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| King Norodom Sihanouk's coffin entering the Royal Palace, Phnom Penh (via Facebook) |
The King’s Father, former King and former Prime Minister
Norodom Sihanouk has died (he also held a number of other titles…the most on
record according to Guinness.) He presided over Cambodia in some form or
another during almost every major event in Cambodia’s modern history, including
French rule, World War II, independence, the Khmer Rouge, UNTAC, and Hun Sen’s
rise. For many outside observers, his record is decidedly mixed, marred most
severely by his endorsement of the Khmer Rouge following the rightist coup in
1970. I certainly do not have much authority to speak on that subject, but
anyone interested should consult his obituaries, or better yet ‘When the War
Was Over’ by Elizabeth Becker, which is far and away the best book I’ve read so
far on Cambodian history and politics and delves deeply into Sihanouk's legacy, even if it is now a bit dated.
He died over Pchum Ben weekend, the Khmer-Buddhist holiday
celebrating ancestors, which my Cambodian friends did not view as a coincidence
and will only serve to cement the image of a divine nature for future
generations. Many Western journalists had written off the Cambodia’s royal family
as irrelevant in the post-coup Hun Sen era. Previously, I accepted this analysis, since I
rarely heard Cambodians talk about the current King or Sihanouk. Now I see they
probably had little to say to me on the subject, since I am not Cambodian and
the Royal Family is not a topic for light conversation. He was viewed as the
father of the country and very well loved. This was made clear to me today, when
his body returned from the hospital in Beijing. The entire city shut down while
hundreds of thousands of Cambodians lined the streets to view the ceremonial
procession of his coffin to the Royal Palace. For hours under the mid-day sun, Cambodians
of all stripes waited patiently in traditional funeral clothing (white
shirt and black pants, with a black mourning ribbon affixed to the right breast
pocket) holding portraits, incense, flowers and flags. It was an impressive and
moving display of national unity.
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| King Sihanouk and Jackie Kennedy, 1965 |
Initially, I had decided not to join them. This was a public mourning for his subjects, the Khmer people, and not a parade. Cambodians
have allowed much of their culture to be turned into tourist attractions, but
they take ceremonial and religious matters very seriously. However, as I struggled to find a way
back to the office after trying to run some lunch errands, I ran into a friend
of mine, who insisted that I join. It was quite hot, but nobody except for some
passing tourists left early, even after several hours. The funeral procession arrived with
chanting monks, musicians, politicians and diplomats in tow, it was over in
just a few minutes. We then turned and headed toward the Royal Palace to watch
the procession enter the Palace, where the coffin will be on display for 3 months. As
the sun was setting, the sea of white shirts and incense clouds turned shades
of pink and orange as the Palace glowed in front of us.
After it ended, I walked back to my motorbike with another
friend who’d joined us mid-way through, Chet. He is typically very snarky and
irreverent, making jokes about everything from my pronunciation in Khmer to his
impoverished childhood in Svay Reing province. When I semi-jokingly asked him
if he had cried, his answer drove home how momentous the occasion was for
Cambodians. He pointed to his heart and said, “I don’t show it but I am crying
on the inside. I usually don’t care about anything but today I’m very sad. I
love the King, you know? He’s my
King! Of course I love him.”
RIP
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