Figurehead (19 page)
‘No distance is too great in the cause of peace.’
‘I agree fully. Please know that I am genuine in my efforts to find a solution. I believe with all my heart in reconciliation and in forgiveness. But please be patient with me. Peace may not come today. It may not come tomorrow. But it will come soon. Do you have any advice for me?’
‘Might we remind you that you should always choose non-violent rather than violent methods?’
‘Of course that is the ideal. But, regrettably, the ideal is not always possible. A monk I once knew used to say, “When I swallow a glass of water I kill microscopic living creatures. I admit it. But I do not consciously set out to kill. My act of will is concerned only with staving off dehydration.” I feel as though I have been drinking from that glass of water for decades, all the time trying to end the fighting. My actions these past decades have always been in the service of the sovereignty of my country and the wellbeing of its people. It has never been my intention to harm a living thing.’
‘Please remember that to search for peace is not the same as to push for victory.’
‘Wise men do not desire victory or defeat. He who thinks he has won has lost. Didn’t the Buddha say that?’
‘Yes. He was talking about—’
‘Thank you again. I am moved and inspired by your devotion to our country. My heart will remain heavy until Cambodia is at peace.’
Kiry took his money clip from his pocket and handed fifty US dollars to each of the monks. Then he crossed the road and got into the back seat of a long black car.
‘There now, that wasn’t so terrible, was it?’ he said to Sok.
‘It was a waste of time. It was dangerous.’
‘It was a glimpse of our future, if things go well. You must prepare yourself. You must be ready to adapt. Come on, hurry up. The cocktail hour is upon us.’
At 2 a.m., some time in the middle of August, in a box of a room in the heart of Paris, Nhem Kiry sat at one end of a long conference table, resting his forehead on his wrist while the fingers of his other hand rapped a thesaurus. A mess of papers lay before him. Akor Sok sat to Kiry’s right. The rest of the Khmer Rouge entourage were spread out, some working alone at smaller, odd-shaped desks, some huddling in twos and threes having debates about draft documents which dealt with the terms and conditions of a possible interim government or the practicalities of repatriation for refugees or the rules of engagement for UN peacekeepers or the possible content of a sparkling new constitution. A cloud of cigarette smoke hung low.
Son Sen, who had hardly slept for a week, lay on a couch, a newspaper on his stomach, staring at a hook that protruded from the bare wall (when the French had assigned Kiry this room he had demanded that they remove the portraits of former trade ministers from the walls). Ol stood by the door to the corridor reading Book One of
Learn English Now!
Akor Sok read to Kiry from a handwritten draft of a document entitled
Draft Agreements on a Comprehensive Settlement of the Cambodian
Conflict
: ‘“The existence of Vietnamese settlers in Cambodia is a violation of—”’
‘No,’ Kiry interrupted. ‘Change it to “is in flagrant violation of.”’
‘“… is in flagrant violation of the
Geneva Convention on the Protection
of Civilian Persons in Time of War of 12 August 1948
.”’
‘1949.’
‘Yes. Sorry.
“
The most troubling aspect about the settlers is that they are part of a Vietnamese plan of continued occupation—”’
‘Stop. I want to quote the Convention after the first sentence. Otherwise our point will be lost. Who has a copy of the
Geneva
Convention on the Protection of Civilian Persons in Time of War
? Anybody?’
Vireak, a Beijing-trained lawyer skilled in international law and euphemisms, leant down and shuffled the papers on the floor beside his desk. ‘Here, I have it.’
Kiry read for a moment. ‘Insert this after the first sentence: “In fact, the final paragraph of Article 49 of the Convention states that
the occupying power shall not proceed to the deportation or the transfer of a
part of its civilian population into the territory occupied by it
.”’
Sok continued reading: ‘“The most troubling aspect about the settlers is that they are part of a Vietnamese plan of continued occupation, a systematic attempt to Vietnamatise Kampuchea. In other places around the world the presence of illegal settlers is always condemned but in Kampuchea, where there are a million or more Vietnamese, as much a part of the invading force as any battalion of soldiers, the situation—”’
‘No,’ Kiry interrupted. ‘Too vague. Sharpen it. And be specific.’
Underneath a mound of papers a telephone rang.
‘Yes?’ Sok said. He handed the receiver to Kiry. ‘It’s Nuon Chea.’
‘Yes? … Are you sure? But I think that language is too strong. For now we need only to reiterate that we require a genuinely quadripartite interim administration and … I don’t agree … Why? … Yes … I have Hun Sen’s position on the Supreme National Council right here. They say I am not acceptable as a member … No,
not
acceptable. They say they will reluctantly agree to a moderate member of the Khmer Rouge being on the Supreme National Council if and only if … No, I don’t know what that means either if it doesn’t mean me … No, that’s unhelpful … No, that’s too antagonistic ... Because they’re just posturing. Let me send a memo pointing out that Hun Sen’s position amounts to the Cambodian People’s Party maintaining effective control right through the election campaign, which is clearly unacceptable, and that the so-called solutions by third parties is … Yes, by ‘third parties’ I do mean the French but I don’t want to name and shame them right now … Well, I’m posturing too, of course I am … All I want to say at the moment is that so-called quadripartite solutions by third parties amount to a bipartite arrangement between Hun Sen and Sihanouk, which we cannot agree to … No, I don’t want to say that … No! ... All right … Yes, all right.’ Kiry hung up. ‘I want coffee.’
‘Sir, Tony Birde is outside. He’s one of the Australian foreign minister’s aides. He wonders if he might make a suggestion with regards to the genocide question.’
‘Ask him to wait. Who has the last Vietnamese statement on Vietnamisation? Anyone? Read it aloud, whoever has it. Where’s my coffee?’
‘They say, “The alleged question of so-called Vietnamese settlers is nothing but a fantasy. The sole purpose of linking this nonexistent problem of Vietnamese settlers to the repatriation of Cambodian refugees and displaced persons from the Thai border areas is to pave the way for a return to the genocidal policies and practices previously inflicted on the long-suffering Cambodian people, including repatriated refugees, and on foreign nationals in Cambodia.”’
‘Irrelevant. Ignore it. Make it clear that “to settle” is no different than “to invade.” Therefore “Vietnamese armed forces” is a term that must be given the widest possible application, and must include any Vietnamese national who is living in Cambodia for any reason whatsoever,’ he told Sok. ‘This coffee is old. Somebody ring for another pot. And sandwiches. I don’t care what’s in them so long as they’re fresh ... But no more ham.’
‘Sir, what about Mr Birde?’
‘Who?’
‘The Australian. Might I admit him now?’
‘What does he want?’
‘He wants to talk about genocide.’
‘Poor fellow: what did he do to deserve that? All right. Let him in.’
Son Sen lifted himself off the sofa and disappeared into the bathroom. Technically not a part of the delegation, he tended to make himself scarce when certain foreigners came calling. Kiry suspected he was only there to spy on him; to make sure he wasn’t going soft or conceding too much or straying from the one true path.
Ol opened the door. Nhem Kiry shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with Tony Birde, a tall man with a gently curved hint of a beer gut and a bright red face. He’ll be dead from a heart attack within two years, Kiry thought.
‘Come and sit down,’ Kiry said, leading Birde to the sofa. ‘I have fresh coffee on the way.’
‘Thank you, Your Excellency. I hope it’s not a bad time. I do not wish to impose.’
‘It is no imposition at all. I remain deeply grateful for the heroic efforts of all our friends in the international community. A cup of coffee – even the muck they serve here – is the least I can do.’
‘Thank you indeed. But on the question of the use of certain words, we are hoping we can find some way forward so that meaningful progress on other issues is not stymied.’
‘Of course, although I must repeat – and I have already made this point more than once to your minister – that this is not a peripheral issue for us. I simply cannot agree to support any document that has, as its defining spirit, an expression such as “the genocidal Pol Pot regime.”’
‘I understand your position.’
‘It is an insult, especially coming from the Vietnamese, who are the root cause of the tragedy of Kampuchea.’
‘Well, you understand, at the moment I do not wish to make any comment one way or the other about root causes. I am focused on the use of the disputed phrase. I am attempting to find an accommodation that allows us to move forward in the drafting process. What I would like to propose is that you consider agreeing to the use of an asterisk.’
‘If I may, I will ask one of my legal colleagues to join us.’
‘By all means.’
‘Ah, here’s the coffee. Vireak, Mr Birde is proposing an asterisk solution to the genocide issue.’
‘I’m not sure I follow,’ Vireak said.
‘If I might explain,’ the Australian said. ‘We include this disputed phrase but we put an asterisk beside it and with a note at the bottom, in bold perhaps, which says, “The use of the word
genocide
is contested by some signatories to the communiqué, and indicates no criticism, real or implied, towards any involved party.” I welcome your thoughts.’
‘Well now ... We will consider your suggestion, of course, and we are grateful indeed for your efforts to deal with this matter,’ Kiry said. ‘But it seems to me that this approach will still allow the offending phrase to appear in black and white for all time. I also wonder if adorning the word “genocide” in such a way – with a star, of all things – might actually accentuate its presence.’
‘What if we were to adorn
all
disputed phrases with an asterisk? Or a cube, if you prefer. For example, the Vietnamese are gravely concerned that the words “colonialism” and “imperialism” appear in draft documents as descriptions of their occupation,’ Birde said.
‘But those words are statements of fact,’ Vireak said. ‘There can be no comparison with this genocide matter.’
‘Really, I would prefer that we arrive at an alternative wording less offensive to the long struggle of the Kampuchean people,’ Kiry said. ‘Less offensive and more accurate.’
‘Such as?’
‘Perhaps something akin to “steps to avoid any return to the dangers of the past.”’
‘What about “incidents and outcomes that gravely imperilled the Cambodian nation and its people between the years 1975 and 1979?”’
‘Really, Mr Birde, you know better than that. Was there no American occupation, no war, from 1970 to 1975? Did the Americans not prop up Lon Nol and did they not drop more bombs on the defenceless Kampuchean people than were dropped on the whole of Europe in World War Two? Have the Vietnamese, on behalf of the Soviet Union, not waged war on Cambodia every day from 1979 up to and including this very day? Vireak, what was it that His Excellency, Mr Raoux, said when he opened the conference?’
‘I believe he said “it should now be possible and urgent to put an end to one of the bloodiest and most unjust conflicts in history.”’
‘Yes. We will accept some version of that,’ Kiry said.
‘How about “the future absence of universally condemned policies and practices of the past”?’ Birde said.
‘Not ideal. I would prefer, simply, “the policies and practices of the past.”’
‘Excuse me, Your Excellency,’ Sok said, holding up a telephone. ‘The French have a question: will you accept a seating plan at tomorrow’s afternoon session based on seniority? They are asking because it means you will sit beside Mr Hun Sen.’
‘Does Hun Sen agree?’
‘He does, apparently.’
‘Oh very well, if I must. Now where were we? Oh yes: asterisks. We will consider your proposal, Mr Birde. That is the best I can do for you right now. But I commend you for your ingenuity. You do your country proud.’
I was passing through London in ’91 when I heard that peace was about to
break out in Cambodia. The sky was blue, the sun shone soft and warm,
but it was the blackest of days. I felt as if a great thundercloud was dumping
lunatics of every nationality down on me and that my only choice was
to cower and prepare to drown.
The talks had been going on in Paris for weeks. I’d dropped in once or
twice for a look and a sneer. I was certain that the whole thing would
unravel sooner or later. But the world had changed and I was the last to
notice. The Soviet Union collapsed in a heap and suddenly nobody could be
bothered propping up the different Cambodian groups anymore. And Vietnam
wanted out.
But this Comprehensive Settlement they came up with was nothing more
than a washing away of the blood so that we could pretend the whole thing
was a dream. All of them – the Cambodians, the countries who helped draft
the settlement, and even the Vietnamese – were going to sign it in Paris. The
Khmer Rouge too. Afterwards, the French were going to host a grand reception:
another dirty, squalid celebration. At first I planned to boycott it. But
then I wondered, What if I refuse to go to Paris and nobody notices?
‘Whittlemore: how dare you show your face here?’ a distinguished-looking man, a relic of the fifties, snarled.
‘Hello, Mac: my very favourite enemy,’ Ted said. ‘How long has it been? It must be at least twenty years.’
‘That’s because I can live at home. I’m not an outcast. I’m not a traitor. I get to write for the
Sydney Morning Herald
without half the country sending in complaints.’