, Bunthan, a high ranking chief under Democratic Kampuchea, remarked, “with Khmer Rouge cadres here in government, we are now all together and want to live in peace, helping to better the future of the country.” Fellow soldier Terit likewise noted, “ I feel like a part of society since integration, because I see people like myself in leadership-the Khmer Rouge are now united with the government and we can work as one.” From the perspective of interviewees, the power held by the Men Sam Ans and Chea Sims of Cambodia has facilitated reconciliation and diminished societal tensions. Furthermore, several Pailin residents identified their own government careers after integration as an important factor in preventing the marginalization experienced by Orania locals. Terit, for example, had a difficult time even understanding why he might feel excluded from post-Khmer Rouge Cambodia, commenting, “ I served as a government soldier, received salary from the government, so of course am a part of society.” Therefore, in evaluating the impact of the ECCC, the significance of the integration process should not be underestimated. In Pailin at least, the absorption of Democratic Kampuchea officials into the state apparatus has detracted from the “justice over reconciliation” sacrifice, curbing the brunt of potential hostility toward the tribunal.
Conversely, in Orania, the political concessions correlated with the TRC have rendered the supposed “reconciliation over justice” exchange moot. Residents frequently drew a connection between their frustration with the commission and the lack of Afrikaner representation in the new ANC government. Johan, for example, stated, “it is difficult to get things close to your heart on the agenda, being a minority...” Others attributed their sense of alienation to the shock of transitioning from an Afrikaner-run National Party government to an ANC regime devoid of Afrikaner influence. The disorientation produced by this shift permeated the interviews, with volkstaat pioneer Hans observing, “this had been a confused experience for Afrikaners, who do not know what their future is, or what to expect, or where they are going.” Orania’s prevailing climate of “confusion” and isolation stands in stark contrast to the atmosphere in Pailin, where residents consistently expressed confidence in both their own positions and Cambodia’s future as a nation.
For South Africans like Hans, lacking Pailin locals’ sense of security, the repositioning of state power structures vastly overshadowed the TRC’s attempts at reconciliation. Furthermore, in light of transformed political dynamics, the commission’s role in exposing the crimes of National Party members assumed heightened significance, perceived as just another step in the “psychological oppression” of Afrikaners. Conservative political leader Wilhelm’s quote says it all: “we saw SABC evening after evening with ANC people testifying, women crying, getting emotional, and they would blame us all as these bad whites.” Wilhelm does not draw attention to the amnesty process or Desmond Tutu’s message of forgiveness. Instead, the alienation engendered by the terms of the peace settlement leads to words of resentment and division, the type of statement one might expect in the context of a tribunal.
Similar to the influence of such political compromises, the history behind the two countries’ respective conflicts has also molded local impressions of transitional mechanisms. While this may appear an obvious point, it is habitually ignored in favor of the temptations of clarity, the allure of drawing lines between commission and tribunal, reconciliation and justice. Comments made by interviewees expose such lines as vulnerable in the face of historical forces. Former Khmer Rouge soldiers, for example, consistently brought up national traditions of harmony and cultural homogeny, lamenting the shame of any conflict “between Khmer and Khmer.” As Terit stated, “there is no use for Khmer people to fight Khmer people, only we suffer. I am not upset with either side, the government or Pol Pot, I am just happy to see the war end.” Pailin residents accordingly appeared receptive to the idea of reconciliation, confident in the healing powers of common ancestry and repulsed by the prospect of another civil war. Citing historical precedent, Bunthan pointed to the Khmer people’s combined power in challenging French colonialism, deeming the independence movement an example of the country’s ability to “come together as one.”
Others referenced Cambodia’s history of uniting behind strong leaders. Sidestepping the issue that Democratic Kampuchea exemplifies this type of cohesion, locals expressed certainty that the populace will put old grudges aside and join forces to support Hun Sen’s administration and the ECCC. Such assertions stem from a past in which grassroots opposition to repressive governments has been sparse: democratic resistance has not featured heavily in Cambodia’s political development. As former Khmer Rouge bureaucrat Rakana stated, “whatever governmental policy is, I will follow it. I abided by the rules of the old regime and I will do the same with the rules of the Hun Sen regime. As the government has endorsed the tribunal, it is not my position to criticize it. Instead, all Khmer people will go along with it.” Laska likewise remarked, “ it is the government’s choice to create the tribunal, I do not know about politics, I will respect their decision, like everyone else.” As evidenced by the above comments, interviewees conceive of their positions in the current administration as a direct continuation of their positions in Democratic Kampuchea: citizens obligated to comply with the course of action prescribed by ruling authorities. Consequently, in light of this legacy of authoritarian governance, Hun Sen’s sponsorship of the ECCC has significantly reduced the risk of widespread unrest or opposition. Instead, cadres such as Sovannah proclaimed a desire to move forward en masse under the government’s directive, fulfilling their historical roles with “no separation between different groups of Khmer people, victims and perpetrators.”
In contrast, Orania residents repeatedly pointed to South Africa’s history of racial division in their critiques of the TRC, labeling preceding centuries of ethnic strife a major impediment to the country’s transformation into a so-called rainbow nation. Without Cambodia’s “common ancestry” to rely upon, interviewees asserted that different groups within South Africa do not possess a shared national experience or sense of cohesive identity. Several mentioned the first Boer settlements, the subsequent British concentration camps, and the segregating nature of the industrial revolution in their attempts to explain continuing hostilities. Others cited past Afrikaner efforts to create separate homelands, or volkstaats, stating that the issue of societal discord stretches far beyond the relatively recent actions of the apartheid government. As such, lacking evidence of the country’s potential to unite, interviewees were much less trusting in the remedial powers of the TRC. While Pailin resident Dara commented of former Khmer Rouge members, “we are not alone,” seclusion and marginalization are defining elements of the Afrikaner mindset, the psychological consequence of complex historical dynamics. As illustrated by the telling disparity between Dara’s proclamation and Oranian conceptions of reconciliation, the unique trajectory of every society’s political evolution shapes local views on post-conflict reconstruction. It is accordingly impossible to create universal guidelines as to how nations will react to transitional mechanisms. The contradictory experiences of Orania and Pailin prove this point, thus problematizing normative understandings of justice and reconciliation.
Part Two
The flaws in intellectually rigid interpretations of transitional justice are further revealed by interviewees’ commentary on the respective “stories” promoted by the ECCC and TRC. Their conflicting interpretations of historical narrative reflect the problems inherent in limiting notions of justice to retribution. In recent years, post-conflict scholars have developed a model of accountability that extends beyond traditional justice paradigms. Restorative justice, as this model has been labeled, is a term that “encompasses a growing social movement to institutionalize peaceful approaches to harm, problem-solving and violations of legal and human rights.”[4] Such “peaceful approaches” place emphasis on rebuilding broken communities and relationships, engaging both victims and perpetrators in processes that benefit society as a whole. Truth commissions, reparations payments, enhanced social services, school renovations, perpetrator apologies, and the like all fall under the purview of the restorative method. In response to this practice, some scholars have argued that restorative remedies represent a less meaningful form of justice, a poor substitute for retributive penalties.
Conversations with Orania and Pailin residents, however, expose justice to be a more complex, capricious creature. Challenging narrow ideological frameworks, locals in the two regions serve as evidence of the many different ways in which accountability can manifest itself. As noted above, the primary objective of war crimes tribunals is the effective prosecution of conflict “perpetrators” and the consequent establishment of legal precedent. From a long-term perspective, accountability mechanisms, the ECCC included, hope to challenge the impunity of previous eras and, through retributive punishment, achieve justice for conflict victims. Tribunals accordingly focus on the specific cases that come before the court, leaving the creation of a broader historical narrative to other sectors of society. In contrast, truth commissions often set their foremost goal as the construction of a definitive historical account: allocating responsibility for bloodshed, debunking any remaining myths, explaining underlying causes of conflict, setting the record straight about controversial incidents, and so on. Interviewees’ remarks shed light on the important role this narrative plays in holding perpetrators responsible for their actions. While the restorative justice model includes truth recovery under its comprehensive umbrella, the experiences of Pailin and Orania locals suggest that historical narrative should occupy a leading position in societal conceptions of accountability.
Turning first to Cambodia, Pailin residents spoke of the ECCC in an untroubled manner, seemingly impervious to the ongoing proceedings. Time and again, former Khmer Rouge soldiers failed to correlate the tribunal with any substantive verdict on the actions of the DK regime. Instead, interviewees described the process in narrow terms, concentrating on the court’s prosecution of five senior leaders. Dara, for example, remarked, “a country has to have a court in order to practice the law, with the courts and with this tribunal, they find out whether people are guilty or innocent, then find out who made mistakes and did bad things.” In this quote, Dara depicts the tribunal as a mechanism concerned solely with the legal system; unrelated to the formation of historical narrative. Sovannah likewise noted, “I don’t think the trial is saying whether I am a good or bad person, the government never said anything like that or considered our group a bad group.” Taking such comments into account, interviewees do not believe the tribunal has passed moral judgment on their individual roles under the Democratic Kampuchea government.
The TRC’s mission, on the other hand, centered on the “investigation and establishment of as complete a picture as possible of the nature, causes and extent of gross violations of human rights,” exploring who was responsible for the apartheid system and whence unequal political structures originated.[5] Fully aware of the scope of the commission’s aspirations, Orania residents interpreted the hearings as a broader societal condemnation of the Afrikaner community. Along this line, Wilhelm stated that the TRC’s account of events severely damaged Afrikaner morale. In his eyes, the commission was “used as an instrument to depict some as good guys and others as bad guys and to add credibility to that.” Others labeled the process a “big theater” and a “one sided opening of a can of worms.” As illustrated by the resentment evident in the aforementioned remarks, disagreements over historical narrative can throw a wrench into the traditional grouping of commission with reconciliation and justice with tribunal. In certain cases, a former regime member may find it more painful to witness the government he served being publicly condemned than to see a fellow soldier face jail time: the officially sanctioned destruction or, at the very least, critique of one’s deep-seated ideology is potentially devastating, striking at the heart of personal identity.
Analyzing the effects of this type of ideological scrutiny, post-conflict expert Michael Ignatieff theorizes that, while commissions rarely produce the whole truth, they are valuable in that they “narrow the range of permissible lies.”[6] The TRC, its flaws notwithstanding, was able to establish certain indisputable truths, opening the country’s eyes to the horrors of apartheid.[7] Though certain parts of South African history remain points of fierce contention, the commission created the public consensus that apartheid was an unjust and shameful system. As such, Orania interviewees, loath to unequivocally denounce the regime, nonetheless acknowledged the “indisputable truths” generated by the commission’s historical narrative. Wilhelm, for example, admitted that the TRC resulted in “baseline facts,” whilst Hans deemed evidence of apartheid’s brutality “undeniable.” All thus conceded that the position of blacks under the National Party government was indefensible, “a real nightmare.” Bearing such observations in mind, it becomes evident that Orania residents have mulled over the moral implications of the regime, confronted with facts and stories antithetical to their convictions.
Furthermore, throughout the course of the interviews, each person inevitably cited a moment in history when he or she felt the apartheid system veered off its ethical tracks: during the “integration of black labor” into cities, amidst the deterioration of the security situation in the townships, and so on. Though some took care to also highlight positive aspects of National Party doctrine, the thoughtfulness of their responses and the numerous references to historical turning points support the conclusion that interviewees have spent time contemplating the apartheid legacy. Henrik, for instance, unable to ignore the sins of the past, noted, “these things are difficult to explain today.” Why the recurrent attempts to “explain” and analyze apartheid brutality? Most interviewees invoked the TRC’s account of apartheid as the catalyst for their reflections on the National Party system, bemoaning the impossibility of escaping the din generated by the commission’s historical narrative. Consequently, the popular perception that South African whites got off scot free, rewarded by the TRC’s amnesty stipulations, is valid only if one focuses exclusively on tangible penalties. Disregarding the significance of ideological and psychological ramifications is a mistake. As Afrikaner scholar Lize Van Roebbreck puts it, the commission made it impossible for “whites in South Africa to remain blind to the immorality of apartheid” and thereby impossible for those implicated in the system to emerge from the period with fully clear consciences. Is this purging of “blindness” not some form of justice or, at the very least, punishment?
On the other hand, interviewees in Pailin appeared content to remain in the dark, unruffled by the specter of the past and unscathed by the scrutiny of historical narrative. Without fail, former cadres admitted that they had not devoted much energy to pondering Democratic Kampuchea, instead rarely affording their actions a second thought. Terit, for example, stated, “I never look back and do not think about it. Everything keeps moving forward and there is no need to look back.” Laska similarly remarked, “I don’t think about it, I am a good citizen.” Unlike the TRC hearings, the ECCC process thus far does not seem to have either upset interviewees or roused them to evaluate the ethos of the Khmer Rouge system. Furthermore, several former soldiers went so far as to deny that the regime had committed any serious crimes. In this vein, Bunthan commented, “ life during Democratic Kampuchea, it was not wrong, it was autonomous. I did not see the loss of life…” Conceding that there were issues with living standards and freedom of movement, Bunthan nevertheless believes that “people loved the regime because it was so pure, there was no corruption, and people lived equally.” The representation of the Khmer Rouge as a benevolent force formed a common refrain throughout the interviews. Like Bunthan, Rakana argued that claims of suffering under Democratic Kampuchea were exaggerated, as she herself “did not witness any killing” and considers Khieu Samphan, Ieng Sary, and their brethren “good and simple people.” When questioned as to how she behaves when interacting with victims, Rakana noted, “I feel normal, because I don’t believe anything actually happened.” Employing the same line of reasoning, a number of other former cadres asserted that neither they themselves nor Khmer Rouge leaders had anything to apologize for.
Before commencing upon further analysis of the interviews, it would be irresponsible to ignore the fact that Orania interviewees are positioned in an educational culture that places more emphasis on the apartheid regime than its Cambodian counterpart does on the Khmer Rouge era. The contrast between statements like Rakana’s and Orania locals’ sophisticated conceptions of apartheid reflect the fact that Cambodians and Afrikaners have undergone vastly different systems of schooling, a disparity that has contributed to their perspectives on historical narrative. However, this recognition of the potent effects of education does not detract from the similarly potent effects of transitional justice mechanisms, the subject that this article has set as its focus. The two instead merge, along with the host of factors discussed above, to produce the political and social climate within which former Khmer Rouge members developed the lack of remorse palpable throughout their remarks. Accordingly, Pailin interviewees’ ability to deflect the burden of inward reflection, a burden that has etched its mark on the shoulders of Orania residents, partially stems from the absence of a process comparable to the TRC: a public mechanism (whether in the form of a commission, a comprehensive history education curriculum, or an informal initiative) that has made it its mission to produce a widely accepted historical narrative and “narrow the range of permissible lies.” The ECCC has certainly set admirable goals for itself, such as the reduction of impunity, the inclusion of victims’ voices, the establishment of legal precedent, the prosecution of senior Khmer Rouge officials, and so on. This article does not seek to undermine the tribunal’s achievements or claim that the intangible holds greater importance than the tangible. Nonetheless, its triumphs notwithstanding, the ECCC has not provided for a definitive verdict on the regime as a whole, thereby allowing Pailin interviewees the wiggle room to continue living their lives in the “blindness” denied to Orania residents: an undeserved freedom comparable to more commonly recognized modes of impunity. Comments made by former Khmer Rouge members, like those of Orania locals, thus demand that post-conflict discourse recognize historical narrative as a powerful and effective medium of accountability. Moreover, as with the problems inherent in creating an automatic alliance between truth commission and reconciliation, the experiences of interviewees illustrate the issues in restricting justice to the domain of a tribunal. In both cases, the groupings prove themselves to be invalid.
In light of the failings of “unblurred” paradigms, interviews in Orania and Pailin suggest that post-conflict societies should pursue a multi-faceted approach towards transitional justice, utilizing a variety of formal and informal mechanisms. In employing processes that complement each other, countries in the midst of difficult transitions will ensure that they address the challenges of rebuilding from a sufficient number of angles. If Cambodia had chosen to solely implement a tribunal, for example, the country would have disregarded the impact of historical narrative. Instead, with the introduction of genocide education textbooks and the possibility of future grassroots truth-telling mechanisms, the post-Khmer Rouge populace has taken crucial steps towards recovery. This symbiotic union of different methodologies acknowledges the need to broaden societal notions of justice and reconciliation, anticipating the whole range of potential outcomes and thereby guaranteeing that glaring issues are not overlooked.
As far as these “outcomes” go, within the framework of normative discourse, Orania and Pailin simply do not make sense. If one adheres to universalist paradigms, it is surprising that the TRC has generated such hostility amongst Afrikaners: surprising that, while the commission achieved some justice by means of historical truth-telling, it did not facilitate a greater level of reconciliation in Orania. Moreover, though it was initially assumed that a tribunal would divide South Africa and derail the peace-building process, in retrospect, it is possible that an ECCC- style mechanism would have resulted in less mistrust and hostility. In terms of Cambodia, again utilizing normative criteria, it is similarly surprising that the tribunal has not inspired a large amount of bitterness in Pailin. Soldiers’ comments instead indicate that a comprehensive truth recovery mechanism, despite its lack of retributive penalties, might have inflicted a more meaningful form of punishment on former cadres. In the context of post-conflict transitions, the list of so-called “unforeseen” results goes on and on, by no means limited to the small regions of Orania and Pailin.
Why these seemingly erratic results? Why do case studies of Orania and Pailin defy standard models of the rebuilding process? In conclusion, the answer lies in the recognition that justice and reconciliation simply cannot be placed in finite categories. Each contains elements of the other, and, over the course of reconstruction efforts, the two blur, oftentimes almost indistinguishable. Accordingly, in evaluating justice and reconciliation and their relationships to various transitional justice mechanisms, the creation of dichotomous classifications is an untenable juxtaposition; any such universalist framework belies the complexities of the post-conflict experience. To sum up, allow me to turn to a hypothetical example of the “blurring” process. Speculating as to the possible effects of “A History of Democratic Kampuchea,” the new Cambodian history textbook, it is likely that improvements in genocide education will bring about justice through the aforementioned “narrowing of the range of permissible lies,” which could subsequently lead to resentment amongst former Khmer Rouge cadres. Following the chain of potential consequences even further, however, initial tensions could eventually ricochet back towards reconciliation, the dissemination of the “lessons of history” laying the seeds for national peace. In turn, the lessons themselves can alternately be conceived of as a form of justice for victims, an attempt to ensure that the past does not repeat itself and that no more Cambodians fall prey to intra-Khmer violence. Puzzling through this hazy mess of ideas is certainly a formidable undertaking. However, if post-conflict societies hope to ever move on from their turbulent pasts, it is essential that they deny themselves the safe haven of easy answers. The stories of locals in Orania and Pailin chip away at any such refuge of simplicity, challenging us all to delve beyond our core assumptions and explore murkier waters, the undercurrents of a world in which the past is not the past and things are not always as they seem.
[1] Lundy, Patricia, and Mark McGovern. "Attitudes towards a Truth Commission for Northern Ireland in Relation to Party Political Affiliation." Journal of Irish Political Studies. 22. (2007)
[2] Scheffer, David. "Why the Cambodia Tribunal Matters to the International Community." Cambodia Tribunal Monitor.
[3] Lerche III, Charles O. "Truth Commissions and National Reconciliation: Some Reflections on Theory and Practice." Network of Peace and Conflict Studies, George Mason University.
[4] "What is Restorative Justice?." Suffolk University, Center for Restorative Justice.
[5] Promotion of National Unity and Reconciliation Act. No. 34. (1995)
[6] Ignatieff, Michael. The Warrior's Honor: Ethnic War and the Modern Conscience. Chatto and Windus, 1998. 174.
[7] Fullard, Madeline, and Nicky Rousseau. "An Imperfect Past: The Truth and Reconciliation Commission in Transition." Human Sciences Research Council. (2004).
The Book of Memory of Those Who Died under the Khmer Rouge
Kok-Thay Eng
A Story of a Phnom Penh’s Elite Family under the Khmer Rouge
Sisamuth Eng Sunnari was the oldest daughter of a large family of eight children. When the Khmer Rouge took Phnom Penh she was about 15 years old. She remembers the day of the evacuation vividly. Her family lived in a villa near Pasteur street in Phnom Penh. On the day the Khmer Rouge came to Phnom Penh, like other families, Sunnari’s family was busy gathering and counting members to make sure everybody was onboard for the hasty trip to the countryside. After loading belongings onto a wagon, her father Sisamuth Chan Sari, wrote a note and stuck it on the front gate of their villa. Sunnari remembers her asking her father the purpose of the letter. He said the letter was for an old friend named Khieu Samphan to read when would arrive in Phnom Penh. It said in Sunnari’s words: “Brother, if you saw this letter, please help us. We have left to our hometown in Kartie.” Sunnari did not know who Khieu Samphan was. So she asked her father about the person. Her father told her that Khieu Samphan used to stay in her grandfather’s house when Khieu Samphan was a young student, coming to the city to study. Now Sunnari’s father expected Khieu Samphan to return some favor to the family. Sunnari’s family never met and never heard about Khieu Samphan for a long time since the war began.
The family was evacuated to Khsach Andet commune, Chhlong district, Kratie province. They were put in a Cham village. By this time the Khmer Rouge had intended to mix Cham and Khmer families together in an attempt to mix cultures and diffuse ethnical religions. Sometimes they dispersed the Chams from their traditional villages to other parts of the country. In November 1975 the Khmer Rouge had already planned to relocate more than 150,000 Chams from Eastern zone after a rebellion by the same people against the Khmer Rouge earlier in the year. In a cold, winter night in the early 1976, Sunnari’s father (Sisamuth Chan Sari) was taken away by the Khmer Rouge. He was loaded onto a boat along with many other people. Sunnari never saw her father since then. In around May 1978, two years after the devastating disappearance of her father, Sunnari’s mother (Tep Kim Seng) and her seven younger siblings were taken away by the Khmer Rouge. Sunnari was not at the scene when it happened. She was sent to the border and was later sheltered from the Khmer Rouge by a Cham family. Sunnari was told that many black trucks came to the village and took many people away along with her family.
Sunnari’s mother Tep Kim Seng was the second wife of her father Sisamuth Chan Sari who had married a French wife and had eight children with her. Today members of his first wife are living in France. Chan Sari was a staff member of the Commisier Central. He later became an employee of the Cambodian Red Cross. His father named Sam Sisamuth was a former mayor of Phnom Penh city. Sunnari’s experience was a story of an upper class Phnom Penh family which was devastated by the Khmer Rouge. Today she lives in Kampong Thom province. As she reveals the plight of her family, for the first time in a formal way to DC-Cam, she cried and she wanted to send her words to Khieu Samphan. How could he be so ungrateful toward the people who had sheltered and cared for him?
Surviving relative: Sisamuth Eng Sunnari, Age: 50, Address: Kampong Thom province.
Relatives Died Under the Khmer Rouge:
Sisamuth Chan Sari (a.k.a Chhaom)
-Sex: Male
-Age: Born in the year of the tiger
-Died: Early 1976, at age 50
-Relation with survivor: Father
-Story: Left Phnom Penh on April 17, 1975 and headed for birthplace in Kratie along with family, but was settled in Prek Tahub village, Ksach Andet commune, Chhlong district, Kratie province. He was taken by the Khmer Rouge at 12 pm at night and then loaded onto a boat with many other peoples, according to Sisamuth Eng Sunnari.
Tep Kim Seng (a.k.a Eng)
-Sex: Female
-Age: Born in the year of the dragon
-Died: In May 1978, at age 35
-Relation with survivor: Mother
-Story: In May 1978, many trucks came to the village and loaded people away, along with seven siblings of Sisamuth Chan Sari. They include:
Sisamuth Eng Sunnarong (called Pach), female, year of tiger
Sisamuth Chandarit (called Bros), male, year of rabbit
Sisamuth Chansori (called Srei), female, year of dragon
Sisamuth Chanyurann, male, year of snake
Sisamuth Chansomaly, female, year of horse
Sisamuth Keomony, female, year of goat
Sisamuth Kati, female, year of monkey
Letter from Thai Sokhom
May name is Thai Sokhom, daughter of Thai Cho (dead) and Khut Hakk, 76. I reside in Snar Py Muk village, Prek Khporp sub-district, Ek Phnom Phnom district, (former Sangke district), Battambang province. I would like to search for a person by the name of Thai Han (now 50), who left the Faculty of Law while he was taking a preparatory course for the official entry exam. He stayed in the care of his cousin Chum Chuop and her husband Ven Von, a worker at the Seng Thai Textile Factory, Kilometer 6, Phnom Penh. Around April 17, 1975 I heard that Thai Han visited [our] homestead by bicycle, driving across Kampong Thom province. When he reached Kampong Kdei district, Siem Reap, information about him stopped. Therefore I would call for your return because our mother is getting older, while waiting for you all the time. I would also like to appeal to the general public that if Thai Han is found, I can be reached at House No.135, Group 9, Sna Mukpy village, Ek Phnom district, Battambang province.
Letter from Ly La
My father’s name was Korn Ty Chheang, but in Pol Pot time he changed it to Lim Chor to avoid detection. However, they still found him in 1977. My father was born in Takeo in 1929 and joined the French Colonial Army around 1948. He was stationed in Thmar Pech, Kampong Cham province until the French left and Cambodia gained independence. He was later transferred to Kampong Speu and then to Phnom Penh after the coup in 1970. He was a major in the Artillery Division.
After Pol Pot entered Phnom Penh, we went to his hometown in Takeo province, and later were put on the train to Sisophon. My family was “distributed” to Bos-sbov village in Phnom Srok district in late 1975. There, my father still went by the name of Lim Chor, hoping that no one knew his background. But unfortunately, there were people from his home town who knew him and were sent to the same village with us. To gain favor from the village leadership, they reported my father’s army background to the district security chief. However, with luck and hard work, my father managed to hang on until March or April of 1977. One night around 10:00, according to my mother, the group leader came to the hut and called him see the village chief for a meeting. My mother knew right away that this must be the end, but dared not to ask or do anything. My sisters and I were in the fields at that time. My father never returned. Thereafter, we were warned to shut up and forced to take double workloads every day.
A few weeks later, I was told that my father was seen in Phnom Srok, the district capital, which is about 5 km from Bos-Sbov. But back then, there were all kinds of rumors and it was hard to verify because, as you know, you could only whisper to close friends.
I know that there is almost no chance that my father is still alive, but I just want to get a sense of closure on this ordeal. Moreover, after reading Issue 9 of your magazine (September 2000) on Mass Graves in Banteay Meanchey, I hope that there may be some documents or witnesses that can shed some light on what happened to my father, especially Mr. Chhum Ruom, a deputy district governor and former prisoner in Phnom Srok, who was interviewed by your magazine. Maybe he can help if we can contact him.
Letter of Gratitude for Identification of a Father
My name is Khun Kol Phievatei, and I reside in Svay Rieng Province. I would like to express my gratitude to Mr. Youk Chhang, director of the Documentation Center of Cambodia’s Searching for the truth, and his colleagues for finding my father’s identification. He was captured and killed by Angkar at Tuol Sleng Prison (S-21).
With this thanks, I would also like to make another request: In the next volume of your magazine, please publish my father’s picture and the confession he recorded at S-21 so that I can see his face and read the dreadful words. I strongly hope that you will fulfill my request as well as those of Cambodian citizens who wish to learn the truth. I wish you and your subordinates happiness and safety.
The Book of Memory of Those Who Died under the Khmer Rouge
The Documentation Center of Cambodia is writing and compiling a book of records of names of those who died under the Khmer Rouge regime from 1975 to 1979 and those who disappeared during the period, who are still not known by their relatives. It also includes a section for family tracing purposes. DC-Cam already has in its database up to a million names of those who may have died under the Khmer Rouge.
This book of memory and records also lists names of prisoners found at S-21 and 200 other security centers under the Khmer Rouge regime. Under the Khmer Rouge regime nearly two million people died of four main causes: execution by the Khmer Rouge, starvation, forced labors and malnutrition. The four causes are interconnected. People were executed in the villages, in the rice fields, in a nearby forest or simply around the compound of a security center. Some died along the border in the war between Cambodia and Vietnam. The other causes of death include that of starvation, forced labors and malnutrition. Although the Khmer Rouge put virtually all ordinary people to work in the fields to grow food or do field-supporting activities, they were given little food to eat in return. As a result starvation was a major cause of death under the Khmer Rouge. Many of these people were forced to work long hours, up to 12 or 14 hours a day, without rest seven days a week. With very little food and virtually no modern medical care, many people died as a result.
There are many ways in which people were separated from their families. The civil war between 1970 and 1975 effectively divided Cambodia between the “liberated area” controlled by the Khmer Rouge and areas controlled by the Khmer Republic led by General Lon Nol. Families and relatives were often separated. In some instances, brothers fought on either side of the war. They were unable to reconcile even when the war was over in 1975. In addition, as the Khmer Rouge was overthrown by the Vietnamese, a large portion of the population moved along with the retreating Khmer Rouge to the west and the Thai border, instead of returning home. Some were able to move to third countries. Others repatriated in the early 1990s.
In addition, families were torn apart when the Khmer Rouge finally took over Cambodia in April 1975. This time deliberate policies were set up to make sure that the family institution was destroyed. During the Khmer Rouge regime of three years, eight months and twenty days, almost two million Cambodian people of all creeds, political orientations and ethnicities perished due to summary execution, malnutrition, starvation and forced labor. Families were deliberately separated and put into labor units. Various work brigades were created to replace previous social units. Marriages were organized en masse by Angkar (the name for the shadowy Khmer Rouge leadership). Children were put in child units and taught that their parents were Angkar. At the end of the Khmer Rouge regime in January 1979, people walked back to their homes of 1975 hoping that they would meet their family members. However, only some families were rejoined with their lost relatives during that time. With a minimal death rate of up to one in seven, most people arrived home alone, and almost everyone found some of their family members missing as they tried to rebuild their lives. People made efforts both during the Khmer Rouge regime and after to locate their lost relatives, but their efforts have too often been futile. We are consistently told that the most important piece of information that survivors of the Khmer Rouge regime would like to know with certainty is the fate of their lost loved ones.
The book of records would also include basic information relating to the Khmer Rouge history, its security apparatus, its rise and its demise. It would also discuss concepts relating to disappearance and its impacts on psychological well-being of survivors today. This book would also include names of those DC-Cam has in its Biographical Database, which DC-Cam is not certain whether they were dead or alive. These names would help in family tracing efforts. The book would be distributed free of charge to commune offices in Cambodia, so that people can see the names of their lost relatives and search for those names that DC-Cam has on records. The book would then receive comments from villagers on accuracy of the information and family tracing requests.
By publishing names of those people who died under the Khmer Rouge and their stories, the book has many roles. It is an acknowledgement of the suffering of those who died under the Khmer Rouge. For thirty years after the Khmer Rouge regime ended in 1979, people have talked about the regime in formal and informal settings, 80 memorials were constructed around the country and a few genocide museums were built including Tuol Sleng. However, these places tend to be nameless and faceless. Many of them exhibit skulls and bones. They signify the gross violence of genocide, but they have very few individualistic characters. This is the gap that this book attempts to fill in. The book not only for the first time in thirty years record names of those people who died under the Khmer Rouge, it also includes a short story about of each individual, relating to the moment they were evacuated from cities or their early experience with the Khmer Rouge in the “liberated areas”, the work teams they were assigned to and ultimately the story relating to their death. These stories would be told through the memories of their surviving relatives. The book would also include any memories of the victims, including photographs, handwriting and pictures of their artifacts. For those victims who were prisoners of a security center, a summary of their confessions would be included to reveal their suffering under the torture center. By helping to locate lost family members or to determine whether they are dead or alive, the book would play important parts in process of closure for survivors.
If you would like to have your relatives’ names, who died under the Khmer Rouge or disappeared then, appearing in this book, please contact Mr. Kok-Thay ENG at tel: 012-955-858 or email: truthkokthay@dccam.org.
A Story of a Phnom Penh’s Elite Family under the Khmer Rouge
Sisamuth Eng Sunnari was the oldest daughter of a large family of eight children. When the Khmer Rouge took Phnom Penh she was about 15 years old. She remembers the day of the evacuation vividly. Her family lived in a villa near Pasteur street in Phnom Penh. On the day the Khmer Rouge came to Phnom Penh, like other families, Sunnari’s family was busy gathering and counting members to make sure everybody was onboard for the hasty trip to the countryside. After loading belongings onto a wagon, her father Sisamuth Chan Sari, wrote a note and stuck it on the front gate of their villa. Sunnari remembers her asking her father the purpose of the letter. He said the letter was for an old friend named Khieu Samphan to read when would arrive in Phnom Penh. It said in Sunnari’s words: “Brother, if you saw this letter, please help us. We have left to our hometown in Kartie.” Sunnari did not know who Khieu Samphan was. So she asked her father about the person. Her father told her that Khieu Samphan used to stay in her grandfather’s house when Khieu Samphan was a young student, coming to the city to study. Now Sunnari’s father expected Khieu Samphan to return some favor to the family. Sunnari’s family never met and never heard about Khieu Samphan for a long time since the war began.
The family was evacuated to Khsach Andet commune, Chhlong district, Kratie province. They were put in a Cham village. By this time the Khmer Rouge had intended to mix Cham and Khmer families together in an attempt to mix cultures and diffuse ethnical religions. Sometimes they dispersed the Chams from their traditional villages to other parts of the country. In November 1975 the Khmer Rouge had already planned to relocate more than 150,000 Chams from Eastern zone after a rebellion by the same people against the Khmer Rouge earlier in the year. In a cold, winter night in the early 1976, Sunnari’s father (Sisamuth Chan Sari) was taken away by the Khmer Rouge. He was loaded onto a boat along with many other people. Sunnari never saw her father since then. In around May 1978, two years after the devastating disappearance of her father, Sunnari’s mother (Tep Kim Seng) and her seven younger siblings were taken away by the Khmer Rouge. Sunnari was not at the scene when it happened. She was sent to the border and was later sheltered from the Khmer Rouge by a Cham family. Sunnari was told that many black trucks came to the village and took many people away along with her family.
Sunnari’s mother Tep Kim Seng was the second wife of her father Sisamuth Chan Sari who had married a French wife and had eight children with her. Today members of his first wife are living in France. Chan Sari was a staff member of the Commisier Central. He later became an employee of the Cambodian Red Cross. His father named Sam Sisamuth was a former mayor of Phnom Penh city. Sunnari’s experience was a story of an upper class Phnom Penh family which was devastated by the Khmer Rouge. Today she lives in Kampong Thom province. As she reveals the plight of her family, for the first time in a formal way to DC-Cam, she cried and she wanted to send her words to Khieu Samphan. How could he be so ungrateful toward the people who had sheltered and cared for him?
Surviving relative: Sisamuth Eng Sunnari, Age: 50, Address: Kampong Thom province.
Relatives Died Under the Khmer Rouge:
Sisamuth Chan Sari (a.k.a Chhaom)
-Sex: Male
-Age: Born in the year of the tiger
-Died: Early 1976, at age 50
-Relation with survivor: Father
-Story: Left Phnom Penh on April 17, 1975 and headed for birthplace in Kratie along with family, but was settled in Prek Tahub village, Ksach Andet commune, Chhlong district, Kratie province. He was taken by the Khmer Rouge at 12 pm at night and then loaded onto a boat with many other peoples, according to Sisamuth Eng Sunnari.
Tep Kim Seng (a.k.a Eng)
-Sex: Female
-Age: Born in the year of the dragon
-Died: In May 1978, at age 35
-Relation with survivor: Mother
-Story: In May 1978, many trucks came to the village and loaded people away, along with seven siblings of Sisamuth Chan Sari. They include:
Sisamuth Eng Sunnarong (called Pach), female, year of tiger
Sisamuth Chandarit (called Bros), male, year of rabbit
Sisamuth Chansori (called Srei), female, year of dragon
Sisamuth Chanyurann, male, year of snake
Sisamuth Chansomaly, female, year of horse
Sisamuth Keomony, female, year of goat
Sisamuth Kati, female, year of monkey
Letter from Thai Sokhom
May name is Thai Sokhom, daughter of Thai Cho (dead) and Khut Hakk, 76. I reside in Snar Py Muk village, Prek Khporp sub-district, Ek Phnom Phnom district, (former Sangke district), Battambang province. I would like to search for a person by the name of Thai Han (now 50), who left the Faculty of Law while he was taking a preparatory course for the official entry exam. He stayed in the care of his cousin Chum Chuop and her husband Ven Von, a worker at the Seng Thai Textile Factory, Kilometer 6, Phnom Penh. Around April 17, 1975 I heard that Thai Han visited [our] homestead by bicycle, driving across Kampong Thom province. When he reached Kampong Kdei district, Siem Reap, information about him stopped. Therefore I would call for your return because our mother is getting older, while waiting for you all the time. I would also like to appeal to the general public that if Thai Han is found, I can be reached at House No.135, Group 9, Sna Mukpy village, Ek Phnom district, Battambang province.
Letter from Ly La
My father’s name was Korn Ty Chheang, but in Pol Pot time he changed it to Lim Chor to avoid detection. However, they still found him in 1977. My father was born in Takeo in 1929 and joined the French Colonial Army around 1948. He was stationed in Thmar Pech, Kampong Cham province until the French left and Cambodia gained independence. He was later transferred to Kampong Speu and then to Phnom Penh after the coup in 1970. He was a major in the Artillery Division.
After Pol Pot entered Phnom Penh, we went to his hometown in Takeo province, and later were put on the train to Sisophon. My family was “distributed” to Bos-sbov village in Phnom Srok district in late 1975. There, my father still went by the name of Lim Chor, hoping that no one knew his background. But unfortunately, there were people from his home town who knew him and were sent to the same village with us. To gain favor from the village leadership, they reported my father’s army background to the district security chief. However, with luck and hard work, my father managed to hang on until March or April of 1977. One night around 10:00, according to my mother, the group leader came to the hut and called him see the village chief for a meeting. My mother knew right away that this must be the end, but dared not to ask or do anything. My sisters and I were in the fields at that time. My father never returned. Thereafter, we were warned to shut up and forced to take double workloads every day.
A few weeks later, I was told that my father was seen in Phnom Srok, the district capital, which is about 5 km from Bos-Sbov. But back then, there were all kinds of rumors and it was hard to verify because, as you know, you could only whisper to close friends.
I know that there is almost no chance that my father is still alive, but I just want to get a sense of closure on this ordeal. Moreover, after reading Issue 9 of your magazine (September 2000) on Mass Graves in Banteay Meanchey, I hope that there may be some documents or witnesses that can shed some light on what happened to my father, especially Mr. Chhum Ruom, a deputy district governor and former prisoner in Phnom Srok, who was interviewed by your magazine. Maybe he can help if we can contact him.
Letter of Gratitude for Identification of a Father
My name is Khun Kol Phievatei, and I reside in Svay Rieng Province. I would like to express my gratitude to Mr. Youk Chhang, director of the Documentation Center of Cambodia’s Searching for the truth, and his colleagues for finding my father’s identification. He was captured and killed by Angkar at Tuol Sleng Prison (S-21).
With this thanks, I would also like to make another request: In the next volume of your magazine, please publish my father’s picture and the confession he recorded at S-21 so that I can see his face and read the dreadful words. I strongly hope that you will fulfill my request as well as those of Cambodian citizens who wish to learn the truth. I wish you and your subordinates happiness and safety.
The Book of Memory of Those Who Died under the Khmer Rouge
The Documentation Center of Cambodia is writing and compiling a book of records of names of those who died under the Khmer Rouge regime from 1975 to 1979 and those who disappeared during the period, who are still not known by their relatives. It also includes a section for family tracing purposes. DC-Cam already has in its database up to a million names of those who may have died under the Khmer Rouge.
This book of memory and records also lists names of prisoners found at S-21 and 200 other security centers under the Khmer Rouge regime. Under the Khmer Rouge regime nearly two million people died of four main causes: execution by the Khmer Rouge, starvation, forced labors and malnutrition. The four causes are interconnected. People were executed in the villages, in the rice fields, in a nearby forest or simply around the compound of a security center. Some died along the border in the war between Cambodia and Vietnam. The other causes of death include that of starvation, forced labors and malnutrition. Although the Khmer Rouge put virtually all ordinary people to work in the fields to grow food or do field-supporting activities, they were given little food to eat in return. As a result starvation was a major cause of death under the Khmer Rouge. Many of these people were forced to work long hours, up to 12 or 14 hours a day, without rest seven days a week. With very little food and virtually no modern medical care, many people died as a result.
There are many ways in which people were separated from their families. The civil war between 1970 and 1975 effectively divided Cambodia between the “liberated area” controlled by the Khmer Rouge and areas controlled by the Khmer Republic led by General Lon Nol. Families and relatives were often separated. In some instances, brothers fought on either side of the war. They were unable to reconcile even when the war was over in 1975. In addition, as the Khmer Rouge was overthrown by the Vietnamese, a large portion of the population moved along with the retreating Khmer Rouge to the west and the Thai border, instead of returning home. Some were able to move to third countries. Others repatriated in the early 1990s.
In addition, families were torn apart when the Khmer Rouge finally took over Cambodia in April 1975. This time deliberate policies were set up to make sure that the family institution was destroyed. During the Khmer Rouge regime of three years, eight months and twenty days, almost two million Cambodian people of all creeds, political orientations and ethnicities perished due to summary execution, malnutrition, starvation and forced labor. Families were deliberately separated and put into labor units. Various work brigades were created to replace previous social units. Marriages were organized en masse by Angkar (the name for the shadowy Khmer Rouge leadership). Children were put in child units and taught that their parents were Angkar. At the end of the Khmer Rouge regime in January 1979, people walked back to their homes of 1975 hoping that they would meet their family members. However, only some families were rejoined with their lost relatives during that time. With a minimal death rate of up to one in seven, most people arrived home alone, and almost everyone found some of their family members missing as they tried to rebuild their lives. People made efforts both during the Khmer Rouge regime and after to locate their lost relatives, but their efforts have too often been futile. We are consistently told that the most important piece of information that survivors of the Khmer Rouge regime would like to know with certainty is the fate of their lost loved ones.
The book of records would also include basic information relating to the Khmer Rouge history, its security apparatus, its rise and its demise. It would also discuss concepts relating to disappearance and its impacts on psychological well-being of survivors today. This book would also include names of those DC-Cam has in its Biographical Database, which DC-Cam is not certain whether they were dead or alive. These names would help in family tracing efforts. The book would be distributed free of charge to commune offices in Cambodia, so that people can see the names of their lost relatives and search for those names that DC-Cam has on records. The book would then receive comments from villagers on accuracy of the information and family tracing requests.
By publishing names of those people who died under the Khmer Rouge and their stories, the book has many roles. It is an acknowledgement of the suffering of those who died under the Khmer Rouge. For thirty years after the Khmer Rouge regime ended in 1979, people have talked about the regime in formal and informal settings, 80 memorials were constructed around the country and a few genocide museums were built including Tuol Sleng. However, these places tend to be nameless and faceless. Many of them exhibit skulls and bones. They signify the gross violence of genocide, but they have very few individualistic characters. This is the gap that this book attempts to fill in. The book not only for the first time in thirty years record names of those people who died under the Khmer Rouge, it also includes a short story about of each individual, relating to the moment they were evacuated from cities or their early experience with the Khmer Rouge in the “liberated areas”, the work teams they were assigned to and ultimately the story relating to their death. These stories would be told through the memories of their surviving relatives. The book would also include any memories of the victims, including photographs, handwriting and pictures of their artifacts. For those victims who were prisoners of a security center, a summary of their confessions would be included to reveal their suffering under the torture center. By helping to locate lost family members or to determine whether they are dead or alive, the book would play important parts in process of closure for survivors.
If you would like to have your relatives’ names, who died under the Khmer Rouge or disappeared then, appearing in this book, please contact Mr. Kok-Thay ENG at tel: 012-955-858 or email: truthkokthay@dccam.org.
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About Me
- Duong Dara
- Dara Duong was born in 1971 in Battambang province, Cambodia. His life changed forever at age four, when the Khmer Rouge took over the country in 1975. During the regime that controlled Cambodia from 1975-1979, Dara’s father, grandparents, uncle and aunt were executed, along with almost 3 million other Cambodians. Dara’s mother managed to keep him and his brothers and sisters together and survive the years of the Khmer Rouge regime. However, when the Vietnamese liberated Cambodia, she did not want to live under Communist rule. She fled with her family to a refugee camp on the Cambodian-Thai border, where they lived for more than ten years. Since arriving in the United States, Dara’s goal has been to educate people about the rich Cambodian culture that the Khmer Rouge tried to destroy and about the genocide, so that the world will not stand by and allow such atrocities to occur again. Toward that end, he has created the Cambodian Cultural Museum and Killing Fields Memorial, which began in his garage and is now in White Center, Washington. Dara’s story is one of survival against enormous odds, one of perseverance, one of courage and hope.