UMW Regional GeogBlog

It's not bribery, it's anticipatory gratitude. (The bar is in Sihanoukville, Cambodia)

“Two men appeared before a Gaborone Village magistrate charged with “living beyond their means”, an offence contrary to Section 34 of the Corruption and Economic Crime Act Cap 08:05, Laws of Botswana.It is alleged that Victor Basinyi, aged 34, and Omphitlhetse Mmoloki Tsime, 26, on the 12th May 2004 in Gaborone, were found in possession and control of assets that reflected a standard of living that was not commensurate with their present or past known sources of income or assets. The accused failed to give a satisfactory explanation as to how they were able to maintain such a standard of living, or how so much money and property came under their control or possession.”
Botswana Gazette, November 24, 2009.

__________

Some of the Lexus SUVs I photographed in the space of 30 minutes around Phnom Penh's Central Market, January 2010.

I rather suspect that, were Botswana’s Corruption and Economic Crime Act to apply in Cambodia, more than a few Cambodians would run afoul of it. Exhibit A in just about every trial under the Act would be a Lexus SUV. Nowhere in the world have I ever seen so many of them as I have in Phnom Penh. And in many of them, displayed on the dashboard, is card identifying the driver as a government – and frequently a military – official. Some of these vehicles have government license plates but most do not; they are the personal property of the government officials driving them.

To put this in context: according to the World Bank, Cambodia’s Gross National Income per capita was $600 in 2008. Around 70 percent of the country’s population is engaged in subsistence farming. 35 percent of the population live below the country’s official poverty line. Of the 182 countries ranked the the United Nations Development program on the basis of their Human Development Index, Cambodia comes in at number 137. But mid-level government bureaucrats can afford Lexus SUVs. It just doesn’t pass the smell test.

But here is a clue: just two weeks ago, Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen announced the formation of 42 “official partnerships” between the military and private businesses. A government memo explains that the partnerships will help “solve the dire situation of the armed forces, police, military police, and their families through a culture of sharing.” Well, that explains the Lexuses; it’s all about sharing.

In a 2009 report the group Global Witness offered its explanation:

“Cambodia today is a country for sale. Having made their fortunes from logging much of the country’s forest resources, Cambodia’s elite have diversified their commercial interests to encompass other forms of state assets. These include land, fisheries, tropical islands and beaches, minerals and petroleum. The country is rapidly being parcelled up and sold off. Over the past 15 years, 45 per cent of the country’s land has been purchased by private interests. The economic wisdom of the sell-off has yet to be proven. The social and environmental consequences have already been devastating.”

Rights to exploit oil and mineral resources have, according to Global Witness, “been allocated behind closed doors by a small number of powerbrokers surrounding the prime minister and other senior officials.”

In the interests of full disclosure, I should note that I have never witnessed any corruption first-hand in Cambodia (unless you count a request from an immigration official at Phnom Penh airport for “a dollar for a cup of coffee”) although I have ridden in the Lexuses of a military police officer and a university deanlet. But I have heard and read allegations of corruption from Cambodians from all walks of life.  From a taxi driver who reports on persuading police officers to overlook traffic violations in exchange for small gifts.  From a student quoted in today’s Phom Penh Post: “I have had experience with corruption since I was in high school [when] I gave money to the teachers to cheat on the exams.” (“How else can they survive?” a Cambodian asks me. “They aren’t paid enough to live on.”) From a report in yesterday’s paper in which a shantytown resident tells of firefighters letting her home burn to the ground while saving the home of a neighbor who paid them a bribe (a Cambodian friend tells me that this is common fire department practice.)

Part of the shantytown destroyed by fire in Phnom Penh this week. The area is slated for 'development' and residents will not be allowed to return.

Actually, the whole shantytown burned down; I saw the flames as I passed by a few nights ago, and visited the area the following day. The fire destroyed 158 homes as well as a dormitory housing Buddhist monks at a neighboring temple. The neighborhood in question had apparently been targeted for removal for some time, but residents had successfully resisted pressures to move. Now, fortuitously for the authorities, the shantytown has gone, and officials were quick to announce that residents will not be allowed to rebuild their homes. The eviction of poor city residents is not something new; the BBC reported in 2006 on a pattern of “slum clearance” followed by the building of upmarket housing projects by politically well-connected developers.

The anti-corruption group Transparency International lends credibility to allegations of widespread corruption in Cambodia. In its 2009 Corruption Perceptions Index, the country comes 158th out of 180 countries ranked (New Zealand is the least corrupt country at number 1, Afghanistan and Somalia are at the bottom of the list.) According to US Ambassador Carol A. Rodney, corruption costs Cambodia $500 million a year, enough to build 20,000 six-room schools or pay every civil servant $260 per month.

But perhaps help is on the way. Cambodia’s parliament yesterday passed a government-sponsored anti-corruption law (fifteen years after such a measure was first proposed.) The law will create a commission to keep tabs on corruption in the private sector and in government. The Commission’s members will be appointed by the government and report to the government. Government officials would be required to report their assets to the Government, but these reports would be kept secret. I suspect that Phnom Penh’s Lexus fleet is in no danger.