Cambodian voters fixated on peace

Cambodia goes to polls on Sunday, but the Capital city of Phnom Penh remains strangely indifferent to the democratic fervour. There are hardly any sign of political mobilisation. Big brother Hun Sen, who has ruled the country for the last 33 years, appeals to the people from stray hoardings. But there are no public meetings or door-to-door campaigns.

There is little excitement about the election, damned as “sham” by the West, a claim bitterly contested by Hun Sen’s biggest patron China, which virtually controls the policy and economy of the country.

After the Cambodian Supreme Court last year disbanded the Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP), the present poll became a formality. In the 2013 general election for the 123-member Parliament, the CNRP doubled its tally from 29 to 55, whereas the ruling Cambodian People’s party managed to hung to power with 66 seats, down 22 seats from its tally of 90 in 2008. The CNRP polled close to 45 per cent. Had it not been dissolved, Hun Sen might have been on his way out in the present polls.

In November 2017, the CNRP was dissolved by the Supreme Court on charges of plotting to topple the Hun Sen regime. The court also ruled that 100 top leaders of the CNRP cannot contest elections for the next five years. This removed all the obstacle from the path of Hun Sen, a former Khmer rouge solider. Senior CNRP leader Mu Sochua, who fled the country along with other party activists, described the court’s decision as “the end of true democracy in Cambodia”.

After the demise of the CNRP, no pan-Cambodian Opposition exists in the country. Nearly two dozen smaller parties, some of them allegedly floated and funded by Hun Sen, are now in the fray. Western powers have withdrawn all funding to the elections that has failed to create any ripple. One hardly sees any news of poll campaign or speeches, or for that matter any debate on TV channels here. In fact, nearly all local TV channels are devoted to entertainment. A few have dared to invest in news channels.

Still the perception created by the Western media of Hun Sen as a brutal dictator does not conform to the ground reality. If you thought you are going to be greeted with armed commandoes and menacing cops everywhere you go in the city, you are going to be majorly relieved on landing here. Life hums with easy pace by the beautiful riverside of the Mekong River. In the centre of the town is the majestic park dotted with fountains and plants and showcasing the majestic monument of Independent with its intricately designed pagoda. It thrives with young couples, joggers, walkers, and beer drinkers.

In the evening, the lights of the glass-fronted Nagaworld, the casino owned by a Malaysian billionaire Chen Lep Keong, are inviting. With about 700 hotel rooms, 240 gaming tables and 1,600 electronic gaming machines, Nagaworld’s revenue is rumored to be close to the entire GDP of the country! Only foreign passport holders are legally allowed to gamble in the casino, but anyone will tell you that there are ways to trespass if a local is ready to pay extra.

“You can stand anywhere in the city and shout and scream against the Government. No one will touch you,” says the head of a public relation agency. “There is no atmosphere of fear that the Western press has tried to project,” she says.

Rithey Sear, Cambodia’s biggest business tycoon, who owns 1.5 billion dollar conglomerate, also says that things are not as bad as they are made to look.

“Look at the condition in Thailand and Vietnam. Compare to that, Cambodia is thousand times better. People can always aspire for more freedom, but I can vouch that no one is living here in terror.”

On why the CNRP was dissolved by a court that is seen widely compromised, Rithey says he would not try to speculate what happened. “The CNRP could have always gone into appeal, but they chose to flee. Any businessman like me, who wants the country to progresss, would crave for stability and peace. The election is the best opportunity for the people to express themselves. If they are fed up with the Government, they can really overthrow it even if that means a multi-party unstable rule. Who is preventing them as long as the polls are fair,” he asked.

Rithey has seen the year of Khmer rouge terror and the worst ever genocide in which close to 1.5 million Cambodians were butchered by the so-called revolutionary forces. “We have a history of conflict and violence that goes much before the times of Khmer Rouge. Somehow, every Cambodian fears instability and return of those violent days. That is why they are shy of investing and prefer to keep their money under the pillow. Cambodia needs stability more than anything,” he says.

Stability for people like Rithey means status quo. “Some people are always unhappy,” he says, “But look at the progress we made in the last 10 years. The number of poor people has come down to 13 per cent from 60 a decade ago. The GDP hovers around 7 per cent, and standard of living has vastly improved. “

Like any businessman who prefers to stand on the right side of any party in power, Rithey may have his own reason to dismiss allegations that Cambodia lived under an authoritarian regime. “If democracy means freedom to unleash anarchy then we don’t have that freedom,” he says. “Short of that you can do whatever you like.”

His views are backed by Andrew Tay, Director of Himawari, a five-star hotel by the Mekong River. “My occupancy rate is nearly 80 per cent, and the business is good. I shudder to think of instability and unrest,” he says.

Enjoying a chilled glass of beer with Andrew is Chheang Vanniarth, a well-known Rs think tank’ and scholar. He sounds a note of disagreement. “Of course, we need peace and stability. But there are growing concerns about inequality and justice delivery system,” says Chheang.

According to Chheang, the US and some other Western power have their own political agenda to see the back of Hun Sen, but there is difference between perception and reality. “The situation here is far better than in countries reeling under dictatorship. Unless you organise a violent political protest here, no one is going to ask you anything.”

Chheang says that the growing gap between rich and the poor could create disquiet in the future and decide the fate of the Hun Sen regime. He also feels that justice delivery system is highly compromised and press is far from free.

Chheang has a point. A newspaper which was critical of the regime was shut down last year, ostensibly on the pretext of tax evasion, and a Kem Ley, a prominent Cambodian political activist was shot dead in a coffee shop in July 2016. The court’s decision to disband the CNRP speaks volume about the independence. Of the judiciary.

And yet, there are no visible signs of unrest in the capital. The lurking fear of violence has forced people to look the other way even if they are forced to survive on limited quota of democracy.

“We have not forgotten the days of Khamer Rouge. I remember the killing and massacre. I was a mere 13 year old child in 1977 when they captured me. I played flutes and that saved my life. They tasked me to go around playing revolutionary songs on flute,” says Arn Chron Pond, the founder of Cambodian Living Arts, an organisation that thrives on donations from the US and Europe nations.

“I don’t care who comes to power, all I want that we should never go back to those violent times,” he says. “Those guns shouts and screams still haunt me. When I fear I will lose my sanity, I play the flute, I’ll cope up with anything but I’ll not want the country to slide into anarchy again.”

Hun Sen survives on the fear of the return of the past. He is bound to win the July 29 polls, but its legitimacy will always be questioned when there is hardly any Opposition to contest the polls.