Document(s) 5 of 10

The overthrow of the Sihanouk regime, in March 1970, started the conflict in Cambodia that brought the unexpected devastation of this small country. The interference of the United States made Cambodia a major focus of regional and international rivalry and intervention. The coup against Sihanouk was immediately followed by an internal war between the republican regime of Lon Nol and the radical Khmer Rouge communist revolutionary movement, inspired by the cultural revolution in China. The victory of the Khmer Rouge in April 1975 brought a radical transformation of the country, with an enormous human cost, bloody internal purges, and repeated attempts to confront Viet Nam and revive the long-standing ethnic antagonism between the Vietnamese and Khmer peoples.

NB. The present paper forms part of my ongoing research on Cambodia. It is based on numerous interviews, and it would be impossible to list the names of all those people who generously contributed to the study. However, I would like to express my particular gratitude to the North Asia directorate of the Department of External Affairs in Ottawa and to its former director, Mr Joseph P. Caron, as well as to David Edwards and Leslie James for their helpful comments on the first draft.

In December 1978, the Vietnamese army officially launched a campaign against Kampuchea. The operation was carried out swiftly, and it quickly achieved its basic objective, which was to overthrow the Khmer Rouge government. The Heng Samrin government became the surrogate of Viet Nam, to which it was bound by the Treaty of Peace, Friendship and Cooperation of 18 February 1979. This treaty lent legitimacy to the presence of the Vietnamese troops and incorporated Kampuchea into the so-called Fédération indochinoise (Indochinese federation) that Viet Nam, supported by Laos, has long been suspected of promoting. The Heng Samrin regime was then completely subservient to the Vietnamese government and had no choice but to collaborate and to place both troops and supplies at its disposal.

After Viet Nam invaded Cambodia in 1978, the conflict became one of the major issues in international relations. China strongly opposed Viet Nam’s ambition — an ambition supported by the Soviet Union — to see its allied regime in Phnom Penh emerge as the dominant power in Cambodia. China demonstrated its resoluteness during the Kampuchea conflict by launching a military offensive against Viet Nam in February 1979. The punitive operation failed. China abstained from giving Hanoi a “second lesson” but instead provided a lot of weapons to the Khmer Rouge.

Viet Nam’s policies also met opposition from the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), which each year mobilized a very efficient diplomatic coalition in the United Nations to deny legitimacy to Viet Nam’s position and Heng Samrin’s regime. An ASEAN-sponsored annual resolution condemning Viet Nam’s occupation of Cambodia prevented the People’s Republic of Kampuchea (PRK) from taking Cambodia’s seat at the United Nations (UN). With military supplies from China and from some ASEAN members and with the cooperation of Thailand, the Coalition Government of Democratic Kampuchea (CGDK) was able to mount a guerrilla campaign that prevented the PRK from consolidating its position and for many years put thousands of Vietnamese troops into a costly and unwinnable struggle.

Despite many attempts at mediation in this multilevel conflict, nothing seemed to affect the stalemate. However, by mid-1980, the new Soviet policy and Gorbachev’s initiatives to improve Sino–Soviet relations began to open new avenues for settlement. At the end of 1987, when Prince Sihanouk and PRK Premier Hun Sen held discussions, a series of negotiations among the Cambodian parties was initiated. In July 1988, Indonesia, which had since 1984 been trying to moderate ASEAN’s tough position toward Viet Nam, hosted informal multilateral talks among the Cambodian parties, along with Viet Nam, Laos, and ASEAN members. Jakarta’s informal meetings led to an international conference on Cambodia in Paris at the end of July 1989.

The conference was not a complete success, but it was attended by the four Cambodian factions; the six ASEAN countries; China, France, Russian Federation, United Kingdom, and United States, the five permanent members of the UN Security Council; and Australia, Canada, India, Laos, Viet Nam, and Zimbabwe, representing the nonaligned movement. The conference adopted a general blueprint for peace and a comprehensive settlement concept. In September 1989, Viet Nam announced its withdrawal from Cambodia. After 1 year of intense negotiations, the four Cambodian parties accepted a framework developed by the five permanent members of the Security Council and set up the Supreme National Council (SNC), which would occupy Cambodia’s seat at the UN.

The conflict was not yet over, and the Phnom Penh regime continued to express reservations. Only in June and August in Pattaya (Thailand) did the four parties agree on a cease-fire, the cessation of foreign military assistance, and the various clauses of UN mechanism to be implemented by the UN Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC). These two Pattaya agreements paved the way for the formal Paris Conference and the transitional phase, which began on October 1991. Once again, Canada was to play a role in one of the most important peace operations of the UN.

CANADA AND INDOCHINA: THE HISTORICAL LANDMARKS

In seeking to understand Canada’s role, it is essential to remember that Canada’s early involvement with Southeast Asia, particularly with Indochina, took place in the context of the International Commissions for Control and Supervision (ICCSs) in Cambodia, Laos, and Viet Nam. Such a reminder is necessary, given that the Indochinese

experience profoundly marked the collective memory of Canadian diplomacy. Canada was twice invited to participate in these missions, first in 1954, at the conclusion of the Geneva Conference, and on a second occasion in the fall of 1972, when a cease-fire agreement appeared possible in Viet Nam.

In 1972, Canada learned, without any enthusiasm, that the Democratic Republic of Viet Nam and the United States had agreed to create a new ICCS, comprising Hungary, Indonesia, Poland, and, once again, Canada. Failure to achieve a cease-fire agreement in October allowed Ottawa, which happened to be in the middle of an election campaign, to postpone a decision on whether to participate in the ICCS. However, an accord was signed on 27 January, and, as expected, Canada was called on to join the commission, alongside the three other participating nations.

Ottawa again found itself in a role it had not particularly coveted. Constrained by events, Canada was unwilling to assume responsibility for the reopening of the fragile accord if it refused to participate; nor was it in a position to turn down a role that was the logical outgrowth of its oft-repeated wishes to see the United States withdraw from Viet Nam. The United States, which was trying hard to extricate itself from Viet Nam, also wanted Canadian expertise and experience on the new commission — the United States hoped the ICCS would make the US exit more orderly. China, too, was assuredly favourable to Canadian participation, as it had been in 1954. In the context of Sino–Canadian rapprochement and the trade negotiations then under way between Ottawa and Beijing, Canada would have had a delicate time ducking a Chinese request. With considerable caution, Canada committed itself for an initial period of 60 days and sent a contingent of 290 military and civilian personnel to Viet Nam. In February 1973, Ottawa recognized the government of the Democratic Republic of Viet Nam, a move “equivalent to effectively according legal status to the governments of the two Vietnams” that should have “facilitate[d] the task of the Canadian delegation to the ICCS” (Sharp 1973, p. 19).

The following month, the Secretary of State for External Affairs traveled to Indochina, where he met with authorities of the Hanoi, Saigon, and Vientiane governments. Appearing before the Commons Standing Committee on External Affairs and Defence after his return, Mitchell Sharp reported that, despite the considerable efforts made by the Canadian delegation, the ICCS had been unable to accomplish the tasks it had been assigned at the conclusion of the cease-fire agreement. There had been thousands of incidents, several of them large-scale

operations. However, for a Canadian withdrawal not to unduly undermine the fragile structure of peace in Viet Nam, the government decided to prolong Canadian participation in the ICCS for another 60 days. At the end of this new delay, on 29 May 1973, Sharp announced Canada’s withdrawal from the commission, effective 31 July 1973.

The events of 1975 in Indochina had relatively little influence on the Canadian position. When the Khmer Rouge captured Phnom Penh on 17 April, overthrowing the Lon Nol regime, Canada recognized the new government of Kampuchea without having to establish diplomatic relations. On 25 June 1975, not long after the evacuation of Canadian Embassy personnel from Saigon, Canada established new diplomatic ties with the provisional government of the Republic of South Viet Nam. When the unification of Viet Nam was completed the following year, Canada was not obliged to officially recognize the new state, as its relations were the continuation of those already established with the former governments of North and South Viet Nam. In Laos, the rise to power of the Pathet Lao, in August 1975, did nothing to modify the Canadian attitude. Ottawa simply pursued relations established on 15 June 1974 with the preceding government, and the Canadian ambassador to Thailand retained his accreditation with the government in Vientiane.

Canada might have been expected to react more strongly to the December 1978 Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia. Instead, its response to these events was remarkably discreet; with an equally surprising degree of discretion, Canada put an end to its aid program for Viet Nam in February. The 1979 federal election campaign pushed the Indochinese question well down the list of priorities for ministers and parliamentarians alike. At a Security Council meeting on 24 February 1979, however, the Canadian delegate, in concert with the delegates of Australia and New Zealand, expressed concerns over the Cambodian situation.

The election of a Conservative government in 1979 brought with it a hardening of the Canadian position; the shift was linked to a strategy that focused on human-rights promotion and reinforcement of ties with China and ASEAN but was also favourable to the maintenance of Canadian involvement in the United Nations and multilateral diplomacy. The origins of the first element of this strategy can undoubtedly be traced to the political climate prevailing at that time, as well as to principles defended by the White House. Then Secretary of State for External Affairs, Flora MacDonald, unambiguously declared her

intention to ensure that “Canadian foreign policy place[s] even greater emphasis on human rights issues” (MacDonald 1979, p. 2). She added that “we will be on watch for any violations of international agreements such as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and the Helsinki Accords.” In parallel to this focus on rights, however, the government gave top priority to opening up markets in China and in ASEAN, despite repeated denunciations of certain ASEAN nations (particularly Indonesia and the Philippines) in Amnesty International’s annual reports. The inherent paradox went largely unnoticed by the Canadian population.

As mentioned earlier, Canadian aid to Viet Nam was suspended in February 1979. Speaking to the Canadian Club in Montréal, on 17 December, MacDonald (1979) specified that “given the policy of human rights violations recently adopted by Vietnam, we have suspended all aid programs to this country.” This speech, like many other public statements, made no reference to Kampuchea. In November, however, the Canadian government had cosponsored UN Resolution A/34/L.13. Presented by the ASEAN nations, it called for an end to hostilities, the withdrawal of all foreign forces from Kampuchea, and the peaceful resolution of differences.

For a long period, Canada supported this resolution while refusing to recognize the Vietnamese-backed Heng Samrin regime in Kampuchea. As a result, Canada found itself, like many other countries, in the embarrassing position of maintaining recognition of the former Khmer Rouge regime as the sole legitimate Kampuchean government, a judicial contortion corrected by the unreserved condemnation of the genocide practiced by the Pol Pot regime. In June 1982, when China and the ASEAN countries joined together to back the formation of a CGDK — consisting of the Khmer Rouge, Prince Sihanouk, and former premier Son Sann — Canada endorsed the proposition to recognize the CGDK as the sole legitimate government in Kampuchea.

In sum, then, Canada maintained identical policies on Indochina during the roughly 10 years ending with the opening of the first Paris Conference on Cambodia in 1989. These policies can be clearly situated within the framework of traditional Canadian adherence to the principles of the UN Charter; Canada’s multilateral strategy of solidarity with Western positions; and a certain tendency, despite considerable Canadian reservations, to follow the path charted by US diplomacy.

Without disregarding these constraints, Canada nonetheless began, for economic reasons, to gradually reexamine its attitude toward East Asia and Southeast Asia. This reexamination and the emerging

awareness of Asian importance occurred by the late 1970s, particularly in the wake of the second energy crisis in 1979, an event that motivated the Canadian business community to take a closer look at the Pacific Basin. In less then 10 years, the changes brought about by the economic dynamism of the region forced the acknowledgment of new and unavoidable realities. As External Affairs Minister Joe Clark noted in 1989,

Today, more than half of our exports destined for countries other than the United States are shipped to the Asia–Pacific Region. They represented more than 17 billion dollars in 1988. Approximately three quarters of our exports to Korea and Japan come from the four Western provinces. The proportion is about 90% for China. Last year, our total Asia–Pacific exports grew by over 30%. Within ten years, the value of bilateral trade between Canada and the region will exceed 50 billion dollars.

Clark (1989a, p. 1)

Along with trade considerations came a growing awareness of the importance of Asian investment in Canada and the realization that visits to Canada by Asian tourists accounted for 28% of the tourist trade. The fact that Asians constituted the majority of Canadian immigrants only served to drive home the new-found importance of the Pacific Basin to Canadian society. Gradually, the region became a priority, a priority often associated with a certain sentiment of urgency and a need to make up lost ground. Despite this, the federal government continued to manifest its traditional reservations in the regional-security field and was unable to surmount the long-standing reticence born of its earlier interventions in Southeast Asia.

As early as 1972, the Standing Senate Committee on Foreign Affairs had noted the caution, indeed the extreme discretion, of Canada with regard to regional security in Asia and the Pacific. The committee wrote the following: “Pacific countries are anxious to see what role Canada will play in the achievement of regional peace and security and in cooperative action to share the benefits of economic development with the disadvantaged countries” (SSCFA 1972). This remark went unheeded, and in 1986 the Special Joint Committee on the External Relations of Canada concluded that “in security matters, however, military resources do not allow (Canada) to contribute directly to the maintenance of security in this region” (SJCERC 1986). This acknowledgment of Canadian impotence, linked with its participation in the ICCS in Indochina between 1954 and 1973, only hardened Canada’s resolve to keep its distance from the region. Furthermore, it was with a

certain legitimacy that Ottawa justified the priority status that Canada gave to European defence and to its own role in the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.

Nonetheless, it was becoming increasingly difficult to explain, often within the same documents and speeches, that Asia and the Pacific were henceforth more important economically to Canada than Europe, that Asian immigration exceeded that from European sources, but that the federal government remained firmly committed to its traditionally cautious stance on regional-security matters. Already in 1988, but most notably as of 1989, unprecedented upheaval in the international system was modifying perceptions of Canadian foreign policy. The lessening of tensions in Europe facilitated a more marked shift of interest toward the Pacific. Pressured by events, the federal government in Ottawa also came to understand that Canada’s interests would be better served by according greater credibility to Canada’s Asian vocation. Along with the need to reinforce its West Coast fleet, the federal government grew conscious of the fact that it could no longer pursue uniquely economic interests within the existing regional forums. To be considered a serious actor, Canada also had to participate in the conferences determining the strategic future of the Asia–Pacific region.

The first test of this still nascent desire to play a role in East Asian security came when Viet Nam invited Canada to join an international peacekeeping body to supervise the withdrawal of Vietnamese troops from Cambodia. The invitation came as no surprise. Canada had known for more than 2 years that Viet Nam would be making such a request when favourable conditions were in place. Ottawa reacted swiftly: on 5 April 1989, the Department of External Affairs issued a press release to decisively underscore Canadian interest in the rapid resolution of the Cambodian question and, by the same token, Southeast Asian stability and security. The Canadian (EAC 1989) response imposed certain conditions but closed no doors:

Canada had advised Vietnam that we would only consider participation if key conditions can be met including: the full support of all parties to the dispute, a clear mandate and a limited duration of involvement; manageable resources implications; and, most importantly, evidence that this is part of an effective and comprehensive solution to the Cambodian problem.

The insistence on an effective, global solution underlined Canada’s attachment to, and alignment with, the positions of the ASEAN countries and the CGDK. These positions excluded any partial settlement that would result in the suspension of aid to the Cambodian factions

and the withdrawal of Vietnamese troops but leave the internal political situation unresolved.

The diplomatic ballet around the Cambodian question then moved into an accelerated phase as details of a major conference to be attended by the five permanent members of the Security Council took shape. The meeting, which was to be co-chaired by France and Indonesia, was scheduled for 30 July 1989 in Paris. Invitations were sent not only to the five permanent members of the Security Council but also to the ASEAN countries, the four Cambodian factions, Australia, India, and Japan. But Canada’s invitation was late in materializing. This delay both worried and embarrassed Ottawa, which felt that its absence from the conference might damage the credibility of its newly expressed interest in Southeast Asia. Thanks to some international lobbying, particularly the intervention of Canada’s mission to the United Nations, Canada finally succeeded in obtaining an invitation, which arrived from Paris on 21 July.

This incident clearly illustrated the motivations of the Canadian government and its policies on the Cambodian question. On one hand, it wished to maintain and reaffirm its attachment to UN principles; on the other, it aimed, by way of its involvement in Cambodia, to highlight a renewed foreign-policy interest in Southeast Asia. With regard to the first of these objectives, External Affairs Minister Joe Clark, in a speech in Paris on 30 July (Clark 1989b), made a vibrant plea for eventual UN involvement in the settlement of the Cambodian problem:

No other organization commends the same authority in providing guarantees. No other organization has the necessary machinery in place to move quickly to implement agreements once they are reached. No other organization spans as effectively the interlinked security, humanitarian and economic agenda of this conference. We are aware that other options have been proposed, such as the creation of a control commission. In our experience those are highly imperfect instruments, especially if they do not have an appropriate reporting authority or an integrated mission structure.

In fact, Clark wanted Canada to participate in an international control mechanism (ICM) in Cambodia, and the forum of the Paris Conference allowed him to remind participants of Canadian expertise in the peacekeeping field: “Our earlier experience in Indochina has taught us what will not work; our experience in over 20 peacekeeping operations elsewhere gives us an appreciation of what does make for success” (Clark 1989b). The message was clear: Canada was available but was

resolved to have a say in determining the nature of the mechanisms to be put in place.

With regard to the second Canadian objective, Clark insisted, in the same speech, on the emergence of Southeast Asia and added that “it is surely time to associate Indochina as a whole with this remarkable success story and to allow the talents and resources of the Indochina countries to strengthen South East Asian success” (Clark 1989b). As the 1980s drew to a close, it was becoming evident that Canadian interest in a peaceful solution in Cambodia went beyond Khmer borders. Canada’s goals were twofold: to increase its participation in ASEAN economic prosperity and simultaneously to position itself in the face of the possible reintegration of Viet Nam into the Southeast Asian economic-expansion zone. The Under-Secretary of State for External Affairs, de Montigny Marchand (1990, p. 7), made it very clear:

The region, including  . . . Indochina, will no doubt continue to undergo the remarkable economic expansion that has generally distinguished it over the past decade. If Canada wishes to take advantage of this growth, it must continue to tighten links with its Asian partners [author’s translation].

The first Paris Conference on Cambodia ended in partial failure at the close of August 1989. The conference was no more able to establish an ICM capable of supervising the withdrawal of Vietnamese troops than to define a transition process and electoral procedures acceptable to the four factions. On the other hand, the conference proceedings were not suspended indefinitely but simply adjourned; during the 2-year interval preceding their resumption, the multiple elements of fragile consensus were put into place, along with innumerable compromises involving overlapping layers of local interests, regional conflicts, and international antagonisms.

In the extraordinary flurry of diplomatic activity that led to the Cambodian settlement, the repeated interventions of the five permanent members of the Security Council were decisive. Indeed, the fate of Cambodia and the mechanisms of the largest peacekeeping mission ever deployed by the United Nations became key issues for the emerging post-Cold War international order. The Chinese intervention, notably with regard to the Khmer Rouge, was also capital. Pragmatically speaking, Chinese cooperation was aimed at securing pardon for the Tien An Men Square incident; above all else, however, the Chinese regime was abandoning its ideological militancy in favour of the unbridled pursuit of economic growth. Following UN General Assembly approval of the peace plan drawn up by the permanent five in mid-October 1990, it

took another year and numerous adjustments before an international peace treaty for Cambodia could finally be signed in Paris on 23 October 1991.

It fell to Barbara McDougall, the newly appointed Secretary of State for External Affairs, to sign the Paris Peace Accords. She declared that “we envisage participating in both military and civilian peacekeeping units of the United Nations transitional force in Cambodia” (McDougall 1991). Although the tone was cautious, the decision had already been made in Ottawa. Of course, budgetary restrictions, certain reservations on the part of the Department of National Defence, and, most importantly, Canada’s already overextended peacekeeping commitments limited its ability to follow up on its ambitions. Nonetheless, Ottawa sent a delegation of military officers and public servants as part of the United Nations Advanced Mission in Cambodia (UNAMIC), with its first representatives reaching Phnom Penh in mid-November 1991. On 2 March 1992, Ottawa added 100 people to the contingent, bringing the total number of military personnel to 215 when UNTAC was deployed on 12 March (DND 1992).

A POLICY OF TAKING POSITION¹

How should we evaluate Canada’s policies on the Cambodian question for the period beginning with the first Paris Conference in August 1989 and ending with the Paris Peace Accords of October 1991?

Canada approached the Cambodian conflict handicapped by the frustrations of past experience but fully determined to carry out its new intentions regarding regional security. The government’s strategy consisted of surmounting internal bureaucratic reservations — still strong in the public service — while elaborating policies meant to give Canada a certain degree of credibility in Indochinese affairs. Canada was able to capitalize on the distance it had established from US positions on Indochina while highlighting its past experience in the region, but most particularly its experience with peacekeeping.

Despite the partial failure of the first Paris Conference in its search for a global solution for Cambodia, this conference did give Canada the opportunity to reinvolve itself to some extent in the

¹ Most of the information in this section is based on documents that cannot be quoted or on interviews with individuals officially involved in Canadian foreign policy.

complex maze of Southeast Asian security issues. During the conference, the Canadian delegation ran the risk of being marginalized. The risk was all the more real because Canada had to some degree forced an invitation to the meeting and because several participating states had infinitely more precise and partisan objectives than the Canadians. However, by agreeing, with India, to co-chair the first Working Commission on the Establishment of an International Control Mechanism, Canada marked up points with its expertise, and its credibility was heightened by both its relative neutrality and the excellent performance of Canadian Ambassador Sullivan. The presence of Secretary of State for External Affairs Joe Clark at the two plenary sessions of the conference did not go unnoticed. His attendance underlined how seriously Ottawa viewed Southeast Asian security problems and gave the Minister an occasion to reinforce personal ties with his ASEAN counterparts, especially the Indochinese leaders. Clark’s presence also allowed him to play a key role in launching a UN reconnaissance mission to Cambodia. Although the UN Secretary-General had initially suggested the idea for the mission, the mission would probably not have been possible without Clark’s initiative and the work carried out by the members of the Canadian delegation — particularly vis-à-vis the Chinese delegation.

Participation in the conference also led to the reinforcement of Canadian diplomatic autonomy and a reevaluation of Canada’s policy for Indochina. As a result of this reevaluation, Canada sent a mission to Cambodia in October 1989 and readmitted Cambodia, Laos, and Viet Nam to its development-assistance program. Positive perceptions of Canada’s role, reinforced by Canadian expertise and a certain distance already established from US policy, allowed Ottawa to propose another UN mission for the beginning of January 1990 and another meeting of the five permanent members of the Security Council. That meeting took place in Paris on 15 and 16 January of the same year. In general terms, the Paris Conference on Cambodia and its mid-term impact served as a trampoline for Canadian initiatives with targets more regional in scope. Canada wished to clearly establish its solidarity with ASEAN, develop closer ties with Viet Nam, and diminish the isolation of China in the wake of events in June 1989.

Even though throughout this period Canada expressed concern for Cambodian refugees and reiterated its support for human rights, it did not seek a more appropriate way to intervene in the complex web of Cambodian politics. In November 1989, Canada moved to support Australian plans to place Cambodia under “trusteeship” until a free

election could be held. In January 1990, the Secretary of State for External Affairs told the House (Clark 1990b, p. 3) that

in November, the government of Australia proposed the establishment of an interim administration of the United Nations in Cambodia. Canada unreservedly supports this proposition, for it has the merit of avoiding the problem of power sharing between the Cambodian factions by entrusting the United Nations with the responsibility of administering the country during the pre-electoral period.

Clark’s remarks illustrate how Canada had adopted the Australian position as its own. To the extent that Canberra’s policy favoured the UN as a structure for intervention, it conformed to the pattern of Canadian interventions in the past. On the other hand, it seems rather surprising that Canada did not seek to formulate a more Canadian attitude. In fact, Canada had no project as such for Cambodia and was uninterested in joining the fiercely competitive ranks of the numerous mediators and other parties who intervened during the conflict. No particularly Canadian analysis was developed regarding the difficult issue of an internal settlement between factions. Canada remained cautious, formulating no particular point of view on questions specifically concerned with internal issues such as the establishment of a quadripartite government, the use of the term genocide, the problem of Vietnamese colonists, or the nature of a future Cambodian constitution.

In fact, the federal government in Ottawa had no wish to further its involvement; in the multilateral framework of concerted diplomacy, it had no intention to confuse issues or take the risk of angering either its Australian partner or the ASEAN countries. Moreover, Canada lacked sufficient resources to establish representation in Phnom Penh and Hanoi. Given that the Canadian Embassy in Bangkok covered the whole Indochinese peninsula, it is not surprising that Canadian information came more often than not from foreign sources.

The deployment of the military component of UNTAC began in mid-November 1991 and was preceded by UNAMIC, which involved 250 people, primarily French and Australian. At the beginning of January 1992, the UN Secretary-General named Japanese diplomat Yasushi Akashi to head the operation and Australian General John M. Sanderson as commander-in-chief of the UN forces.

The military aspect of the operation was then supposed to involve close to 16 000 soldiers from 23 countries. Their general objective was the stabilization of the security situation and the creation of a climate of confidence between opposing groups. More specific tasks were divided into four grand categories: control of the withdrawal and

maintenance of the withdrawal of foreign forces and weaponry; cease-fire supervision; disarmament; and mine clearance, which was to be carried out by 5 000 Cambodians trained by UNTAC. The most delicate of these tasks proved to be the second, because during its first phase of operations, UNTAC failed to establish a veritable cease-fire on Cambodian territory. However, UNTAC was also forced to recognize the impotence of its attempts to disarm and confine to cantonments the soldiers of the four factions during the second phase of operations, beginning in June 1992.

One of the greatest difficulties faced by the representative of the UN Secretary-General proved to be that of convincing several participating nations to provide sufficient troops to meet the ambitious objectives laid out in the Paris Peace Accords and keep to the mission timetable, with its culmination in the general election set for the end of May 1993.

Although everything seemed to point to Canada’s playing a fairly major role in the Cambodian mission, Ottawa’s real intentions and response proved to be of much humbler proportions. Akashi proposed that Canada commit at least 1 000 people to UN logistical, engineering, and health units and indicated that in light of Canadian experience the UN was counting on it to play a major supporting role. His disappointment was considerable. Canada announced on 27 February 1992 that it would send 100 people with the advanced mission, UNAMIC. In May 1992, Ottawa specified that the total Canadian commitment to UNTAC would not exceed 225 people, most destined for transport duty, but 30 would be naval personnel, there to ensure a certain degree of surveillance on the Mekong and on the rivers of the Tonle Sap.

The Canadian contingent in Cambodia was unquestionably tiny in relation to the total 22 000-strong UN military force that was finally deployed. Canadian government budgetary considerations go a long way to explaining this situation; Canada’s other UN commitments already involved 2 200 Canadian soldiers. Furthermore, in diplomatic terms, Canada let it be known that quality was more important than quantity and that its personnel, unlike those of many other nations, had vast experience with such missions. Finally, Canada may also have made certain trade-offs in terms of its priorities in Cambodia and former Yugoslavia, and deployment of Canadian troops in Cambodia was much too risky militarily and thus too great a political risk as well.

Despite the relative modesty of its military participation, the Canadian contingent acquitted itself admirably in the often difficult and thankless task of transporting the thousands of UN troops arriving

at the port of Sihanoukville. The presence of a handful of Canadian officers within the UN command structure also ensured that Canada remained at the heart of military decision-making. In contrast, the absence of a full-time Canadian ambassador in Phnom Penh deprived Canada of a closer association with the political process. Akashi and Sanderson quickly took to consulting the Phnom Penh ambassadors of the Security Council member countries. Organized into an informal contact group — also associated with Germany, Indonesia, Japan, and, on occasion, Thailand — these diplomats not only intervened in meetings of a military nature, but also frequently attended sessions of the SNC in an observer capacity. Not until January 1993 was an officer from External Affairs posted to Phnom Penh. With the Cambodian election just a few months away, Canada needed direct access to information to make decisions during this crucial period.

At the beginning of 1993, the political situation in Cambodia was especially tense. The Khmer Rouge were refusing to participate in the second phase of the UN operation, the disarmament and confinement of the troops of each faction to cantonments. This refusal actually modified the terms of the Paris Peace Accords, given that UNTAC had no mandate to use sanctions to ensure that the terms of the accords were respected. After multiple failed attempts by Japan, Thailand, and the co-chairs of the Paris Conference to convince the Khmer Rouge to keep their word, the Security Council was forced to pass a resolution condemning the rebel faction. The resolution set 31 January 1993 as the deadline for the Khmer Rouge to respect the peace agreement and allow UN troops access to their territory.

It quickly became clear that all efforts to force the Khmer Rouge to comply with UN demands would be in vain. It proved virtually impossible to enforce the embargo on fuel imports and timber and gem exports to and from territory controlled by the Khmer Rouge. Military incidents multiplied as the rebel faction openly defied UN authority. In this context, the decision was made in New York and Phnom Penh to hold the election at any price, even if Khmer Rouge refused to participate and only 80% of Cambodian territory was covered.

In the face of this new situation, Canada clarified its stance and unambiguously condemned the lack of Khmer Rouge cooperation; at the same time, Canada recognized that there could be no true and lasting peace without Khmer Rouge participation. Although Canada admitted that the Khmer Rouge’s refusal to cooperate meant that the election was inevitable, even in their absence, Ottawa also expressed concern over the potential prolongation of the UNTAC mandate. The

general feeling was that Canada would withdraw from the UN operation in the case of an extension,

Thus, at the beginning of 1993, 213 Canadian soldiers and officers were serving with UNTAC forces, and another 50-odd civilians, mostly UN-recruited volunteers, were working in various sectors of the UNTAC operation, notably to prepare for the election. With the election approaching and the campaign beginning on 7 April 1993, the tension escalated. Not only did the Khmer Rouge refuse to cooperate, but they actually increased their attacks on areas close to towns such as Kompong Thom, Siem Reap, and Sisophon. Thirty people were killed and more than 100 injured in an especially violent attack on a train southeast of Battambang on 5 May. (For more details of the numerous events in the lead-up to the election, see, for example, Frost [1993].)

On 10 April, just a few days after the opening of the campaign, Khieu Samphan, head of the Khmer Rouge delegation to the SNC in Phnom Penh, withdrew from the city, thus portending the possibility of attacks on the capital itself. The faction hammered incessantly at its principal argument that “Vietnamese forces of aggression” continued to occupy Cambodia and that the neutral political environment necessary for an election did not exist.

The Khmer Rouge anti-Vietnamese rhetoric was accompanied by massacres of ethnic Vietnamese residents in rural Cambodia. However, neither Khmer Rouge’s incidents and intimidation nor accusations such as those brought by the Front uni national pour un Cambodge indépendant, neutre, pacifique et coopératif (FUNCINPEC, united national front for an independent, neutral, peaceful, and cooperative Cambodia) against the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) could cool the ardour of electoral officers responsible for the registration of voters and accredited political parties. On 15 May, the UN Secretary-General officially announced that more than 4.5 million voters (96% of the potential electorate) had been registered. Twenty official parties participated in the election campaign. Although occasionally marked by serious incidents between the three principal factions, the campaign nonetheless allowed all political tendencies to have free expression. UNTAC radio broadcast 15 h a day, and all parties had access to the airwaves.

From 15 to 23 May, the first day of voting, tension only climbed higher. Khmer Rouge radio repeated the same hateful rhetoric toward the Vietnamese community still in Cambodia, denounced violations of the Paris Peace Accords, and made no secret of the dangers facing anybody willing to risk casting a ballot. At UNTAC headquarters in Phnom Penh, Yasushi Akashi (the representative of the Secretary-General) and

General Sanderson remained optimistic to the end, despite the tension. Their resolve stemmed in large measure from the dangers of postponing the election. Failure to keep to the timetable would mean totally discrediting the UNTAC, as well as implying the withdrawal of many of the nations participating in the operation.

Indeed, under the postponement scenario, the cost of each additional day appeared insurmountable for an operation that had already cost close to US $2 billion. Furthermore, information reaching Phnom Penh from throughout the country indicated that the population was determined to vote, whatever the circumstances. Only the Parti libéral démocratique et bouddhiste (PLDB, Buddhist liberal democratic party) risked proposing postponement, but the party quickly backed down in the face of general hostility toward the suggestion. On the military front, General Sanderson had been arguing repeatedly for several months that the Khmer Rouge lacked the resources to attack the 1 400 polling stations and that their real strength had been consistently overestimated. Others noted that even if, in the worst-case scenario, the Khmer Rouge succeeded in preventing 1 million Khmer from exercising their right to vote, the number of voters would still be close to 4 million.

In the days immediately preceding the election, the majority of Cambodia watchers expressed considerable pessimism. The murder, in unclear circumstances, of a Japanese UN volunteer just days before voting began accentuated concern throughout the UNTAC apparatus. The election process was highly vulnerable; a few well-targeted and highly publicized attacks, even minor ones, would have been sufficient to derail this important UN operation.

In Ottawa, the atmosphere was tense. A special Cambodia Task Force comprising representatives from External Affairs, National Defence, and the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) was set up in case the situation called for a rapid decision. Pessimism was also widespread in Canada, but officials at External Affairs seemed more optimistic than their colleagues at National Defence. What were the Canadian government’s fears? Of primary concern was the safety of the Canadians then in Cambodia. Along with military personnel, some 130 civilians were working for different branches of the UNTAC organization; a further 48 volunteer UN International Polling Station Officers arrived as the elections drew near. Guaranteeing security for the polling-station officers was impossible, given the difficulty of their work and their scattered postings in several Cambodian provinces. Second, Canada feared having to make a decision to

withdraw its personnel, which would send a first signal of postponement or cancellation of the elections. A decision to withdraw would have struck a serious blow to UN credibility and threatened all the gains made during the Cambodian operation. Third, Canada feared that the freedom and fairness of the elections would be called into question, creating controversy and yielding results unacceptable to Cambodian political parties. This scenario, too, had its share of potential dangers if, as a result, open conflict broke out between party supporters from the different factions.

From the moment the polls opened on 23 May 1993, early indications rather surprisingly showed that Cambodians were rushing to vote. By the end of the third day of polling, 70% of voters had already cast ballots. The enthusiasm of the population was on occasion hard to contain. In Takeo, Canadians reported that Cambodians had broken down the doors of the polling station to speed the process; elsewhere, such as in Kampong Speu, voters climbed through windows to be the first to cast ballots. Everywhere, long lines formed as Cambodians patiently awaited their turn beneath a premature monsoon rain. In several provinces, Khmer Rouge soldiers voted with their families; 200 participated in Banteay Meanchey province alone. In all, close to 90% of the registered electors voted, a figure well exceeding all expectations.

The most important surprise of the election was the Khmer Rouge decision to radically modify tactics during the final days and hours leading up to the vote, abandoning their plans for sabotage and intimidation. The number of violent incidents in all provinces remained abnormally low in comparison with cease-fire violations recorded during previous periods. However, several difficulties, including minor aggressions and mortar fire, were reported near Khmer Rouge-controlled areas.

After the count, lasting several days because of the difficulty of bringing ballot boxes in from remote areas, FUNCINPEC, with 45.47% of the votes cast, was declared victorious. The CPP took 38.23%; the PLDB placed a distant third, with 3.81%; and the remainder of the votes were split between the 17 other political parties (see Lechervy 1993). On 2 June 1993, Barbara McDougall declared, in a press release, “that the polling phase of the election was free and fair” (McDougall 1993). At the same time, the Minister (McDougall 1993) took the occasion to highlight

the role played by some 100 Canadian civilians and over 200 Canadian military personnel in the election process. This has included difficult and sometimes dangerous work over many months by some

35 United Nations volunteers from Canada who helped organize the vote and 50 Canadian polling station officers who supervised balloting and assisted in the count.

Among the many and diverse civilian components of the UN mission in Cambodia, the electoral component proved to be a grand success. Professor Reginald Austin of Zimbabwe, who had extensive experience in this field, piloted all phases of the electoral operation with unyielding determination and confidence. After the electoral law was adopted by the SNC on 10 January 1992, the registration of political parties, but more particularly of voters, began with remarkable efficiency. By 31 January 1993, more than 4.6 million people were already registered; 800 Cambodian electoral teams assisted by 400 foreign volunteers worked unceasingly to obtain these results. Thirty Canadians recruited by World University Services of Canada joined the election organizers in June 1992. Earlier, in October and November of 1991, a mission coordinated by Ron Gould of Elections Canada had also collaborated in establishing the electoral process.

Another form of Canadian aid was recovery assistance to Cambodia. On 25 January 1990, Joe Clark announced the renewed eligibility of the three Indochinese nations — Cambodia, Laos, and Viet Nam — for Canadian-government development aid. Clark (1990a) referred quite clearly to Cambodia when he asserted the following:

We will not have Canadian aid channelled into the military effort of any group. Nor will we permit it to be used by groups or governments whose records demonstrate a fundamental disrespect for basic human rights. We will, for example, insist that no Canadian aid be distributed in areas controlled by the Khmer Rouge.

A program was officially established in 1991 to finance human-resource development, particularly in the agricultural field in the province of Pursat, through the intermediary of a CIDA-funded consortium of 15 Canadian nongovernmental organizations (NGOs). To this 7-year program’s $8.3 million budget should be added the $200 000 contributed annually by the Canadian Embassy in Bangkok. Finally, Canada also contributed $25 000 to the UNTAC human-rights division and an identical amount to the Cambodian Mine Action Centre (CMAC). Although Canadian military involvement in UNTAC officially ended in November 1993, Canada continued to work with CMAC and sent 12 mine-clearance specialists to participate in the centre’s operations. Canada’s engagement was scheduled to end in February 1996.

SUCCESS BY DEFAULT

Whatever the criticisms of the UN operation in Cambodia, in the final analysis, the electoral component was an unexpected success. Running contrary to the rather chaotic trajectories of the other components of the operation, this fundamental success has yet to be definitively explained. It is clear, however, that the electoral process served as a beacon for the mission, which, like a ship buffeted by stormy seas and crosswinds, was taking on water from all sides. Winning the election was a gamble that eventually paid off. However, in the last days of May 1993, the UN operation was in a zero-sum situation; a less fortunate outcome would have forced the international community either to abandon ship or to up the stakes at immeasurable expense.

Numerous evaluations of the operation have been carried out (see, for example, Acharya, [1994] and Amer [1993]; for a perspective on the cultural dimensions, see the interesting piece by Lizée [1993].) Organized generally on a component-by-component basis, these assessments of success and failure are made according to a scale on which the election represents the most positive aspect of the mission; the military intervention, the most negative. In summarizing the essentials, then, without reviewing all the arguments, we could say that the UN admittedly failed to establish a politically neutral climate in Cambodia but nonetheless succeeded in forcing the peripheral actors to soften their positions (Akashi 1993).

Despite the lack of historical distance, it is worth restating the complexity of the external environment, both regional and international. This delayed the elaboration of any solution or intervention in Cambodia. China’s decision to rally behind the Security Council, rendered inevitable as it was by circumstances, was undoubtedly the decisive turning point. The gradual withdrawal of Viet Nam, a key actor for so many years, and the decision by the ASEAN countries to conciliate their divergent interests so as to maintain an indispensable united front on the Cambodian question were also essential. In the final analysis, all regional actors came to the realization that permanent instability in Cambodia ran counter to their priorities, which centred on economic growth, development, and the necessary maintenance of the status quo with regard to regional tensions.

It was, of course, difficult to arrive at such fragile consensus on the periphery of the conflict without attempting to deal with the internal sources of Cambodian division. Thus, UNTAC was given the mandate of establishing a politically neutral climate in Cambodia. To make

this objective feasible, it was important that the UN more or less take charge of all aspects of the internal conflict and all important dimensions of Cambodian society. The unheralded complexity of the task, a lack of planning, and the large number of countries involved led to improvisation and considerable confusion.

In principle, without legally placing the country under trusteeship, UNTAC was to have acted by virtue of extremely wide-ranging prerogatives in consultation with the SNC, chaired by Prince Sihanouk. In fact, the SNC constituted a sort of legal fiction that enabled UNTAC to take over the administration of a sovereign, UN member state. It goes without saying that the sheer amplitude of the envisaged tasks exceeded by far anything attempted in past operations. The UN, especially the Security Council, found itself in the middle of an operation that went well beyond peacekeeping to encompass an ambitious attempt to re-create, in the space of a short mandate, the political, economic, and social conditions of a society torn by deep-rooted antagonisms ever since the US intervention in the Viet Nam war.

Thus, the three missions, originally conceived of as distinct by UN Secretary-General Boutros-Ghali in the Agenda for Peace (Boutros-Ghali 1992), were prematurely telescoped. To the traditional task of peacekeeping was added the task of peacemaking in the field, especially that of peacebuilding. However, as a result of haste and improvisation and, more importantly, in the light of the operational complexities of the 1991 Paris Peace Accords, the huge UN machine was unable to define subtly enough a mission considered as being a test of reconciliation between the five Security Council powers and the numerous regional actors that had been bitterly engaged in the Cambodian conflict for more than two decades. In the rather euphoric post-Paris climate, in which the goodwill of all accord signatories appeared certain, it seemed unimaginable that within a few short months the Khmer Rouge would have broken their promises and, even more surprisingly, refused to yield to the pressures brought to bear by the Chinese government.

Little had been done to set up UNTAC’s civilian components. In fact, fewer than 2 000 people were recruited to handle the civilian administration of the country. Only 126 people exercised any real control over the most important ministries in Phnom Penh, that is, those responsible for the administration of 11 000 Cambodian municipalities (Will 1993). It goes without saying that controls were often symbolic, although on occasion very effective.

As early as the spring of 1992, I was able to ascertain that Cambodian authorities (that is, the CPP) harboured considerable scepticism about the UN’s capacity to monitor ministerial files and activities. Several considered such an intervention a violation of Cambodian sovereignty; some viewed it as political espionage undertaken on behalf of the other factions to increase their chances of election victory; others simply awaited the arrival of the UN “experts” with a certain cynical amusement, well aware that only a handful would be able to read and speak Khmer (interviews conducted by the author in Phnom Penh in May 1992).

In reality, the vast majority of people recruited by the UN had neither previous experience in Cambodia nor anything but a rudimentary knowledge of Cambodian culture. Even more serious was the fact that many did not even possess the professional expertise required to carry out their duties in the field. As Akashi (1993, p. 189) pointed out, “of the 14 countries that sent over 100 police monitors, 13 were developing countries. Some of the personnel did not meet the highest professional standards.” According to several other accounts, it was in Cambodia that these same officers often learned the elementary functions of and role played by a police force in “civil society.” Added to this were the communication and comprehension difficulties between UN personnel themselves.

All these criticisms are well documented (for a highly critical account of the entire UN approach to the Cambodian intervention, see Jennar [1995]). Would it have been possible to limit the negative effects of such extensive cultural confusion? This is far from evident in a situation in which the objective was the hasty reconstruction of a society whose social tissues had been severely damaged and degraded; on the other hand, the Cambodian experience, rich in diversity and multiple challenges and exemplary in sheer scope of ambition, offers lessons for future operations responding to similar situations.

The most evident lesson to emerge is the need for the UN to find the means and resources for rapid action. Five long months elapsed between the signing of the Paris Peace Accords and the deployment of UNTAC. Only UNAMIC, with its limited personnel, occupied the terrain, improvising as best it could to lay the groundwork for the larger UN mission. The UNAMIC interlude gave rise to severe criticism, as well as rivalry between French and Australian troops, but was most notable for the hopes it aroused in the Cambodian people, deeply impressed as they were by the determination and unaffected candour of the UNAMIC commander, General Loridon. Eventually, however, UN

indecisiveness and sluggishness left much of the population profoundly disillusioned with UNTAC.

The second lesson, linked to the first, arises out of the lack of preparation and the inadequacy of the UN General Secretariat as mission headquarters. As had been the case during other operations, it proved to be very difficult to communicate directly with New York during the Cambodian intervention, or, as an observer put it, UN headquarters did not even maintain a round-the-clock operations room to keep in contact with its field commanders. In the words of Commander-in-Chief General Sanderson (1994, p. 4),

In a sense the force Commander has no higher headquarters, and therefore, nobody to talk to about his problems and plans. Of equal concern is the fact that there is no one there who can adequately brief the contributing countries on changes in the operational setting and plans. I had a full realization of this in March 1993 and fortunately was able to prevail upon the Under Secretary General to allow me to establish two UNTAC liaison officers in New York for the purpose of telling everyone what was going on in Cambodia, and telling me what was going on in New York. This was a big improvement.

All peacekeeping operations face similar challenges: difficulties of preparation, problems of coordination, and the complex task of integrating highly diverse national contingents under a unified command. What was rather new, above and beyond the considerations of a strictly military and technical order, was the introduction of civilian components with a mission more akin to peacebuilding. The Cambodian example clearly revealed the difficulties inherent in this approach. Along with the general unpreparedness characteristic of the Cambodian operation, the incapacity to strategically integrate the work carried out by the seven mission components proved to be another major weakness. Again, Sanderson (1994, p. 11) was clear when he said,

To my regret there was never integrated strategic planning within the UNTAC mission. From the very beginning each component conducted a separate survey mission and prepared a plan of sorts. Some component heads were not even appointed before the deployment commenced. Unfortunately, this planning shortfall was never corrected in Cambodia, except in the case of the military and electoral components which forged a necessary planning and control alliance to see the election through.

Sanderson’s criticism is a major one, as it clearly points to problems raised in the case of specific operations by the classic dilemma of cooperation between military and civilian elements. Paradoxically, such cooperation is often more difficult to obtain than dialogue between

either element and its counterpart in the country of intervention. Sanderson (1994) also commented on this issue:

The reluctance of some civilians to work with the military in an integrated environment is an established fact with missions. It is not simply the linguistic and cultural barriers that have to be broken down, but sociological ones as well. UN civilians are generally individuals rather than team members. Very few of them have any leadership training, and not many have previous experience working with the military. Some, particularly those coming straight out of academia have a positive aversion to the military.

It goes without saying that if General Sanderson’s statements are true, numerous civilians would contend that military personnel also have considerable difficulty working with civilians. Although it is unnecessary to pursue this debate in depth here, it does clearly reveal the need to rethink UN strategies of intervention so as to tie operational tasks more closely to the mission’s goals. In the elaboration of such strategies and of the necessary variations meant to accommodate regional and national differences in countries of intervention, it is vital to accord a more important role to NGOs already present in the field, not only by recognizing their greater field experience but also by integrating them, where appropriate, into UN mission components. In the Cambodian case, examples of cooperation were numerous, but examples of integration or even of attempts at concerted action in operating horizontal communications among UNTAC components were rare.

In sketching out what may still be a premature evaluation of Canada’s role in Cambodia, it is essential to distinguish two periods: one covering the years between the Vietnamese intervention in Cambodia and the 1989 Paris Conference; and a second one covering the period during which Canada participated in UNTAC.

The first period was marked by Canadian condemnation of Vietnamese intervention, expressed in Canada’s annual support for the UN resolution demanding the withdrawal of foreign troops from Cambodia. Although Canada unambiguously condemned the Pol Pot regime, it nonetheless extended diplomatic recognition to the Khmer Rouge as the sole legitimate Cambodian government and supported the coalition government-in-exile, of which the communist faction formed the central element. Canada — alongside the ASEAN nations, China, and the United States — maintained a hard line toward the government in Hanoi so as to force the evacuation of Vietnamese troops from Kampuchea.

Above and beyond the merits of this objective, questions remain about Canadian intransigence toward Viet Nam, a position resembling that adopted toward China during the 1950s and 1960s. In fact, the answers are relatively simple: Canadian foreign policy with regard to Indochina adhered closely to traditions of multilateral diplomacy, the strict respect for Canadian commitments to its traditional allies, and fundamental reservations about involvement in East Asian security matters. During this period, Canada was also reluctant to offend either the ASEAN states or China, nations of central importance to its commercial strategy in Asia. Thus, until the Paris Conference in 1989, Canadian policy on Indochina, and particularly on the Cambodian imbroglio, lacked the kind of initiatives, or even declarations, that would have led observers to conclude that Ottawa had interests in the region other than those related to the humanitarian concerns of the Canadian population toward the boat people.

In other words, Canada followed in the wake of a coalition, without feeling the need to formulate its own analyses or courses of action. Was such caution justified? And did it produce acceptable dividends in the end? Nothing is less certain, given that no particular country in the region insisted that Canada adopt such an intransigent and inflexible code of conduct. On the contrary, my opinion is that if Ottawa had played a more active role in searching for a solution both to the Cambodian conflict and to other regional-security issues, Canada’s credibility would have grown in a manner more coherent with the new foreign-policy priority it accorded the Asian region. Why, for example, did Canada abstain during this period from supporting Prince Sihanouk’s effort to find an acceptable resolution to the Cambodian problem through dialogue between the Khmer factions? It is, of course, always possible to vaunt the merits of this sort of recommendation after the fact; however, I was already recommending this course of action, among others, in 1988 (Hervouët 1988).

In fact, some Canadian decision-makers thought that too many countries were already engaged in trying to reach a solution. They were convinced that any Canadian proposal would complicate an already highly complex process. However, I still think that Canada was, at that time, too shy. My information and interviews indicated that most Asian countries would have welcomed a greater involvement of Canada, which was regarded with considerable respect and as being the only country able to advance neutral proposals.

Canada’s participation in the first Paris Conference on Cambodia in 1989 marked the debut of a process of reflection on the role Canada

might play in regional-security matters. Canada discovered at that point that its image and credibility were very good but that the expectations of a Canadian intervention in Cambodia would be commensurately high. According to Job and Langdon (1993, p. 289), virtually all nations participating at the conference recognized and still perceived Canada

as having particular expertise and resources relevant to the Asian scene — in peace keeping, verification, surveillance, monitoring and associated confidence-reinforcing technologies — in the organization, design and delivery of development assistance programs.

Canadian participation in the UN operation in Cambodia was thus something more than its habitual contribution to a peacekeeping mission. It was a test, a test of the desire clearly expressed by External Affairs Minister Joe Clark at the beginning of the 1990s to see Canada take initiatives in Asian security.

In a speech entitled “Canada and Asia Pacific in the 1990s,” delivered before the Victoria Chamber of Commerce in July 1990, the Minister took Canadian policy on Asia and the Pacific beyond its traditional trajectory in one sweep, declaring that “our ties to the Pacific go well beyond trade and investment  . . . the problems of the Pacific are not Pacific problems; they are Canadian. Prosperity in the Pacific is prosperity for Canada. And security in the Pacific is Canadian security” (Clark 1990a, p. 2). With those few words much had changed, even though nothing suggested that Canada had the military resources to become any more involved in regional security than it already was. In fact, the essential message of the speech, repeated in Jakarta, Tokyo, and finally before the UN General Assembly, lay in Clark’s intention to establish a Northeast Asian security dialogue.

Christened the Canadian Initiative for a North Pacific Cooperative Security Dialogue, “the basic thrust of this initiative was to assert a more visible Canadian presence in the region  . . . commensurate with its political and economic interest and its proven multilateral capabilities” (Job and Langdon 1993, p. 289). The proposed initiative provoked a variety of reactions, particularly in Japan and the United States, which were content to maintain bilateral diplomatic initiatives in security matters. Furthermore, by focusing on Northeast Asia, the initiative would exclude Southeast Asia, an exclusion poorly viewed by ASEAN, which “initially viewed the Canadian proposal as an unwelcome, out-of-region initiative” (Henderson 1992/93, p. 114). It would seem curious that the Canadian proposal excluded a zone in which Canada was on the verge of deploying its troops.

Indeed, initiatives and active diplomacy in Northeast Asia coexisted and contrasted strangely with a military intervention in Southeast Asia that was accompanied, paradoxically enough, by a greater degree of diplomatic passivity. This observation could be the subject of another long analysis. Suffice it to say that, henceforth, the Canadian initiative better dovetailed with the interface between the two East Asian subregions. Nevertheless, the fact remains that Canada did not take full advantage of the opportunities provided by the Cambodian situation to prove even further its intentions of participating in regional-security mechanisms. Despite the effectiveness of its Cambodian presence and the remarkable performance of Canadian personnel in the civilian and military components of UNTAC, Canada remained on the margins of the important decisions, cautious in its initiatives and slow to establish a diplomatic presence in Phnom Penh and Hanoi.

Despite the difficulties the Canadian population has had in coming to appreciate the significance of this new reality, Canada is now unavoidably dependent on the state of regional security in the Pacific Basin. Tying in more closely to East Asian economic structures confers new power on Canada, but also it also brings new responsibilities. Any future intervention may thus prove as complex as a Canadian operation in a hypothetical conflict between two members of the European Community would be. In the future, it will no longer be possible to intervene in the region in the sole interest of being “present” or of ensuring the perpetuation of the Canadian peacekeeping tradition through the “neutral” deployment of military personnel. Canada clearly has multiple interests at stake, and its credibility with regard to security matters is now intimately linked to its economic performance and to the density of the complex and varied relations it maintains with each East Asian state.

RECENT DEVELOPMENTS

Events in July 1997 suddenly put the Cambodian instability back into the limelight. Once again, the Khmer country found itself in a state of dramatic uncertainty, given that the “democratic transplant,” sprung from the intervention of the UN in 1993, had not held. The fragile coalition between the FUNCINPEC and the CPP broke down following a coup d’état by Co-Prime Minister Hun Sen. His counterpart, Prince Norodom Ranariddh, who was out of the country at the time, has remained in exile, as did his father after he was a victim of a coup d’état in 1970.

On 5 and 6 July 1997, the armed forces, the majority of which were faithful to Hun Sen’s CPP, seized the capital, Phnom Penh, and nearly all the provinces. Several months before, Prince Ranariddh had managed to obtain the defection of thousands of Khmer Rouge and was ready to conclude, with Khieu Samphan (the faction’s new leader), an agreement to put an end to 34 years of guerrilla warfare. According to the periodical Far Eastern Economic Review (21 August 1997, pp. 14–15), the Khmer Rouge forces were about to recognize the constitution, dissolve their “provisional government,” and integrate their troops into the regular army. This historical agreement apparently provoked a notable purge within the Khmer Rouge, particularly the eviction of Pol Pot — the sinister chief, whose recent images have reopened the deep scars left from his executions.

The coalition, sprung from political will but legitimized by the elections and the National Assembly, also split. To mark his disagreement with the policy for reintegration of the Khmer Rouge, Hun Sen seized the occasion to brutally remove Ranariddh. The instability led to the postponement of Cambodia’s admission to ASEAN. The international community has remained attentive and has disapproved of the political breakdown of the democratic process that was thought to have been established, at great cost, under the auspices of the UN.

As I have underlined in this study, the assessment of the UN intervention remains the object of controversy and qualified opinions. The success of the electoral process and the massive turnout of the Cambodian electorate remain the most satisfying elements. One would not question the success or ascribe its fragility to the imposition by the UN of one of the most important elements in a democracy.

One can certainly question, however, the premature or precipitate character of the achievement of the electoral process. And the remaining components anticipated by the UN demonstrated highly mitigated — even negative — results. In fact, after the conclusion of the 1993 election, the international community, particularly the UN, was constrained by respect for the sovereignty of the new Cambodian state from interfering in the rivalries between the CPP and FUNCINPEC.

Showing little respect for the commitments of a legitimate process, the Second Co-Prime Minister Hun Sen recently expressed a wish to occupy Cambodia’s seat at the UN while threatening to prevent the UN from supervising the Cambodian election, scheduled for May 1998. Needless to say, the UN must maintain a certain coherence between affirming the success of 1993 and refusing to give in to a kind of blackmail that would underline, once again, that one can lose an election but still regain power by force and a fait accompli.

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