The Vietnamese

With the election approaching, many of the ethnic Vietnamese in Phnom Penh are expressing increasing fear – fear of racial/ethnic violence directed against them by the opposition party and/or opposition party supporters.

I first started hearing concerns over this election from the Vietnamese a couple of months ago, just small talk in the cafes. They were saying that they felt this election had more potential for anti-Vietnamese problems than any election since 1998, but the reasoning seemed non-specific at the time. In an effort to get a better handle on these fears, over the last couple of weeks since the beginning of the campaign I’ve made it a point to have my afternoon coffee at cafes in the Phsar Kandal area of Phnom Penh, (where there is a large ethnic Vietnamese population,) hoping to overhear some scuttlebutt, perhaps talk to some local Vietnamese about their fears. I got a bit of both.

It has been said that the ethnic Vietnamese in Cambodia support the CPP (the ruling party of Prime Minister Hun Sen, the Cambodian Peoples Party) because the CPP will not deport the illegal Vietnamese immigrants from the country. But to listen to the Vietnamese talk about it, while this is certainly an element, perhaps a stronger element from their point of view is that the opposition parties have always represented potential discrimination and even ethnic violence against them.

In my couple of weeks listening to the Vietnamese talk about the election, rumors have swirled and grown and are getting thicker. Though not verified, there is tell of groups of intimidating young men stopping Vietnamese appearing people in the evenings, demanding to know “what number” (which party) they support. “Number 7” is said to be the safest answer. They tell of racial epithets yelled by passing CNRP supporters, of Vietnamese caught alone after dark receiving a beat down, of women soup and egg sellers having their wares overturned and smashed by groups of young men. In light of these rumors the Vietnamese offer safety and security advice to each other: Vietnamese should not go out after dark, be careful not to get caught alone even during the day, don’t challenge them, just say “7” and keep your head down. They are also making contingency plans of where to go should widespread violence erupt, exchanging phone numbers, determining whose house is most secure, where they should gather, how they can get there, etc.

None of this should come as a surprise to Cambodia watchers. This sort of anti-Vietnamese intimidation and violence is far from unprecedented. The Vietnamese are the Khmer’s ethnic Other, the first minority group onto which blame falls during times of political and social tension.

The relationship between Vietnam and Cambodia is complicated, and traditional ethnic antagonism is deeply intertwined with historical and political animosities which are not completely unjustified, but when things turn bad in Cambodia, it is often if not always the poor, powerless ethic Vietnamese that take the violent brunt of it. They were massacred in a nationalist fury under Lon Nol in the early 70s, and again by the Khmer Rouge, not only in the late 70s when the KR were in power, but through the 80s and right up into the mid 1990s. Racially provocative rhetoric has been part-and-parcel of every Cambodian election since 1993, with the Royalist and the Sam Rainsy party leading the way in this regard. In the pre-election period of 1998, ethnic Vietnamese were assaulted and murdered in the provinces. During the post-election opposition protests of 1998, when the anti-Vietnamese rhetoric became particularly heated, there was significant anti-Vietnamese violence in Phnom Penh, including the murders of a couple of Vietnamese women, innocent street sellers, by an angry mob right in front of the French Embassy.

The Royalists (FUNCINPEC), and now the opposition party, (formerly the Sam Rainsy Party [SRP,] now the Cambodian National Rescue Party [CNRP]), have always played to the anti-Vietnamese sentiments in their election rhetoric, employing a convoluted mix of anti-government (the current government is seen to be aligned with Vietnam,) anti-immigration, nationalistic, historical and racial rhetoric. In this election (2013) the opposition has altered the rhetoric slightly, reframing much of it in terms of land issues and jobs in a seeming attempt to make it more palatable to the western press, but the underlying racial appeal remains the same, just in slightly new garb. (And, unbelievably, the international press and English press in Cambodia was apparently fooled, or perhaps indifferent, even sometimes playing into it in their reporting.)

Now, with the election nigh, even those new clothes are beginning to fall away. There are increasing reports of anti-Vietnamese sentiments being yelled from opposition party parades. And the reports are coming not just from Vietnamese but Cambodian and western observers. At Sam Rainsy’s return to the country on July 19, I heard several anti-Vietnamese chants (though interestingly it went unreported in the local English language press.) And apparently Sam Rainsy, as he stumps through the country in this final week of the campaign, has ratcheted up the anti-Vietnamese rhetoric, helping to fuel some of his supporters’ anti-Vietnamese resolve.

Many ethnic Vietnamese in Phnom Penh are scared, and justifiably so – of the increasing anti-Vietnamese fervor of this last week, and even more of what may follow the election.

Also see:
Cambodia Daily: 'In CNRP Campaign, a Subtler approach to 'Vietnamese Issue'
Cambodia Daily: 'CPP the Clear Choice for Ethnic Vietnamese Voters'

Media access and The Cambodia Daily online in Khmer

I was recently exploring the back roads of Kampot province, rice paddies, more rice paddies and the occasional little hamlet, bumping down narrow dirt roads in my beat up old Camry. Great car for rural Cambodia, but she was suffering that day. The engine was getting ready to give up the ghost 20km out in the backcountry, overheating and burning off water. Trying to get back to the main road I had to stop every couple of kilometers to refill the radiator. Midday, temp gauge topping out again, I pulled off in a village at a thatch shack full of Khmer countryguys sipping tea and coffee and watching the community TV. A no-English situation. I asked for water for the car. One guy motioned to a cistern beside the shack and handed me a scooper. "Thank you very much." But the engine was too hot and needed a few minutes to cool. I pulled up a chair, ordered a black coffee and settled in.

The guys gave me a curious glance now and again, and finally one brave soul started asking me questions (in Khmer) - the usual - what's you name, how old are you, are you married, and finally, what are you doing here? I answered in Khmer, and they understood most of what I said, but when I tried explaining that I was out there writing a piece for a travel magazine, they just didn't seem to get it. Probably my fault. I was struggling with the word for 'magazine.' Frustration building and trying to simplify things, I switched to 'newspaper,' an easy and common word. "Ahhh, cassette, cassette, ko'ot traukah cassette" ('he works for a newspaper') one guy said, and everybody seemed satisfied and went back to watching TV.

Figuring the engine was now cool enough to take water, I fetched a scoop full from the cistern and went to remove the radiator cap, but it was too hot to touch. I rummaged in my car for a rag, found an old copy of the Phnom Penh Post and used it as hand protection to remove the radiator cap. Noticing what I was doing, one of the TV watchers announced "He works for the Phnom Penh Post!" This drew everybody's attention. I tried explaining that I don't work for the Post, but nobody was listening. To my surprise, one guy was exclaiming how great the Post was, talking excitedly, "Oooo, Borei Keila, Boeung Kak, I read it in the Phnom Penh Post. Post is very good, very good. Borei Keila not good, very bad. They steal! People's houses! Post very good!" and so on. Others grunted emphatic agreements.

I wasn't surprised that they thought that the Post was good, but that back here in the middle of rural nowheresville they knew it at all. And more, that they had learned about controversial land-grabbing issues from it. And even more, that they were greatly appreciative to have that information, presumably in contrast to the say-nothing local Cambodian press.

Most of the local Cambodian press, whether government controlled or cowered into self censorship, remains almost silent on controversial issues such as land-grabbing and the attendant protests. The English language press in Cambodia (The Cambodia Daily and The Phnom Penh Post) regularly reports on these controversial topics and is largely tolerated by the government, presumably because (even in its Khmer language version) it is thought to have very little penetration into the Khmer market, especially in the countryside where most of the population resides.

For at least the last decade and a half the government has shown sensitivity to foreign news about Cambodia (especially news with a critical/anti-government lean) reaching into the countryside. As early as the 1998 election period, back when rural folk got much or most of their news from radio, I heard regular reports of village chiefs patrolling at night, listening under the thin floored stilted houses for people tuned into VOA (broadcast in Khmer), and then threatening them to turn it off. More recently, in the last commune elections (2012), for the first time ever the government ordered VOA and RFA off-the-air on election day.

Sitting back in the rural countryside 20km from the nearest paved road, and seeing the impact The Phnom Penh Post was making back there, I wondered how long the tolerance of the English language press and its unrestrained reporting could last in Cambodia. On a related note, with Internet penetration expanding exponentially and Facebook users now likely exceeding a half-million in Cambodia, I have also wondered whether the ruling party's recent paranoid-seeming tactics in the run-up to the national elections may be due in part to their fear of losing grip on the media and the flow of information in Cambodia.

Which brings me to The Cambodia Daily. The Daily, in my opinion, like most of the English language press, leans anti-government, and has been hitting hard in the last couple of months as the election approaches, (not that there is anything wrong with that in a country that supposedly enjoys freedom of the press.) Last week, the Daily launched an online version of its publication in Khmer language, free of charge, including all of its election coverage and stories critical of the ruling party and government. This is a timely and, in my opinion, gutsy move on their part, especially during this very tense pre-election period and on Internet where the government feels its media control slipping. This is also a fine example for other in-country media that self-censors for fear of reprisal. Granted, it is easier for the Daily than the Cambodian press because it is run mostly by foreigners and has far less penetration in the Khmer market, but as demonstrated by the impact of the Post deep in the country, this latter part is changing.

It will be interesting to see what happens. If the online Khmer Cambodia Daily catches on, if it begins to penetrate deeply into the Khmer market, will it face temporary suspensions during sensitive times like VOA/RFA, or worse, threats and intimidation like the Khmer press? Or will it perhaps help lead the way to a freer press in Cambodia?

The Cambodia Daily - Khmer version

Cambodian Muslims and the Cham

Cambodia's Muslims seek justice for genocide
By Michelle Fitzpatrick (AFP)

CHRAING CHAMRES, Cambodia — Zakaria Bin Ahmad cannot forget the years of horror under the brutal Khmer Rouge when even praying was to risk death for Cambodia's persecuted minority Muslims.

Many others in his community did not survive the late 1970s reign of terror by the hardline communist regime, which executed Islamic scholars, destroyed mosques, forced Muslims to eat pork and forbade headscarves.

"People tried all kinds of ways to pray. Sometimes while they were driving an ox cart... sometimes in the jungle when we asked to use the toilet, and sometimes while we were washing," the 61-year-old recalled.

But mostly, he remembers people disappearing, never to be seen again.

"Many were killed," he said quietly in his modest home in the shadow of a modern blue-domed mosque, a source of pride for the town of Chraing Chamres, whose earlier place of worship was destroyed by the Khmer Rouge.

Cambodian Muslims, known as Cham, hope finally to see justice as the most senior surviving Khmer Rouge leaders stand trial for genocide at Cambodia's UN-backed court over the treatment of the ethnic and religious minority…

Point of detail…

When speaking loosely, it is comparatively easy to blur the distinction between Cambodian Muslims and the Cham, particularly when speaking of the exceptionally hard treatment the Cham received under the Khmer Rouge (1975-79.) In fact, most Cambodian Muslims are Cham and the persecution of the Cham under the KR included, in part, attacks on and the defiling of their Muslim faith. But to state (or strongly imply) that to be Cambodian Muslim is to be Cham (see bold above) is to focus the blur into an inaccuracy.

The Cham are an ethnic group descended from the people of Champa, an ancient kingdom formerly located in what is now central Vietnam. Champa's history can be traced into the early first millennium AD. By the end of the millennium Champa had become a traditional rival of the Angkorian Khmer Empire. Like their Khmer neighbors, the Cham were Hindu and Buddhist for more than 1000 years, converting to Islam only late in their history, in the 15th-18th centuries AD. The Kingdom of Champa was slowly diminished over the centuries by wars with the bordering Khmer Kingdom (Cambodia) and a southward expanding Vietnam, and was finally extinguished by the Vietnamese by the 18th century AD. During Champa's final couple of centuries, as they were whittled down by Vietnam, waves of Cham refugees fled into Cambodia where they received sanctuary. They exist to this day in Cambodia as a distinct ethnic group with their own language, religion and cultural practices, and tend to live concentrated in certain areas.

As such, the Cham are not just Cambodians that happen to be Muslims. For example, Khmer Cambodians that are Muslim are not Cham, but Khmer Muslims. The Khmers are the largest and the dominant ethic group in Cambodia (i.e. the ethnic group that is ordinarily associated with Cambodia, i.e. the land of the Khmer.) The Cham are, on the other hand, an ethnic minority in Cambodia, who happen to be, as a rule, Muslim. While most Cham in Cambodia are Cambodian Muslims, being a Cambodian Muslim does not not necessarily make one Cham.

This may seem a picayune if not pedantic point, but it is worth noting, if for no reason than to recall that the Cham have a deep and complex history, and a relationship with Cambodia and the Khmer that began long before their comparatively recent adoption of Islam, even well predating the advent of Islam. And further, to note that the reasons for the extra attention inflicted on the Cham by the Khmer Rouge are still a matter of debate - that the Cham may not have been targeted because they were Cambodian Muslims, or at least not wholly, but because they were Cham, a distinctive non-Khmer ethnic group, as the Khmer Rouge also targeted ethic Vietnamese. 

Also see:

Democratic Kampuchea’s Genocide of the Cham