Do Cambodia’s 2023 Elections Matter?

As Cambodia heads toward national elections on July 23, the central question seems to be whether they matter, and if so how, given that the results – at least in terms of the winner – are preordained. Prime Minister Hun Sen’s Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) has taken its long-standing domination of the political scene to new heights, and into the future, both repressing the resurrected opposition Candlelight Party and dramatically increasing in popularity over the past electoral term.

Elections perform functions beyond simply designating a winner, however, and in authoritarian contexts these are numerous. Complicating the picture is the ambiguous nature of Cambodia’s upcoming election, which differs from previous polls. From 1993 to 2013, electoral competition was skewed but real, and carried a democratic promise in the eyes of the population. That changed with the dissolution in 2017 of the country’s main opposition party, the Cambodia National Rescue Party (CNRP), and the following 2018 elections, a one-horse race in which the act of voting became a symbol of loyalty to the CPP and which produced a one-party parliament.

July’s elections may either perpetuate the CPP’s sole representation in parliament or result in the reestablishment of a parliamentary opposition. Either way, the new pattern of rule put in place from 2017-18 onwards, in which there is no real competition, will be solidified. The latter scenario would open up a gray zone: Even if a parliamentary opposition is reestablished, it will likely not be able to function as a counterweight to the CPP.

How the Election Matters

The main way in which July’s election matters is in how it will provide a vehicle for a  leadership succession within the ruling party. The election will formally mark a generational transition of first- to second-generation CPP leaders, enabling the handover of power to the scions of the current government and sanctifying it with a popular vote. This is a momentous event after four decades of stable rule by the first generation CPP leaders, who were ensconced in power in January 1979, after helping the Vietnamese overthrow the murderous Khmer Rouge government.

A transition has been in the works for more than a decade, and many of the newer generation leaders already hold positions in government. However, July’s election promises a near-complete changing of the guard. The electorally transcribed transition is portentous not only for bringing four decades of rule under one set of leaders to an end. It will also likely inaugurate a long-lasting new era under the rule of their scions, conceivably for decades to come.

The incoming second-generation CPP leaders, many of whom have been educated abroad, have a different self-image, and a partly different outlook on the world, than that of their parents of the revolutionary fighter (neak tosour) generation. This self-image is at least presently marked by self-scrutiny, and reflection on this generation’s own historical role and mission, articulated in tandem with the legacy building of their elders. Self-conscious in this way, the new generation is absorbed by questions of identity: their own, as well as that of the nation.

The country’s incoming leadership is united by one overriding project: the belief that they can ride, and steer, the wave of rising Khmer pride high above the country’s political divisions, leading all in a consensual national gathering in which the act of dissent will be perverse.

The recent display of nearly 4 million hand-made origami hearts at Angkor Wat, put in place for the Khmer New Year “Angkor Sankranta” celebration, brings these dynamics into sharp relief. Making up a giant heart as well as the word “Khmer” in front of the UNESCO World Heritage Site, they won Cambodia another Guinness World Record. They are also the most grandiose expression of the “Hearts Beat in Sync” slogan of “Beyond the Games,” a campaign set in motion by the Union of Youth Federations of Cambodia (UYFC), headed by Hun Sen’s son Hun Many, for the 2023 Southeast Asian Games (SEA Games) that will be held in Phnom Penh this month.

Beyond their visual grandeur, the hearts may be understood as a romantic proposal to Cambodia by the incoming generation of leaders ahead of the arranged marriage to come. The incoming leadership is offering a declaration of intent to shift the tone of political discourse, in favor of one that incorporates anyone and everyone into the new national project, pre-empting the thought, or recognition, of violence.

After July’s electorally sanctioned change of guard, and quite independent of the outcome of the election, old political repertoires will remain in place. Since the surprise opposition surge at the 2013 elections, the CPP went against the current and insisted on what the voters appeared to have doomed as outmoded – notably the party’s request for gratitude for liberation from the Khmer Rouge, and a political sentimentality based on protection, loyalty, and gifts. Those legacies will form the bedrock of the incoming government, which after the election will watch over the “fighter generation” legacy of peace epitomized by the now ubiquitous slogan, “Thank you, peace.”

In March, the “Board of comrades in arms from the 1978 generation,” led by Hun Sen, Deputy Prime Minister Men Sam An, and Head of the Royal Gendarmerie Sao Sokha, was created and tasked with “protecting historical achievements,” assisting former solders financially, and assembling the soldiers who served under Hun Sen in 1978. The newly created Techo 125 Foundation, named after one of Hun Sen’s honorifics and the creation day of the National Salvation Front, distributes money to the soldiers; in March, the Chip Mong Group, a prominent local conglomerate, donated $500,000 to it. The same month, Men Sam An received the title of Samdech, the highest title one can be bestowed. Such initiatives indicate an undercurrent of militarization of political life to come, accompanying the dawning era of gratitude for military-secured peace.

Hun Sen’s designated successor, his oldest son Hun Manet, is a military man, economist, and politician, who serves as the commander of the Royal Cambodian Army. Together with his wife, Pich Chanmony, Hun Manet further built his reputation by heading the fight against the COVID-19 pandemic at the helm of the Samdech Techo Voluntary Youth Doctor Association (TYDA). The incoming first family is now widely known to the public, who can follow their life through social media posts. The timeline of Hun Manet’s ascension has not been revealed, and whether it will take place in connection with the upcoming election or, perhaps more likely, sometime after; Hun Sen has merely stated that all of the previous generation leaders will have to be replaced.

What, then, are the challenges to the new order that the elections will put in place? Some observers have predicted that factional divisions will surface within the CPP in connection with the transition, alleging a rift between Hun Sen and Defense Minister Tea Banh. Yet the fact that dynastic succession will take place within each of the key ministries ensures that, although discussion may remain about particular appointments, these do not pose a challenge to the overall succession plan and Hun Manet’s future premiership.

Significantly, Tea Banh and his network have tied their political legacy to that of Hun Sen, taking charge of constructing monuments and sites defining that legacy for posteriority. However, the transition might weaken the traditional rival faction associated with Interior Minister Sar Kheng. Rumors have it that following the elections some of the ministry’s key powers will be transferred to a newly created ministry. If that comes to pass, Kheng’s son Sar Sokha, who is set to succeed his father as minister, will be powerless to resist the whittling away of his ministry’s power.

A greater challenge may come from the realization that a new, and likely static, order is being put into place for the decades to come. That process, even within the overall hegemonic context, provokes fleeting resentment among the masses left behind, as well as state insiders and CPP loyalists overlooked or bypassed by the generational transition. This is compounded by how the incoming leaders until now have articulated a fundamentally future-oriented vision of the Cambodia they wish to build. This sailed well in the last electoral term, when the present was often too controversial to talk about. Adjusting the clock to address issues in real time will bring new tensions.

A second way in which July’s election matters is in how it may restore the presence of a parliamentary opposition, and perhaps even relegitimize its existence. The Candlelight Party (CLP), previously and better known as the Sam Rainsy Party (SRP), was resurrected in 2021. Despite the impossible political climate that has existed since the dissolution of the CNRP in 2017, it managed to secure 22.3 percent of the popular vote in commune elections last year. Those figures imply that the CLP, if allowed to compete in July, should be able to gain a sizeable portion of the vote. For comparison, in 2012, the SRP won 20.8 percent of the vote in commune elections, before delivering a major challenge to the CPP at the 2013 national election, by merging with Kem Sokha’s Human Rights Party to form the CNRP.

Kem Sokha’s harsh sentencing to 27 years’ imprisonment in March on charges of treason preempts other, more complex scenarios that could have followed from his (even partial) political rehabilitation, in the wake of the development of a real rift separating him from Sam Rainsy. A royal pardon ahead of the elections remains a technical possibility, but prospects seem remote.

Kem Sokha loyalists do not appear to have been swayed to vote for the CLP in 2022; winning those votes in July, given the absence of a Sokha-sanctioned alternative, could significantly boost the CLP’s prospects. The commune election results also showed that the smaller opposition parties, which altogether won a little over 3 percent of the popular vote, were not able to attract former CNRP voters. This lessens the significance of a series of defections to the government in recent months, including from the minor Grassroots Democracy Party, which may or may not lead to the crumbling of an electoral alliance between CLP and minor opposition parties – however demoralizing the defections may be.

The CLP, if it gains traction, or even just remains at current levels of activity and support, certainly still risks being dissolved or disintegrated through legal blows ahead of July. If, on the other hand, the CLP is permitted to compete in July’s elections, and, as in 2022, hits a sweet spot by winning a number of seats palatable to the CPP, its presence in the National Assembly may carve out some space for opposition there. The key significance of such a scenario might be that it could with time relegitimize the idea of a parliamentary opposition, which has been so completely undermined during the current electoral term.

A third way in which the elections are significant is in terms of Cambodia’s foreign relations. The mere holding of elections may (despite the recent historical record) go a long way to signal democratic procedure and offer a quick means of restoring the CPP government’s external legitimacy, particularly at time when foreign powers are eager to give the benefit of the doubt. The 2018 sham elections were condemned as such by Western countries, but this year’s more opaque situation, and possible electoral participation by the CLP, will allow for a less critical stance.

Geopolitics favors this dynamic. First, Cambodia has taken a pro-Ukrainian stance versus Russia, leading to a significant warming of relations with countries such as France.

Second, European countries increasingly estimate that the need to counter China’s influence over Cambodia should take precedence over considerations about the domestic political situation. This has been accompanied by a dawning realization that it may be the end of the line in the unsuccessful attempt to use the Everything But Arms (EBA) trade scheme as political leverage, which resulted in its partial withdrawal in 2020.

An EU Parliament resolution last year raised the prospect of a complete revocation of EBA privileges in the absence of free and fair elections in 2023. In December, Josep Borrell, the EU high representative for foreign affairs and security policy and vice president of the European Commission, tweeted that he had discussed with Cambodian Foreign Minister Prak Sokhonn on how “opening political space for Cambodia’s 2023 election can help re-establish [the] full EBA trade regime.” The suggestion was shot down by Hun Sen, who pointed out that Cambodia’s exports to Europe had risen by 18 percent over the past year, regardless of the partial suspension of EBA.

How the Election Does Not Matter 

A key indicator of how little July’s election matters to the ordinary Cambodian voter is the domestic quiet surrounding them. Not only are the elections absent from public discourse; they are hardly talked about among friends or in the street. Partly, this reflects the preordained nature of their outcome. The political events of 2017-18 conclusively communicated that there will be no change in government via elections. Incremental political change, through the reestablishment of a weak parliamentary opposition, is not an exciting enough prospect to raise the public’s enthusiasm.

The political quiet also points to the building of different domestic legitimacy bases. The CPP has increased dramatically in popularity over the current electoral term, basking in the glory of its successful pandemic management, including its world-leading COVID-19 vaccination roll-out and successful ASEAN chairmanship in 2022. The Khmer New Year celebration Angkor Sankranta, celebrated in Siem Reap in April, and the SEA Games in Phnom Penh later this month, have been decidedly bigger affairs than the upcoming elections. The fact that both events are presented as apolitical, but deeply imbued with political meaning, points to the incipient success of the government’s nationalistic strategy.

Preparations for this month’s 32nd SEA Games have been a celebration of Cambodian pride steeped in recent political history. The Morodok Techo (“Heritage of Samdech Techo Hun Sen”) National Stadium, built for the purpose, stands in front of the Win-Win Monument, inaugurated in 2018, which celebrates Hun Sen’s achievements as peacemaker. (Both the stadium and monument appear on the medals that will be given to athletes.) In March, King Norodom Sihamoni presided over a torch-lighting ceremony at Angkor Wat to ask for the successful conduct of the SEA Games.

Cambodia has announced that the kickboxing competition will be called “Kun Khmer” rather than “Muay Thai,” pointing to the sport’s Cambodian origin. When Brazilian-born sportsman Thiago Teixeira, who promotes Kun Khmer, was stripped of his award as World Muay Thai Middleweight champion over the dispute, Hun Sen not only donated money to Teixeira but also stated that he would request Cambodian citizenship on his behalf. Teixeira was on everyone’s lips.

The point here is that CPP-run spectacles and competitions attract more attention than the upcoming elections and may even rival them in political significance. They take place at a historical moment at which Cambodians are, again, rediscovering their national pride and processing the wrongdoings and traumas of the past. This dynamic has emerged partly independently of, partly as a consequence of, and perhaps also partly in reaction to politics under the CPP, but the main point is that the government is competently steering it.

The return of looted cultural artifacts over the past few months, including statuary and a jewelry collection from the estate of the late antiquities looter and dealer Douglas Latchford, was a success owed in large part to bilateral cooperation with the U.S. government. The return of the items, which were welcomed by Hun Sen at a ceremony in March, understandably struck emotional chords. The ordinary voter may thus feel that important things are moving in the right direction.

At a more fundamental level, the significance of July’s election is irreversibly undercut by the watershed moment of the dissolution of the CNRP in 2017, and the subsequent holding of national elections, for the first time since 1993 without the presence of a major opposition party. This constituted a rupture in recent political history, establishing a clear “before” and “after.”

In the political order that has taken shape since, oppositional activity has been delegitimized and associated with treason. Consequently, even in the scenario that the CLP is allowed to run in July and wins seats in the National Assembly, the expectations of what an opposition should be able to do will have changed. The CLP would be entering a gray zone, with no clear mandate for oppositional activity. Indeed, this shift is the very reason why the return of the opposition is at all on the table.

In tandem, the period since 2018 has seen the emergence of a variety of alternative, government-approved spaces for the proposing of policy change. These think tanks provide a safe space for voicing policy suggestions, without attracting the suspicion of being fundamentally opposed to the status quo. Many or most intellectuals and social scientists have been enlisted into these spaces, which now appear far more consequential for effecting change than the field of electoral politics does.