A phony war

Troops loyal to Cambodian strongman Hun Sen are chasing royalist forces through the lush green rice paddies of northern Siem Reap province at a speed that bodes ill for those followers of the ousted first prime minister, Prince Norodom Ranariddh, who hold hopes of turning the area into a hotbed of resistance. The presence of several hundred royalist troops in Siem Reap town when Hun Sen launched his coup against the prince on July 5 made this potentially one of the most explosive spots in Cambodia.

Royalists have also long thought of a neighbouring province on the border with Thailand as a possible resistance base. But the royalist commander in Siem Reap backed away from confrontation, the troops pulled out almost without a shot being fired, and swift deployment of reinforcements backing Hun Sen’s Cambodian Peoples’ Party (CPP) has swung the balance of power decisively in his favour. By some accounts, the retreating royalist commander talks regularly with his CPP counterpart by radio and there are rumours that a deal is in the offing.

“We will fight back when appropriate, meaning we can choose when and where to hit back,” opposition leader Sam Rainsy, effectively in exile like Prince Ranariddh, declared from Bangkok. “For the time being Hun Sen has the upper hand,” he continued, “but I think a civil war has started in Cambodia.”

There is precious little evidence of that in Siem Reap. A few days ago tank and rocket fire echoed around the provincial capital from a frontline 20 miles to the west. Now the front line is retreating north, sometimes by 20 miles a day. Demoralised royalist forces are heavily outnumbered and outgunned, short of fuel, food and ammunition and are putting up little fight, although they may have slowed the CPP advance by blowing up bridges in recent days. The soldiers of both sides seem as united by war weariness as they are divided by party loyalties. Only weeks ago these troops were at least nominally on the same side.

“Cambodia has too much war, it’s no good,” sighed CPP foot soldier Rithi at the front. “The soldiers are doing what their commanders tell them.” And for all the sound and fury of the intermittent shelling, the pursuers — including a sizeable number of barely trained troops in their early teens — seem as little bent on destruction as the pursued.

Only a handful of casualties have come back from the front, and apart from the splintered timbers of bridges, the villages through which the troops have moved show no scars. Such restraint is motivated by self-interest.

Many in the villages sympathise with the royalists and some CPP troops have families there. But back in the provincial capital, the soldiers have left a civilian population gripped by confusion and fear. Few know the reasons behind the ferocious battles ignited by the coup in Phnom Penh. “I don’t know who is good and who is bad any more,” admitted a policeman. Seim Reap appears to have escaped the brutal settling of accounts which has occurred nearer the capital, where human-rights monitors report 40 executions and incidents such as the torture of four royalist bodyguards who had their eyes gouged out before they were shot.

There are unconfirmed reports of young men in villages being shot on suspicion of belonging to Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, and locals say there is a widespread anxiety that the bad old ways of communist rule will return. Such apprehensions go hand in hand with the economic price Siem Reap is already paying for Hun Sen’s political ambitions. Most of the large new hotels that have sprung up in what is Cambodia’s top tourist destination are shut, their staff laid off. Many market stalls are boarded shut and the bustle has vanished.

There are worries too, that the coup may slow the demise of Pol Pot’s loyalists. Prince Ranariddh’s contacts with guerrilla chiefs from the last remaining big Khmer Rouge base in northern Cambodia are among the “illegal acts” for which Hun Sen says he should stand trial.

If the royalists are pushed by CPP forces all the way through Siem Reap to the Thai border, some analysts fear they will seek common cause with Pol Pot’s veterans and help to defer the day when his dwindling movement finally collapses.