Tuesday, June 26, 2012

A Sombre Day In Phnom Penh: Part One


After arriving in Phnom Penh Airport and going through customs, the first thing that struck me as odd and really quite sad was the sign that read: “please don't touch our children”. If you weren't aware before you entered the country, this polite request informs you that Cambodia has a problem with child abuse. It's not long until you realise that Cambodia has other problems too. Exploring Phnom Penh, particularly away from the more tourist friendly areas, along with the obvious problem of poverty, you notice that a higher than normal proportion of the Khmer people have disabilities. To be more precise, you notice many of the local Khmer are missing limbs, usually a leg, sometimes both. Whether or not you came to Phnom Penh to learn about Cambodia's horrific not so distant past, it's hard not to be touched and intrigued by the struggles that the Cambodia people have endured and still endure, as is clearly visible. For me personally, a visit to the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum (S21tourture prison) and Choeung Ek (the Killing Fields) were essential. As Sombre as visiting these sites would surely be, I wanted to further understand what and why happened in Cambodia at the hands of the Khmer Rouge.

So on my first full day, I found a taxi, arranged a price for the day, and set off a little later than planned due to the previous late night and customary hangover. First stop Tuol Sleng. Making our way through Phnom Penh's traffic I noticed how disjointed and unruly motorists seemed to be. I was given a taster of the city's road etiquette as I walked through the city the evening before. I had tried crossing the road and failed on several attempts as motorists not only drove on the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic, they actually came at you from all angles, forcing you to scan an area of 180 degrees before crossing. This is a lot harder than it sounds as the roads were packed with motorists, mainly motorbikes, who liked nothing more than to change direction at the last moment with no prior warning. From my view out of the back of the taxi, I tried to assess the roads from a motorists perspective, but still couldn't work out why I had not yet seen an accident. I was later told by a French National who now resides in the city, that although it looks extremely chaotic and disorganised, there is an understood system that works, for the most part anyway. That said, traffic accidents are apparently extremely common.

We arrive at Tuol Sleng and I enter. Originally a school, it was used by the Khmer Rouge during their time in power from 1975 to 1979, as a prison, torture chamber and interrogation centre. Once you've paid at the entrance you walk through into a courtyard which consists of three dirty and drab looking concrete buildings, positioned towards the back and sides. Centrally is a well maintained garden area, adding a little colour and an air of serenity to an otherwise dreary and depressing scene. Laid out to the side of the garden was a small graveyard. My day grew ever more sombre and reflective from this point on.





For the most part the multi storey buildings contained two types of rooms. The larger rooms were capable of holding several prisoners and were used for interrogation and torture, while other rooms were holding cells and were divided into many much smaller cells, some probably able to accommodate only a single person. I started with the larger rooms in the building to my left. Each room was dirty, dark and depressing. Some were completely empty while others contained metal beds, torture equipment and had photos of blood stained floors and lifeless victims shackled to beds. Going from room to room I slowly began to immerse myself in my surroundings, trying to imagine the horror and dread the victims would have felt, knowing the only thing they had to look forward to after the pain and humiliation, was death. A strange mood enveloped me, one that was new and alien, and one that is very hard to explain. I think it stemmed from the realisation of just how sick and heartless a human being must be in order to carry out such atrocities. To watch someone suffer in that way would be unbearable, but to be the cause of that suffering, well, it takes someone either inhuman or someone who is so afraid of succumbing to the same fate that they dare not disobey their orders. For humanity's sake, I truly hope that for the majority of Khmer Rouge who committed these heinous and horrific acts of barbarism, they did so out of an innate sense of self-preservation, and not because they in anyway wanted to. It allows for much more hope if one believes that a few unhinged, cold and heartless individuals some how forced or coerced the majority through threats, intimidation and indoctrination. 







Having pushed such grim thoughts to the back of my mind I moved on to a part of the museum that exhibited photos; lined up were rows and rows of pictures of both the victims and the perpetrators. That strange mood quickly came back, even more intense than before. The cold emotionless expressions of the young looking jailers were quite chilling. What were they really thinking? Did they really believe that what they were doing was for the greater good? The ages of the victims varied more, ranging from young boys right up to middle-aged adults. Some were photos of them as new arrivals, others showed the bodies of the dead having already been through hell. The photos that have been permanently welded to my consciousness are that of a young mother and baby. After these photos were taken, the mother would have suffered unimaginably through interrogation and torture, probably already aware that no matter how she responded, execution would be the outcome. What would have happened to the baby I'm not quite sure, but I suspect as torture would have been useless, death would have come quicker. The Khmer Rouge did a thorough job of documenting every prisoner who came through S21; of the 14,000 who were sent herefor interrogation, there are only 7 known survivors.









I continued on to the building situated at the back of the courtyard where inmates were kept in small holding cells. While some cells were wooden with peep-holes in the doors, others were simple door-less brick structures with no other features except a single metal shackle. Both were dank and would have been extremely uncomfortable places to stay.







Time was getting away a little, plus I felt I had seen enough, so I walked through the courtyard and exited out the other side where I found my amiable little taxi man. “Choeung Ek we go” my taxi man informed me. So the Killing Fields we went.



Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Political Party Donations


In the UK, although political parties and MPs do receive some public funding, the majority of their funding comes from private donations, whether it be from an individual, organisation or business. This is standard practice, an accepted norm in the political world, but which is in my opinion, inherently unhealthy for democracy and opens the door to dishonesty and corruption.

As it stands, donations are an essential part of any political party campaign, allowing them to get their message across to the public, as well as financing the day to day running of their party. Party campaign expenditures, among other things, include: transport, advertising, broadcasts, market research, party manifestos, and canvassing. None of this comes cheap, and if a party wants to be successful it is important that they are as visible to the public as their rivals, if not more so. Considering the amounts of monies that are involved, it would on the face of it seem like a good idea to allow private donations, saving tax payers millions of pounds in any given year. But when you dig a little deeper you soon find some worrying drawbacks to the current system of party funding.

Donations are not in any way supposed to influence or affect a politician's decision making when concerning policy. But how can we ever be sure of this. If for example, a politician or party receives regular or large donations from big business leaders, who's own wealth and the wealth of the companies they represent are directly or indirectly effected by polices which are passed through parliament, there is a huge conflict of interest. It creates an “I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch my back” culture which compromises the integrity of both politicians and business leaders alike. Anyone who has an interest in politics and/or economics will probably tell you that politicians are increasingly at the mercy of big business. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the United States, where the system appears to be less democratic than in the UK. In America it is usually the party who receives the most dollars who goes on to win the election, therefore placing even more pressure on politicians to do what is necessary to secure big donations. Of course there are many other reasons as to why democracy in the US is suffering, one being politicians having business interests of their own, but to discuss them here would be getting a little off the subject.

In the UK, the Conservatives have for a long time received large funding from people connected with the world of big business and finance, where the majority of the Labour Party's funding comes from the unions. I'm sure that both parties often make choices that are unpopular with their donors, but the I have no doubt that many politicians make decisions with their benefactor's interests niggling away at the back of their minds, well aware that losing these big financial contributions could have a detrimental effect on whichever party they represent. The ongoing Leveson inquiry, which among other things is examining the relationship between the media and politicians, has shown just how cosy and inappropriate the “I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch my back” relationship can be. Some politicians, who are understandably fearful of bad and unflattering press, have be socially involved with influential members of the tabloid press, including former editor of The Sun, Rebekah Brooks, and the Chairman and CEO of News Corporation, Rupert Murdoch. The Leveson inquiry has exposed the dangers of such relationships. One example unearthed by the inquiry was of a text message regarding News Corporation's takeover bid of BSkyB. This was sent by Conservative MP Jeremy Hunt to Deputy Chief Operating Officer of News Corporation and son of Rupert Murdoch, James Murdoch. The text congratulated him on “European clearance” for the takeover bid and went on to say “just Ofcom to go!”. Ofcom being the UK regulator and competition authority on communication industries. Hours after this text, Prime Minister David Cameron gave Jeremy Hunt responsibility for overseeing the takeover bid. Considering the magnitude of such a takeover and the effect it might have had on the media, and even the effect it might have had on politics with the possibility of skewed and biased reporting, putting Mr Hunt in charge was clearly a mistake. Cutting out any temptation and reward for politicians trying to please the media or their financial benefactor would make for a cleaner and better functioning democracy.

So what are the alternatives?

Well, caps on the amount that contributors can donate is one idea that might help to stem the unhealthy relationship between politicians and donors. The smaller a donation is from one source, the less important that one source becomes, therefore discouraging the need for an inappropriate relationship, and possibly even eliminating the need for a relationship altogether. Although this system would be an improvement, depending on how high the cap is set, some might argue that as long as there are private donations involved, corruption and immoral behaviour will continue.

The other option is to totally ban private donations, using tax payer's money to fund the running of political parties. Much deliberation would be needed before implementing a system like this. Which parties would receive funding and how much would they be allocated. And what about the smaller grass roots parties; would they receive public funding at all.

The amount of public money that would be needed to fund a system like this might initially be seen as unacceptable, particularly in times of recession. But, the amounts need not match that of current private donations. In fact, they could be considerably less, forcing parties to concentrate more on policy and less on style. The drain on the public pot would be minimum. It gets a little more complicated when deciding which parties receive the funding and what happens to the parties who don't qualify. Maybe the answer to that is to fund the bigger, more popular parties, but allow smaller parties to receive private donations up to a capped amount.

With the right planning and a small amount (in the big scheme of things) of public money, a new and fairer political party funding system could be introduced. This would encourage a more honest and vibrant democracy that would benefit us all. The only losers would be those unscrupulous individuals and organisations who put their own interests first, to the detriment of society.