Cambodia jostles with its neighbour Vietnam for the position of the most intolerant towards freedom of speech (see post dated September 25). On October 1, 2012 Mam Sonando, a 71 year-old radio journalist and entrepreneur was sentenced to a 20 year prison sentence for "planning an insurrection". The US Department of State expressed deep concern over the arrest, which was directly ordered by Prime Minister Hun Sen in June. It points out that a number of observers in Cambodia "have noted that the charges against him appear to have been politically-motivated, based on his frequent criticism of the government". The same sentiments were expresses by Dr Agnes Callamard, who is the Executive Director of the human rights organisation Article 19:
"Mam Sonando's conviction is unfounded. He has done nothing but exercise his right to freedom of expression. The government's linking him to a fabricated secessionist movement and court's unjustified verdict, is a clear move to silence Sonando and to send a threatening message to other critical voices."
What these oppressive governments or regimes do not understand is the fact that power, or even peace, can never be lasting when coupled with shame. Human dignity will eventually rise up against it. By suppressing dialogue these "rulers" are sacrificing the future for the present and the present for a more distant future. A future that will not fail to resent them for their cruelty and lack of vision.
Ozymandias
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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