Seventeen years ago, a senior member of Cambodia’s government was asked why the country seemed indifferent to the sexual exploitation of its children by expats. He replied thus: “Do you not think that Cambodians do these things yourself?”
Contrary to its reputation as a haven for Western paedophiles, Cambodia has long harboured a secret shame: the majority of child sex offenders that plague its provinces are not from far-off lands, but native Khmers – a phenomenon not readily admitted by the proud descendants of Angkor.
“Cambodian men are interested in child sex because they believe – and this belief has existed for many years – it can help build or maintain their strength,” said Chin Chanveasna, executive director of End Child Prostitution and Trafficking (Ecpat). “Local demand hasn’t been brought to the ttention of the public because the offenders are rich and powerful.” Ecpat prompted headlines in 2010 when it released a report in which all but one of 43 child sex workers interviewed said their clients were Cambodian. Although Chin Chanveasna described the findings as “surprising”, on closer examination they are anything but.
The misconception that sexual depravity is a foreign problem arose following the arrival of the United Nations Transitional Authority on Cambodia in 1991 (Untac). Such was the sexual appetite of the 22,000 soldiers, police officers and administrators who made up the peacekeeping force that, within two years, the number of prostitutes in Phnom Penh swelled from 6,000 to more than 20,000. As Cambodia struggled to regain stability, the clamour from Cambodian men for underage prostitutes threatened to outpace that of the Untac forces. Between 1992 and 1993, figures from the Cambodian Women’s Development Association suggest, the average age of girls entering commercial sex dropped from 18 years to between 12 and 15.
For the men who offend, the lure is linked inextricably to myths of luck, prosperity, even immortality. The pursuit of virgins is a distinctly Asian preoccupation, according to the International Office for Migration, which in 2007 reported that only 9% of virginity-seekers in Cambodia were of Western origin.
In The Virginity Trade, a documentary by British film-maker Matthew Watson and screening at Meta House, one such buyer describes the forces that drove him to deflower a child. “Cambodian culture regards virginity as very important. It is most sought after by Cambodian men, so I decided I was ready to pay for the thing men want the most. I was told that if I had sex with a virgin girl, it would increase my powers; enhance my beauty. That is, stay young forever.”
This concept of sexual alchemy can be traced back to Taoism, a web of philosophical and religious traditions that has been shaping Asian beliefs for more than 2,000 years. In Secret Instructions Concerning The Jade Chamber, a fourth-century Taoist text on harmonising male and female energies, the author describes the potential rewards:
‘Now men who wish to obtain great benefits do well in obtaining women who don’t know the Way. They should also initiate virgins [into sex], and their facial colour will come to be like [that of ] virgins. However, [man] is only distressed by [a woman] who is not young. If he gets one above 14 or 15 but below 18 or 19, it is most beneficial… The masters preceding me, who transmitted the Way to each other, lived to be 3,000 years old. Those who combine this with medicines can become immortal.’
Almost 1,000 years later, similar impulses were being etched into the walls of Angkor Wat, seat of the mighty Khmer empire between the 11th and 13th centuries. One inscription describes Jayavarman II’s infatuation with a woman of ‘perfect body; of irreproachable face’ waning when he realised she was ‘already deflowered’. Another speaks of the king being pleasurably aroused by ‘a virginal and enchanting wife, awkward in revealing her charms’.
Within the temple city of Angkor, prepubescent girls were ritually de-flowered by Buddhist priests. Visiting Chinese diplomat Tcheou Ta-Kuan witnessed one such occasion in 1296. Once a year, he wrote, the authorities chose an astrologically auspicious day for the ceremony. Girls aged between seven and 11 would be summoned to a deflowering chamber built by their parents, often deep in the jungle. Here, the priest would spend the night alone with the girl, emerging the following morning with a vessel of bodily fluids believed to possess magical, restorative powers.
The practice, known as chen-t’an by the Chinese, had swept across Asia by the 13th century, but the beliefs at its core would prove even more enduring – and nowhere more so than among the political elite. Reports of the personal life of Mao Zedong, founder of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 and responsible for 70 million deaths, make reference to young virgins being brought to his bed on a regular basis. The chairman believed it “would help to restore and reinvigorate a man’s health and vigour”, a sentiment that would be echoed 25 years later by the ultra-Maoist leaders of the Khmer Rouge, who, despite banning sexual relations between ordinary citizens, retained for themselves the feudal rights to deflower virgins.
Religious prostitution has since ceased, but the pursuit of child sex continues. So cheap is Cambodia’s supply that by 2006 Chinese men accounted for 60% of virginity-seekers in Phnom Penh. So highly prized is virginity in China that, until 2009 when it provoked outrage among conservative lawyers in Egypt, one Chinese company, Gigimo, distributed an Artificial Virginity Hymen Kit. The $30 product, designed to be inserted and then ‘broken’, helps women fool men into believing they are still virgins – culturally important in societies where pre-marital sex is considered illicit. The product has since been withdrawn.
Some believe it can prevent and cure HIV/Aids, a powerful motive in a country where many older prostitutes carry the virus. Although it sounds primitive, it’s a belief that straddles every strata of society – even the moneyed elite, among the most frequent offenders. “Most of the customers who had sex with virgins were Cambodian high-ranking officials,” one prostitute at a beer garden says. “People tried to keep a low profile regarding this problem, so that not many people knew about that.”
The modus operandi of virginity-seekers often involves the promise of marriage, a significant amount of money or both. Within a few days, however, the perpetrator has usually fled. A Singaporean revealed many wealthy Asian businessmen – including offenders from Korea, Japan and Taiwan – tour Cambodia’s provinces, paying up to $4,000 for virgin girls held captive in private homes while potential buyers are brought in. The average age of the girls is 11.1 years. What makes these violent acts of exploitation possible is the desperate plight of a faltering, post-conflict economy erected on the twin pillars of corruption and impunity. This, along with the social conflict that accompanies accelerated modernisation, has created a gender-dysfunctional society in which women are expected to act both as guardians of tradition and economic providers.
“In the past, the role of women was upholding the sovereignty of the nation on the battle field,” says Mu Sochua, opposition lawmaker and former minister for women’s affairs. “You can see on the bas reliefs of Angkor, women holding spears. One of the former leaders on trial, Ieng Thirit, is also a woman – the brains behind the Khmer Rouge.” It was in the wake of the Khmer Rouge’s collapse in 1979 that, for Cambodia’s women, the real battle began. “Most of the men were killed, but women came back and we reformed the land on our own,” Mu Sochua says. “We’re out now in the factories due to economic necessity, but because this is a time of peace, our culture expects us to be the woman in the home.”
In 1993, the new Constitution promised an unprecedented age of gender egalitarianism – a promise it has failed to deliver. Women’s primary role in Khmer society is still to embody purity and those who challenge that expectation are treated harshly. “In many senses of the word, from physical virginity to moral and mental purity, it is carved in stone – and if your culture is carved in stone, it is extremely difficult to change,” says Mu Sochua.
The tenets behind this mentality can be found in the Chbap, moral treatises combining popular custom with Buddhist principles. The rules for girls, Chbap Srey, were adopted as the basis of the new curriculum in 1979 as the few teachers who survived Pol Pot scrambled to rebuild the nation’s education system. According to the Chbap Srey, young women have a duty to remain a virgin out of ‘gratitude’ to their parents, and any girl ‘indecent enough to venture out alone at dawn, noon or twilight’ risks being raped.
The gender imbalance is reinforced in the Khmer proverb ‘Men are gold, women are cloth’, which suggests boys can be washed clean, but once a girl is stained, she’s ruined for life. This sense of jengjom, or ‘filial piety’, helps perpetuate child prostitution to this day. Mothers sell daughters into sexual slavery to repay the debt of raising them; the social stigma attached to being a victim of rape, the act often committed by male relatives or neighbours, drives other girls to seek out sex work voluntarily. Underpinning these decisions is the Buddhist notion of karma, which results in many women simply accepting their fate.
This mother’s tale is typical of many: “My living was desperate and I was in debt. I had to sell my daughter to someone. I sold her for $300. My daughter has to work for the [brothel] owner for one year to pay back the $300 debt. Now I’m thinking of taking my daughter back. I feel so sorry for her. I love her so much.”
In 2010, the US Department of State removed Cambodia from the list of countries not doing enough to combat human trafficking, while acknowledging the relevant laws are at best patchily implemented. The decision met with ire from human rights activists, who pointed to the department’s own Trafficking In Persons report, which notes that police raids on brothels are often linked to non-payment of bribes. Detained prostitutes are regularly raped.
While this climate persists, responsibility for reducing local demand falls primarily to the non-governmental sector. Some advocate education, others condone a more punitive approach. Asked by Ecpat what would change their behaviour, most Cambodian men took a different view. Campaigns that raise awareness and encourage buyers to rethink their role were identified as potentially effective by 78.6% of respondents. Less than 50% listed prosecution. The Cambodian Defender’s Project offers legal representation to victims of trafficking. Executive Director Sok Sam Oeun concedes that changing men’s mindsets will take generations. Until a few years ago, the legal age of consent was not specifically determined in Cambodian legislation, but was widely understood to be 15. “The problem is custom versus modern law,” he says. “In Cambodian custom, when a girl reaches puberty, she is considered an adult. Some police officers don’t even know the legal age is 18.”
Unravelling a cultural phenomenon “set in the mind as much as it is set in stone” requires a seismic shift in gender norms. “All that you can’t change by arguing between preserving culture and advancing human rights,” says Mu Sochua. “It has to be equal: that’s what we need to teach society. That’s why we need to change the proverb to ‘Men are gold, women are precious gems.’”
WHO: The girls of Cambodia
WHAT: The Virginity Trade and Girls Of Phnom Penh screening
WHERE: Meta House, #37 Sothearos Blvd.
WHEN: 7pm December 28
WHY: “It has to be equal: that’s what we need to teach society.” – Mu Sochua
