Seayeen Aum promotes ecotourism in the remote province of Ratanakiri, in Cambodia’s northeast. Credit: Kris Janssens/ IPS

By Kris Janssens
PHNOM PENH, Jun 28 2024 (IPS)

Modernity is arriving rapidly in Cambodia, observes journalist Kris Janssens (48), who has lived and worked in the country since 2016. The predominantly young population is eager to move forward, embracing technology over traditional agriculture or fishing. Can Cambodians unite their country’s authentic soul with their aspirations for progress?

Enormous changes throughout the years

I arrived in Cambodia in the winter of 2015, on January 7 to be precise. At the time, I was unaware of the significance of this date in Cambodian history, marking the official end of the Khmer Rouge regime in 1979. To be honest, I knew very little about Cambodia.

Today, half of the Cambodians are under 25 years old. This is the first generation of twenty-year-olds to grow up without war or violence. These youngsters want to move forward with their lives. And that usually means moving away from the countryside

I planned to stay here briefly before returning to India, where I had just finished a series of radio reports. The unique Cambodian spirit changed my decision and my life course. This country immediately felt so familiar to me that I decided to move here permanently, about eighteen months later, in the fall of 2016. I’m still very happy that I can live in this magical kingdom.

But throughout the years, Cambodia has changed enormously. In the capital city of Phnom Penh, small shops and cozy coffee bars make way for tall bank buildings. And the picturesque airport will soon be replaced by a huge terminal, further away from the city center, and out of proportion compared to the human-scaled city that I love so much.

I have the feeling that the country is losing a part of its soul, and I want to try to capture and document this authentic spirit before it is too late.

Very young population

The fact that Cambodia is at a tipping point is primarily due to demography and history. More than one and a half million Cambodians died during the brutal Khmer Rouge era in the 1970s. The Pol Pot era was followed by a power vacuum and it took until the 1990s before peace and stability could return.

Today, half of the Cambodians are under 25 years old. This is the first generation of twenty-year-olds to grow up without war or violence. These youngsters want to move forward with their lives. And that usually means moving away from the countryside. The population of Phnom Penh has increased from 1.7 to 2.4 million people in the past ten years.

According to demographic forecasts, Phnom Penh will have more than 3 million inhabitants by 2035. More and more young Cambodians want to study in the city and switch from agriculture or fishing to technology or tourism.

Harsh economic reality

This shift is clearly visible in Kampong Khleang, a stilt village on the shore of the great Tonle Sap Lake, close to Siem Reap and the famous temples of Angkor Wat. Early in the morning, a rickety canoe takes me out to the open water, heading towards the rising sun. But what appears idyllic to me represents a harsh economic reality for the fishermen here. The catch is meager, and life is difficult.

“My son is going to work in the city, away from the water,” says Borei. It is the end of a tradition because his ancestors have lived as fishermen for generations. “But living along the water has become difficult, there are too many fishermen.” His shy ten-year-old son gazes ahead quietly. I ask him where he would like to work. After some hesitation, he responds “with the police”.

“That is a typical answer,” says Chhay Doeb. He is the Executive director of Cambodia Rural Students Trust, an NGO that provides scholarships to students from impoverished rural families.

“When young people arrive in the city, they want to become police officers, soldiers, doctors or teachers,” he says. “But they gradually discover that they can also work in the real estate sector or as a lawyer, for example.”

Noticeable distrust among parents

Doeb believes that the Cambodian economy will evolve and diversify even further. “But the economic level of neighboring countries like Thailand or Vietnam is not yet within reach,” he says.

At its founding in 2011, the organization had to go to villages and convince students of the NGO’s good intentions. Today, there are almost a thousand applications for twenty new places every year. The money for the scholarships comes from Australia.

Doeb still notices distrust among parents, wondering what their offspring is doing in the city.

I also experience this suspicion in Kratie, a small town on the bank of the Mekong River in the rural interior of Cambodia. The typical rural villagers look like characters sculpted from clay, with heads weathered by the sun and bodies wrinkled from hard work.

I meet Proum Veasna, who is about to take his cows back to the stable at dusk. During our conversation, his close neighbor passes by on his moped. He teasingly squeezes Veasna’s bare stomach. “We are friends, we all know each other here,” he says. His son works as a construction worker in Phnom Penh, but he has never been there himself. “It’s polluted, I would immediately get sick.”

Veasna has always worked as a farmer. “I had no choice because I have no education.” He wants a different future for his four children. “My daughter is learning English and Chinese.” The girl cycles by as we talk about her. “She can grow up to be whatever she wants, she is so smart,” says the proud dad.

Boosting economy

Upstream the Mekong River, in the neighboring province of Stung Treng, I meet Teap Chueng and Kom Leang, a retired couple living in a lonely house in a vast wooded landscape. “Covid never happened here”, they tell me with a big smile, “because we are never in touch with city dwellers”.

They do not need to go to the nearby town, as they are completely self-sufficient. “We have four hectares of land”, says Teap Chueng, while his wife proudly shows home-grown winter melon, a mild-tasting fruit related to the cucumber.

The region is also known for cashew nuts. “As we speak, new factories are being built, so the farmers will be able to scale up the production”. Although they realize that industrialization will change the landscape of their beloved home, the couple can’t wait for this development to happen. “It will boost our economy, which will benefit our children and grandchildren”.

A country with a lot of energy

Seayeen Aum is a typical example of someone who managed to work his way up. As a child, he learned how to survive in nature. “We didn’t always have enough money”, he says. “But if you know and understand the forest, you will always find something to eat.”

Today he promotes ecotourism in the remote province of Ratanakiri, in Cambodia’s northeast. And with success. During our trek through the jungle, he constantly receives calls and orders on one of his two mobile phones. “We are a country with a lot of energy,” he says, laughing.

This entrepreneur succeeded in marketing this region, with traditional ethnic minority groups, in a respectful manner to a Western audience. Authenticity and progress do go hand in hand here for the time being.

This is a country with a lot of challenges, providing all these graduating students with satisfying employment, to say the least. The drive for stability is important to Cambodians, but I also see ambitious people like Seayeen, who have a plan and are progressively working towards the result. In another five to eight years from now, this country will look completely different.

One of many small streets in Ho Chi Minh City, with newly-build towers in the background. Credit: Kris Janssens / IPS

By Kris Janssens
HO CHI MINH CITY, Apr 3 2024 (IPS)

In recent months, several European representatives embarked on trade missions to Vietnam. German President Steinmeier visited Hanoi in January. The Netherlands sent Prime Minister Mark Rutte, with the Dutch royal couple, King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima, soon to follow suit. Notably, the Netherlands stands as the most significant European investor in Vietnam.

Additionally, official delegations from the US and China have engaged in discussions with Vietnam regarding economic cooperation.

According to the Vietnamese Ministry of Planning and Investment, the country attracted nearly US$36.61 billion of Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) in 2023, marking a notable increase of over 32 percent compared to the previous year.

What factors contribute to this success? Vietnam, having emerged from a tumultuous history that included a war with the United States until the 1970s and continuing under communist leadership, has made significant strides. European entrepreneurs share their experiences in this thriving Southeast Asian nation.

Bill Clinton and the Era of Normalization

“[Vietnamese communists] have always lied to us, and they are still lying to us. I see normalization as an attempt on their part to get access to American markets. They are not to be trusted.”

This is a quote by Sam Johnson, former Texas Republican Party MP and war veteran. In 1995, he reacted furiously to Democratic President Bill Clinton’s decision to re-establish relations with Vietnam.

Opponents believed that there should first be complete clarity about missing Americans who had never returned from the Vietnam War. Clinton supporters felt “it was time to turn the page.”

European trade agreement

The rapprochement with the West already started in the 1980s when the market economic policy ‘Doi Moi’ (literally translated as ‘renovation’) was introduced. As a result, Vietnam’s poverty level dropped from 58 percent in 1993 to less than three percent in 2020.

Meanwhile, the country managed to smooth things over with the United States and succeeded in gaining Europe’s trust. Thanks to the EU-Vietnam Free Trade Agreement (EVFTA), signed in 2019, import taxes are being systematically reduced in both directions.

The impact of this agreement took some time to materialize because the pandemic grounded planes for a few years, but nowadays European entrepreneurs easily find their way to this new sales market with almost a hundred million inhabitants.

China Plus One Strategy

Vietnam has emerged as an attractive investment destination for international investors seeking alternatives to China. For years, the Chinese work ethic and low production costs provided an ideal investment climate.

But Beijing’s economy is sputtering, wages are rising and US trade sanctions are scaring lenders away. To diversify, they want at least one branch elsewhere. As a neighboring country, Vietnam seems to be the perfect alternative.

Dutch entrepreneur Stefan Kleijkamp also applied the so-called “China plus one” strategy. He is the manager of waste2wear, a company that produces clothing and carrier bags made from waste material. So far, he has mainly been operating in China, but recently he opened a new branch in Vietnam.

The key element is the reluctance of American customers to buy Made in China labeled products. “This is related to the tense geopolitical situation,” says Kleijkamp. “The fabric still comes from China, but the bags are being assembled in our factory in Ho Chi Minh City,” he explains.

Navigating Geopolitical Sensitivities: South China Sea or East Sea?

The work ethic and mentality are largely similar, but the relationship between the two countries is very sensitive. Vietnamese may benefit from the Chinese economy, but they prefer not to be associated with their northern neighbors. This aversion goes far. Just take the map of the region.

The sea around the famous Spratly Islands, which are disputed because of their strategic location, is called the South China Sea. At least according to Beijing. From a Vietnamese perspective, it is the East Sea. Geographically, both names make sense. But a map with an ‘incorrect’ designation can cause a diplomatic row.

The increasing conflict over the islands is a cause for concern. There is a real fear of a (new) Chinese invasion of Vietnam, as happened in the late 1970s.

Aversion to China Greater than Resentment of Americans

“The two countries are at a different stage of development,” says Stefan Kleijkamp. Vietnam resembles the China of twenty years ago, he thinks, purely focused on economic development. “China itself now has bigger ambitions.”

As a result of its size and its international position, China is less dependent on the rest of the world, whereas Vietnam does need help and expertise from abroad. Also from the United States.

Vietnamese people invariably answer “they have left the past behind them” when you ask a question about the US. They have morally won the war and this feeling strengthens them.

The Entrepreneurial Spirit in Vietnam

Soon after the war, when North and South Vietnam reunited, Trường Ngô fled his country. He arrived as a boat refugee in the Netherlands, where he was trained as a hydrologist. Later, when he returned to his roots in Vietnam, he used his acquired knowledge to start a water treatment company.

“When I arrived here, these were all rice fields”, he recalls, when he shows me his head office in Trà Vinh, a city about 120 kilometers southwest of Ho Chi Minh City. “The drinking water was very dirty. Now, everyone here uses tap water from us,” he says proudly. Currently, Trường and his son Vinh supply drinking water to 75,000 residents of the region, a spectacular growth. “That’s my mindset. I have a goal and I’m heading towards it. No matter what,” says Trường.

The Vietnamese seem to incarnate the American dream more than the Americans themselves.

This rampant belief in prosperity and progress is Vietnam’s greatest asset for entrepreneurs, although there is still a long way to go. “There is a positive dynamic and a rapidly growing market,” says Steve Van Aelst. He is a Belgian architect who has been working in Ho Chi Minh City since 2010.

The Only Way Is Up

Unlike the European nostalgic and somewhat pessimistic attitude, Vietnam is purely passionate about the future and is focused on prospects and opportunities. Even if this progress means that simple rural life will eventually make way for an industrial society.

Van Aelst’s company has been able to develop urban planning projects of 1,000 hectares or even 20,000 hectares. These kinds of assignments are no longer possible in Europe and are often not desirable.

A different country also brings different challenges. Last fall, Minister-President of Belgium’s Flanders region Jan Jambon went on an economic mission in Vietnam. During this visit, Van Aelst gave a lecture on sustainability. Vietnam has a vast coastline and is therefore vulnerable to the consequences of global warming. As an architect, Van Aelst can provide ecological alternatives. However, he says, the price tag of these energy-efficient measures is also important for a Vietnamese customer.

Communist Danger

During Jambon’s visit, a political delegation member asked a question about ‘the communist regime’. But European entrepreneurs here mainly experience a capitalist mentality and do not feel the population is ‘burdened under the yoke of the government’, as is often thought.

In short, communist rule is taken for granted, as long as it doesn’t affect economic growth and people can work their way up. “The Vietnamese have dollar signs in their eyes,” someone aptly summarizes, although she doesn’t want to be named in this article.

Because Vietnam is a one-party state criticizing the government is very sensitive and this even includes seemingly innocent statements. As soon as a conversation becomes too political, it is blocked.

Same goes for Trường, who shows me his native village and the tomb of his parents. At first, he is very emotional when he talks about the opportunities his parents gave him by fleeing to Europe.

The next moment, he asks me to quickly get back into the car because he doesn’t want to be seen in such a small village with a European reporter. “You never know what the authorities think,” he says.

The communists who forced this family to flee, are apparently still watching them.

Finally, as a European entrepreneur, you cannot simply copy-paste your Western attitude here. As an example, Steve Van Aelst refers to sharp points on a building. “Those do not fit within the philosophy of Feng Shui,” the architect says. “Softness and poetry and the emotional connection with a building are important here. You have to get to know those differences and sensitivities and take them into account.”

But the general balance certainly tips to the positive side for Aelst.

“The complexity of this country and the answers we can provide are satisfying. We are working on projects here that we can truly be proud of.”

A Buddha statue keeps watch over the village of Kampong Khleang. Credit: Kris Janssens/IPS

By Kris Janssens
KAMPONG KHLEANG, Cambodia, Feb 21 2024 (IPS)

Living in a floating village means embracing the rhythm of the ever-changing water. As I stroll through Kampong Khleang, flanked by wooden stilt houses lining sandy streets, I witness daily life unfolding.  Alongside staircases, people prepare meals or run their little shops.

But actually, I’m walking at the bottom of a lake. In about six months from now, this will all disappear below the water surface. Residents will have to move to the highest floor of their houses and they will suddenly need a boat to go out.

Kampong Khleang is located on the shores of Lake Tonle Sap, in northwestern Cambodia, roughly 50 kilometers from Siem Reap and the renowned Angkor Wat temple. Owing to a unique tidal current, the village gets flooded once a year.

As the level of the Mekong river starts to rise in rainy season, the tributary called Tonle Sap is being pushed inland by the force of the water.

Lifeline

As the Mekong River’s level starts to rise during the rainy season, its tributary, Tonle Sap, is pushed inland by the force of the water. Following a meticulous scenario by Mother Nature, the lake at the end of the Tonle Sap overflows its banks and becomes five times as large, up to 250 km long and 100 km wide. From November onwards, the water recedes again.

This system is the lifeblood of this area and it creates a unique biodiversity. More than 1.2 million people in the region make their living from fishing.

But according to the Cambodian fisheries administration, fish stocks have declined by twenty percent in recent years. One of the causes is climate change. For several years now, the monsoon is less powerful and starts later than usual.

Eighty-three-year-old Laa recalls how her house was almost completely submerged during the summer. “As a child I had to go to bed by boat!” she shouts, giggling with joy at the memory. “But that’s all over now.”

Borei (24) would prefer to start his own business on land. Credit: Kris Janssens/IPS

Shallow Waters

It is five o’clock in the morning, one hour before sunrise. I go out to fish with 24-year-old fisherman Borei. With a headlamp guiding our way, he skilfully steers his outboard motor canoe through small bushes, sticking out of the water.

“More than an hour!” he shouts over the noise of the spinning propeller. He has to go further and further away from the village to find fish-rich areas.

We reach a cluster of trees, their roots more than a meter below the water surface. Borei paddles through this flooded forest and jumps into the water to check his traps.

From Father to Son

The catch is meager. A turtle can be sold, a little snake is thrown back into the water. Toads are clumsily trying to crawl out of the bucket. But Borei is mainly concerned with the fish: trei roah, a perch-like species, goes 2.5 dollars per kilogram.

Even for a dry season, the water level is exceptionally low, causing bigger fish to disappear. We return to the open water and enjoy the rising sun and a gentle breeze over the lake.

“We are fishermen from father to son, it’s our destiny,” Borei says shyly. He would prefer a more profitable job. “La-urng kook,” he says. The expression for “on land”, away from the water. Maintenance of mopeds, for example, or repairing mobile phones. But he has no investment money to start his own business.

Kampong Khleang: everything you see at street level disappears under water. Credit: Kris Janssens/IPS

“Not sufficient!”

Back in the village, the same story is repeated over and over again. There are fewer fish and everyone should learn to live within their means.

Two older ladies in a coffee shop, Laom and Juon, are discussing the situation as a local Statler and Waldorf duo. “At kroup”, they keep saying. “We don’t have enough.” Being 68 and 71 years old, they’re not so much worried about themselves, but more about the next generation.

Pooit (36) is cleaning the catch of the day. With strong strokes of a cleaver, she separates heads from slippery bodies. I’ve never understood why Cambodians prefer sitting on the ground for these kinds of jobs.

Biologists have been warning about the disastrous consequences of these dams, of which there are now eleven on the river. The hydroelectric power stations retain sediment, a sand layer containing micro-organisms that serve as food for larger animals

In a shrill voice she shouts orders to four children, crouched in a improvised circle, who help with the chore. Countless eyes of decapitated fish stare at me. The rhythmic tapping on the chopping blocks and the wriggling of struggling fish gives me a ghostly feeling. The sickening fish smell, which constantly blows through the village, combined with the stray pieces of trash, create a rough atmosphere.

“We work every day from early in the morning,” says Pooit, “we never have a day off.” But the result is very disappointing. “We only eat twice a day, mornings and evenings,” she says.

These fish are too small to be sold individually or per kilo. They are used to make the typical fermented fish paste called ‘prohok’. Once invented as a storage technique and now called ‘the cheese of Cambodia’ because of its penetrating smell.

Dams on the Mekong

Daney (34) remembers seeing big fish in the water next to the village. “They’ve all gone,” she says, “since the dams were built on the Mekong”.

Biologists have been warning about the disastrous consequences of these dams, of which there are now eleven on the river. The hydroelectric power stations retain sediment, a sand layer containing micro-organisms that serve as food for larger animals.

The dams also hold back water, which explains the lower flow rate. And larger fish, migrating to mate, cannot pass. This happens upstream on the Mekong, in Laos and northern Cambodia, more than three hundred kilometers to the east. But Mekong and Tonle Sap are two communicating vessels, and the negative effect can be felt as far away as Kampong Khleang.

No Future As Fishermen

Choon Phop (65) witnessed it all. He stopped working as a fisherman in 2016 and is now a bicycle repairer. “Many species have disappeared,” he says. “Illegal fishing techniques have destroyed the business, although there are now stricter laws.”

He refers, among other things, to electrofishing, a prohibited technique of using electric shocks in the water to affect the instinct and thus the movement of fish.

I sense more optimism from Takhoa, a 62-year-old retired fisherman, who has given his stilt house in Kampong Khleang to his son’s family. Now he lives in a small boat, surviving on vegetables and fish. In the reddish morning light he looks quite happy with his simple life.

Takhoa shares his insight like a teacher who talks to his student. According to him, the catch is poor because the low shrubs, a natural habitat for fish, are being cut on a large scale. Rice fields and other plantations are taking their place. “There are strict laws,” says Takhoa while he puffs on his cigarette, “but the police takes bribes to turn a blind eye.”

The Old Wise Man

A little later, mourning funeral prayers echo in the square in front of the pagoda. Large megaphones add a strange metal distortion to the dark sound. When the ceremony is over, I talk to the oldest monk Som Hoa (66), known by his epithet ‘grandfather’. I want to know how he sees the future of the village.

We sit on a bench in front of the meter-high golden Buddha statue. Som Hoa speaks slowly in a low, croaking voice.

“The problem is man-made,” he says. He cites illegal techniques and overfishing as the biggest causes. “They have to wake up and follow the rules. And then eventually everything will be fine.” He concludes with an old Cambodian saying: as long as there is water, there are fish.

People took to the streets to protest against the military coup in Myanmar in February 2021. Credit: R. Bociaga / Shutterstock.com

By Kris Janssens
PHNOM PENH, Aug 21 2023 (IPS)

Three notable events have boosted the democratic process in Southeast Asia in recent decades. The fall of the Marcos regime in 1986, the Reformasi that shifted Indonesian politics in the late 1990s, and Aung San Suu Kyi’s victory over the military junta in Myanmar. However, today Marcos’ son is president of the Philippines, Indonesian presidential candidates want to centralize power again, and Myanmar is embroiled in an armed conflict.

What is going on in the region, and what does this mean for democracy?

Countries like Cambodia or Thailand seem to ignore basic democratic rules. For economic reasons, they are trying to placate the West, but at the other end of the spectrum, Beijing is beckoning.

The crackdown on independent media in Southeast Asia is getting worse. “There are very few even semi-democracies left in a region where democracy was once on the rise, and tiny Timor-Leste is actually the freest state in the region”

China has been able to drastically reduce poverty rates in only a few decade’s time, without having to organize these fearsome elections. The dogma that you need a multi-party system to be a prosperous country seems to be false. Then why should Southeast Asian regimes care about it?

Moreover, the state leaders hardly notice any disapproval from their neighbours. There is the loose-tight partnership ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations). But the ten member states basically do not interfere in each other’s domestic politics, to avoid being criticised for their own human rights violations.

Humanitarian crisis in Myanmar

This lack of decisiveness became painfully clear in the spring of 2021 when the countries, in the midst of the COVID-19 crisis, gathered to discuss the situation in member state Myanmar.

In February, the army staged a coup there, resulting in bloody protests. ASEAN wanted to condemn violence against civilians in a compromise text.

Coup perpetrator Min Aung Hlaing sat at the table on behalf of his country. The head of the government, Aung San Suu Kyi, was captured by the junta after she had won the elections and did not receive an invitation.

Eventually, the meeting resulted in a 5-Point Consensus, without a clear timing and without agreements on political prisoners. The junta has recently pardoned the now 78-year-old Aung San Suu Kyi on five legal charges, meaning her 33-year jail term will be reduced by six years.

But various ethnic armed groups are still fighting the army stubbornly to this day.

Like father, like son

Accurate reporting on Myanmar is difficult because the fieldwork for journalists is downright dangerous. But the press is also being restricted in other Southeast Asian countries.

In the Philippines, former President Duterte revoked a broadcasting license held by ABS-CBN. The country’s largest broadcast company now works as a content creator but has lost much of its advertising revenue during the past three years.

Critics say this attack on press freedom is maintained by current president Marcos Junior. Important detail: ABS-CBN had already been shut down in the 1970s, during the reign of his father.

Dictator Ferdinand Marcos senior led an authoritarian regime for twenty years in which thousands were killed and billions of dollars of state money were said to have disappeared. He was finally ousted from power during a popular uprising in 1986. The impressive shoe collection, owned by his wife Imelda, symbolized his family’s exuberant wealth.

Last year, son ‘Bong Bong’ Marcos was elected as the new president of the Philippines. So far, according to independent journalist Joshua Kurlantzick, there is little sign of the promised ‘change’.

Kurlantzick works for think tank Council on Foreign Relations (CFR) and wrote the predictive blog post “Why democracy in Southeast Asia will worsen in 2023” late last year.

Solid democracy in Indonesia

In an interview with IPS, he says the crackdown on independent media in Southeast Asia is getting worse. “There are very few even semi-democracies left in a region where democracy was once on the rise, and tiny Timor-Leste is actually the freest state in the region”.

Indonesia is also seen as a solid democracy, although it is very unclear what next year’s presidential elections will bring.

Current president Joko Widodo has to make way after two terms in office. Defense Minister Prabowo Subianto is one of the presidential candidates. He has been linked to the killings of activists and journalists and has already made clear he doesn’t value democracy so much.

“Prabowo could cancel the many local and regional elections that have become the lifeblood of Indonesia’s highly successful program of democratic decentralization to consolidate power in himself”, Kurlantzick says.

The LGBTQIA+ community in Indonesia is also holding its breath. In an opinion article, gay rights activist Dede Oetomo points out that “morality is an important battleground for Islamist politicians”.

President Widodo has always been able to maintain a balance, but Oetomo fears there will be more prohibitions in the near future, including a ban on same-sex intercourse.

“Resistance in the streets and at the Constitutional Court are the best ways forward to preserve democracy in Indonesia”, he concludes.

Gay kiss

Sexual orientation issues are also stirring up emotions in other countries. Last month, a gig by the British pop-rock band ‘The 1975′ in Kuala Lumpur was cut short. Singer Matty Healy criticized the Malaysian law, which prohibits homosexuality, and then kissed his bassist. Subsequent concerts by the band in Indonesia and Taiwan have been cancelled.

“LGBTQIA+ rights are certainly benchmarks for democracy”, says Belgian researcher Bart Gaens in an interview with IPS. He teaches at the University of Helsinki, with an expertise in EU-Asia relations. “However, the question is whether external criticism such as the protest by ‘The 1975’ does any good”, Gaens adds.

He believes change can only be gradual and has to happen from within, for example through vibrant civil societies. “Along with democratic backsliding including in the US and elsewhere, Southeast Asian countries are now even more hesitant to accept external criticism”, he says.

Global phenomenon

Widespread homophobia and transphobia, and increasing bashing of ‘mainstream media’ can certainly be seen as symptoms of this global downturn Gaens mentions.

However, a key point needs to be added. Supporters of Trump in the US and of the former French presidential candidate Zemmour are mainly democracy-weary.

They prefer a strong autocratic leader over endless debates within a politically correct parliament or in-depth journalism with strong and valid arguments.

In the Western world, the system seems worn out and frayed. In Southeast Asia it has never been able to fully develop.

This article is the second in a series about declining democracy in Southeast Asia, read the first part here.

Cambodia's prime minister, Hun Sen. He will hand power to his son later this month, after rigged elections. Credit: Shutterstock.

By Kris Janssens
PHNOM PENH, Aug 17 2023 (IPS)

Democracy is declining in Southeast Asia. The Cambodian prime minister will hand over his office to his son later this month, after rigged elections. Meanwhile, Thailand’s largest political party is kept from power.

”What do you expect, he’s in the military!” My fellow journalist is quite firm when I ask her what she thinks about the prime minister-designate of Cambodia. We sit in her favourite coffee shop near the royal palace in the capital city Phnom Penh, where we occasionally meet to discuss political issues.

Little alternative

She doesn’t think Hun Manet (45), who will become the country’s next leader on August 22, will change the system. Not only because he is an army chief, but also because she thinks father Hun Sen (71) will continue to play an important role behind the scenes till his very last day.

This has always been Hun Sen's strategy. Emphasizing he has brought peace and stability after the turbulent Khmer Rouge era, while mildly pampering the middle class to avoid any uprising. According to his successor, who also held a post-election speech, “the nation’s biggest asset is its human resources”

“Until then, the son cannot possibly tackle the widespread corruption, even if he wanted to,” she says, referring to a story about children of party officials who are on the payrolls of ministries without actually working there.

My colleague has been living in Cambodia since the late 1990s and she knows that there’s little alternative. If the current rulers were to disappear today, the lights would go out in this country. Literally, because the prime minister’s family also owns the only electricity company.

The dynastic succession from father to son raised more eyebrows among foreign observers than among Cambodian citizens. In recent decades, they have mainly been busy rebuilding their country after the devastating Khmer Rouge period and the turbulent 1980s.

Hun Sen’s CPP (Cambodian People’s Party) has ruled the country since the late 1970s and has declared a landslide victory after last month’s national elections. This wasn’t a surprise, as all significant opponents had been eliminated in advance.

A game of thrones

In neighboring Thailand, the opposition was allowed to participate in recent elections. In May this year, the reformist and anti-junta Move Forward Party (MFP) even became the largest party. But leader Pita Limjaroenrat failed to gather enough support from the military-appointed senators to become prime minister.

Limjaroenrat is even suspended as a member of parliament for allegedly violating electoral rules. The new prime minister will be a candidate from the second largest group in Parliament, Pheu Thai. This is the party of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra (74), who has been living in exile for fifteen years to escape convictions and will now return to Thailand.

“So it’s confirmed”, writes political journalist and Thailand expert Andrew MacGregor Marshall on his X-account (formerly Twitter).

“(King) Vajiralongkorn and Thaksin have done a deal (…) to pardon Thaksin if he keeps MFP out of power”

A history of coups

Thailand has a history of successive military coups, each time overthrowing civilian governments. The last one was in 2014 when outgoing Prime Minister Prayut took power. Five years later, he was able to stay in office as prime minister after doubtful elections. Future Forward, the predecessor of MFP, was sidelined.

But unlike the Cambodians, the Thai people are not easily lectured by an old power elite. In 2020, student protests grew into national anti-establishment demonstrations. For the first time, the monarchy was also openly questioned.

King Vajiralongkorn, who inherited the throne from his popular father Bhumibol in 2016, is accused of rapidly gaining powers never possessed by his predecessor. However, Thailand has strict laws against lese-majeste and several students were sentenced to prison for participating in these (peaceful) demonstrations.

Behind the scenes

Last month, dissatisfied MFP supporters gathered in the streets of Bangkok to express their anger. More protest is to be expected. In an opinion article for ‘Bangkok Post’, political scientist Thitinan Pongsudhirak says the voter has little to say, while the real political game takes place behind the scenes. He is referring to the Constitutional Court, which can easily eliminate (opposition) parties.

“The commotion and seeming chaos among political parties and politicians, in contrast to the appointed agencies and established centres of power, has been used to discredit and weaken democratic institutions”, he writes.

Same story in 2017 in Cambodia, where the Supreme Court outlawed the opposition party CNRP (Cambodia National Rescue Party). For this year’s ballot, political opponent Candle Light Party (CLP, the successor to CNRP) was simply disqualified. According to the election committee, “the party failed to submit a copy of the original party registration”.

Nation’s biggest asset

Meanwhile, in the coffee bar in Phnom Penh, we are finishing our coffees. The prediction about father Hun Sen’s interference seems to be accurate. In a recent speech, the outgoing prime minister hit out at election critics in the EU and the US. “Democracy has won,” he said. He called the family transfer of power “needed to ensure peace in the country and to prevent bloodshed”.

This has always been Hun Sen’s strategy. Emphasizing he has brought peace and stability after the turbulent Khmer Rouge era, while mildly pampering the middle class to avoid any uprising. According to his successor, who also held a post-election speech, “the nation’s biggest asset is its human resources”.

It is promising that the new leader recognizes the opportunities (but also the challenges) of his very young population, with a median age of 25 years well below the global average. Hopefully this Hun Manet will give Cambodian politics a more human face, even though he is ‘the son of his father’.

This article is the first in a series of two articles about declining democracy in Southeast Asia, read the second part here.

Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen. Credit: UN Photo/Kim Haughton.

By Kris Janssens
PHNOM PENH, Oct 28 2022 (IPS)

Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen walks into a diplomatic minefield these days. He supports UN resolutions against Putin but does not want to jeopardize the long-standing friendship with Russia. At the same time, he tries to be less dependent on the West, both economically and politically.

“Right now, Russia has a good understanding with most countries in Southeast Asia. For example, the new Philippine president wants a better relationship with Moscow, we have excellent contacts with Myanmar, Vietnam, and Laos, but less with Cambodia.”

Last month, Cambodia backed the United Nations (UN) resolution condemning Russia’s annexation of Ukrainian territories. Earlier this year, Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen also signed a resolution against the invasion of Ukraine. As a result, the Russian ambassador to Cambodia Anatoly Borovik posted a rather vicious message on Twitter. “It was Moscow that assisted Phnom Penh in the most difficult period in its history”, Borovik wrote to refresh Cambodia’s memory. It is a reference to the long-standing friendship between the two countries.

Turbulent 80s

This friendship goes back to the mid-1950s when Cambodia just gained independence from France and the Soviet Union supported the then king Norodom Sihanouk, who didn’t want to choose sides between the West and the Eastern Bloc during the Cold War.

But Borovik’s tweet refers to the 1980s when the Vietnamese army took control of Cambodia after having ousted Khmer Rouge leader Pol Pot from power.

Boycott

The United States had not yet digested the Vietnam War and wanted this Vietnamese occupier to leave. Various Western countries supported this demand. Cambodia urgently needed emergency aid, after the devastation of the Khmer Rouge, but was boycotted. Only a limited number of countries, with the Soviet Union in the lead, tried to get food and medicines to the affected population.

“When I came to Cambodia in 1984, as a reporter for the state news agency TASS, there were also many Russian doctors, technicians, and engineers”, says Russian professor Dmitry Mosyakov about that period. Today he is head of the center for Southeast Asia at the Institute of Oriental Studies in the Cambodian capital Phnom Penh. “The Soviets were very close to the Cambodians, almost like a family”, Mosyakov recalls.

Prime Minister Hun Sen

One year after Mosyakov’s arrival, in 1985, Cambodia gets a new prime minister: Hun Sen. He is a former Khmer Rouge soldier who later defected and was brought to power by the Vietnamese. Today, 37 years later, he is still in office. He rules the country with an iron fist, has opposition leaders thrown in jail, and manipulates the elections. The United States and the European Union are watching disapprovingly.

That’s why it is striking that the European lobby has been able to convince Hun Sen to support a pro-Western resolution against Russia. “This is because Cambodia is still economically dependent on the American and European markets for export. The prime minister wants to change this in due course, for example, he is currently looking at the Eurasian Economic Union, led by Russia,” says Cambodian journalist Chhengpor Aun. He writes about his country’s foreign policy for ‘Voice of America’ and ‘The Diplomat’, among others.

Ambiguous

To keep the line with Moscow open, Cambodia has only signed UN resolutions with a humanitarian undertone. “For example, Cambodia supported a declaration on the protection of civilians, but abstained when the vote to suspend the rights of Russia in the UN Rights Council was taken”, explains Chhengpor Aun.

Professor Dmitry Mosyakov deplores Cambodia’s ambiguous attitude. “It was good that our ambassador referred to the 1980s and the support Cambodia received back then,” he responds. “Right now, Russia has a good understanding with most countries in Southeast Asia. For example, the new Philippine president wants a better relationship with Moscow, we have excellent contacts with Myanmar, Vietnam, and Laos, but less with Cambodia.”

Communism

When ideological ties to communism were severed in the early 1990s, the relations between the two countries cooled down. Russian aid was reduced in a very short time and the West regained influence.

Because of this historical link, some veterans of Hun Sen’s party would rather not support UN resolutions against Putin. “This is nothing more than a sentiment from the past,” says journalist Chhengpor Aun. “In any case, the Prime Minister’s foreign policy is much more pragmatic than his authoritarian domestic policy.”

Coup de theatre

Chhengpor Aun thus refers to a major coup de theatre that awaits Cambodian politics. Hun Sen has announced that he will make his son Hun Manet prime minister next summer, albeit after the national elections. “This will be the last and most important game in Hun Sen’s long career,” Mosyakov says. “I think a lot will change with the son in power, including international relations.”

Evidently, the West disapproves of this undemocratic shift in power, but Hun Sen does not want the EU or the US to interfere in his political plans. Nevertheless, the western countries are at the table during the ASEAN summit, which traditionally takes place in November and which Cambodia is chairing this time.

Between East and West

ASEAN is the Association of Southeast Asian Nations, but several major world leaders are also invited to the annual meeting. An American, a European, but also a Chinese, and a Russian delegation is expected in Phnom Penh.

“As the Khmer proverb goes, ‘merl gee, merl aing’, the Prime Minister will have to look closely at the others and at himself, to make sure he doesn’t say anything wrong,” Chhengpor Aun summarises the situation. Hun Sen will need everyone around the table to make his economic and political plans work.

In any case, history seems to be repeating itself. Just like during the Cold War, a small country like Cambodia is suddenly right in the middle between East and West.

The little shop owned by Leean Saan, close the monument with the lions. "Business is going down, Chinese people don't buy from me," she says. Credit: Kris Janssens/IPS

By Kris Janssens
SIHANOUKVILLE, Cambodia, Sep 19 2018 (IPS)

The new Macau. That’s what the Cambodian coastal city Sihanoukville is called nowadays. Chinese investors are building casinos there on a massive scale.

The southern port city lies on the new Silk Road (the so called ‘One Belt, One Road’) and is therefore interesting for China.

The Cambodian government is happy to accept the money. And Beijing never asks difficult questions.

“Things are happening so fast in Sihanoukville; the city has changed completely in only a few months time,” a friend tells me.

My last visit there was in December.

And so I wanted to see these ‘spectacular changes’ with my own eyes.

My friend was right. When you enter the city, you see casinos everywhere. There could be about a hundred by now, and new ones are constantly being built. Some of them are big showy palaces, but there are also obscure gambling houses.

Alongside those casinos you still find the typical Cambodian shops, where people drink tea and where food is skewered and cooked on the barbecue.

Tourists at the beach enjoy their cocktails or take a dip in the gulf of Thailand.

But all those elements are in disharmony with one another.

There is clearly no urban planning here.

It seems the builders got carte blanche to satisfy the hunger for gambling.

Gaudy lions

The statue of two golden lions, at a roundabout close to the sea, is a beacon in the city. Leean Saan (76) has a tiny little shop close to the lions. She sells soda water, cigarettes and fuel for motorbikes.

Ten years ago, when the tourists came, she started selling drinks. “But the business is going down,” she says. “There are more and more Chinese people and they don’t buy in my shop.”

“They are gangsters!” says a tuk-tuk driver who comes to buy fuel. “They promise for example to pay three dollars, but when we get to the destination they only give two. And when I complain, they threaten me with violence. They always travel in groups, so they feel superior.”

Making good money

I walk down the street and see some Cambodian youngsters who are queuing to buy coffee. They are more positive about the recent developments.

Rath (22) has been working for five years as a receptionist in a hotel casino. “My first salary was 80 dollars a month. Two years ago it was raised to 200 dollars and since last year I make 500 dollars a month. They need experienced staff.”

But there is a flip side to the coin: prices have gone up in a short period of time. “I used to pay 30 dollars a month to rent a room, nowadays they ask up to 250. But at the end of the day I still earn more than before.”

O Fortuna

It is time to get an inside look into one of those casinos, ‘Golden Sand’. I am the only white person and the security staff watches me closely.

At the entrance of the hall the song ‘O Fortuna’ taken from ‘Carmina Burana’ is being played repeatedly. A screen shows an animated movie with Chinese dragons and philosophers.

The game room is big but feels cold, in spite of the wall-to-wall carpet and the leather and fabric seats. There are Chinese wall ornaments.

Croupiers in red costumes are sitting at big card tables. You see a lot of security agents here as well. Young girls in blue outfits wander down the hall carrying fly swatters to kill annoying insects.

Remarkable: Cambodians are not allowed to gamble, by law. So all customers are Chinese.

Also remarkable: they don’t come dressed in suits and ties, but are dressed in shorts and t-shirts.

“Most customers here are builders,” says Wu, who works himself at one of the numerous construction sites in Sihanoukville. “They come here to spend the money they just earned.”

Wu is here for six months. He earns 700 dollars a month. He could make as much money in China, but here he has more job security.

Recruiting

Srun (28) works as a recruiter. He’s Cambodian but has Chinese roots and works as a tour guide for Chinese tourists. “They often asked me where they could go to gamble.” So Srun went to talk to several casino managers and he has an agreement to work on commission.

“You have to talk face to face to Chinese people,” he says. “I understand some Cambodians think they are gangsters, because they always talk so loudly. But that is simply their way of negotiating.”

Srun gets one percent of the money customers spend on gambling. “That doesn’t seem much, but in some cases we are talking about 10,000 dollars for a group of four people. The casino opens a special VIP-room and I get a 100 dollars.”

Rental prices

It is lunchtime. I decide to go for a noodle soup in a…Chinese restaurant.

“We only have Chinese people,” says manager Zong, “I don’t even speak Khmer.” She followed her husband about one year ago, coming from Hangzhou, in the eastern part of China. “Customers pay about seven times more here for the same dish. So the decision was easily made.”

She pays 3,000 dollars in rent for her restaurant. “That’s a lot of money, but it still is an interesting deal. That also goes for the owner. He could never get this amount of money from locals. So everyone is satisfied.”

This house owner is actively helping the Chinese settlement in Sihanoukville. His fellow citizens, who might have been born here, have no other option than to leave the city and try to find affordable business premises elsewhere.

As long as money talks here, the Chinese population will continue to grow.

Maybe I should make the same trip in another six months from now, to document the new changes to this area.

*The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of IPS. 

Excerpt: