Elections in Cambodia - The humbling of Hun Sen

Cambodia’s strongman gets a shock at the polls

SILENCE was the uncharacteristic leitmotif in the recent election campaign of Cambodia’s prime minister, Hun Sen (pictured above). So apparently confident was he of victory that, over the whole period of the campaign, he did not once personally deign to canvass support. Then, in the aftermath of the results announced on the evening of July 28th, he spent several days in hushed seclusion, perhaps shocked at how well the opposition had fared. He emerged eventually on July 31st, but no one is sure what he will do next. After 28 years of authoritarian predictability, with Mr Hun Sen himself at the helm, the only certainty now seems to be that Cambodian politics is entering a phase of unusual and intriguing flux.

Many had predicted that the opposition would make gains at this election, but not quite on this scale. According to provisional official results, the opposition Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP) almost doubled its share of the 123-seat national assembly, winning 55. Mr Hun Sen’s ruling Cambodian People’s Party (CPP), by contrast, dropped from 90 to 68 seats, thus losing the two-thirds majority that had allowed it to fiddle with the constitution. Minor parties were obliterated by the CNRP steamroller. The CPP had steadily increased its share of seats in every election since the full restoration of democracy in 1998. That makes this an extraordinary setback for them and a stunning result for the CNRP.

Indeed, the leader of the CNRP, Sam Rainsy, claims that his party won the election, winning 63 seats, a majority. He refuses to accept the CPP victory, and has asked for an independent committee to be set up to investigate all the irregularities and their effect on the polls. Full results will not be known until mid-August. Quite apart from the widespread rigging reported on polling day itself, the CPP’s monopoly of the media means there has never been a level electoral playing field. Mr Sam Rainsy himself was not even allowed back into the country after years of self-exile until a week before polling (having received a royal pardon for charges that he says were politically motivated). Even then he was not allowed to stand for a seat.

What went wrong

Why did Mr Hun Sen fare so badly? An authoritarian by instinct, he has spent years consolidating his grip on power, sometimes brutally. This time round, though, he faced an unusually united opposition: two of the bigger groups, the Sam Rainsy party and the Human Rights party, merged into the CNRP specifically to fight this election. The return of Mr Sam Rainsy, a former finance minister, also galvanised the opposition, as he revealed himself to be an unexpectedly charismatic campaigner.

Most important, however, this election saw a generational shift in attitudes and voting allegiances. Of the 9.5m or so registered voters, more than half were under 30 years old. They were born after the genocidal regime of the Khmer Rouge in the 1970s and the civil wars that followed—the primary reference points for Mr Hun Sen’s political appeal. They were therefore immune to the usual warnings from the CPP that an opposition victory would spell a return to civil conflict. This generation is looking forward, not back, and compares Cambodia with other countries in the region rather than its own dark past.

The younger generation appreciates the economic gains under the CPP in recent years, but it wants more. This election was fought on local issues, which include mounting anger over the granting of land concessions to Chinese and Vietnamese companies, in hock to cronies of the ruling elite.

There is frustration, too, over a widening wealth gap and corruption that favours the politically connected. Mounted on their scooters, armed with social media on their smartphones, the kingdom’s young people voted for change, and in the process reduced the government-run papers and television to the role of a state-propaganda machine capable of impressing only its own supporters. The CPP may have just about hung on in the countryside, but the urban vote and the youth vote must have gone overwhelmingly to the CNRP.

The choices for Mr Hun Sen, who has said that he wants to be prime minister for at least another ten years, are stark. He could reform the CPP, which would include delineating a path for succession and making way for the next generation of leaders, and reach an accommodation with the opposition. Or he could dig his heels in and ignore the message of the election. If he does insist on trying to maintain the status quo, then civil unrest is likely, as is a drubbing at the polls next time around.

Early indications are, however, that Mr Hun Sen intends to be pragmatic and conciliatory, as he is rather more often than his harsher critics allow. In his first, brief post-election remarks he said that he would accept an independent investigation into allegations of electoral fraud and that he was prepared to speak to the opposition, as it was important that the election not divide the country. Such flexibility might yet prolong the career of a humbled but wily political operator. It would also bode well for a changing country straining to escape its past. The Economist

An Australia–Indonesia maritime partnership beyond ‘stopping the boats’

Too often, maritime cooperation between Australia and Indonesia has reflected Australia’s dubious political obsession with ‘boat people’. That has led the two countries to concentrate on non-traditional security issues, particularly people smuggling, as well as illegal fishing and marine pollution. But, in the light of three interrelated trends in the regional strategic environment, both countries should move beyond these priorities and expand their naval defence cooperation

First, as the Australian government recognised in its white paper, Australia in the Asian Century, the world’s economy is gravitating toward Asia. This gives more strategic weight to the region and as a result many Asian countries, including Australia and Indonesia, are modernising their militaries with a priority on maritime capabilities. While military modernisation is a legitimate consequence of Asian countries’ economic rise, it could provoke misunderstanding and miscalculation if it is not undertaken cautiously.

Second, in response to this trend, the United States has engaged in ‘rebalancing’ to maintain regional stability, emphasising Australia’s role as a US ally. Aside from the US Marines deployed in Darwin, the United States will deploy its navy and air force on rotation in Western Australia and the Northern Territory. Some countries are still suspicious of an increased US military presence, especially China. Beijing could respond to the United States by, for example, conducting surveillance activities within the exclusive economic zone of countries that host US military forces, like Australia. This kind of activity would require Chinese submarines to expand into the Indian Ocean through the Indonesian archipelago.

Third, this means Indonesian archipelagic waters could become saturated with foreign maritime forces, particularly along maritime chokepoints like the Sunda and Lombok Straits. Owing to their greater depth and less concentrated commercial shipping traffic than the Malacca Strait, the Sunda and Lombok Straits offer an attractive transit alternative for maritime forces. These maritime areas, however, form the backyards of Australia and Indonesia. For these countries, a collision between opposing submarines or ships could result in politically and militarily destabilising consequences and, not least, create an environmental disaster.

In response to these trends, Australia and Indonesia should deepen naval defence cooperation, especially along their shared maritime boundary.
 At the strategic level, both governments should form a maritime strategic discussion forum to complement the existing meetings of foreign and defence ministers. To start with, both countries could hold more substantive and frank discussions, which would lead to genuine ‘strategic trust’. These discussions would examine the potential implications of Australia’s role in US military rebalancing for Indonesia’s national security, as well as China’s potential military responses to the US ‘pivot’.

More importantly, Indonesia and Australia should consult each other about how to respond to these trends. For example, there should be a consultation about whether and how the two nations could be militarily involved in regional flashpoints such as the territorial disputes in the South and East China Seas.

At the operational and tactical levels, both countries may translate their strategic initiatives into joint operational arrangements. For example, a joint maritime surveillance system could improve mutual situational awareness. This system would include a joint operational command and control centre, which could coordinate intelligence from ships, aircraft and radar systems to generate a common picture of important areas to Australia and Indonesia. Australia’s future acquisitions of high-end surveillance platforms, such as the Triton drones and P-8A Poseidon aircraft, could support Indonesia’s awareness of the waters to its south.

Joint maritime warfare training and exercises could contribute to better cooperation in a combat environment, specifically in undersea warfare. Indonesia could also participate in the US–Australia bilateral security arrangements, such as trilateral naval exercises in the Indian Ocean. As Indonesia and Australia also plan to field a large submarine fleet, they should discuss the possibility of bilateral submarine search and rescue cooperation. Finally, the two nations should contemplate planning their maritime doctrines together.

If these steps are followed, Indonesia and Australia will enjoy smooth operational and tactical collaboration between their maritime forces during joint deployments.

But the success of this partnership is not assured. If it were announced many would protest, arguing that Indonesia had abandoned its ‘free and active’ foreign policy by joining a coalition to contain China’s military rise. Like Australia, Indonesia might well reject choosing between the United States and China. But Indonesia and Australia may find it difficult to maintain this balance. The question will be whether these middle powers can keep the great powers from quarrelling.

Indonesia’s central position along the Indo-Pacific rim makes it very important to both China and the United States. By partnering with Canberra, Jakarta could at least have a cushioning buffer down under from the potential flashpoints to its north.

Ristian Atriandi Supriyanto is a Senior Analyst with the Maritime Security Programme of the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies (RSIS), the Nanyang Technological University. He was a researcher at the Centre for East Asian Cooperation Studies (CEACoS), University of Indonesia.

Trampled rights restrict US-Vietnam ties

Vietnam's aspirations for the future face several hurdles at home and abroad. Although the recent meeting between the heads of state of Vietnam and United States suggests better times ahead, the extent of this progress will depend on the depth of Vietnam's cooperation

The meeting between President Truong Tan Sang of Vietnam and President Barack Obama at the White House last week was neither failure nor success. Only time will tell whether the high profile visit, only Vietnam's second to the US for a head of state, will yield substantive bilateral results. What was clear, however, was that the one-time battlefield adversaries aim broadly to build stronger relations.

The joint statement issued after the meeting was upbeat and forward-looking, as one might expect. The agreed formation of a US-Vietnam Comprehensive Partnership promises to create opportunities for bilateral cooperation in an array of social, political, economic, and technological fields. It also opens the way for the development of a strategic partnership of military-to-military exchanges, a significant development in light of Vietnam's intensifying territorial disputes with neighboring China.

Negotiations for Vietnam's entry into the Trans-Pacific Partnership free-trade pact could be concluded later this year, to the liberalizing benefit of Vietnam, US, Japan and other expected signatories to the US-led deal. The US backed Vietnam's accession to the World Trade Organization in 2007 and bilateral trade has flourished in recent years.

On the important yet sensitive subject of human rights - undoubtedly the primary obstacle to stronger US-Vietnam relations - the two presidents were vaguely said to have had a "candid and open dialogue to enhance mutual understanding and narrow differences on human rights".

Obama came under pressure from various rights groups before the meeting to link progress on rights to future engagement initiatives, though it's not clear that was the message he delivered to Sang. But Vietnam's poor treatment of political dissidents, including an intensifying campaign against on-line journalists and bloggers, and apparent unwillingness to enact serious political reforms has restrained relations with Washington.

It is no mystery that the US's so-called "pivot" to the Asia-Pacific has given new impetus to strengthening ties with Vietnam. In building up relations and reaffirming its strategic commitment to the region, the US sees Vietnam as a potential pivotal strategic partner in its drive to counterbalance China's influence.

The impasse on rights, however, has hampered Vietnam's aspirations on the international stage. In many ways the US operates as a sort of global gatekeeper due to its size and influence, with its diplomatic support providing a sense of legitimacy to a state's international activities. Vietnam is currently bidding to win a seat on the United Nations Human Rights Council, a move local activists are strongly opposing through a concerted appeal to international organizations. Vietnam has also expressed interest in participating in global peacekeeping operations, to which the US has stated its readiness to assist Vietnam "with training and other support for this effort through the Global Peace Operations Initiative".

As Vietnam seeks a larger role regionally and globally, ranging from its roles in the Association of Southeast Asian Nations to the UN, it will increasingly require international recognition of the quality and legitimacy of its leadership. Vietnam is unlikely to find many advocates for either, including in the US. For all of Vietnam's international ambitions, it continues to fall short at home with its own citizens. Before Vietnam can venture beyond its borders and take a position on the world stage, it will first need to address its own domestic shortcomings.

Global ambitions, domestic woes
From entrenched corruption, economic mismanagement, to a sagging economy, as well as the people's distrust of the government's current drive to reform the constitution, Vietnam's domestic problems are well-documented. In particular, the Communist Party-dominated government's abysmal human rights record has plagued US-Vietnam relations, due in part to a very vocal Vietnamese-American community, many of whom fled their birth country after the fall of Saigon in 1975.

That community, ever critical and suspicious of the Communist government's policies and intentions, constitutes a sizeable constituency for certain members in the US Congress, thereby ensuring their voice is heard in US-Vietnam developments. Although this community alone is not enough to maintain Washington's current arms embargo against Vietnam, it can muster enough noise to make sure members of Congress and the Senate do not lose sight of Vietnam's ongoing human rights abuses.

Vietnam cannot lead on the world stage because it not a model nation, certainly not one that embodies the liberal values the UN claims to represent. The detention of bloggers and democratic activists, the limiting of free speech and association, single-party rule, and other transgressions of basic civil liberties are all in violation of the UN's call for universal rights - ideals and principles to which Vietnam, as member of the UN, purportedly acknowledges and supports.

The US made it clear to Vietnam during Sang's visit that without clear and concrete improvements in human rights it will not lift its arms embargo - a key leverage point as Vietnam strives to build up a credible deterrent to China's growing military might. This will not stop the US from broadening and deepening ties with Vietnam in other areas, including military-to-military exchanges.

To be sure, few expect Vietnam to transform itself overnight into a beacon of democracy in Southeast Asia. But the utter failure of the ongoing US-Vietnam dialogue on human rights, including inconsequential meetings held in Hanoi in April, has shown Hanoi is only willing to pay lip service to US concerns on human rights. During his visit, Sang acknowledged that the US and Vietnam do not see eye-to-eye on these issues but claimed that the disagreement would not hamper the development of stronger ties. But as long as Vietnam's leaders lack the support of their own people, US and international support will necessarily be limited.

Khanh Vu Duc is a lawyer and part-time law professor at the University of Ottawa. He researches on Vietnamese politics, international relations and international law. Courtesy Joyo News

A ‘gecko’ with a taste for corruption

One of the more high profile targets of the KPK was the police which attempted to hit back by filing counter charges. In the outcry that followed, the institution was backed by students and the media which ran a pro-gecko campaign that depicted the gecko or the KPK taking on the crocodile or the police. The picture is of the campaign.

Once derisively dismissed as a lizard, Indonesia’s anti-graft agency has become the country’s most popular institution with its 100 per cent conviction rate

In the 15 years since the downfall of military dictator Suharto, Indonesia has emerged as a boisterous democracy. It’s been a laborious, often fraught, process attempting to establish institutions that guarantee a nation run in accordance with the law, rather than the whims of powerful individuals. But the most popular of these institutions today, is not the democratically elected Parliament, nor the executive office of the President; not the once-dominant military, nor the police or judiciary. It is rather, the country’s anti-corruption agency known as the Komisi Pemberantasan Korupsi or KPK, a lithe, sharp-fanged outfit, with the kinds of powers that would have Anna Hazare and his supporters swooning in delight. 

Even-handed

 

As in many developing countries, corruption in the public sector and politics is among the most pressing popular concerns in Indonesia. The country ranked 118 out of 176 in Transparency International’s 2012, Corruption Perceptions Index, well behind India’s 94th position. Yet, while recent years have seen large-scale civil society protests against corruption, in nations ranging from India and Brazil, to Turkey and Egypt, Indonesia’s streets have been relatively quiescent.

One major reason for this difference is the KPK. Since it began operating in 2004, the KPK has investigated and prosecuted well over 300 cases, including dozens of members of Parliament, ministers, heads of government agencies, governors, mayors, judges and police officers. It has an astonishing 100 per cent conviction rate and has recovered state assets worth hundreds of millions of dollars. 

The jail terms and fines secured by the KPK have real bite. For example, only last month, Zulkarnaen Djabar, an MP from the opposition Golkar Party and a member of a House of Representatives Commission overseeing religious affairs, was sentenced to 15 years in prison and fined $30,000. He was convicted for his role in the rigging of the tender for the procurement of Korans at the Ministry for Religious Affairs. 

Other high profile examples of recent KPK “victims” include Anas Urbaningrum, the former chairman of the ruling party, Partai Demokrat (PD), who was forced to resign from his post in February this year, after being named a graft suspect for allegedly taking bribes in relation to the construction of a sports complex. Former youth and sports minister, Andi Mallarangeng, had resigned a few months earlier in connection with the same case, making him the first sitting cabinet member to be named as a suspect by the KPK. 

“We have seen the KPK going after opposition politicians and incumbents equally,” says Endy Bayuni, a political analyst and former editor of the Jakarta Post newspaper. “That’s what has ensured their popularity amongst the people. They are not seen as picking and choosing their enemies. They’ve taken everyone on.” The flip side of this even-handedness is that the KPK is left with few friends, outside of the media and civil society. 

Challenges

 

Parliament retains budgetary control over the organisation (last year, it had a budgetary ceiling of around $6 million, of which it spent just over half) and also needs to confirm the appointment of KPK’s five commissioners. In recent years, the house of representatives has attempted to pass legislation that would curtail the anti-corruption body’s powers. 

So far, the KPK has fended off these challenges. “The public supports us and when the Parliament tries to curb our activities, they are seen as having something to hide,” smiles Bambang Widjojanto, one of the KPK’s sitting commissioners. “We must be creative,” he adds, citing the example of Parliament’s efforts to withhold funding for a new KPK building. 

KPK personnel number around 700, but their current offices cannot house more than 450 people. Nonetheless, Parliament had refused for many years to authorise the funds for a new headquarters, with the result that the KPK decided to seek public donations via civil society allies. “We got creative,” chuckles Mr. Widjojanto. Shamed by the $40,000 collected by non-governmental organisations for the cause, Parliament finally gave approval earlier this year for the extra funds. 

Run-in with police

 

A more dangerous opponent has been the police. Once the KPK began going after high-level corrupt police officers, the police force hit back by framing two commissioners on corruption charges, back in 2009. A massive public outcry followed, with street demonstrations in support of the KPK, the likes of which had not been seen since the days of Suharto’s toppling. 

At the time, police chief detective Susno Duadji (himself a corruption suspect) compared the KPK to a vulnerable cicak (gecko) fighting a mighty buaya (crocodile), the police. The comment backfired. Students staged pro-gecko demonstrations, many newspapers ran cartoons with geckos lining up against an ugly crocodile and references to geckos fighting a crocodile have since become an integral part of the political imagery of Indonesia. 

Eventually, the Indonesian President was forced to set up an independent commission of inquiry that exonerated the two commissioners of all charges. 

Its powers

 

Unlike many anti-corruption organisations, it has the power to both investigate and prosecute. It is also allowed to conduct searches, make seizures, freeze assets, ban suspects from foreign travel, and intercept telecommunications, all without judicial approval. It can initiate cases without permission from any other governmental authority. KPK cases are tried by a special anti-corruption court that ensures speedy trials and are usually concluded within a year’s time.

Activism and governance

 

Unsurprisingly, many in Indonesia believe the KPK’s powers to be too wide-ranging. Dewi Fortuna Anwar, an analyst and adviser to the Vice-President, claims that the KPK’s activism has become a deterrent to honest government officials taking a risk. “Bureaucrats don’t want to touch infrastructure projects and many are delayed as a result,” she says, blaming fear of KPK investigation. 

“Why are they afraid?” counters Mr Widjojanto. “If they are not corrupt they have nothing to fear.” He alludes to careful pre-investigation procedures that ensure a solid case before formal investigations are launched, which he credits with the agency’s 100 per cent conviction record.

Regardless, he admits that what the KPK achieves is only a drop in an ocean of corruption. In Indonesia, electoral democracy and decentralisation has also democratised corruption, with the power to dispense patronage and favours having expanded to include provincial and district officials who are now relatively autonomous actors. This is the font of the common joke, that while under Suharto, corruption was under the table, today, corruption includes the table. 

Teten Masduki, one of the founders of the NGO, Indonesia Corruption Watch, points to the financing needs of party electioneering as a fundamental cause for continued political corruption. Nonetheless, he credits the KPK with having ended a culture of impunity. “Even if you are very powerful, you can no longer be sure that you will get away with it,” he says. “The KPK has given people hope.”  (The Hindu)