Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Ozay Mehmet is at the Norman Paterson School of International Affairs, Carleton University, 1125 Colonel By
Drive, Ottawa, Canada K1S 5B6
TABLE 1.
Structure and growth of Cambodian GDP, 1990± 95
a
Projected.
Source: FSEDP, p 86, Table 7.2, p 103, Table 8.2.
TABLE 2.
Sectoral allocation targets for public investment, 1996± 2000 (%)
Total
Sector Rural Urban Sector (US$ million)
Agriculture 97 3 10 220
Manufacturing and mining 25 75 4 88
Transport and communications 85 15 23 506
Electricity 26 74 8 176
Water supply and sanitation 25 75 8 176
Education and training 75 25 11 242
Health 75 25 10 220
Social and community services 70 30 7 154
Religious and cultural affairs 60 40 3 66
Administration, special programme 50 50 11 242
Unallocated 65 35 5 110
Total 65 35 100 2200
culture: it is the revolt of the hinterland against the foreigners; it is the rising up
of the youth against their elders and their ancestors’ . 2 No doubt considerable
blame must be attributed to external actors such as the Thais, Vietnamese,
French and Americans who, at various times in the last 500 years of Cambodian
history, invaded the country and brutalised its people. But the primacy of
internal over external determinants must be acknowledged, because one has
to concur with Marie A. Martin, a longtime friend of the `martyred Khmer
people’ , whose judgment was that `the Khmer people also produced the Pol Pots,
the Ieng Sarys, the Khieu Samphans, the barely adolescent yothea (combatants)
who ¼ [made] the Khmer revolution so terrible when ª the children were in
powerº ’ .3
Chief among internal determinants has to be the Khmer idea of kingship and
power. It is of course not unique, manifesting, for example, some remarkable
parallels to the Javanese idea of power,4 which I have examined elsewhere.5
Linked to divine or supernatural power, the Khmer±Sanskrit idea of devaraja
(god king or king of gods)6 legitimises a tradition of cult worship, or `legitimacy
by divine royalty’ 7 which, by putting emphasis on form rather than substance
and ritual rather than accountability, places a huge social distance between the
ruled and the ruler, elevates the patron±client relationship to the divine order and
ends up sheltering injustice and exploitation. This divinely-sanctioned inequality,
justifying caste and slavery for example, periodically bursts into horri® c viol-
ence, as repeatedly demonstrated in Cambodian history. Human suffering in this
hierarchical and fatalistic web of order and disorder is part and parcel of the idea
of karma (predestination) and the concept of neak mean bonn (he who has
merit). Khmer society has always been conservative and elitist: there is a
relatively small (15%) urban and a large (85%) rural population living in quite
different worlds, but each further subdivided by great inequalities. At the bottom
of the social pyramid is the poor peasantry, dependant on rice cultivation in an
ecological and feudal order little changed since the heyday of Angkor Wat. The
peasantry is extremely conservative, living a simple and precarious life shaped
by the endless cycle of seasons and monsoon rains. Superstition is part and
parcel of this ® xed world-view in which the idea of a King of Cambodia is the
essential core of Khmerness. The Khmer peasant equates kingship with legiti-
macy and submits to higher authority as something supernaturally determined
without question. Khmers are taught to live by neak chuo, knowing one’ s place,
with silent dignity, but always in awe of higher authority. In brief, it adds up to
a structure that appears to be incompatible with the idea of modern development
and economic growth.
But that would be too hasty a judgment. Other Southeast Asian nations, with
similar cultural values, are now emerging as Tigers. So it is necessary to probe
deeper into the soul and structure of Cambodian society to analyse and
understand `its horrifying uniqueness’ .8
This is where Cambodia’ s past, speci® cally the Angkor Wat civilization,
comes in. For it still de® nes the Cambodian soul. Khmer society is structured,
like a Buddhist temple, in layer upon layer of groups and classes, each exploiting
those below, in a massive process of rent-seeking atop mass poverty at the
bottom of the social pyramid. In earlier days, this society was simply reduced to
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WHAT NEXT IN CAMBODIA?
two unequal parts: ruler and subjects, a few patrons in control of a mass of
slaves or persons in bondage. It is important to remember that Angkor Wat, the
Cambodian Parthenon, was built by slave labour! In the last 500 years, little
seems to have changed in the basic, hierarchical structure of Khmer society.
Now women, either unpaid rural family workers or those subsisting on petty
trading in the urban informal sectors, are at the bottom of this socioeconomic
pyramid.
Are there precedents for the Pol Pot model in Cambodian history? The short
answer, sadly, is yes. Many, besides Pol Pot, have sought to change the
seemingly ® xed structure of inequality throughout Cambodian history. The
Chams were perhaps the earliest wave of invaders with a cultural agenda.
Originating from present-day Indonesia and Malaysia, these Muslim conquerors
overran Angkor Wat in 1177 and sought to Islamise the Khmers. The Chams
were ® nally defeated in 1191. The great Khmer hero, the victorious King
Jayavarman VII, chose, at the pinnacle of his power, to break with the Khmer
past, and imposed, in a brutal and totalitarian way, a Hinduisation programme on
his people, forcing them to convert from the Mahayana to the Theravada variant
of Buddhism. The eminent historian of Cambodia, David Chandler, has com-
pared this cultural transformation to Pol Pot’ s genocidal revolution during
1975±79.9
During the next couple of centuries Angkor Wat declined, weakened intern-
ally from moral decay and attacked by powerful neighbours. It was ® nally
abandoned in the 14th century; literally left to be consumed by the jungle, the
Khmer civilisation shattered. The nationalism of the Pol Pot clique was the
product of this shattered civilisation, a mind-set so deluded that it believed it
could recreate a self-suf® cient rice economy with forced labour, copying the
Angkor Wat civilisation `in order to show that today’ s tiny Cambodia could
create great works’ .10 Pol Pot used to boast: `If we can build Angkor, we can do
anything’ .11
In the ® ve centuries after the abandonment of Angkor Wat, Khmers lived in
constant war and violence. Their larger neighbours, Siamese (Thais) to the west,
and Vietnamese to the east, have sought repeatedly to invade, subjugate and
transform the Khmers, with frequent cycles of destruction and violence. Ulti-
mately, Phnom Penh physically replaced Angkor Wat as the national capital. But
in the Khmer psyche the glory of Angkor survives as the soul of Khmerness,
symbolised by a paradox of extremesÐ the smiling Buddha engulfed by the
seven-headed Serpent. The silent outward dignity of the Khmer discloses a latent
fury similar to a Malay running amok or an exploding volcano, indiscriminately
destroying everything around it.
The Khmer history is tragic, Cambodia a scene of non-stop war and con¯ ict.
The 19th century was an especially traumatic period. The Cambodian royal
house and the Okya, the high-ranking mandarins, were always divided, ready to
deal with the stronger Siamese or Vietnamese, or whoever offered better aid and
protection for self-aggrandisement. During 1835±40 the Khmers suffered a
particularly brutalising Vietnamisation programme. Finally, in 1863 the French
colonialists arrived, at the invitation of the Khmer king, imposing yet another
foreign domination. Driven by their `mission civilisatrice’ , the French `discov-
677
OZAY MEHMET
ered’ Angkor Wat but then proceeded to destroy the Khmer culture by forcing
on the Khmers a totally alien language, education and values.
The end of French colonialism in the mid-1950s did not lead to a patriotic
revival or post-colonial national development. On the contrary, the country slid
into political chaos, with a succession of weak royalist, republican and military
governments. Phnom Penh became a den of decadence (the `cognac and
concubine circuit’ 12). In 1970 the military strongman Lon Nol, supported by the
Nixon administration, decided to overthrow the playboy Prince Sihanouk (his
latest passion was ® lm-making) who seemed oblivious to the agony of his
nation. Lon Nol’ s republic was initially popular among the urban Khmers but
confused the peasantry, who continued as always to venerate the kingship,
though it was now falling into the hands of the Communists. Sihanouk, in exile
in Beijing and under Chinese protection, felt obliged to enter into a marriage of
convenience with his earlier enemies the Khmer Rouge against Lon Nol and his
US backers. The marriage won the Khmer Rouge royalist legitimacy in the eyes
of the Cambodian peasantry, who in `liberated’ areas were designated by the
Khmer Rouge as `the old people’ , while giving Sihanouk the chance to wage war
against the US puppet Lon Nol.
During 1970±75 the Cambodian nation suffered not only from the civil war
between the Khmer Rouge and republican forces, but also from the extension of
the war in Vietnam into Cambodia. Nixon’ s illegal war in Cambodia and carpet
bombing by US B52s, ostensibly targeting Vietcong sanctuaries, devastated
eastern provinces bordering Vietnam. Finally, the Americans pulled the rug from
under Lon Nol’ s feet. The US Congress decided to terminate aid and end
Nixon’s illegal war in Cambodia. As a result, two weeks before the fall of
Saigon, the Cambodian capital, now overcrowded with half a million half-starv-
ing and demoralised refugees, fell into the hands of the Khmer Rouge. As its
army of child soldiers marched into Phnom Penh on 17 April 1975 claiming
victory over US imperialists and `the oppressive, blood-sucking and bone-
gnawing regime of the traitorous Lon Nol clique’ ,13 the Pol Pot clique took the
destiny of the Cambodian nation into its hands.
In April 1975, then, this was the sorry state of Cambodia: a deposed Sihanouk
in exile in Beijing, busy stoking the ® res of a bloody civil war at home, yet still
venerated by a peasantry now controlled by a brutal clique allied to the
Vietcong, which was ® ghting a US-backed puppet military regime and found
itself parachuted into power with no agenda other than a concoction of Marxist±
Leninist ideology and a desire for revenge against the urban Khmers who, as `the
new people’ , became the slave labour of the Khmer Rouge revolution.
Within days of taking power, the revolutionary clique, known mysteriously
only as the Angkar (the organisation) and led by the equally mysterious Saloth
Sar, alias Pol Pot, a leader obsessed with secrecy and security preferring simply
to be known as `Brother Number One’ ,14 began a reign of terror directed at the
`new people’ (ie the urban population), in contrast to the `old people’ in the
`liberated areas’ , punishing them with immediate mass expulsion from Phnom
Penh and other towns to mark the start of the `Total Revolution’ for the
construction of a Kampuchean utopia.
The evacuation order was not purely vindictive punishment in¯ icted on the
678
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enemy, the `new people’ . There was a demonic rationality behind it, indeed it
was a calculated, revolutionary step: It was designed to provide forced labour for
the regime’ s agricultural strategy. Somewhat surprisingly in view of the anti-
intellectual bias of the Pol Pot regime, its development strategy was designed by
well educated leaders who had themselves been teachers. While Pol Pot did not
complete higher education, Ieng Sary, Hu Nim and Khieu Samphan had
extensive university education in France, where they learnt their Marxist±
Leninist theories. Khieu Samphan, who was widely regarded as the `intellectual’
among the Khmer Rouge leadership, received his PhD in agricultural economics
in 1959.15
Rice cultivation was to be the centerpiece of a classless and entirely autarkic,
self-reliant society. The `new people’ became the slaves of the new Angkor Wat.
They were organised into production teams on the collective farms and com-
munes, under the strict control of cadres, to produce surpluses and meet
impossible production targets by leaders ignorant of rice cultivation methods or
irrigation hydrology.16
Formally, the economic strategy of the regime was outlined in the Four Year
Plan, announced by Pol Pot in August 1976.17 The plan followed no outside
model. It was an ideologically driven exercise in utopian agrarian socialism
centred on rice production, as in the Angkorian period. Pol Pot was obsessed
with rice. He believed that `if we have rice, we have everything’ . Accordingly,
the plan’ s central aim was the totally unrealistic target of `three tons of rice per
hectare’ by 1980. This was expected to produce an exportable surplus of 26.7
million tons of paddy over the life of the plan, and to earn $1.4 billion in foreign
exchange. The income would then be utilised to purchase modern farm machin-
ery, tools and fertiliser and to enable Cambodia to industrialise, ultimately
acquiring heavy industries, even developing tourist resorts ` ¼ as places to
relax’ .18
The three ton per hectare implied a tripling of rice production within four
years, a technically impossible task since past Cambodian yields had averaged
a mere one ton per hectare. What is more, the plan did not rely on any modern
farm technology, or massive investment in agricultural infrastructure. The sole
`development resource’ was the labour of more than one million `new people’
forced into slavery on collective farms and irrigation works. As a technical
document, the Four Year Plan was `slapdash, naive and uninformed’ .19 It
substituted ideology and party slogans for technical know-how and investible
resources. Pol Pot’ s ideology was party dictatorship in the extreme. The
`collectivized revolutionary will’ became the tool of a deluded leadership set to
eradicate individualism.20 Suffering from extreme paranoia, the leadership
equated any adverse news or discontent as anti-revolutionary sentiment amount-
ing to treason. After 1976 rice production fell and starvation emerged as waves
of purges within the party and the military were matched by massive human
rights violations in the cooperatives and collectives. The reign of terror blocked
any effective plan implementation or monitoring at grassroots. The party
leadership was totally isolated from actual realities in the rice ® elds and the
irrigation works. Cadres and subordinates only fed it what the central leadership
wished to hear, thereby `causing false optimism at the top even as rice
679
OZAY MEHMET
production faltered and workers died’ .21 In short, the Four Year Plan was a
crude and brutal prescription for forced labour mobilised to produce an export-
able surplus. In return, the only material incentive explicitly promised to the
people in the plan was increased frequency of `desserts’ in future: `In 1977 there
are to be two desserts per week. In 1978 there will be one dessert every two
days. Then in 1979, one desert every day, and so on’ .22
Seen in this tragic context, Pol Pot and his collaborators appear as demonised
products of Cambodian history, arrogant and deluded Khmer nationalists, in-
spired in part by Mao’ s Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution, but
with minds distorted by a misreading of the radical French ideology of mass
violence aÁ la Franz Fanon and Georges Sorel.23
In one fell swoop Pol Pot sought to copy King Jayavarman VII, to break with
the past, to cleanse all injustice and oppression and to rebuild Khmer society
afresh, with surplus rice and correct ideology. `The DK regime differed pro-
foundly [from the earlier regimes of Sihanouk and Lon Nol]. Its commitment
was to the total transformation of Cambodia’ s economy and of people’ s ways of
working, thinking and behaving.’ 24 Revolutionary ideology was suddenly discov-
ered in the authentic Khmer worker-peasant, the source of all technical knowl-
edge required to manage the rice cooperatives and communes under the brutal
control of cadres who were themselves expected by their superiors to be models
in every respect, perfectly implementing the will of the organisation. In their
utopian rice economy, the arrogant Democratic Kampuchea (DK) leadership had
no room for intellectuals or technical knowledge. As Khieu Samphan, the
`intellectual guru’ of the Khmer Rouge and Chairman of the State Presidium put
it, `Our worker-peasant class, under the leadership of our revolutionary organi-
zation, immediately grasped technical expertise after it seized political power’ .
While the slave-workers on collectives perished from undernourishment, over-
work, disease and death, rice production fell and rations had to be cut, Khieu
Samphan deluded himself into thinking ` ¼ that technical skill is not the
determining factor (of ef® ciency). The determining factor is in fact the political
and ideological stand of our fraternal dock workers.’ 25
State terror became a puri® cation instrument of the Total Revolution. Mass
executions for `wrongdoing’, torture of counter-revolutionaries, waves of purges
within the organisation itself increasingly emerged as the necessary tools to
extract sacri® ce on the altar of national reconstruction and defence. In 1977,
against the background of an intensifying war with Vietnam, purges increased
dramatically, consuming some of Pol Pot’ s closest friends and leading ® gures of
the regime including Hu Nim, the Minister of Information and Propaganda. Pol
Pot lived in constant fear of losing power and his mass execution centre at SC21
worked overtime to eliminate spies and agents suspected of working for the CIA,
Vietnamese and other enemies of the regime. This chronic fear was combined
with traditional Khmer pride and a hatred of the Vietnamese, who were
constantly expected to invade the country. The result was extreme xenophobia
and an ideology of the most puritanical autarky, known as `independence-
mastery’ 26, which surpassed even that of Enver Hoxha’ s Albania in cutting
itself off from the rest of the world.
The DK revolution was to be a uniquely Khmer development, totally self-
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WHAT NEXT IN CAMBODIA?
reliant, ® nanced out of the labour and blood of the people. Labour and sacri® ce
were deemed to be suf® cient inputs in building a collectivised rice economy.
Rice surplus was to be the means of ® nancing future industrialisation on the road
to modernising the country. This purely domestic and autarkic development,
never attempted elsewhere, was only comparable to the glorious Angkor Wat.
In their zeal for their utopia, the megalomaniac DK leadership believed that it
neither needed, nor followed, any outside models. Pol Pot’ s `independence-
mastery’ required rejection of all foreign aid, save a limited quantity from the PRC.
Thus cut off from the rest of the world, the Pol Pot clique monopolised
and maintained power with unbelievable arrogance. The ex-teachers, now turned
totalitarian rulers of Cambodia, destroyed schools and education, eliminated
intellectuals and technical personnel. Skilled human resources were viewed with
disdain and considered dangerous to the regime; persons wearing reading glasses
were targeted as parasitical intellectuals and punished. Money was abolished and
replaced by barter, private property was banned. Family, education and religion
were all declared illegal to make room for the one virtue which the clique
prizedÐ party loyalty, extracted by state terror. The ultimate contradiction was
that the regime attempted to build a new Angkor Wat, with slave labour, in
pursuit of a classless utopia.
State terror had manifold uses in Democratic Kampuchea. It became the
inversion of justice and morality, the means of settling scores and imposing
social change on the decadent and corrupt parasites such as the feudalists,
royalists, mandarins and petite bourgeoisie.27 Any rival authority from the past,
such as religion or education, was exterminated. Temples, churches and mosques
were destroyed or converted into warehouses. Marriages, now strictly regulated
by the fearful organisation, were solemnised by vows of loyalty to the Angkar.
No longer needed, Buddhist monks, teachers and students were herded into the
rice ® elds to join thousands of nameless others cut off from their social, family
or individual identity. Schools were converted into centres of state torture and
mass executions, such as the notorious Tuol Sleng (Security Centre 21) in
Phnom Penh,28 and Cambodia was turned into a `Killing Fields’ in an uncontrol-
lable passion for the blood of traitors, counter-revolutionaries and enemies of the
regime who seemed to lurk everywhere. The only equality in Democratic
Kampuchea was that everyone had an equal chance of arbitrary death at the
hands of Pol Pot’ s henchmen under the leadership of Brother Number One.
Western guilt and delayed response to the genocide: the NGO invasion
With the defeat and departure of Americans from Indochina, the Western
response to Pol Pot’ s mass-scale human rights violations was initially one of
total indifference. The Cambodian genocide was ignored. `Even the UN turned
a deaf ear.’ 29 Western human rights organisations, including Amnesty Inter-
national, were indifferent,30 even after the overthrow of the DK leadership in
early 1979 which, at least partially, removed the Khmer Rouge entry barriers.
From the late 1980s onwards Western indifference and guilt ® nally resulted in
the arrival of a new invading force in Cambodia: Western NGOs. Now they are
everywhere, managing and delivering essential services to the large rural
681
OZAY MEHMET
primary education for young girls. Women constitute the majority of the labour
force, but they are the most neglected, oppressed and vulnerable part of the
shattered Cambodian society. Young women (as well as boys, of course) need
to be encouraged to stay in school, to be educated with a modern curriculum
taught by quali® ed teachers. They must be equipped with productive skills and
assisted with ef® cient credit for self-employment and high-paying jobs in
industry, tourism and the service sectors. Subsistence agriculture, and informal
sectors in urban centres, are no substitute for schooling; they are recipes for
persistent poverty.
The First Socio-economic Development Plan, 1995± 1999, for Cambodia is a
good start. It promises to devote two-thirds of the total public investment of
US$2.2 billion in rural areas to expand the physical and social infrastructure,
with a high priority for education, especially at the primary level. The plan,
which requires 100% external ® nancing, can only be put into practice if
Cambodia’ s donors provide the funds. For the sake of Cambodians, the supply
of these funds must be on the basis of effective accountability rules, to ensure
effective plan implementation that actually bene® ts intended target groups and
not the rent-seeking gatekeepers.
On this basis, the plan deserves to be given a chance and external support.
Even then, however, its future remains in doubt. For one thing, it awaits political
endorsement from a paralysed parliament in Phnom Penh, where elected politi-
cians are boycotting the legislature as part of the ongoing power struggle
between the CPP and FUNCINPEC .37 Even with the best of goodwill, domestic
action is unlikely to be suf® cient for the Plan’ s successful implementation. The
fact is that Cambodia’ s destiny is not entirely in its own hands. Its larger
neighbours, who have a great stake in regional stability, have a crucial role to
play. It is hoped that this role will be positive and constructive, leading to
Cambodia’ s integration within ASEAN. But such an integration must be tied to
effective implementation of the Development Plan.
Beyond the regional level, in the international arena, the most important
requirement is to provide development assistance with effective rules of account-
ability and transparency to ensure that investment in Cambodian development
actually bene® ts those in need, especially rural target groups, rather than the
gatekeepers.
Postscript: Since this article was written, a year ago, events in Cambodia have,
sadly, evolved much as predicted, especially after Hun Sen’ s `coup’ of July 1997
ousting the ® rst PM Prince Ranariddh. The collapse of the CPP-FUNCINPEC
coalition has renewed the civil war which has alarmed Cambodia’ s donors and
ASEAN neighbours. The future is grim and uncertain.
Notes
Grateful thanks are due to Din Merican for help in writing this paper, which also bene® ted from the comments
of participants at a seminar at the National University of Malaysia, Bangi on 12 August 1996. The author alone
is responsible for all opinions expressed in the paper.
1
William Shawcross, Sideshow: Kissinger, Nixon and the Destruction of Cambodia, New York: Simon and
Shuster, 1979.
685
OZAY MEHMET
2
Karl D. Jackson (ed), Cambodia 1975± 1978: Rendevouz with Death, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1989, p 152.
3
Marie A Martin, Cambodia: A Shattered Society, Berkeley, CA, University of California Press, 1994, p xix.
4
Benedict Anderson, `The idea of power in Javanese culture’ , in Claire Holt (ed), Culture and Politics in
Indonesia, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1972.
5
Ozay Mehmet, `Rent-seeking and gate-keeping in Indonesia: a cultural and economic analysis’ , Labour,
Capital and Society, 27 (1), 1994, pp 56±89.
6
See David, P Chandler, A History of Cambodia, Boulder, CO: Westview, 1993, pp 34±36.
7
Martin, Cambodia: a Shattered Society, pp 23±24.
8
David P Chandler, The Tragedy of Cambodian History: Politics, War and Revolution since 1945, New
Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1991, p 236.
9
Chandler, A History of Cambodia, pp 68±69.
10
Martin, Cambodia: a Shattered Society, p 205.
11
Quoted in Chandler, The Tragedy of Cambodian History, p 6.
12
As described in Jackson, Cambodia 1975±1978, p 7.
13
Quoted in ibid, p 56.
14
David P Chandler, Brother Number One: A Political Biography of Pol Pot, Chiang Mai, Thailand: Silkworm
Books Boulder, CO: Westview, 1992.
15
Martin, Cambodia: A Shattered History, pp 158±165; and Twinning, in Jackson, Cambodia 1975± 1978,
pp 110±114.
16
Charles H. Twinning, `the economy’ in Jackson, Cambodia 1975±1978, pp 109±150.
17
Chandler, Brother Number One, pp 120±128.
18
Ibid, p 125.
19
Ibid, p 128.
20
Ibid, p 123.
21
Ibid, p 124.
22
Four Year Plan, quoted in Chandler, Brother Number One, p 126.
23
Kenneth Quinn, `the pattern and scope of violence’ in Jackson, Cambodia 1975±1978, pp 231±233.
24
Chandler, The Tragedy of Cambodian History, p 240.
25
Quoted in Jackson, emphasis in the original.
26
Chandler, Brother Number One, pp 121±122.
27
FrancËois Ponchaud.
28
See David Hawk `the photographic record’ and Quinn, in Jackson, Cambodia 1975±1978.
29
FrancËois Ponchaud, Cambodia, Year Zero (translated from the French by Nancy Amphoux), London: Allen
Lane/Penguin Books, 1977, p 215.
30
For a scathing attack on Amnesty International, see Martin, Cambodia: A Shattered Society, Appendix 12,
pp 339±341.
31
Ibid, pp 288±289.
32
Quoted in Shawcross, Sideshow, p 392.
33
Quoted in William Shawcross, `A new Cambodia’ , review of Chandler, Brother Number One, New York
Review of Books, 12 August 1993, p 40.
34
Jason Barber, `Hun Sen takes hard line at party summit’ , Phnom Penh Post, 26 July±8 August 1996, p 1.
35
Michael Vickery, Cambodia 1975±1982, Boston, MA: South End Press, 1984, p 267.
36
Ibid, pp 267±268.
37
Ker Monthit, `MPS busy passing 106 words a fortnight’, Phnom Penh Post, 12±25 July 1996, p 2.
686