Cambodia's progress and its past victims
Cambodia's progress and its past victims
Kavi Chongkittavorn, The Nation, Asia News Network, Bangkok
When I first arrived in Phnom Penh in 1987, the city was not
crowded. There were very few cars. Numerous office and apartment
buildings were left unoccupied. Monivong Boulevard was the only
thoroughfare which served as the center of the city's life. No
advertising billboards except political slogans.
Samakhi and Manorom were the two top hotels for foreign
visitors and journalists. A room with a Russian air-conditioner
and a Vietnamese-made mosquito net cost US$35 (then 875 baht).
During the daytime, the only loud sounds that foreigners heard
were from the exhaust pipes of 1950s-style Honda mopeds, the most
prized commodity. When night fell, the city was in the grip of
darkness and intermittent gunfire -- sometimes from government
security forces fighting with Khmer Rouge guerrillas. Either that
or the gunshots came from drunken soldiers.
Thailand and Cambodia were not on good terms. It was illegal
for Thai citizens to visit Cambodia. Special Branch police
summoned and interrogated those who visited communist neighbor
states. Direct flights or land routes between Thailand and
Cambodia were not available. The most popular way was to travel
to Ho Chi Minh City and then take a taxi to Moc Bai at the
Vietnam-Cambodia border and proceeded along Highway No. 1 to
Phnom Penh.
When The Nation decided to set up an office in Phnom Penh in
1988 in order to report on the other side of the story, I was
given $200 to start with. I rented a ground floor apartment for
$150 a month and had to steal electricity from the apartment next
door. The Nation bureau was criticized by ASEAN countries. They
said ASEAN was at war with the Heng Samrin regime. To have a Thai
correspondent was tantamount to recognizing the enemy. But The
Nation went ahead anyway.
Back then, the long-distance calls had to be re-routed through
Moscow because there was no direct line. Before the United
Nations-brokered peace process, only journalists from Cuba,
Russia and Vietnam were stationed in Cambodia. When the UN peace-
keeping force arrived to arrange the first democratic election,
200 journalists from all over the world came to Cambodia.
Today, Phnom Penh is a modern city like others in the region.
Major regional airlines have direct flights here. Tourists can
stay at major five-star hotels and another three dozen medium-
sized and small ones.
Secretary of State for Information Khieu Kanharith said over
the weekend that the biggest problem he and his team had
encountered in organizing the ASEAN summit was to expand the
three royal suites available in the city to eight to accommodate
the foreign dignitaries. They did it just in time.
As the Asian leaders come in and out of the capital city this
week for a series of summit meetings, Cambodia as a nation has
been transformed. Hundreds of representatives from local and
regional civil-society organizations are holding a series of
parallel meetings on social and human-rights issues.
This is remarkable for a country that has been through civil
wars and genocidal atrocities for almost three decades. For the
ruling Cambodian People's Party, especially Prime Minister Hun
Sen, it is an ultimate moment for him to get together with the
leaders from the North and South to map out the region's future.
The city's residents for their part now enjoy squeaky-clean
streets and a pleasant and safe environment albeit with a heavy
security and police presence. A hotel-operator wished aloud that
there was a summit every day in Cambodia. New traffic lights,
installed by China, have become the talk of the town because of
the huge time indicators. Now Cambodian pedestrians and drivers
know how long they have to wait at traffic lights. They want to
outdo each other.
The most startling development is the presence of a Chinese
community and things Chinese in Phnom Penh. Fancy Chinese
restaurants, including small eating places, are mushrooming. Kao
Xinghe, a Chinese-Khmer shop owner, said that the Chinese
language was very popular, replacing Thai, which was preferred
three years ago.
Kao still owns the grocery shop he used to own when I first
met him in 1987. But he has fewer varieties of food to sell. He
noted the Russians were no longer here. Back in 1987, his shop
was one of the three stores in Phnom Penh where expatriates could
get cheese and wine. But Kao's place was a bit special because he
had a large stock of Russian caviar.
He had a special connection with the Russian diplomats. Russia
maintained the largest presence in Cambodia, second only to
Vietnam back in the 1980s. These Russians residing in Phnom Penh
would barter caviar for other items or cash. At Kao's shop, a
300-gram jar of caviar cost only $6.
The exhibition at Toul Sleng prison used to be a landmark that
Cambodians or foreign visitors had to see to understand the heart
of darkness. Now there are fewer items on show in rooms where the
Khmer Rouge tortured their victims. Nobody seems to pay any
attention to the remaining instruments of death lying on the
floor, as if they were scrap iron of no significance.
The Cambodians have made much progress, and the country is now
at peace with itself, although its democracy is still fragile.
The government wants to put the atrocious history of Cambodia
behind. But the frozen, frightened eyes of young victims from
photographs taken by their Khmer Rouge captors at Toul Sleng are
still there to remind visitors of what Cambodians have suffered.