ACCORD ( Paris )
Between War and Peace
Cambodia 1991-1998

 By David Ashley

The 1991 Paris agreements and the resulting UN intervention to implement them reduced and altered, but could not end the Cambodian conflict. To understand why, one must first comprehend the core issue which frustrated peace negotiations from 1986 until 1991 and which has continued to dog Cambodia: the inability of the factions to share state power.

The struggle for power, 1991-1993

In the late 1980s, as foreign involvement waned and the nationalistic and ideological aspects of the Cambodian war receded, the principal dynamic behind the conflict became the factional scramble for power. Cambodia was a nation with no traditions of sharing power and no institutions with which to limit it: one either had absolute power to use and abuse, or one was subject to those who did. Nor does Cambodian history provide any examples of governments peacefully giving up power: the violence with which opponents were traditionally treated, taken to gross extremes under Pol Pot, perhaps suggests why. Power - and only power - brought security, as it also did wealth and patronage.

But economic and military realities meant that prospective governments could not survive without international recognition and aid. So while the forms of the struggle between the factions varied during the 1980s and 1990s - military, diplomatic and political - the aims remained unchanged: power and legitimacy.

An absence of common ground

Each of the factions justified its pursuit of power, less on the needs of its followers or its plans for the future than on its past claims to legitimacy and the past crimes of others. This made it all the more difficult to find common ground between them. In particular, the aims of the two militarily strongest factions, the Cambodian People's Party (CPP) and the Khmer Rouge (officially known as the Party of Democratic Kampuchea, PDK), were diametrically opposed. The CPP hoped the peace process would legitimise the state structure arranged by the Vietnamese in 1979, known as the 'State of Cambodia' (SoC).

The Khmer Rouge hoped the peace process would dismantle the SoC regime and replace it with an administration made up of all four factions, thus returning to the Khmer Rouge a share of state power and legitimacy. Both still hoped to monopolise power in the long-term. The idea, floated from the early 1980s, of holding elections to decide who should have power and legitimacy failed to break the deadlock; after all, Cambodian elections had always been won by whoever organised them.

The CPP insisted that elections be held under the SoC and the Khmer Rouge insisted that elections be held under a quadripartite coalition. The CPP argued the SoC was the only bulwark against the 'return of the genocidal Pol Pot regime'. The Khmer Rouge argued that the SoC was the creation and creature of an illegal Vietnamese occupation and that, with it in power, free elections were impossible.

The position of the two smaller factions, Prince Ranariddh's FUNCINPEC and Son Sann's KPLNF, was more flexible. Although allied to the Khmer Rouge before the peace agreement on nationalist grounds, they professed to desire peace and democracy. With the weakest armies, they had a vested interest in promoting peaceful competition. Since they, unlike the 'former' communist factions, had no hope of capturing the whole state, they aimed for a share of government posts. In the eyes of the Khmer Rouge and CPP, they were corrupt opportunists and potential allies rather than serious opponents.

Dilemmas of implementation

In retrospect, it was inevitable that the UN's attempt to implement the Paris agreements would run into difficulties. The objectives of the CPP and the Khmer Rouge remained incompatible: both only signed the accord under strong international pressure and in the hope that they could twist its ambiguities to their advantage. The CPP hoped that the UN Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC) and the Supreme National Council (SNC) - the quadripartite body set up to represent Cambodia's sovereignty and promote reconciliation - would be toothless bodies whose presence would simply legitimise the SoC structure.

The Khmer Rouge hoped that a strong UNTAC and SNC would significantly weaken the SoC's control over the country. They could not both be right. In the event, the problems arrived far sooner than UNTAC itself, which was charged with overseeing implementation of the Paris agreements and was only fully deployed in mid-1992. The agreements, signed on 23 October 1991, unleashed a rapid series of events which included a short-lived alliance between the CPP and FUNCINPEC (see box): the near-lynching of Khmer Rouge president, Khieu Samphan, by a CPP-organised mob on his arrival in Phnom Penh and the crushing of student demonstrations against SoC corruption. Meanwhile, UNTAC's arrival was delayed due to financial and bureaucratic hold-ups and the US Congress' continued to object to Khmer Rouge involvement.

From Pol Pot 's perspective, an American plot was being hatched to divert the quadripartite Paris agreements into a bipartite (CPP-FUNCINPEC) accord, through which western aid would sustain the SoC structures and fund them to destroy the Khmer Rouge. Subsequent events over 1992 and 1993 - particularly UNTAC's failure to control the SoC structure and the creation of a CPP-FUNCINPEC coalition government after the elections - only confirmed Pol Pot in his analysis. Beginning in January 1992, the Khmer Rouge thus grew increasingly sceptical of the peace process: it renounced the ceasefire, refused to disarm, ended cooperation with UNTAC, boycotted the elections and eventually launched an unsuccessful military campaign to derail the elections. But the Khmer Rouge's actions - which it justified by UNTAC's alleged refusal to implement the agreements' provisions on verifying withdrawal of Vietnamese forces and controlling the SoC structure - ironically served to make implementation harder and the CPP stronger.

First, the Khmer Rouge's renunciation of the ceasefire meant that the demobilisation of the other factions was suspended. All sides ended up retaining most of their men and weapons in the post-UNTAC era. This particularly favoured the CPP whose army was easily the largest. The continued Khmer Rouge attacks also made it easier - politically and practically - for the CPP to use violence against the 'opposition' parties as they sought to organise within SoC-controlled areas. Some 100 members of FUNCINPEC and the Buddhist Liberal Democratic Party (BLDP, the principal successor to the KPLNF) were killed in CPP-organised violence in 1992-93.

Second, given the continuing fighting, the Supreme National Council (SNC) failed to become a substantive institution or build reconciliation between the factions which - despite the gradual proliferation of alternative political parties, newspapers and non-governmental organisations - remained the key political players. This failure of reconciliation was not surprising. The factional leaders were never truly committed to burying their differences which instead were accentuated and even deepened by the process of electoral competition.

Third, the de facto withdrawal of the Khmer Rouge from the peace process weakened UNTAC's ability to take action against the CPP. UNTAC did not have the military capacity or international backing to compel the Khmer Rouge to abide by the agreements; the Security Council contented itself with imposing token trade sanctions. But this also meant that UNTAC could do even less against the CPP's similarly systematic, but significantly less gross violations. Moreover, once the UN had invested its resources and credibility in Cambodia, it needed the CPP more than the other way around. With the Khmer Rouge out, UNTAC needed the remaining factions in order for there to be a peace process at all, in particular the CPP which controlled almost all of the territory on which UNTAC was deployed.

Against this background, it was impossible for the UN to implement its mandate to ensure a 'neutral political environment' for the elections. The CPP maintained its tight control of the bureaucracy, army, police, media and judiciary and used them systematically to support its electoral campaign. FUNCINPEC and the KPLNF were little different in the much smaller zones along the Thai-Cambodian border which they administered. Although aware of this, the UN lacked the margin for manoeuvre and the political backing of member countries to do much about it. The end-result was that almost nothing was done to remove key state structures from factional domination. For the same reasons, despite gathering evidence of widespread human rights abuses, UNTAC could not penetrate the wall of official impunity.

UNTAC did have major successes, particularly where it could do things itself - such as repatriating 350,000 refugees, promoting human rights awareness and organising the elections. In the longer perspective, the mere presence of 22,000 well-paid UN personnel throughout Cambodia greatly accelerated the fledgling process of economic and political liberalisation. But UNTAC's mandate, organisation and resources were designed for a peacekeeping rather than a peaceimplementation operation: where the factions refused to implement their commitments, UNTAC ultimately decided it could not force them into compliance.

The May 1993 elections

The Paris agreements foresaw the elections taking place in a neutral, peaceful, free environment. By May 1993, despite admitting such an environment did not exist, the UN insisted on holding the elections on schedule. FUNCINPEC and the BLDP, believing the CPP enjoyed a huge advantage, considered a boycott but were dissuaded by strong international pressure and the relatively peaceful and successful character of their final month of campaigning.

The gamble paid off. In a festive atmosphere, the hitherto silent Cambodian masses withstood the intimidation of both the Khmer Rouge and the CPP. Despite Khmer Rouge efforts to coerce people into joining its boycott of the elections, 89% of those registered turned out to vote. And despite the CPP's liberal use of violence and the SoC structures, it lost. Prince Ranariddh's FUNCINPEC won 58 out of 120 seats in the new assembly with pledges to return Sihanouk to power, forging peace with the Khmer Rouge and ending corruption and Vietnamese immigration. FUNCINPEC's long-time ally, the BLDP, gained 10 seats. The CPP, whose campaign focused on the need to fight the Khmer Rouge militarily and on accusations that FUNCINPEC and the BLDP were Pol Pot stooges, won 51 seats. Only one seat went to any of the 17 other parties.

Unfortunately, UNTAC's success in promoting and harnessing this overwhelming enthusiasm for democracy proved less important than its inability to bring about the institutions and environment necessary for a democratic transition. The CPP refused to accept the results and, by means of the gun, forced its way into the dominant position in a coalition government with FUNCINPEC (see box).

Notwithstanding the dubious circumstances of the coalition's creation and the continuing Khmer Rouge insurgency, the international community declared the elections and UNTAC a great success. After all, a principal aim of the peace process had been an internationally recognisable government, and now there was one which not only controlled most of the country but could also claim popular legitimacy. With much relief, the international community declared the Cambodian conflict over.

The power-sharing experiment, 1993-1996

Power-sharing as peacekeeping

Given its origins, the coalition was never simply a political deal to gain a parliamentary majority. Rather it was the key element in an unwritten power-sharing arrangement which kept the peace between the CPP and FUNCINPEC for three years. This was evident from two of the most unusual features of the coalition:

First, the power-sharing arrangement embraced not only the cabinet but the entire state. This reflected the fact that CPP and FUNCINPEC remained factions - with their own armies, police, media and bureaucrats - rather than ordinary political parties. While the CPP-controlled institutions and personnel instantaneously became those of the Royal Government, FUNCINPEC (and to a lesser extent the BLDP) integrated large numbers of existing and newly-recruited personnel into the already bloated SoC civilian and military apparatus.

Second, the two parties were formally equal, as symbolised by having co-premiers with equal power and status. Not only the government but virtually every state body - from police commissariats to ministerial departments - had the same dual-command structure. Whether they had a head from the CPP and a deputy head from FUNCINPEC, or vice-versa, or two equal heads in the case of sensitive departments like the ministries of interior and defence, each was supposed to function on the principle of 'consensus' (i.e. all decisions were to be mutually agreed by both parties). But equality had its limits: the CPP retained a crucial advantage for it successfully defended its monopoly over the courts and sub-provincial authorities whilst the police, gendarmerie and army were all headed by CPP nominees.

This consensus-based power-sharing structure naturally gave the CPP a veto over all decisions of the new government. For the system to work at all Ranariddh had to make significant concessions. He thus acquiesced in fighting and outlawing the Khmer Rouge, sidelining his father - who spent most of the post-election years in Beijing in poor health and spirits - and generally making no attempt to exert FUNCINPEC's parliamentary strength or implement his electoral pledges. Instead, Ranariddh concentrated on such common ground as existed with his co-premier: promoting foreign relations, economic development and their own power and wealth. For nearly three years, the two men cooperated surprisingly well on a programme of economic liberalism and political conservatism.

The decline of the state

State power is both a means and an end in the Cambodian conflict. Without access to either state power or foreign assistance, the Khmer Rouge weakened significantly after 1993. By contrast, the CPP and FUNCINPEC, by sharing power as Cambodia opened up to international trade and investment, developed new sources of revenue independent of their former foreign patrons. Whilst the state remained reliant on foreign aid to fight the Khmer Rouge and to barely maintain Cambodia's appalling social services, the two parties grew rich on the spoils of office.

The simultaneous weakening of the state and strengthening of the parties was not restricted to finance. Instead of neutralising a 'One Party-State', power-sharing Cambodian-style created two separate 'Party-States', in effect two parallel structures of authority - one belonging to the CPP, the other to FUNCINPEC. Rather than working with their immediate counterpart from the other party, officials from the highest level down preferred to use their party clients and colleagues to conduct their business. Orders, loyalty and money flowed through these channels rather than the formal state apparatus. Hierarchical patron-client networks, a constant in Cambodian history, expanded and subsumed the state.

One result was that, instead of much-needed reform, the state continued to grow in size and weaken in effectiveness despite massive foreign aid. Within the context of uncontrolled liberalisation and easy access to weapons, the state's weakness fostered a lawless society in which not only non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and investors, but also armed criminals and drug traffickers operated freely.

The growth of the parallel structures of authority, moreover, affected power relations within the two parties. The dual structures were ultimately answerable to the co-premiers and thus significantly bolstered their personal authority and wealth. Until early 1996 - besides suppressing their mutual opponents in the Khmer Rouge, the press and parliament - each Prime Minister used the other's support to attack opponents within his own political party.

In the case of FUNCINPEC, Ranariddh used Hun Sen's backing to act against internal critics, notably the Finance Minister Sam Rainsy and the Foreign Minister Prince Sirivudh. Sam Rainsy was sacked and later expelled from parliament for his trenchant criticisms of the co-premiers. Sirivudh resigned in sympathy with Rainsy but was arrested in December 1995 on the trumped-up charge of plotting to murder Hun Sen. Although Hun Sen accepted the King's request to exile Sirivudh, he was sentenced to 20 years and Hun Sen vehemently opposed any plan to allow him to return.

The arrest of Sirivudh, the FUNCINPEC Secretary General and the King's half-brother, was the clearest evidence yet of how Hun Sen was using Ranariddh's weakness as co-premier to undermine FUNCINPEC and humiliate the royal family. It also signalled another step in Hun Sen's inexorable rise. During his time as SoC premier from 1985 to 1993, Hun Sen had always had to compete for influence within the CPP's collective leadership. After 1993, he used Ranariddh's support to successfully expand his own scope for action. Using the phenomenal financial resources he accumulated as co-premier, Hun Sen built a formidable personal power-base. This included a 1,500-man bodyguard and a media empire embracing several radio and television stations and over 20 newspapers.

Hun Sen's rise did not go unchallenged. Anti-Hun Sen resentment within the CPP lay behind a failed coup by elements within the Interior Ministry in July 1994 and remained a thorn in his side thereafter. Chea Sim, the CPP President, and his brother-in-law, Sar Kheng, co-Minister of Interior, disapproved of Hun Sen's aggressive tendencies and his inclination to act without consultation. But while they and many others within the CPP believed that Hun Sen was unnecessarily provoking FUNCINPEC, by 1996 they no longer had the power to restrain him.

Collapse of the coalition, 1996-1997

Cambodia's much-vaunted political stability foundered on two threats to the power-sharing arrangements in early 1996, one actual and one potential. The actual threat lay in the imbalance within the coalition as Hun Sen increasingly flexed his muscles vis-a-vis Ranariddh. The potential threat lay in the commune elections scheduled for 1997 (but eventually cancelled) and forthcoming parliamentary elections in 1998, which evoked the same hopes and fears as in 1993. Once again, these elections would bear the burden of deciding the winner and loser among armed adversaries in a country where there was no neutral state, a weak rule of law and where violence remained part of the political process.

Cambodia's stability was so fragile because it had not been built on a democratic process which could incorporate change and debate: indeed there had been little progress after 1993 in developing the institutions, fora and discourse essential for substantive political debate in Cambodia. Instead, stability rested on the denial of any political differences and the relationship between two all-powerful but impetuous men. When Hun Sen's provocations shattered that illusion, close cooperation turned into mortal enmity and the Cambodian conflict returned to centre stage.

Alliance building through 'national reconciliation'

The period from April 1996 to July 1997 was one of ever-increasing tension. Although the coalition continued on paper, in practice the state was split in two: it was a simple process for the dual structures to follow their leaders and move from coexistence to confrontation. In preparing for the inevitable showdown, whether it came in elections or on the battlefield, both parties competed for the allegiance of each and every political actor, from the most minor newspaper to the Khmer Rouge. On offer were money, positions and legal protection: any wrongdoing, from corruption to genocide, was considered subordinate to the need to build up one's party and personal networks.

Both parties used the label of 'national reconciliation' to cover their alliance building. For Ranariddh, 'national reconciliation' meant returning to the populist, anti-Vietnamese rhetoric of pre-1993 and re-embracing his former allies, including Rainsy, Son Sann and Khieu Samphan. For Hun Sen, 'national reconciliation' meant using his greater wealth and power to exploit internal differences within Ranariddh's 'National United Front' with the aim of bringing as many people over to his side as possible.

With the reduced relevance of post-1979 ideological stereotypes and the greater importance of money politics, alliance building became less predictable and more dynamic. Beginning in mid-1996, both Ranariddh and Hun Sen initiated tentative contacts with segments of the Khmer Rouge. Each offered attractive terms - continued control of armies, resources and territory; amnesties; senior military or provincial positions - beyond anything previously on the negotiating table.

This competition for its allegiance was the final straw which broke the Khmer Rouge's back (see box below). In August 1996 a faction associated with Ieng Sary, Pol Pot's Deputy Prime Minister for Foreign Affairs between 1975 and 1978, broke away. In the name of 'national reconciliation' Ieng Sary was amnestied by the government, and his movement, which controlled two major strongholds, cleverly maintained its autonomy. The revolt meanwhile spread rapidly to all of the Khmer Rouge in western Cambodia and other Khmer Rouge elements ended up joining both parties.

The July 1997 coup

It was always likely that the stand-off between the co-premiers would end in violence. Hun Sen had already shown a willingness to revert to the threat and actuality of force. The worst single act of political violence was a March 1997 grenade attack against a Sam Rainsy-led demonstration outside the parliament, which left at least 16 people dead. According to a UN investigation, the attack was organised with the complicity of Hun Sen's bodyguard.

Any political solution - including new elections - depended on cooperation between Hun Sen and Prince Ranariddh, the absence of which was the cause of the stand-off. But the passive, disinterested attitude of the international community further contributed to the stalemate. The nations which had worked so hard to bring peace failed to capitalise on the leverage that the Paris agreements and their foreign aid gave them. All they offered were unco-ordinated and toothless appeals to the goodwill of Cambodia's leaders who, all evidence suggested, had none.

Confident that the outside world would take no action provided the façade of parliamentary democracy and coalition government was maintained, Hun Sen took action to undermine Ranariddh's position, first by fostering a revolt among FUNCINPEC members of parliament and, when that failed, by taking military action. Beginning on 2 July 1997, his forces disarmed FUNCINPEC-aligned troops first around, and then within Phnom Penh itself. The fighting in the capital, over the weekend of 5-6 July, left an estimated 100 civilians dead. The public aim of this unilateral military action was to arrest and replace Ranariddh.

The pretext centred on allegations that Ranariddh had brought thousands of Khmer Rouge soldiers into Phnom Penh in a plot to bring back Pol Pot's 'genocidal regime'. Although Ranariddh had indeed been negotiating with the Khmer Rouge remnants immediately before the coup, Hun Sen's allegations were baseless: no hardline Khmer Rouge were found among FUNCINPEC's forces in Phnom Penh and former Khmer Rouge from western Cambodia were by then at least as prominent among Hun Sen's forces as they were in Ranariddh's.

Post-coup, pre-election

Having gained power, Hun Sen still needed to secure legitimacy. Instead of suppressing all opposition, Hun Sen chose his targets carefully: his real aim, besides dismissing Ranariddh, was to demolish FUNCINPEC's parallel military and bureaucratic structures while retaining the façade of the coalition. In the immediate aftermath of the coup, senior figures in the FUNCINPEC military and police were captured and executed. The remaining FUNCINPEC forces proved no match for the larger and better-equipped CPP forces.

Hun Sen moved equally quickly to consolidate his political authority. Using the two-thirds majority in parliament which he now obtained through the co-option and intimidation of several FUNCINPEC MPs, Hun Sen had Ranariddh replaced as first Prime Minister by the politically malleable Foreign Minister, Ung Huot. This effectively meant that the FUNCINPEC structure came under Hun Sen's control. Hun Sen also used his new parliamentary majority to cement his control over the judiciary: the two highest constitutional bodies, the Supreme Council of the Magistracy and the Constitutional Council, were both formed with clear CPP majorities (as was the National Election Committee the body responsible for organising the 1998 parliamentary election).

Although the international response to Hun Sen's actions was muted, he did suffer two major diplomatic setbacks: ASEAN suspended Cambodia's entry and the country's UN seat was left vacant, at Washington's insistence. Equally important, Cambodia's economy was simultaneously hit by the flight of investors after the fighting, the suspension of aid by the US, Germany, IMF and World Bank, and the regional financial meltdown. For both political and economic reasons, therefore, Hun Sen intensified his close ties with China. He also sought to ensure that preparations for parliamentary elections were sufficiently credible for the international community to bankroll the process and recognise the results. Once again, the focus of the Cambodian conflict shifted temporarily from the bullet to the ballot.

Diplomatic Pragmatism

ASEAN's response to the July 1997 coup

By Sorpong Peou

The July 1997 overthrow of Prince Norodom Ranariddh by co-Prime Minister Hun Sen came as little surprise to the members of the international community who had helped bring about the 1991 Paris agreements. But their political disengagement from Cambodia following the 1993 UN-organised elections had left them with few easy options for responding to renewed tensions and, for most of them, it was no longer a priority.

The members of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), on the other hand, remained acutely aware of the threat Cambodia's internal problems posed to their security. Plans underway at the time to integrate Cambodia into ASEAN were seen as key to bolstering the country's fledgling peace and regional stability. While it was logical that ASEAN take the lead in managing the crisis which quickly spread to the western provinces bordering Thailand, it soon became apparent that it was ill-equipped to decisively influence events alone.

ASEAN and conflict containment

Since its inception in 1967, ASEAN has been extremely successful at reducing tensions and averting military confrontation between member states despite sharply diverging interests on many matters. ASEAN's collective political coherence, even in the absence of military strength, was also a key factor in preventing it from becoming embroiled in the Vietnam War during the 1970s. Yet ASEAN has always been ill-equipped to prevent or resolve conflicts in non-member states. The alliance was, after all, designed to further the interests of its members and its cohesion is dependent on strict adherence to principles of 'non-interference' (see box).

The constraints this poses on ASEAN were illustrated when Vietnam invaded Cambodia in 1979 to drive the Khmer Rouge from power. Fighting escalated in Cambodia in the early 1980s between the tripartite 'resistance' movement comprising the Khmer Rouge and two non-communist factions - FUNCINPEC and the KPLNF - and the Vietnamese-backed Phnom Penh regime. Despite the threat this posed to regional stability, ASEAN was able to do little but contain the conflict. The group lacked the collective military capability to expel Vietnam from Cambodia and - being perceived by Vietnam as too closely linked to its former enemy the US - was not in a position to play a mediatory role either.

Differences within the grouping on how to respond to Vietnam's occupation of Cambodia led some ASEAN members to act individually. For example, Indonesia was more inclined to accept Vietnam's pre-eminence in 'Indochina' (comprising the former French colonies of Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam) which it saw as a strategic check on China's ambitions in the region. Thailand, on the other hand, felt threatened by Vietnam's presence on its borders and, along with Singapore, channelled US and Chinese military assistance to the resistance factions. All ASEAN member states nonetheless agreed on the need to use diplomacy to keep the conflict on the international agenda and to bring pressure to bear on Vietnam to withdraw from Cambodia.

With ASEAN's backing, the resistance factions occupied Cambodia's UN seat under the name of the Coalition Government of Democratic Kampuchea (CGDK) and Cambodia was further isolated internationally. While this strategy prevented the Vietnamese-backed regime from consolidating power in Cambodia, it was only under intense pressure from the permanent five members of the Security Council, main sponsors of the Khmer factions, that the war was brought to an end. During the peace process, ASEAN countries played a significant role in promoting dialogue between the factions by hosting a a range of peace conferences in both Indonesia and Thailand. Moreover, each of the ASEAN countries contributed troops to the UN peacekeeping mission which implemented the 1991 Paris agreements.

However, when Cambodia regained its full sovereignty after 1993, the ability of ASEAN, like most members of the international community, to influence political events in Cambodia was greatly reduced. This was all the more so because ASEAN did not enjoy much economic leverage over the new government, given the very small amounts of reconstruction assistance its countries were providing. At the same time, however, optimism regarding prospects for a lasting peace in Cambodia were high, and what preoccupied ASEAN most after 1993 was securing Cambodia's membership. This would realise its goal of creating 'one Southeast Asia' with both the tangible and symbolic benefits this entailed for a common identity, market and security.

Having Cambodia in, instead of out - it was thought - would also allow ASEAN to help manage any problems which might eventually arise. The promise of membership could thus be used as an incentive to bring some influence to bear on events in the country. Accordingly, Cambodia was granted 'observer status' in 1994 and ASEAN countries followed this up by providing technical assistance to hasten and facilitate the transition to full membership. Yet when Cambodia's political situation began to deteriorate in early 1996, threatening the country's accession to membership and the stability of ASEAN as a whole, it could do little but make toothless appeals for peace to Cambodia's bickering leaders.

In May 1996, Malaysian Foreign Minister, Abdullah Badawi, warned the co-Prime Ministers against an escalation of violence which would delay Cambodia's entry into ASEAN. This was followed with a strong message from Singaporean Prime Minister Goh Chok who, during a November trip to Phnom Penh, stressed the link between political stability and increased foreign investment. Tensions continued to mount, however, and ASEAN's decision in early 1997 to admit Cambodia, along with Myanmar and Laos, at its forthcoming 23 July annual meeting failed to prevent Hun Sen from moving against his coalition partner on 6 July.

Some days later, as fighting between forces loyal to the two Prime Ministers spread into Cambodia's western provinces bordering Thailand, Deputy Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim of Malaysia acknowledged that ASEAN's 'non-involvement in the reconstruction of Cambodia contributed to the deterioration and final collapse of national reconciliation'. For the first time the idea of a more 'constructive intervention' in Cambodia's affairs involving diplomatic mediation was openly advocated. While it was clear that ASEAN had a real interest in responding pro-actively to Cambodia's political problems, this meant breaking precedent with its hallowed principle of 'non-interference'.

Constructive engagement

A few days after Prince Ranariddh's overthrow at a 10 July meeting of ASEAN Foreign Ministers in Malaysia, a firm, though far from punitive, position was adopted. The issued statement reaffirmed a joint commitment to the principle of non-interference in the internal affairs of other states, but considered Hun Sen's use of force 'unfortunate'. It was also announced that Cambodia's admission into ASEAN would be delayed 'until a later date' and that Prince Ranariddh would continue to be recognised as the 'first' Prime Minister of Cambodia. This announcement was backed up by the United States' decison to suspend its aid to Cambodia for a period of 30 days as well as sanctions imposed by other countries.

Consensus emerged at the summit of the Asian Regional Forum (ARF) which followed shortly afterwards, bringing together ASEAN countries and dialogue partners including the US, Japan, Russia, China and the European Union, that ASEAN should take the lead in addressing the crisis. The dilemmas were evident: to insist on returning Prince Ranariddh to power seemed unrealistic, and would restore the unwieldy coalition government which many countries felt had led to the crisis in the first place. At the same time, a weak reaction would call into question the international community's stated commitment to the Paris agreements and their support for Cambodia's fledgling democracy.

Instead, a strong appeal was made to Hun Sen to adhere to the Paris agreements and the Constitution and ensure that the elections scheduled for May 1998 took place. In the meantime, a 'troika' of three Foreign Ministers (Ali Alatas of Indonesia, Prachuab Chaiyasan of Thailand, and Domingo Siazon of the Philippines) was formed to define a mediatory role and push for a peaceful resolution to the crisis. With King Sihanouk's blessing, the ASEAN troika arrived in Phnom Penh on 19 July to talk with Hun Sen for the first time. The meeting accomplished little, however, with Hun Sen demanding that ASEAN either admit 'his' country by 23 July or 'forget it for the next five or 20 years'.

Hun Sen eventually accepted ASEAN's mediatory role on condition that it refrain from interfering in Cambodia's 'internal affairs' and respect a role of strict neutrality. By the end of July, however, Hun Sen had pressured the National Assembly to revoke Prince Ranariddh's parliamentary immunity. This would allow the Prince to be charged with the 'crimes' of illegally importing arms and colluding with the Khmer Rouge - Hun Sen's stated justifications for overthrowing Ranariddh in the first place. Ung Huot, a former Ranariddh minister, was then appointed the new 'first' Prime Minister in order to maintain the illusion that the coalition government was still intact.

At a second meeting between the troika and Hun Sen on 3 August, Hun Sen again criticised ASEAN for interfering in Cambodia's internal affairs. In response to requests that Ranariddh be allowed to return to Cambodia, Hun Sen would henceforth argue that the problem of Prince Ranariddh was a 'legal' one, not a political one, and demand that the Prince cease his armed resistance and face trial for his crimes. While ASEAN, for its part, continued to maintain that there would be no change in Cambodia's 'observer' status within ASEAN until political stability had been achieved, by late August it had stopped raising the issue of who was Cambodia's legal 'first' Prime Minister.

As Malaysian Foreign Minister Abdulla put it: "To us, the question of recognition no longer arises. Our principle is that we have to deal with whichever government is in Phnom Penh". This change of heart was indicative of ASEAN's weakening ability to influence events in Cambodia and Hun Sen's increasing consolidation of power. The remaining fighters loyal to Prince Ranariddh were by then boxed in at O'Smach, their last stronghold on the Thai border, while a number of FUNCINPEC deputies and ministers had made a pragmatic decision to return from exile and work with Hun Sen. Moreover, at the end of October, Cambodia's head of state - King Sihanouk - abruptly departed for China when Hun Sen rebuffed his efforts to mediate in the crisis.

Hun Sen's strengthening position at home, however, did not obviate the need for him to regain some form of international legitimacy which only the elections scheduled for May 1998 could provide. ASEAN declared that it would not grant Cambodia membership until after the elections had taken place and also supported a UN decision to leave Cambodia's seat vacant until such a time. This struck a real blow to Hun Sen. His heavy dependence on international funding to organise credible elections thus opened the way for Cambodia's major donors to become more actively involved in finding a solution to the impasse.

The Japanese initiative

Building on a growing international consensus for the need to link funding for elections to Prince Ranariddh's return, Japan, Cambodia's largest donor, advanced the so-called 'Four Pillars' peace plan in January 1998. It called for a ceasefire between troops loyal to the two sides, for Prince Ranariddh to distance himself from the Khmer Rouge and reintegrate his forces into the Royal Cambodian Air Forces, and for him to be tried and amnestied of all crimes. The peace plan would thus satisfy Hun Sen's demand to try Prince Ranariddh for his alleged crimes while allowing the Prince to return to Cambodia and contest the elections, by now delayed until July.

On 15 February, the ASEAN troika endorsed the Japanese plan at a consultative meeting of the 'Friends of Cambodia', an informal diplomatic group of countries involved in the Paris agreements. The group included Australia, Canada, China, the European Union, Japan, Russia and the United States; countries whose political and financial clout would underpin the peace plan's effectiveness. Hun Sen immediately and unconditionally accepted the Japanese proposals. Ranariddh initially rejected them, arguing that his alliance with the Khmer Rouge was 'informal' and protesting his innocence of any significant wrongdoing, but later accepted the peace plan.

The overriding objective of the international peace plan was to ensure Prince Ranariddh's return to Cambodia. The questions of whether there was any legal justification for a trial and whether the Prince would be tried fairly were not addressed. In two separate 'show trials' which took place in Phnom Penh in March, Prince Ranariddh was found guilty in absentia of importing arms illegally into the country and colluding with the Khmer Rouge. He was sentenced to 35 years in prison and fined US $54 million. Then, in line with the peace plan, King Sihanouk granted his son an amnesty in response to a request from Hun Sen, thus opening the way for the Prince's return to Cambodia on 30 March.

The Japanese peace plan revived flagging international support for the elections, though it had required few concessions from Hun Sen. He still maintained full control over the state and the electoral machinery while the Prince's party, FUNCINPEC, and the other opposition parties were split and in disarray. In the run-up to the July vote the international community stressed to Hun Sen the importance of creating a 'neutral political environment' so that the elections would be free, fair and credible. As main funders of the elections, neither Japan nor the European Union were willing to withhold their assistance when it became evident that such an environment was not emerging.

Limited options

Many countries - including most members of ASEAN - felt strongly that Hun Sen offered Cambodia badly needed stability at the time. On balance, it was argued that flawed elections were better than no elections at all and there were few alternatives to address the crisis. Despite the fact that Hun Sen's victory was secured under the shadow of widespread allegations of fraud, ASEAN and other countries placed immense pressure on opposition leaders Prince Ranariddh and Sam Rainsy to form a coalition government with him. This would grant Cambodia international 'legitimacy' again and open the way for it to become a full member of ASEAN.

Even once Cambodia becomes a member, ASEAN will still face the same dilemmas as it tries to influence the country's internal affairs. In reality, no member is yet prepared to sanction the surrender of sovereignty that a more interventionist approach would entail, a move which might very well prove terminal to the regional grouping. In the absence of political consensus or the joint capacity to exercise economic leverage, ASEAN's crisis management role will remain limited to containing the worst effects of Cambodia's political crises until more viable solutions can be found.

Picture caption: Rebuffed by Hun Sen: the ASEAN 'troika's' attempt to mediate following the July coup. From left to right: Domingo Siazon of the Philippines, Ali Alatas of Indonesia and Prachuab Chaiyasan of Thailand. Source: David van der Veen.

Cambodia's Agonising Quest

Political progress amidst institutional backwardness

By Lao Mong Hay

Since independence in 1953, Cambodia has been ruled by a diverse array of governments which have successively claimed to be monarchist, republican, revolutionary, socialist and, most recently, democratic in nature. The political orientations of these governments have varied widely, as has the impact of their policies on the fortunes of Cambodians. Despite these seeming shifts, a more consistent aspect of Cambodia's political life has been the retention of power in the hands of elites. The provisions made, in the better of Cambodia's first five constitutions, to safeguard citizens' rights have never given rise to effective legal checks on the use of power.

In theory, Cambodia's 1993 Constitution, based on liberal democratic principles, goes further than preceding ones in preventing the abuse of power. But the system of 'checks and balances' it provides for is sharply at odds with Cambodia's deeply conservative political culture and its authoritarian underpinnings. While politics in Cambodia today are in some ways more open, pluralist and accountable than ever before, at the same time they have never been so violent or corrupt. Public awareness regarding the functioning of democracy has surged in recent years, yet Cambodians still face an uphill struggle to have their Constitution respected as the supreme law of the land.

Rapid social change

At the time of the 1991 Paris agreements, Cambodia had been closed to the outside world for a period of almost two decades. With the arrival of the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC), charged with implementing the agreements, Cambodia was opened up to a world experiencing rapid economic growth, a dramatic revolution in information technology, and the seeming triumph of democracy over communism. The Paris agreements envisaged that integrating Cambodians into this radically different, 'free' world would alert them to their fundamental rights and freedoms and help consolidate the country's fledgling peace.

Under the watchful and protective eye of UNTAC, Cambodians created or joined political parties, and many more attended political rallies. In the May 1993 elections Cambodians voted en masse, the majority of them calling for a new government and an end to their long war. While Cambodians were still perhaps unclear about the exact mechanism by which their votes would translate into political change, they were more hopeful than at any time in recent memory that the changes which lay ahead would be positive.

In the years following UNTAC's departure, many Cambodians came to enjoy the benefits of the information revolution. The local media played an important role in informing and mobilising public opinion, as did local NGOs which provided thought-provoking criticisms of government policies and offered alternatives for the public to consider. As a consequence, Cambodians not only became more aware of events and developments in their country and the wider world, but also began to have opinions on them. During this period, many Cambodians actively followed parliamentary debates and listened to political speeches.

The people began to notice that their leaders, while seeking to cultivate their support, were also increasingly dependent on it to stay in power. While UNTAC had enabled this initial political awakening to take place, Cambodians were subsequently emboldened to seek to influence government policy. After 1993, growing numbers of Cambodians demonstrated for better conditions in the factories where they worked, submitted complaints to the parliamentary Human Rights Commission and protested in front of the National Assembly to demand political reforms. Cambodian society became more dynamic and was moving ahead rapidly, though too fast for some.

The March 1997 grenade attack in front of the National Assembly which killed 16 demonstrators was a dramatic indication that the freedoms conceded to Cambodia's people during the UNTAC era were gradually being curtailed. It became clear that the lack of any meaningful mechanism to activate the grand provisions enshrined in the constitution could not protect even the most basic of human rights.

An absence of checks and balances

Cambodia's 1993 Constitution today remains little more than a proclamation of intentions. Article 51 stipulates that 'all powers belong to the people' and that they will 'exercise these powers through the National Assembly, the Royal Government and the Judiciary'. The establishment of these three branches of government corresponds closely with the liberal democratic spirit of the Paris agreements though in practice there is not yet a separation of powers. This can be seen most clearly with regard to the National Assembly which was directly elected by the people.

During its first term, the National Assembly was unable to exercise its legislative powers effectively or to control the government as foreseen by the Constitution. Not a single private bill was considered by Assembly members, let alone adopted; all legislation passed was drafted by the government. Rarely did the Assembly question either Prime Minister, or indeed any minister at all. In most of the debates which took place, the same few members of parliament took the floor and most deputies toed the lines imposed by party leaders. The National Assembly, in short, quickly became a 'rubber stamp' of the government.

While the effectiveness of the National Assembly was undermined by a packed legislative schedule and the lack of technical expertise needed to draft laws, the real problem was the absence of conditions conducive to open debate and the blatant disregard by both the CPP and FUNCINPEC for constitutional procedure. Party leaders regularly suppressed debate on sensitive issues or delayed the passage of legislation which threatened the stability of the fragile governing coalition or personal interests.

The generally tense political climate did not favour the creation of other bodies intended to serve as checks and balances on the use of power. The National Congress during the 1950s and early 1960s, was an annual open-air meeting at which the population received government reports and raised issues of concern with their government. In the 1990s it could have served as an outlet for popular grievances, and as a way for the people to interact directly with their representatives, but it has never been convened.

The role of the Constitutional Council was to interpret the Constitution and ensure the legality of all laws made by the government. It was not established until May 1998 when international pressure mounted on the government to ensure that there would be a legal mechanism to adjudicate disputes arising from the July 1998 elections. Even then the independence and legitimacy of the council was quickly called into question because it had not been formed in accordance with the procedures outlined in the Constitution.

The Supreme Council of the Magistracy, for its part, was intended to assist the King in ensuring the independence of the judiciary. It has only met once and, as a consequence, the promised reform of the judiciary has never come about. Most current judges were appointed before 1991, more on the basis of their political loyalty to the CPP than on merit. Few have adequate legal training or are considered impartial. Moreover, in blatant contravention of constitutional provisions regarding the separation of powers, the Minister of Justice - a government official - controls the judiciary.

Underlying this problem has been the inability of the King to effectively guarantee the independence of the judiciary as called for by the Constitution. In the face of a tendency by certain officials to interpret his every action as 'political interference', the King has consistently refrained from exercising his legitimate powers to the extent that is possible. Instead, he has been content to make general proclamations calling for human rights to be respected or expressing his disapproval of unfolding political events. The King's ability to check abuses of power has thus been greatly undermined and the monarchy's future role in Cambodia's political life is being called into question (see box below).

Centralization of power

In the absence of functioning checks and balances, state power has fallen increasingly into the hands of individuals. This was especially true following the ousting of Prince Ranariddh by co-premier Hun Sen in July 1997. Since that date, no one has been able to challenge Hun Sen who has consolidated control over the government, the National Assembly and the judiciary. He is also the sole commander-in-chief of the armed forces, meaning that political power in Cambodia is effectively controlled by a single individual.

A key consequence of the centralisation of power has been the institutionalisation of a culture of impunity in Cambodia. Both the powerful who can secure protection and the rich who can afford bribes remain above the law. They are able to secure out-of-court settlements or win law suits even when the case against them is well founded. In short, there are different rules for those with access to political power and those without. Even on issues of interest to the international community, such as drug trafficking and flagrant human rights abuse, Cambodia's powerful remain immune to outside pressure.

Another consequence is that the public service is far from politically neutral as called for by the Constitution. The 'dual' CPP/FUNCINPEC administration which emerged after 1993 was sharply divided along political lines. Even with renewed CPP domination of the bureaucracy, public interest still comes second to party or personal interests. Low salaries have forced public servants to hold second jobs and to extort bribes in order to make a living. With the complicity of corrupt superiors, public positions have in effect often been turned into private enterprises, leaving public servants trapped in a system of patron-client relations with little will or capacity to act in the public interest.

The post-1993 period illustrates that the political notions and practices of an earlier era do not simply come to an end with the promulgation of a new Constitution. Despite their rhetoric of democracy and human rights, the deeds of Cambodia's leaders have not matched their words. They pledged not to use violence to settle disputes, but have done so. They promised free and fair elections, but have not respected the will of the people. And to appease and divert attention from the real issues at stake, they have launched populist campaigns to liberalise laws on gambling, drinking and prostitution.

A 'social' check on power?

The mixed messages Cambodians are getting from their leaders have left many in a quandary. Cambodians are all too aware that, in the past, backward attitudes have carried their country to the brink of ruin. At present, this is stifling both social progress and economic development, the benefits of which many Cambodians have become accustomed to in recent years. Yet as they seek to push for political change, they are constrained by apathy, a lack of knowledge about how to act and social norms which do not encourage questioning of the status quo.

Following UNTAC's departure in 1993, a great burden was placed on Cambodia's young civil society to safeguard the fledgling democracy.

Cambodia has little tradition of civil associations, however, and despite the recent proliferation of non-governmental organisations (NGOs) involved in human rights monitoring and democracy education, the ability of civil society to 'discipline' the government remains limited. Though many civil associations embody and practise democratic values through their activities at a grass-roots level, civil society initiatives fall far short of the unity or the influence needed to ensure that the state upholds these values.

To conduct advocacy and represent people's interests with any real influence requires a certain autonomy which, as the case of the press shows (See box below), is still very limited. Many NGOs still rely heavily on international groups, or the government itself, for both funding and technical expertise. Though the government has been relatively tolerant of NGO activities in recent years, restrictive legislation under consideration during 1998 would reduce NGO freedom dramatically if adopted.

Moreover, even though political activism is increasing, many Cambodians are still content to accept the status quo or lack options to challenge it in the context of the extreme political and economic uncertainty gripping the country. Cambodians have become increasingly conscious of being poor or powerless, either inside or outside the ranks of the powerful and privileged. As a consequence, they are torn between acquiescence and action, between the urge to move up in the ranks of the privileged and protect personal or family interests and the moral obligation to challenge perceived injustices.

The risks of democratic tyranny

There is growing popular awareness in Cambodia today, as demonstrated by the public demonstrations following the 1998 elections, that direct action can lead to political change. Yet it is also clear that for political change to be meaningful and sustainable, a simple change in government is not enough. The conservative values underlying Cambodian politics must also give way to a more constructive emphasis on dialogue, compromise and mutual gain. In the absence of progress, democracy in Cambodia risks being simply a cover for a continuation of personalised rule and the abuse of power.

Cambodia's leaders can no longer hide behind the language of democracy and must realise that their people are more politically aware than ever before in their history. They realise that genuine democracy is not simply about how a government is elected, but about its goals. These must include a more competent and independent judiciary, greater equality before the law for all citizens, and the protection of constitutional freedoms and liberties. These goals are the yardstick by which Cambodia's people will henceforth measure their political leaders. Pursuing these goals is also the only way to consolidate Cambodia's fragile peace.

Picture: King Sihanouk, in self-imposed exile in Siem Reap, September 1997.
Source: Mak Remissa.

Steering the Middle Path

Buddhism, non-violence and political change in Cambodia

By Yos Hut Khemacaro*

* The author wishes to acknowledge the support of Dylan Hendrickson in the writing of this article.

The limitations of the recent, internationally-inspired peace intervention in Cambodia highlight the need for a greater emphasis on peace-building initiatives which are grounded in the local Khmer culture. Buddhism is the sole institution which cuts across the deep political divisions separating Cambodians today. The tendency to see it as a passive religion has often led its great potential to be overlooked by outsiders. Khmer Buddhism's timeless message of non-violence and compassion offers an important platform for promoting constructive social and political change in Cambodia today.

Such a mandate is, however, still seen as controversial by many in Cambodia. Moreover, Khmer Buddhism's inherent conservativeness and its slow recovery from near annihilation under the Khmer Rouge leave it poorly placed to challenge prevailing social injustices. Cambodia's monks face real challenges and dilemmas as they seek to reconcile a greater public role with traditional Buddhist edicts requiring them to adopt a strictly non-partisan approach - the so-called 'Middle Path'.

Destruction and revival

Buddhism has always been much more than a religion in Cambodia: it is a social doctrine encompassing all aspects of life. Most Cambodians consider themselves Buddhists. The village-based monastic system which developed over many centuries in Cambodia effectively linked enlightenment with community involvement. Under the direction of monks, wats (temple-monasteries) became not only religious centres but also sources of popular education and social services. Buddhism, as a consequence, became the main medium through which the Khmer language and culture was transmitted, explaining why it remains intricately woven into the current social fabric despite Cambodia's tumultuous past.

The arrival of the French 'civilising mission' in 1863 set in motion significant changes in Cambodia's Buddhist culture. The Sangha (the formal Khmer monastic institution) was gradually forced to modernise and incorporate western-based teaching methods, although it continued to serve as the principal moral and institutional opposition to colonialism. Following World War II, Cambodia's westernised elites continued the transformation of the country from a Buddhist-influenced polity into a secular nation-state. The number of wats and monks nonetheless underwent a phenomenal rise at this time, though this was not necessarily accompanied by an increase in the quality of Buddhist practice.

Some suggest that rituals, ceremonies and festivals became increasingly bereft of meaning. Meditation and thinking on Buddhist principles were promoted with less intensity than recitation of the Pali scriptures. Among many monks, the quest for 'inner peace' took precedence over the development of a more socially activist role as had occurred in neighbouring Vietnam. Despite enjoying immense moral authority in their local communities, Cambodia's Buddhist abbots rarely sought to extend their influence into the political domain.

However, the Sangha would not remain immune from the deep ideological rifts that plagued Khmer society from the 1960s and 1970s as the Vietnam War spilled over into Cambodia. Some learned monks took an active part in the political tumult and the Sangha fell victim to neglect on the one hand and to western ideologies of both left and right, on the other. By the early 1970s fighting between communists and anti-communists, along with an intensive bombing campaign by the US, was creating severe social havoc across Cambodia.

This turmoil laid the groundwork for the Khmer Rouge's rise to power in 1975 and the virtual destruction of Cambodia's Buddhist culture. Defining religion as reactionary and a tool of the exploiting class, the Khmer Rouge systematically set out to obliterate Buddhism along with the minority faiths of Islam and Christianity. Many wats and the bulk of the Khmer Buddhist literary heritage were destroyed over the next four years. Monks, like ordinary people, were forced to pledge loyalty to the Angka ('Organisation' - a euphemism for the communist party). Very few of Cambodia's 65,000 Buddhist monks survived the Khmer Rouge's reign of power.

Despite the massive scale of human tragedy, however, the Khmer Rouge only succeeded in destroying the outward signs of Buddhism and not the beliefs within. Buddhism's recovery during the 1980s would be slow given the decimation of its leadership and moral influence, the lack of resources to rebuild, and the restrictions imposed on Buddhism by the new Vietnamese-backed government which had driven the Khmer Rouge out of power. Although Buddhism was formally restored as the national religion in 1988, and many of the restrictions on it lifted it has never resumed the status and role it enjoyed prior to the 1970s. This can in large part be explained by the decay of traditional values stemming from the war and Cambodia's increased exposure to outside cultures during the last century.

Yet the widespread building of wats in contemporary Cambodia, along with popular participation in a wide range of religious ceremonies, indicate that Buddhism remains very strong in people's consciousness. This suggests that Buddhism could potentially play a more active peace-building role than it has to date in Cambodia, although this would require a radical adaptation by Khmer Buddhists to the changes occurring in Cambodian society and the wider world.

Radical conservatism

Khmer Buddhism's inherent conservatism is a reflection of its development in an agricultural-based society. Peasants have traditionally sought to mitigate their economic insecurity through hierarchical patron-client relationships. The implied protection offered by elites in exchange for loyalty under this system has long stifled the development of a strong sense of collective social responsibility in Cambodia. Along with the high value placed on harmony in the Khmer culture, this has served as a strong disincentive among monks and the wider population to challenge the existing social order.

This conservative outlook on change persists in post-war Cambodian society due to low levels of formal education. In this context, Cambodians have become very discouraged about the persisting conflict and many believe that peace - when it finally comes - will come from outside. The Buddhist clergy continue to place more emphasis on serving as the 'conscience' of society than on actively seeking to transform it. Moreover, many monks are very young and lack both the education and the experience needed to effectively lead their monasteries or to gain the respect of the community.

The Buddha's 'step-by-step' approach to social change has resonance with political notions such as participation, democracy and human rights which have come from outside Cambodia. While these ideas are touted by some politicians as foreign imports, with little relevance to Cambodia, they are also found in the dharma (see box below). Buddha himself advocated democracy within the community of monks, citizen participation in government and opposition to tyranny.

Committed Buddhism requires active participation in social and political life, which in turn requires a clearer understanding by people of both their rights and obligations in the society in which they live. In the face of Cambodia's age-old traditions of deference and hierarchy, it is easy to misinterpret Buddhist teachings on forgiveness and justify inaction in the face of injustice. The key lesson of recent years in Cambodia is that peace is not sustainable if injustice prevails. Khmer Buddhists must take their faith out of the monasteries even at the risk of defying Buddhist edicts which have traditionally kept them out of public life.

Steering the Middle Path

Because public activities which challenge injustice are often seen as partisan by Cambodia's leaders, monks have a responsibility strictly to follow the Middle Path. Non-partisan activism in favour of peace walks a fine line between neither endorsing nor opposing any party in a conflict and making clear statements of opposition to policies which lead to violence and suffering. Nevertheless, in Cambodia's current political climate, such a position is still seen as controversial by many.

Many within both the government and the Buddhist clergy argue, for instance, that monks who adopt a more public role are meddling in politics and overstepping the bounds of their religious duties. They also maintain that political problems should be dealt with by the proper authorities who are empowered by the Constitution. These arguments highlight the risks Cambodia's monks take in seeking to play a more active social role, though there are many ways in which they can have a constructive impact on politics and remain non-partisan.

Cambodia's legal institutions are currently far from adequate: there is a pressing need for complementary initiatives to bolster the state's formal system of governance. Domestic violence and land disputes, for instance, are perhaps the greatest source of conflict in rural Cambodia and are often closely linked to conflicts at the national level. Community-based development has traditionally been the basis for social peace in Cambodia and monks are actively involved in a range of initiatives to promote this. This includes training seminars which seek to instill values of human rights and democracy in the community as well as economic initiatives which target the poverty underlying much social unrest.

There is also a need to ensure that the national law is formulated and applied fairly so that all Cambodians may benefit equally. Khmer Buddhists recognise the Constitution as the supreme law of the land. Buddhist groups actively participated in the 1993 Constitutional Assembly, registering their views and concerns as the new laws were debated. Cambodia's monks also have the influence to hold political leaders to account. Recognising the immense moral authority which monks enjoy, political leaders regularly call upon them to bless their programmes. This enhances the public legitimacy of politicians, though all too often monks have not taken advantage of the opportunity offered to instruct political leaders on their duties to the people.

In many cases, however, monks will simply not be listened to. Cambodia's leaders often say that the people are not ready for human rights or democracy. They argue that to call for more human rights is a political act which is not the responsibility of monks. Yet many Buddhists would argue that human rights are not simply a political matter, but are part of the much more fundamental economic and social freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution. The dilemma is that if the people simply wait for the government to offer them their rights they may never have them.

This raises the possibility of more direct involvement by monks in party politics or other forms of political activism in order to put pressure on the government to make changes. This is an issue of legitimate concern for Cambodia's monks who are divided on which approach to take. Ironically, the National Electoral Law authorises monks to vote even though the Assembly of Monks, which has the authority to rule on this matter, was not consulted during the formulation of the electoral law. Certain government officials, who feel they have the support of the monks, are happy that they are accorded the vote though they consistently resist any other kind of political role.

While many monks did vote in the July 1998 elections, others still believe that voting will lead the Buddhist clergy to adopt a partisan position in defiance of their traditional Buddhist edicts. They would argue, however, that this does not necessarily stop monks from instructing the people on the criteria to use when making their choices. Public education campaigns are not incompatible with maintaining political neutrality if their focus is on increasing respect for the Constitution, the highest law of the land.

Other forms of social mobilisation led by monks, such as the Dhammayietra peace marches (see box below) have come to be tolerated, if not accepted, by the government. As Cambodians become more socially aware, they will be in a better position to organise themselves and press for political change. Associations for farmers, teachers, students and factory workers, for example, are the key to empowering the dispossessed and replacing the cults of power which exist in Cambodian society. Yet because Cambodia has little tradition of such associations, it will be a long time before people have the courage or knowledge to mobilise themselves.

Baptism of fire

A new generation of activist Cambodian monks came to the forefront of Cambodian politics in September 1998 during public demonstrations against Hun Sen's allegedly fraudulent electoral victory. Their open defiance of traditional Buddhist edicts and orders from their elders not to participate made them targets of a violent government crackdown. Their fate prompted a mixed reaction: incredulity and outrage among many Cambodians, while others again argued that 'religion and politics do not mix'.

Some monks themselves protested that 'if the government wants to keep Buddhist monks from getting involved in politics, they should not allow monks to vote'. Yet, public actions denouncing injustice are desperately needed in Cambodia, given the very real possibility that war will break out again if human rights abuses continue unchecked. Challenging the powerful requires great conviction on the part of monks who are themselves not immune from pressures and temptations. Cambodia's political fractures have been reflected in the Buddhist community, making it harder for monks to develop a forceful and united stand in favour of peace. In order for their contribution to be constructive they require greater education on the teachings of Buddhism as well as a more sophisticated awareness of the world outside the monastery. Only then can they effectively instruct and provide guidance to the people.

The possibility that peace activism will be opposed with force by the government poses the greatest challenge for contemporary Khmer Buddhism. While the principles of non-violence and neutrality are not open to compromise, the Buddha himself made it clear that social injustices themselves lead to violence. To forsake social change and ignore the causes of Cambodia's persisting conflict will only delay the emergence of a more viable peace in the future.

Picture: clash of unequals: buddhist monks and the instruments of war. Source: Mak Remissa.

Institutions versus personalities

International peacebuilding dilemmas

By Dylan Hendrickson

Given the serious outstanding differences between the four Khmer factions at the time of the 1991 political settlement, transforming the ceasefire in force into a viable peace was going to be a difficult, delicate and long-term task. In recognition of this, various 'safeguards' were envisaged by the Paris agreements to prevent a return to the violence and disorder of the past. These safeguards were informed by two broad assumptions:

First, with no faction in a position to win outright power militarily, due to a halt in outside assistance, each could seek to strengthen its political position by electoral means. The risks of renewed violence would thus be constrained by the functioning of Cambodia's fledgling parliamentary system - the 'internal' safeguard. Second, due to the deep and persisting distrust between the factions, a neutral, firm and committed international community would be called upon to facilitate, finance and otherwise ensure that the terms of the final settlement were respected by all the factions - the 'external' safeguard.

The problem with these safeguards was that they assumed more goodwill from both the faction leaders and the international community than was forthcoming or indeed realistic at the time. Despite the UN's success in organising the 1993 elections, its contribution fell far short of laying the groundwork for the kinds of political institutions needed to attenuate Cambodia's destructive brand of personality-based politics. With the UN's departure, almost all power - and the fate of the fragile peace itself - remained concentrated in the hands of the governing CPP-FUNCINPEC coalition, subject to the whims and weaknesses of the party leaders and the deep-seated tensions between them.

Although the Paris agreements made liberal reference to a post-election international role to consolidate peace in Cambodia, as much emphasis was placed on preventing outside interference in the country's 'sovereign' affairs after 1993. Despite the fact that Cambodia has continued to benefit from vast amounts of international assistance for the purposes of reconstruction, there has been no effective mechanism to link this aid to the kinds of political changes needed to build peace. This has called into question the international community's ability to decisively influence the democratic transition or to prevent crises such as the July 1997 overthrow of Prince Ranariddh.

Fragmentation of responsibility

It is worth recalling that the Paris agreements came about in large part due to the strong international consensus which existed in 1991 on the need to bring to an end Cambodia's war. Similarly, it was this solid consensus which underpinned the ambitious and intrusive character of UNTAC's peacekeeping mandate, conceived by some in terms as grand as 'nation-building'. When UNTAC's mission ended abruptly in late 1993, collective international responsibility for Cambodia was rapidly downgraded and fragmented.

This is not to say that the continuing threat to Cambodia's stability was not recognised. Indeed, a November 1993 UN Security Council resolution called for the appointment of a person to "coordinate the UN presence in Cambodia, in accordance with the spirit and principles of the Paris agreement". However, even before the Secretary General's Representative in Cambodia (SGRC) had arrived, this mandate was modified by the UN General Assembly which rejected a proposal for 'integrated offices' combining UNDP and political functions. Some countries felt that combining development aid with the pressure to promote human rights and democracy would have given the SGRC undue power.

The mandate of the SGRC was therefore confined to 'preventive diplomacy' with responsibility for coordinating international assistance given to the UNDP's Resident Coordinator. In the absence of strong backing of UN member states or a clear or pro-active peacebuilding strategy from New York, the status of the SGRC vis-a-vis the Royal Government, the Resident Coordinator and other ambassadors was poorly defined. The SGRC's role thus remained low key, consisting essentially of monitoring political developments, maintaining dialogue with the Royal Government and reporting back to the Secretary General, with no mandate to mediate in the event that serious problems arose.

As a consequence, the primary emphasis of international engagement with Cambodia effectively shifted to reconstruction. Besides the ten UN donor agencies working in Cambodia, there were also numerous international NGOs and various governments which were providing considerable assistance. This covered a wide range of development and humanitarian-oriented activities in support of efforts to rebuild the country's damaged physical infrastructure, alleviate poverty, promote multi-party politics and hasten Cambodia's complex transition from a centrally-planned to a market-driven economy. These activities could be seen as key elements of a longer-term peacebuilding strategy which would help tackle the underlying economic, social and institutional factors driving Cambodia's conflict.

With some US $1.5 billion channelled into Cambodia between 1993-98, foreign aid came to represent more than half the national budget and was potentially an important tool with which to influence government policy. In the absence of a framework through which this instrument could effectively be used, however, it was rarely taken out of the 'toolbox'. Crucially after 1993, any international potential to influence political events in Cambodia would depend on integrated action and consensus on peacebuilding priorities, which was in short supply among the foreign countries involved in Cambodia at the time.

There were nonetheless important short- and long-term reasons why countries should seriously consider using the leverage offered to them by their aid and the Paris agreements to influence political events in Cambodia. In the first case, with political tensions still high in the coalition government and with none of the factions having demobilised their armies, there was a very real risk of renewed violence which would undermine all that had been achieved. In the second, any hope of consolidating Cambodia's peace in the long-term was linked to the success of the democratic transition. Unless the international community was willing to demonstrate that democratic ideals were worth upholding by taking action, when serious human rights abuses occurred or constitutional provisions were blatantly flouted, democracy would lose legitimacy in the eyes of Cambodians themselves.

Aid conditionalities

Without attempts to link financial and technical assistance with political changes to strengthen the peace, the effectiveness of international peacebuilding would therefore be diminished. The option of using political conditionalities to influence government policies nonetheless raised many dilemmas for countries, not least of which was that politicising aid would be perceived as a violation of Cambodia's sovereignty.

The principle dilemma was that for political conditionalities to be effective in influencing government policy, countries would need to act in unison. This required agreements on what kinds of conditions should be placed on aid, at what point sanctions should be used, and what the ultimate objectives of such actions were to be. Consensus was hard to achieve because certain countries had their own political reasons for not wanting to place undue pressure on Cambodia's government while others were ambivalent about what was happening in the country. With increasing international aid being channelled into Cambodia through NGOs, a related problem was that cutting this assistance would have a limited effect on government policy.

This points to a second dilemma which was often used to argue against placing conditions on the use of aid: if it was cut, even temporarily, this would have both short- and long-term consequences on stability. First, because much aid underpinned efforts to alleviate Cambodia's extreme poverty, sanctions could have serious humanitarian consequences and heighten social tensions. Second, many long-term programmes being supported by aid such as administrative reform were crucial to the success of the democratic transition and, if halted, would jeopardise future political stability. It was thus difficult to achieve agreement between aid administrators and diplomats on the point at which aid should be cut, if at all, to further political objectives.

A final dilemma regarded the question of how far the international community could legitimately intervene in Cambodia's affairs given the legacy of foreign involvement in Cambodia and the clear provisions made in the Paris agreements to prevent a repeat of this.

The question of intervention was far from clear-cut because the agreements also made the international community guarantors of the peace plan. It was clearly in the spirit of the agreements that the international community should act in the face of a serious threat to the peace even if the agreements were rather vague regarding the kinds of actions to be taken.

A clear line needed to be drawn, based on an appreciation of the provisions contained within both the Paris agreements and Cambodia's Constitution, defining which kinds of intervention could be justified. Nurturing democracy is a slow and complex process which has to take into account Cambodia's complex cultural and historical circumstances. There is therefore a danger of imposing outside priorities on the direction, form or speed of this political change. At the same time, however, there are very clear areas which are not open to negotiation: these include respect for basic human rights and the rule of law. By responding consistently when blatant violations occur, the international community's actions would also serve to strengthen Cambodia's nascent democratic institutions by bolstering their legitimacy.

When political tensions grew sharply between Prince Ranariddh and Hun Sen in 1996, most countries preferred to express their concerns privately to the government. These diplomatic initiatives lacked collective force and the messages conveyed were often not in harmony with one another. While aid programmes, tourism and private investment ushered in a period of rapid economic growth, the outside world stood by as the factions again resorted to violence to resolve their differences.

Accommodating the strongman

The events following the July coup brought home most clearly the extent of the international community's disengagement from Cambodia since 1993. In spite of clear signs that tensions were threatening to erupt violently, little concerted international action was taken to avert the fighting. In the aftermath, the official Security Council statement was surprisingly mild, calling for no specific action on the part of the UN. With no official reaction from either China or Russia, this left initiatives in the hands of ASEAN, Japan, the US and EU.

Divisions within the international community were heightened, with the US threatening to treat Cambodia as a pariah state because of Hun Sen, and other nations such as France choosing to overlook human rights abuses. Cambodia was receiving confusing signals at a time when clarity was needed (see box).

Just as the lack of consensus had created conditions favouring Hun Sen's coup by leaving him confident that concerted international condemnation would not be forthcoming, after the coup it gave him a certain freedom to consolidate his position. The July events left many countries torn between their stated commitment to the Paris agreements on the one hand, and growing ambivalence regarding events in Cambodia on the other. Temporary and partial cuts in international assistance were made and Cambodia was deprived of its UN seat and entry into ASEAN. Few countries were eager to see the unwieldy pre-July 1997 power-sharing arrangement restored, nor were there any easy options. The new reality was accepted and Hun Sen was instructed to respect human rights and ensure that 'free and fair' elections took place, as scheduled in 1998 with Ranariddh's participation.

The main opposition to Hun Sen's consolidation of power in the run-up to the elections would come from the US, whose call for a 'principled' democratic line conflicted with the more pragmatic stance adopted by other countries including Australia, China, Japan and members of ASEAN and the EU.

At this point the gap between the rhetoric of many members of the international community, which professed a strong commitment to democracy in Cambodia, and their actions on the ground, became glaring. Hun Sen was completely dependent on international assistance to organise the elections and turned to both the EU and Japan which between them provided US $18 million in support. While both insisted that this assistance was conditional on the establishment of a neutral political environment in order for 'free and fair' elections to take place, no clear benchmarks were established to determine when assistance might be cut.

With stability also seen as key to development, and Hun Sen's iron grip the best way to ensure stability, the blatant perversion of the 1998 electoral process became an acceptable 'cost'. Elections seemed the only solution to the crisis which those in favour of stability and democracy could agree on. As in 1993, this would enable the establishment of a 'legitimate' government - at least in the eyes of the international community - which could be supported without too many awkward questions asked. As in 1993, few countries were willing to confront the contradictions inherent in their policies, not least of which was that by accepting Hun Sen's victory under the shadow of widespread political intimidation and allegations of fraud, they were delegitimising the very democratic process they were trying to promote.

This rhetoric of 'democracy' versus 'stability' adopted by the international community masked not only different national interests but also shared constraints on how to influence policy in Cambodia. In practical terms, support for human rights and democracy was increasingly tempered by a pragmatic acceptance of certain political realities: the slowness of democracy to take root, the lack of political will to make the changes needed, and the apparent need for a 'strongman' to rule the country in order to avoid renewed conflict.

Recognising harsh realities

In the absence of greater efforts to enable Cambodia's political institutions in line with the spirit of the Constitution, international policies unwittingly support political personalities, whether so-called 'democrats' or 'strongmen'. Moreover, with the international spotlight on the differences between Cambodia's political camps, the difficulties of governing are easily downplayed resulting in simplistic prescriptions for bringing about political change.

The reality is that behind the formal trappings of democracy in present-day Cambodia, such as the National Assembly, is a political system based on factional politics, hierarchy and personalised rule. The hostility between the so-called 'democrats' and 'communists' disguises a high degree of war-weariness and general agreement on running the state along free-market and democratic lines. The question is: who should control the process of liberalisation?

The 'winner-take all' attitude underlying Cambodia's political culture is reinforced by the attitude that 'if you are not with us, you are with them'. This attitude is ingrained in the psyche of Cambodia's politicians, including many of those - particularly of the older generations - who have spent time in exile. This undermines cooperation and dialogue and also makes it difficult for more far-sighted Cambodians or external diplomats to play the role of a neutral mediator. In a climate of heightened competition and acute distrust, there is little incentive for transparency in decision-making, much less consensus-building.

Underlying these patterns of political interaction in Cambodia is the crucial role played by resources. Maintaining power is dependent on the ability of politicians to deliver patronage to their supporters in exchange for loyalty. All political leaders - of all political persuasions - are forced to play this card to stay in power. The past five years show that beneath the surface many of the so-called 'democrats' in the opposition differ little from their CPP counterparts, in the way they play the political game even if their stated intentions are better.

The failure of the opposition parties to work together during 1993-97 is a sad indictment of their lack of success - if not commitment - in promoting the new, more inclusive way of politics in which they profess to believe. Moreover, the massive corruption involving some within FUNCINPEC during their time in power cannot be overlooked. Yet when these problems are seen by outsiders simply as causes of Cambodia's problems rather than as symptoms of its dysfunctional institutions, this masks the real challenge of strengthening political institutions.

In the absence of easy explanations for problems, outsiders often have a tendency to blame current Cambodian politicians for a 'lack of political will' as an explanation for what is going wrong. To the extent that the accusations frequently levelled at Prince Ranariddh for being 'an incompetent ruler' or at Hun Sen for being 'drunk with power' are accurate, this emphasises the need to see the creation of political will as an important peacebuilding goal in itself, rather than falling into the trap of assuming that it already exists and can simply be called upon.

The common tendency within the international community to search for a new 'personality' to lead Cambodia out of its troubles therefore seems like an excuse to overlook the dilemmas they will face once in power. A good example of this is the case of Sam Rainsy, considered by some to be the future hope of Cambodian politics. Young and energetic, he has the image of a reformer, and is adept at wielding the language of democracy. While he enjoys a certain popularity and demonstrated real strengths as Finance Minister from 1993-95, the extreme political positions he at times adopts have been interpreted by some as an indication that he is just another politician with a winner-take-all mentality.

Whether Sam Rainsy is better or worse than other Cambodian politicians is perhaps not the key issue; the question is rather what can be done to ensure that he, or other people who hold power, are able to fulfil their constitutional responsibilities effectively. Without greater efforts to look beyond personalities and seek to influence the institutions which both shape and constrain the actions of Cambodia's leaders, international peacebuilding efforts will fall far short of laying the groundwork for a more stable, institution-based peace.

Engaging more constructively

While there is a genuine long-term need in Cambodia to restore some sort of balance between opposition parties such as FUNCINPEC which seem to enjoy more popular legitimacy, though lack power, and the CPP which currently enjoys more power than popular legitimacy, this must be done by supporting the political institutions upon which democracy resides. Without consensus within the international community on when, whether or how aid should be linked to progress on issues such as democracy and human rights, and a willingness to act, the democratic changes being promoted will not be sustainable.

There is nothing inherently undemocratic about Cambodian culture, though many Cambodians have lost faith in their country's ability to surmount the huge obstacles which lay ahead. While this has contributed to an apparent reluctance among some to challenge the system, it belies the fact that there are many individuals who are actively breaking the mould. Often from a younger generation, these are people who have lived in exile and returned to join either the CPP or opposition parties like FUNCINPEC.

 Their exposure to more mature democracies has equipped them to exert a positive political influence over leaders who have for too long expected and received the unquestioning loyalty of their followers. These progressive Cambodians need to be identified and supported.