By Dr. A. Gaffar Peang-Meth
Guam Pacific Daily News
June 2, 2010
My columns on culturally embedded behaviors common among the Khmers have led some readers to react spontaneously to comments they see as an attack.
But a considered analysis is distinct from an attack, which many have appreciated. A Western reader thinks I have dealt with an aspect relevant to the situation in which Cambodia finds herself. And so I will expand a bit on the same topic today.
Once a regionally powerful empire, the Khmer Empire of Angkor collapsed in 1434, its royal capital sacked in 1431 by neighboring Ayudhya to the West. Khmer kings moved the capital between Chaktomuk (the "Four Faces" in Phnom Penh) and Longvek, aka Lovek, and Oudong until 1866, when King Norodom moved his royal court back to Chaktomuk.
When the French colonialists arrived in 1882, Khmer elitist conservatives already produced poems, advice and codes of behavior, teaching respect for customs, traditions, the establishment and authority.
Years of teaching thus molded ways of thought and a culture that rewards unconditional respect, obedience, loyalty and embedded acceptance of leader-follower, superior-inferior, patron-client relationships.
Unlike the French revolutionaries, who turned radical and brought down the French traditions and institutions, the Khmer revolt took the form of amusing folk tales -- revolutionary, as they belittle wealthy aristocrats, palace officials, the king, the Buddhist monks; and popular, as they appeal to the sentiments and touch the hearts of the people, then and now.
In the folk stories, two insolent boys, A Chey and A Lev, from poor families, ride roughshod over the old world, represented by elitist codes of behavior called "Chbab Kram," or "Codes of Civility"; "Chbab Srey," or "Codes of Conduct for Women"; and "Chbab Koeng Kantrai," that makes the king the final and supreme judge. The boys are abetted by "Sophea Tunsay," the "Wise Rabbit," wicked, cunning, deceptive, witty and tricky, who acts as judge.
To gain revenge against a wealthy aristocrat, the Sethi, whom A Chey thought had duped him to choose a flat-bottomed, large basket over a deep, smaller basket containing more pulverized rice grains, A Chey begged his mother to borrow money from the Sethi and offer him as the Sethi's servant. Armed with Buddhist-instilled demeanor -- respectful, acquiescent and responsive -- A Chey shamed the Sethi at every turn and nearly bankrupted him, materially and mentally.
To the instruction to talk softly, A Chey moved his lips, making incomprehensible sounds when he alerting the Sethi his house caught fire; he made a fortune betting with palace officials that he could order the king to do what he wanted: He begged the king to turn his head just a little and the king did. A Chey bet that the king's order forbidding him from entering the palace would be reversed: He insulted the Head Buddhist Monk entering the palace and the Monk, furious, petitioned the king, who ordered A Chey be brought into the palace for questioning.
The unethical A Lev found customs and traditions of no value and sought all means to justify the ends. He wanted a wife, so he kidnapped one. He told her a marriage proposal takes long, may or may not be accepted, which is a waste of time. Elope now, have a traditional wedding later!
In love with an aristocrat's daughter, he concocted an elaborate scheme through lies and deception until the aristocrat gave his daughter as A Lev's wife.
A Lev desecrated Buddhism. He corrupted a monk by instilling sexual desire into the monk and told a neighbor he can find him a woman for a fee. A Lev then arranged for the monk and the neighbor, each with their heads covered with a cloth, to meet on a dark night, then blackmailed the monk for money.
The rabbit? He played dead in the path of an old woman carrying a basket of bananas on her head. Thinking it was her luck to have a rabbit for dinner, she picked him up and tossed him into the basket. The rabbit ate his fill and jumped off.
A Chey's antics were more sophisticated than A Lev's. A Lev and Sophea Tunsay had no scruples about how to attain an end, using wiles and street smarts. Here are some excerpts from the tales.
A judge rabbit? A crocodile crawled on a path from a dried-up lake, looking for a new place with water. He begged an old man driving an ox-cart to transport him. Afraid of falling off, he asked the man to tie him to the cart. Reaching a lake with water, the crocodile, who hadn't eaten for days, demanded the man's ox as the price for tying him too tightly, causing him pain. Frightened, the old man proposed to find a judge, for he had done no harm to the crocodile.
Bananas in hand, the old man went crying, looking for a judge. A rabbit saw the bananas, a conversation ensued and the rabbit agreed to act as judge.
Back at the ox-cart, where the crocodile was waiting, the rabbit asked the man and the crocodile to re-enact the scene. After the old man tied the crocodile to the cart and the crocodile could no longer move, judge rabbit told the man to hack up the ungrateful crocodile for food.
Today's Khmer customs view a rabbit as deceptive, tricky and untrustworthy, and a crocodile as ungrateful.
So, the Khmer elitist literature teaches codes of behavior, respect, obedience and loyalty; the popular folk tales tell the opposite. A dichotomy of personalities emerges: Respectful, obedient, loyal as society requires, while A Chey, A Lev and Sophea Tunsay hunker down and wait to surface.
A. Gaffar Peang-Meth, Ph.D., is retired from the University of Guam, where he taught political science for 13 years. Write him at peangmeth@yahoo.com.
Guam Pacific Daily News
June 2, 2010
My columns on culturally embedded behaviors common among the Khmers have led some readers to react spontaneously to comments they see as an attack.
But a considered analysis is distinct from an attack, which many have appreciated. A Western reader thinks I have dealt with an aspect relevant to the situation in which Cambodia finds herself. And so I will expand a bit on the same topic today.
Once a regionally powerful empire, the Khmer Empire of Angkor collapsed in 1434, its royal capital sacked in 1431 by neighboring Ayudhya to the West. Khmer kings moved the capital between Chaktomuk (the "Four Faces" in Phnom Penh) and Longvek, aka Lovek, and Oudong until 1866, when King Norodom moved his royal court back to Chaktomuk.
When the French colonialists arrived in 1882, Khmer elitist conservatives already produced poems, advice and codes of behavior, teaching respect for customs, traditions, the establishment and authority.
Years of teaching thus molded ways of thought and a culture that rewards unconditional respect, obedience, loyalty and embedded acceptance of leader-follower, superior-inferior, patron-client relationships.
Unlike the French revolutionaries, who turned radical and brought down the French traditions and institutions, the Khmer revolt took the form of amusing folk tales -- revolutionary, as they belittle wealthy aristocrats, palace officials, the king, the Buddhist monks; and popular, as they appeal to the sentiments and touch the hearts of the people, then and now.
In the folk stories, two insolent boys, A Chey and A Lev, from poor families, ride roughshod over the old world, represented by elitist codes of behavior called "Chbab Kram," or "Codes of Civility"; "Chbab Srey," or "Codes of Conduct for Women"; and "Chbab Koeng Kantrai," that makes the king the final and supreme judge. The boys are abetted by "Sophea Tunsay," the "Wise Rabbit," wicked, cunning, deceptive, witty and tricky, who acts as judge.
To gain revenge against a wealthy aristocrat, the Sethi, whom A Chey thought had duped him to choose a flat-bottomed, large basket over a deep, smaller basket containing more pulverized rice grains, A Chey begged his mother to borrow money from the Sethi and offer him as the Sethi's servant. Armed with Buddhist-instilled demeanor -- respectful, acquiescent and responsive -- A Chey shamed the Sethi at every turn and nearly bankrupted him, materially and mentally.
To the instruction to talk softly, A Chey moved his lips, making incomprehensible sounds when he alerting the Sethi his house caught fire; he made a fortune betting with palace officials that he could order the king to do what he wanted: He begged the king to turn his head just a little and the king did. A Chey bet that the king's order forbidding him from entering the palace would be reversed: He insulted the Head Buddhist Monk entering the palace and the Monk, furious, petitioned the king, who ordered A Chey be brought into the palace for questioning.
The unethical A Lev found customs and traditions of no value and sought all means to justify the ends. He wanted a wife, so he kidnapped one. He told her a marriage proposal takes long, may or may not be accepted, which is a waste of time. Elope now, have a traditional wedding later!
In love with an aristocrat's daughter, he concocted an elaborate scheme through lies and deception until the aristocrat gave his daughter as A Lev's wife.
A Lev desecrated Buddhism. He corrupted a monk by instilling sexual desire into the monk and told a neighbor he can find him a woman for a fee. A Lev then arranged for the monk and the neighbor, each with their heads covered with a cloth, to meet on a dark night, then blackmailed the monk for money.
The rabbit? He played dead in the path of an old woman carrying a basket of bananas on her head. Thinking it was her luck to have a rabbit for dinner, she picked him up and tossed him into the basket. The rabbit ate his fill and jumped off.
A Chey's antics were more sophisticated than A Lev's. A Lev and Sophea Tunsay had no scruples about how to attain an end, using wiles and street smarts. Here are some excerpts from the tales.
A judge rabbit? A crocodile crawled on a path from a dried-up lake, looking for a new place with water. He begged an old man driving an ox-cart to transport him. Afraid of falling off, he asked the man to tie him to the cart. Reaching a lake with water, the crocodile, who hadn't eaten for days, demanded the man's ox as the price for tying him too tightly, causing him pain. Frightened, the old man proposed to find a judge, for he had done no harm to the crocodile.
Bananas in hand, the old man went crying, looking for a judge. A rabbit saw the bananas, a conversation ensued and the rabbit agreed to act as judge.
Back at the ox-cart, where the crocodile was waiting, the rabbit asked the man and the crocodile to re-enact the scene. After the old man tied the crocodile to the cart and the crocodile could no longer move, judge rabbit told the man to hack up the ungrateful crocodile for food.
Today's Khmer customs view a rabbit as deceptive, tricky and untrustworthy, and a crocodile as ungrateful.
So, the Khmer elitist literature teaches codes of behavior, respect, obedience and loyalty; the popular folk tales tell the opposite. A dichotomy of personalities emerges: Respectful, obedient, loyal as society requires, while A Chey, A Lev and Sophea Tunsay hunker down and wait to surface.
A. Gaffar Peang-Meth, Ph.D., is retired from the University of Guam, where he taught political science for 13 years. Write him at peangmeth@yahoo.com.
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