Phnom Penh, March 2008Dey Krahorm, a working class community in central Phnom Penh, Cambodia, looks like the gap-toothed mouth of a six year old: some tin shacks and cement bungalows still stand amid mounds of rubble and plastic bags.
Noren (who only goes by one name) is lucky. Her house has survived the police and military force, bulldozers and fire that have ripped through 30,000 homes in Phnom Penh, according to an Amnesty International report.
A popular singer of traditional Khmer music, Noren came to Dey Krahorm after surviving the Khmer Rouge. Between 1975 and 1979, this genocidal regime evacuated cities, moved people to agrarian labor camps, and sought to exterminate all artists and intellectuals.
When the nightmare ended, a band of surviving musicians gathered at Phnom Penh’s National Theatre. The community of Dey Krahorm grew on its parking lot. Now, they are facing a new nightmare with eerie echoes of the old.
“If we move, our students won’t have access to us,” says Noren through an interpreter. “Our music won’t survive.”
Cambodia is one of only 25 countries targeted for bilateral aid by the Canadian government. But NGOs and activists based in Phnom Penh say that aid to Prime Minister Hun Sen’s government is encouraging human rights abuses such as these forced evictions.
“If we move, our students won’t have access to us,” says Noren through an interpreter. “Our music won’t survive.”
Cambodia is one of only 25 countries targeted for bilateral aid by the Canadian government. But NGOs and activists based in Phnom Penh say that aid to Prime Minister Hun Sen’s government is encouraging human rights abuses such as these forced evictions.“We say, okay, next year we’re not going to give you any money unless you meet these [human rights and anti-corruption] benchmarks,” says Lee Robinson, a Canadian activist who often spends the night in Dey Krahorm because the presence of foreigners stills the bulldozers. “And then the next year we give more money, even though none of those benchmarks have been met.”
Between 2004 and 2005, the Canadian International Development Agency spent $16.68 million in bilateral aid to Cambodia. These annual donations guide the implementation of land laws conceived in 1991 and legislated in 2006.
“We’ve been working closely with Germany, Finland, Denmark and the World Bank,” says Michael Rymek, CIDA’s director of aid in Phonm Penh. “We provide funding to recruit, train, and pay the salaries of land-titling teams who survey the land, which will eventually lead to the issuing of land titles.”Cambodians never kept written records of ownership. Like singer Noren, people occupied whatever property they could find after the Khmer Rouge’s labor camps. In the nineties, when refugees returned in droves, land scarcity led to inflated speculation.
“Many powerful people will use state apparatus to grab land—military police, local police,” says Nyla Pilorge, director of LICADHO, one of the largest human rights NGO’s in Cambodia.
The 2006 legislation states that peaceful occupation for more than five years constitutes ownership, a stipulation that aims to curb land grabbing.
The 2006 legislation states that peaceful occupation for more than five years constitutes ownership, a stipulation that aims to curb land grabbing.
But the government still gives permission to clear “squatters”, taking over their land as public property and selling it. It’s part of a scheme to launder bribes, Pilorge says.
“There are people who are buying to buy [the government’s] loyalty… The purchase of land is a good way to hide the money.”
Evicted communities are then displaced to “human dumping sites” where children “drink their piss and eat their shit,” according to activist Robinson.
Evicted communities are then displaced to “human dumping sites” where children “drink their piss and eat their shit,” according to activist Robinson.
Though international trials against Khmer Rouge leaders are a step towards social justice in Cambodia, Robinson expresses cynicism about a world that ignores Cambodia’s current human rights crisis.
“[Donors] come here in their BMW’s, and the people, they ask us, ‘Is something happening behind the scenes?’” says Robinson. “They know how much money Hun Sen gets, but they never see it.”
Speaking off the record, a UN official based in Phnom Penh admits that progress has been slow, but that it is unreasonable to expect too much too soon in a country razed to misery by the Khmer Rouge.
Speaking off the record, a UN official based in Phnom Penh admits that progress has been slow, but that it is unreasonable to expect too much too soon in a country razed to misery by the Khmer Rouge.
As for Noren and her family, they are hopeful despite the looming wrecking ball.
“We’ll just camp in front of Hun Sen’s house and play our music until he gives us a new house,” says her husband, musician and instrument maker Chien Ry.
“We’ll just camp in front of Hun Sen’s house and play our music until he gives us a new house,” says her husband, musician and instrument maker Chien Ry.
Their son and nephew arrive with a couple of drums for an impromptu lesson. Ms. Noren smiles, confident that her art will survive for one more generation.
February 2009:
February 2009:
A year after my visit to Phnom Penh, it seems like the residents have lost their battle:
http://www.humanitarianchronicle.com/2009/02/violent-eviction-at-dey-krahorm-video/
http://www.humanitarianchronicle.com/2009/02/violent-eviction-at-dey-krahorm-video/
