Pol Pot’s death factory

Pol Pot’s death factory

With China backing the Cambodian leadership with ready cash, the tribunal on the Khmer Rouge genocide might never take off

Pranay Sharma Phnom Penh

Angkor Vat and Tuol Sleng are the two ‘must sees’ in Cambodia. Every year they attract more than a million people from outside. The beautiful temples of Angkor Vat, Bayon and Ta Bhrum that came up between 11th to 14th century AD represent the most glorious period of Cambodia's history. The Hindu and Buddhist kings who built these temples continue to impress visitors even today with their beautiful architecture and sculptures depicting stories from the Ramayana, Mahabharata or the Samudra-Manthan.

Large numbers also visit the Tuol Sleng high school building in the heart of capital Phnom Penh. In stark contrast to Angkor, Tuol Sleng represents the darkest and most traumatic years of Cambodia. The Maoist Khmer Rouge leaders who ruled Cambodia from 1975 to 1979 had turned the high school into a killing factory. Tens of thousands of Cambodians were brought here and butchered. Only 10 got out of it alive.

It is an irony that today India is but a small dot on the political radar of Cambodia, while China, the main-backer of the Khmer Rouge, looms the largest on that screen. China's influence on political leaders can be best exemplified by the inability of the Extraordinary Chambers of Courts in Cambodia, better known as the Khmer Rouge Tribunal, to take off. The tribunal was doomed since its inception. It was set up in 2001 after prolonged negotiations between the Cambodian government and the UN. It was meant to function jointly. In 2004, the Cambodian Parliament unanimously passed the resolution to set up the tribunal. Foreign legal experts were supposed to work in close cooperation with their Cambodian counterparts.

The tribunal has run into political rough weather. Earlier, the Cambodian government had to slow down the process; it has now demanded that foreign lawyers willing to work here will have to pay $5,000 as registration fee. The demand has outraged the International Lawyers Association and has led to a stalemate.

 Prime Minister Hun Sen has maintained that people of his country, including those born after 1979, have the right to know what happened to their family and friends during the four years of Khmer Rouge rule. Nearly three million Cambodians were murdered; others died of torture, disease or starvation. Its main architect, Pol Pot, died in 1998. Most senior leaders Khieu Samphan, Iang Sary and Nuon Chea, are still free. But there is a growing feeling that top Khmer Rouge leaders, who are frail and old, may die without being put on trial. Indeed, the steps taken by his government do not match the enthusiasm expressed by Hun Sen in his public utterances.

The mandate of the tribunal is specific. It is only supposed to deal with the four-year period when the Khmer Rouge was in power. It is going to deal with ‘senior leaders’ of the regime who were responsible for formulating policies and not every Cambodian who served under the Khmer Rouge. The mandate is on ‘individuals’ and not countries. It excludes alleged atrocities before or after the Khmer Rouge regime. However, there are fears that the tribunal might inadvertently open up the proverbial Pandora's Box: "too many skeletons" may tumble out once the trial starts.

The biggest worry haunts China. Beijing has denied any knowledge of the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge regime. But China was its main backer, helping it with financial, military and other logistical support to sustain its control over the country. It also had more than 15,000 advisors in Cambodia during the Khmer Rouge rule. There are few takers for China's claim that they were out of the loop and did not know what was happening in Pol Pot's killing fields.