Nation, Religion, King

Three words are emblazoned on the top of every official document, the defining words for Cambodia: Nation, Religion, King. How different from Britain!

Cambodians seem clear about their national identity. Sandwiched between the giants of Vietnam and Thailand (both with more people and land than the UK), and overshadowed by the might of China, Cambodia appears small, poor and under-populated. But the Khmers have a long and proud history, and won’t let anyone forget it!

Yet healthy national identity can spill into ugly nationalism. Pol Pot established the khmer rouge in Vietnam, but then demonized and murdered anyone linked to that country. Vietnam then ‘liberated’ Cambodia, but many feel outstayed their welcome during the 1980s. Many ethnic Khmers live in the Mekong delta, even though it has been Vietnamese for years, and border disputes drove the main opposition leader, Sam Rainsy, into exile in France. Similarly, trade with Thailand is crucial, prices in my village are quoted in baat, and many poor Cambodians cross the border to work. Most of my neighbours lived in Thai refugee camps, and retain close links. And yet, with elections looming, Cambodian troops are facing off with Thai soldiers not far from my village.

For Brits, nation is a particularly challenging concept, as many of us can’t decide where we’re from. Glancing at my passport I see a European Union standard, which later blurts ‘United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland’. Is that British? Here in Cambodia I can’t say I’m British – I don’t think the word even exists in Khmer. I’m generally referred to as a barraing, which actually means French. I spent nearly all my adult life in Scotland. But I say I’m English – it’s easier in Khmer, probably more accurate, and occasionally draws comparisons with David Beckham, for which I’d happily sell both my soul and my visa.

Perhaps our confused nationality makes us suspicious of nationalism. Wrap yourself in the union jack and you’re clearly a fascist nutcase. It’s hard for me to accept that other countries have a normal, healthy relationship with their flag. In Cambodia there is bunting everywhere, proudly boasting the state symbol, the world’s largest religious monument: Angkor Wat. (Do you know any other country with any building, particularly a religious monument, on its national flag?).

And so to Religion which, like nation, holds a key place in Cambodian identity. Nearly everyone here calls themselves buddhist. There are a few muslims, despite the genocidal attempts of the Khmer Rouge, and a small number of christian converts overseeing a scattering of empty wooden churches.

Buddhism here seems to be more of a loose framework than an active belief system. Co-operation and non-violence provide a basic ethical framework, but it’s kind of flexible. The sanctity of life, for example, is a key cornerstone of buddhism. So how does that fit with the unimaginable killing and cruelty which Cambodians inflicted on fellow countrymen here within our lifetime? Even now soldiers are easily sacrificed in a petty border scuffle (ironically over a buddhist temple), and Cambodia’s unregulated roads and inadequate hospitals produce daily carnage - not to mention a convenient blind eye to the fact that buddhists are not meant to kill animals. Perhaps life is cheap in all poor countries?

But whilst religion as a moral guide is loosely interpreted here, it does play an important role in defining holidays, celebrating rites of passage, educating some young boys and providing a form of social safety net. Yet can it really be the best use of scarce resources to build sparkling temples and feed chanting monks, even whilst ordinary folk live in wooden shacks and barely afford rice?

For British people there is again an interesting comparison. Christianity in my home country is similarly light-touch, celebrated more in the breach than the observance. No surprise that the 2011 Social Attitudes Survey confirmed that for the first time a majority (51%) of Britons are not religious. We still have Sundays off, not for church but because we all need a day of rest. We celebrate the birth of Santa at Christmas and pray for chocolate at Easter. The Queen is head of the established Church of England, Defender of the Faith.

And so to monarchy, the third of the trinity. Vietnam, Laos and China to the east and north, ditched their hereditary emperors years ago, but Cambodia is still officially a monarchy. Thankfully the approach is very different to Thailand to the west, which has one of the last remaining god-kings and where lèse-majesté laws promise long bookings in the Bangkok Hilton.

Here in Cambodia the royal family have clung on despite their chequered history, including striking a deal with the Khmer Rouge whilst thousands of subjects died in the killing fields. They have settled into a relatively harmless, ceremonial role: the King pops out from his pretty palace now and then to sign off laws, whilst strongman prime minister Hun Sen wields all the power.

It’s a nice, rather British compromise. It hard to justify a system where ordinary people can’t be elected as head of their state, but does it matter? The British monarch, like her Cambodian cousin, has no real power, and the royals are slowly withering, despite the popularity of Will and Kate’s wedding day off.

Nation, Religion, King – would it be out of place at the top of an official UK document? We'd take it with a pinch of salt and a sprinkling of healthy scepticism. In Cambodia too the concepts are nicely diluted, strong beer but with plenty of ice. How else would I feel so comfortable here - despite being an internationalist, atheist, republican?