On September 21st, the world will observe the United Nations' Global Peace Day and to celebrate, the women behind the incredible documentary film, Pray the Devil Back to Hell have organized community screenings around the world.

Don't miss this great opportunity to connect with other supporters of peace and watch this breathtaking film. The WIP was incredibly fortunate to have peacemaker Leymah Gbowee join us in November 2008 for our event, Women as Social, Political and Economic Agents of Change in New York City. Her experiences organizing women to peace to Liberia are nothing short of awe inspiring.

Click here to see a complete list of screenings worldwide!

It was two in the morning when we first heard the loudspeakers. My friend was annoyed thinking the noise was coming from people partying late, but we later learned something very different was happening. I got up early that morning to eat breakfast before a long day at the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng. Walking downstairs, I saw about a hundred people outside our hotel in Phnom Penh including press, local police, and the Cambodian military.

• The Dey Krahorn eviction underway in Phnom Penh. Photograph by Sarah Grime. •

We stopped to talk to Kevin Knight, who works in a different slum with an NGO. He told us that the development company 7NG, along with the ruling party in Cambodia, the Cambodian Peoples’ Party (CPP), were responsible for the evictions. Dey Krahorn was located in a prime location in downtown Phnom Penh and worth an estimated US$44 million.

Kevin explained that the 150 families living in the slum had been negotiating with 7NG in the weeks prior to the evictions. The company offered each family US$20,000 or an apartment in a resettlement site named Cham Chao, located at least 16 kilometers from the center of Phnom Penh.

At first this seemed like a reasonable offer, but what I failed to realize is that the residents of the slum had livelihoods, access to water and education, and other things that the city center offered. The majority of people living in Dey Krahorn made a living as street vendors, so if forced into a location with a reduced population they would lose their incomes.

The truth of what was happening just a few hundred yards away was finally settling in. Why was all of this happening here, I wondered, and why now? I learned that because of all of the foreign investment in the area (including our hotel), land prices had dramatically increased. According to the Cambodian League for the Promotion and Defense of Human Rights (LICADHO), slum evictions are not a new phenomenon in Cambodia. The country is suffering from a classic case of the rich getting richer while the poor get poorer.

According to the United Nations Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights in Cambodia, “The eviction was carried out in the middle of the night, with bulldozers, tear gas, rubber bullets, batons, and workers equipped with sticks and axes contracted to demolish the houses… The residents were thrown onto the street to watch their homes being destroyed.” A friend of Kevin’s who had been inside the slum when the eviction started described a woman collapsing in front of her house and bulldozers that continued to plow into her, sending her to the hospital with injuries.

After speaking with Kevin and other foreigners in the area, I realized how much the past really does influence the present. In order to understand what is happening in present day Cambodia, it is necessary to look to history, especially the period immediately following the Khmer Rouge.

When the Khmer Rouge came into power they wanted to make everyone in the society equal, which meant destroying money, books, private possessions, and land titles. During the period from 1975-1979, the cities of Cambodia were cleared out as the people were made to live and work in rural areas. After the fall of the Khmer Rouge in 1979, the people came flooding back into the cities. Since all of the land titles had been destroyed, people grabbed whatever they could, and the cities, especially Phnom Penh, became home to thousands of “squatters”.

Not everyone I spoke with explained the situation in the same manner. Some were sympathetic to the residents of Dey Krahorm, while others believed the government and 7NG were taking the required actions for the city to further “develop”. I was told by several people that the majority of the residents in Dey Krahorn had legal rights to their land. Some families were “squatting” illegally, but according to the Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE), around 140 families living in Dey Krahorn had been there since the 1980s and were given rights to the land under the Cambodian Land Law (2001). Not only do the residents meet all of the preceding requirements, they have documentation to prove it.

According to Amnesty International, Cambodia is a state party to the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) and “has an obligation to protect the population against forced evictions… [the evictions at Dey Krahorn] show all too clearly how little respect Cambodian authorities have for these requirements”. Another person added that while the residents had been living in Dey Krahorn for years, the land was owned by the government so it was free to be taken at any time.

Regardless of the exact legal situation of the slums in Phnom Penh, it’s clear that Cambodia’s land title situation is in peril. A quick search for the land laws of Cambodia reveals relentless confusion in the period following the Khmer Rouge. We are only just starting to see the severe affects of the land laws today, as foreign investment and rapid growth in Phnom Penh cause once worthless land to become a precious commodity.

Christine's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Christine Robinson grew up in the Chicago area and completed her undergraduate work at the University of Iowa with a BA in International Studies and Spanish. She is currently studying at the Monterey Institute of International Studies where she is pursuing a MPA in International Management. In her spare time, Christine enjoys sports, travel and studying languages.

“Can you hear me? Can you hear me, through the dark night, far away?” The voices of the children resonated in the one room schoolhouse on the outskirts of Battambang, Cambodia. Two young boys shared a lyrics sheet with me, and as I sang along to Rod Stewart, I could not help but smile from ear to ear.

• TTA offer health services and respite to HIV-positive Cambodians. Photograph by Pushpa Iyer. •

I smiled at her and bent down to eye level, hoping I could get her to smile back, but she just stared at me with those big brown eyes. Ky Lok explained that she was one of the HIV patients. My heart dropped as my professor Pushpa Iyer bent down, pinching her cheeks and whispering to her that she was beautiful. I held back tears as we entered the second room of the clinic where we learned about the obstacles patients at the clinic face in accessing anti-retroviral drugs.

As we followed Ky Lok out of the room, I looked back towards the little girl’s room and saw her standing just outside the door staring at us. Pushpa and I looked at her, then at each other, and then back again. We were both thinking the same thing…we wanted to pick her up, play with her, and make her smile even if for just a few minutes.

I picked her up and lightly tossed her up into the air. She broke into a huge smile and let out a giggle and in that moment, the world was perfect. Minutes later, I rejoined the rest of the group, but this time with a different attitude. Granted, a piece of me was angry, another was saddened…but on the whole I was inspired and hopeful.

Currently, Cambodia is a post-genocide society engaged in a peacebuilding process. In Asia, Cambodia has one of the highest rates of HIV infection. According to Global Health Reporting there were an estimated 70,000 adults and 4,400 children living with HIV/AIDS by the end of 2007. The northwest region, especially the rural areas, is the most vulnerable to the spread of the infection. Cambodian society, like many other societies worldwide, shuns and isolates HIV/AIDS victims.

To combat the lack of awareness and understanding of the disease in the northwest region, TTA, is not only confronting the challenge of HIV/AIDS, but is also simultaneously building trust within society - both challenges to peacebuilding.

TTA is more specifically aiding in the social reconciliation process under the umbrella of peacebuilding. While in Cambodia, I realized that the importance of reconciliation within the peacebuilding process is multifaceted, and failure to build peace on the basis of each facet is detrimental to the success of the process.

According to an NGO worker that we met along our journey, reconciliation is close to peace if it is done in a serious manner. He felt that Cambodia has been successful, to a certain extent, in achieving a level of political reconciliation through the creation of the tribunal, but is still lacking in terms of social reconciliation. Social reconciliation, he said, touches on emotions, memories, and the future. He stressed the importance of creating a trust, defined as a “social knowledge of where we can find a comfortable place to communicate with each other,” in order to have true social reconciliation.

TTA, through its efforts to combat HIV/AIDS, is able to create this atmosphere of comfortable communication that lends itself to building a level of trust within society. Tean Thor has a unique way of opening the eyes and minds of those living in the community in order to provide a supportive atmosphere for victims of HIV/AIDS. The most striking qualities of TTA that became apparent to me as we toured its premises were its engagement of monks to remove the stigmatization associated with HIV/AIDS, provision of vocational skills, inclusion of traditional herbal remedies, improved access to anti-retroviral treatments and shelter, and its integrative school system.

The most uplifting part of the entire trip for me was the classroom. Often times, those living with HIV/AIDS are isolated from the rest of the community and feared by their own people. TTA has an integrative classroom that allows children living with the disease to obtain the same education as other children. In having a school that does not distinguish those with the disease from those without, TTA is able to break the stereotypes, reduce discrimination, and consequently create a space for trust in the community.

As I sat on the edge of the wooden bench absorbing the beautiful voices of Cambodian children, I realized just how much hope was actually in that one classroom. I was witnessing the transformation of a generation of youth that, thanks to TTA, would not be fearful of each other but would instead understand and embrace each other regardless of HIV/AIDS.

Their voices became one as they sang, “Can you hear me? Can you hear me, through the dark night, far away?” and I thought to myself, “Yes. We can hear you.” Tean Thor Association and its dedicated workers have given a voice to these children, incorporating them into the peacebuilding process and creating hope for the future of Cambodia.

Sarah's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

From Batesburg-Leesville, South Carolina, Sarah Grime received her Bachelor of Arts from Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York. She is a candidate for a Master of Arts in International Policy Studies, specializing in Human Rights and Conflict Resolution at the Monterey Institute of International Studies. Sarah extensively researched and continues to study a range of issues including immigration between the United States and Mexico, specifically the disappeared women of Ciudad Juarez, as well as HIV/AIDS worldwide. She interned for a Latino advocacy program and continues her human rights advocacy efforts in studying Latin America and East Africa at the institute.

The Phoenix police department has called it "one of the most horrific cases" they've ever seen. Two days ago, an 8 year old girl was lured into an apartment shed by four boys ages 9 to 14 with promises of gum or candy. For the next ten to fifteen minutes, they took turns raping her. A passerby dispersed them upon hearing the heart-wrenching screams.

Naturally, area residents are shocked. How could such a young girl be raped in broad daylight, by such young boys, and within earshot of neighbors? Worse, it seems that she knew the boys; according to CNN, one of the attackers may even have been a cousin. If the story ended here, it would be disturbing enough.

Yet it doesn't end here. The family, you see, is ashamed of the girl. Disgusted with her for 'allowing' herself to be raped. Embarassed to have attracted such negative attention. Worried about the tensions that this drama will create between themselves and their neighbors, who are all from the same refugee group. Her father was reported as saying that he didn't want her back.

She has been shunned. The Maricopa County Attorney has promised that its office will "seek justice" for the girl, who has already been placed with Child Protective Services. The oldest boy is expected to be charged as an adult.

Liberia. It seems so far away from Phoenix; most of us probably never give it a second thought. But now we are left with a puzzle that we can't solve. We don't understand what it means to be a refugee, or how that cataclysmic experience binds friends and families together with different rules than those that govern our neighborhoods. We don't understand the omnipresent threat of rape that previously pervaded their lives, and how that constant risk has made parents hold their daughters responsible for whatever befalls them. We don't understand what it means to have lived in a shame-based culture, and how that alters the individual's relationship to the whole. We don't understand how complicated the process of assimilation truly is, and we resent "these people" moving here with their "backward" ways and crimes against women.

And they don't understand us. They don't understand that they will NOT be shunned by American society because their daughter was raped, but only conversely if they disown the young victim. They don't understand that family issues can't be resolved according to the family patriarch; that domestic violence issues must be resolved in court. They likely don't understand that rape is prosecuted as a serious crime, or what it means to be tried as an adult. They see that things are spiralling out of control, that the media has invaded their small enclave, and that they are being shamed. It is only natural to close ranks.

Obviously, we have to take a stand. American society has made too much (although still not enough) progress on the issues of rape and domestic violence to start making exceptions for immigrant communities. We can hardly say, "Well, in your culture this is permitted, so go on ahead." In many cases, the US legal system is the only life preserver available to the victim; and if justice truly is blind then it must be applied evenly, regardless of a resident's cultural background.

Yet long term, I wonder if this hard line is going to benefit their community or ours. A young girl already severed from her homeland will now grow up without her parents or community. A young boy who may or may not have understood the gravity of his crime is going to be charged as an adult - perhaps as retribution for they community's decision to shun the girl. And the community itself will close itself off further, lessening its chances for the kind of assimilation that promotes social mobility.

From start to finish, it is a bitter tragedy. All that we can hope is that Phoenix and other major metropolitan areas will develop task forces to improve the ties with these communities - before another tragedy strikes.

As an Iranian woman living in exile, I am interested in sharing the history and experiences of the women's movement against the Mullah regime in Iran. Educated in Germany, I now live in Camp Ashraf in Iraq, home to 3,400 Iranian dissidents including 1,000 women. I hope to share more information about the lives and activities of Iranian women inside Iran and also those who are living currently in Camp Ashraf. I hope to give a voice to the brave men and women in Iran who are struggling against the religious dictatorship and who cry for freedom.

Women have occupied a significant leading role in our movement against the religious fundamentalism in Iran and the misogyny that it perpetuates. The difficult circumstances, the traditional environment in Iranian society and the mullahs' vehement and misogynistic savagery has served as an obstacle for women to stay active, but by virtue of their successful struggle in the past decades, Iranian women of all ages and backgrounds have found their place at the forefront of the resistance.

Tens of thousands of these women were killed and many more tortured in the clerical regime's prisons. Some who survived are now among the women residing in Camp Ashraf, full of energy and experience for bringing freedom and equality to the people of Iran.

Besides their crucial role in the organized resistance, women also became indispensable to most expressions of anti-government protest across the nation. The recent Iranian people's uprising clearly showed the tremendous potential of Iranian women as leaders in the fight against the country’s fundamentalism. Not only do they enjoy absolute equal rights in the resistance, but they have also overturned the male dominated value system by taking on key positions of leadership and management. Women account for more than half the members of the National Council of Resistance of Iran, the parliament in exile, and all of the Iranian Democratic Opposition's (PMOI) leadership council.

Taking into account the background, history and culture of Iranian society, Mrs. Maryam Rajavi, the President elect of the National Council of Resistance of Iran has emphasized her views on women’s rights in a free Iran as follows:

In the future Iran, all personal freedoms concerning women have to be recognized, including the freedom to choose one's clothing, freedom of opinion, religion, employment and travel

Complete gender equality in social, political, cultural and economic arenas

An equal share in the society's political leadership

Complete freedom to choose husbands

Equal rights to divorce

An end to polygamy

The criminalization of all forms of physical, sexual and psychological violence against women in the work place, educational centers, households and elsewhere

Legal recourse for victims of violence

The banning of sexual exploitation under whatever pretext

The drafting of civil laws based on international conventions about the rights and freedoms of women, specifically the Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women and the Declaration on the Elimination of Violence Against Women

These are the freedoms that we fight for and this is what all women of Iran deserve.

It was around midnight when I jumped into a tuk-tuk (a colorful metal box built upon a rattling motorcycle) with a couple colleagues to explore Bangkok’s nightlife. Strong aromas from street food vendors filled the air while hundreds of tourists squeezed through the overcrowded sidewalks lined with little white tented stalls selling everything from fake Gucci bags to forgettable souvenirs.

• A rose seller poses for pictures in Bangkok's red light district. Photograph by Melissa Booth. •

The obvious concern that came to my mind was: How could this young kid selling roses be out this late at night, and especially in a place like this?

After visiting the Asia Foundation in Bangkok, I was completely unprepared for what I learned. One of their pamphlets described a similar situation in Chiang Mai, Thailand where children selling roses within the red-light districts become targets of another group of tourists. Sex tourists lure them in with large sums of money, and these children, motivated with the desire to make money for their family and the desensitization from working in the red-light district, will often give their consent.

In Cambodia, I did not see any obvious signs of red-light districts, massage parlors with girls waiting outside or kids selling roses. Instead there were dark alleyways off the main roads where you could barely see a few people just standing around waiting. Though sex tourism within Cambodia is hidden from average tourists, it is still accessible just outside the main cities, while in Thailand it blends in with the country’s overall culture. However, both of these countries are centers of source, transit and destination for trafficked persons.

Human trafficking victims are often desperate to support themselves and their families financially. Living in extreme poverty, many young children are forced out into the streets to beg or hawk, increasing their risk. This vulnerability, coupled with a strong presence of tourists, can easily provide the conditions for human trafficking.

In Bangkok we visited the Center for Protection of Children’s Rights (CPCR), a local Thai NGO working to protect victims. The center provides victims with jobs in their shelter, teaching them new skills to take back to their home country, or helping them obtain a temporary legal work permit to work in Thailand.

In Phnom Penh we visited World Vision, which focuses on the rehabilitation and reintegration of trafficked victims back into Cambodia society. These rehabilitation efforts dig deep to attack the root causes of the problem. This healing process promotes activities that help kids feel like kids again, and provides help with their education, their relationship with their parents, and trust building.

Many of these organizations work only with female victims, but World Vision is starting a new project called “My Son.” There is a large gap in the availability and protections of male victims of human trafficking. We heard a saying at World Vision describing boys as gold and once dirty can be washed off and shine again, while girls are like a white cloth and are soiled and stained afterward.

As more reports of trafficked male victims surface, the more attention those victims will be able to receive. Thailand has recently passed new legislation which bans all forms of human trafficking, and has included labor trafficking and men within this category for the first time.

Human trafficking is a global issue. The problems of enforcing human trafficking laws and protecting male victims are improving, but still need significant work. Human trafficking must be fought from a variety of different angels: through the government, both by enforcing and creating laws and severe punishments for the perpetrators; society, by educating and advocating awareness of the problem in order to prevent any forms of acceptability; and individual, to improve the economic situations of those at risk so they don’t resort to the desperate measures that often lead to being victimized.

Brandon's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

A California native, Brandon Brunner is now pursuing his Master’s at the Monterey Institute of International Studies, specializing in Conflict Resolution. Returning from Cambodia, Brandon has continued to research the effects of global modern day slavery, namely human trafficking. Brandon obtained a Bachelor of Arts degree in Political Science from California State University San Marcos, focusing on the Americas and Global Security. This summer Brandon will return to Chiang Mai, Thailand with The SOLD Project to volunteer with the Volunteer for Children's Development Foundation (VCDF) working with street children and survivors of human trafficking.

My heart raced as we zoomed past lush green fields under the blaring noon sun. Perched precariously on a motorcycle with only a thin Cambodian kroma to cover my very sunburned thighs, I clung to the back of the driver (who spoke not a word of English) and prayed he would not crash us into a palm tree.

• A woman in rural Cambodia prepares sugar cane. Photograph by Christine Williams. •

We reached the canoe, in the thick of heat and mosquitoes. About a mile into our journey, a rural water world emerged before us. Our canoe guide gently navigated us through silver waters, snaking through a fishing village of bamboo huts raised on stilts that towered over us. Soon we entered the much-anticipated flooded forest, a beautiful aberration of nature like none I have ever seen. Hundreds of quiet trees, slender, graceful, and out of their element in a river that swallowed their trunks, had succumbed to circumstances beyond their control, but grew tall and beautiful nonetheless.

When I got home from Cambodia I met a couple that had vacationed in Siem Reap. They too had gotten excellent massages, visited Angkor Wat, and returned with beautiful scarves, but in their experience of Cambodia, I was shocked to find they had missed the point. Although Cambodia’s beauty tugs at the heart regardless of the lens used to view it, a holistic understanding of the country is impossible without acknowledging the 1975 genocide and the resulting societal challenges it has posed to peacebuilding. The group I had traveled with studied Cambodian societal divisions through a conflict resolution perspective, learning about the country’s overwhelmingly traumatic history. For me, true sadness lies in this couple’s ability to gloss over Cambodia’s current fragility.

Theory abounds about the psychology of Cambodians, the history behind the genocide, and the prevalent social injustice in Cambodia today. However, during my stay I encountered someone who, in describing the path his life had taken, gave me far more insight into human suffering than any theory ever could.

One night our group climbed the oldest temple of Angkor Wat at sunset. Here I met a Cambodian man who seemed the paradigm of simple kindness but whose still waters ran deep. He had survived the Khmer Rouge era and told me his story, piercing the theoretical padding I had intended to use as a defense mechanism during my field research.

Born in 1958, he was 17 years old when the Khmer Rouge invaded his city and began the mass exoduses into the countryside and the forced labor that characterized the occupation. The man smiled as he described how as a boy he would periodically sneak into his neighbor’s farm with a friend. The two boys stole sugarcane from the trees and learned how to extract sugar from the plant, a skill that would later save their lives (the Khmer Rouge valued this ability and forced them to employ it during the occupation). Gradually, my friend told me, he became a “human ghost” and watched Cambodia become a “country of girls,” emaciated by forced labor and starvation. One day his father told him that he was now head of household. The Khmer Rouge then killed his father and his brothers, and my friend was left to attend to his mother. He looked at me putting his hand on his chest and said, ”She died of a broken heart.”

During the genocide, he said he forgot how to smile. Becoming emotional, I tried to remind myself that this man’s story is just one of many throughout the entire country. Watching the sun disappear behind the horizon, I asked whether he knew of the Cambodian memoir, First they Killed My Father, which I had read prior to the course. He grew pensive and said that no film or novel could convey the truth of the genocide.

My friend in Angkor Wat was right; stories fail to convey reality. Caught somewhere between tourist and student, I’m frustrated with the inability to convey the truth of my experience in Cambodia, let alone the Cambodian “experience” itself. As much as I would like to use the flooded forest as a metaphor for the “resilience” of Cambodians, human beings are not trees, and there is a limit to how beautiful and tall a person can grow in the midst of social injustice.

Christine's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Christine Williams was born in San Francisco and has lived for the majority of her life along Northern California’s coast. She completed her undergraduate degree in language studies at the University of California at Santa Cruz, and is currently working toward a Master’s Degree in International Policy Studies with a concentration in Conflict Resolution at the Monterey Institute of International Studies. Though she had originally intended to pursue a degree in Development at MIIS, during her first conflict resolution course the relevance and potential of the field drew her in, and has since provided her with strong motivation to keep learning.

A new set of revelations by soldiers who participated in the Israel Defense Forces' (IDF) operation in Gaza offers a disturbing picture of the actions carried out in that territory. Testimony regarding their conduct in Gaza by Breaking the Silence, an organization of Israeli soldiers, confirms previous denunciations by human rights organizations and signals that urgent attention must be paid to the economic and medical needs of a repeatedly abused civilian population.

Operation "Cast Lead" was initiated December 27, 2008 and ended January 18, 2009. Over 1400 Palestinians were killed, 900 of them civilians (65%), including 300 hundred children (22%). Extensive areas of Gaza were razed to the ground and thousands of people were left homeless, even months after the operation ended. The economy of Gaza was all but destroyed.

"Much of the destruction was wanton and resulted from direct attacks on civilian objects as well as indiscriminate attacks that failed to distinguish between legitimate military targets and civilian objects. Such attacks violated fundamental provisions of international humanitarian law, notably the prohibition on direct attacks that failed to distinguish between legitimate military targets and civilian objects (the principle of distinction), the prohibition on indiscriminate or disproportionate attacks, and the prohibition on collective punishment," states Amnesty International in its July 2009 report entitled "Operation ‘Cast Lead': 22 days of death and destruction."

Among the tactics used by the Israeli military was the repeated firing of white phosphorus shells over densely populated areas of Gaza. White phosphorus ignites and burns when it enters into contact with oxygen up to 1500 degrees Fahrenheit (816 degrees Celsius) until nothing is left or there is no longer any oxygen. Severe and persistent skin burns can be produced, and even burns on less than 10% of the body can be fatal because of damage to the liver, kidneys and heart.

The IDF claims it only used white phosphorus as a smokescreen. However, if the IDF intended it as such, it had a readily available non-lethal alternative -smoke shells produced by an Israeli company, concluded Human Rights Watch (HRW). In addition, HRW stated that the IDF had deliberately or recklessly used white phosphorus munitions in violation of the laws of war.

There has been a persistent effort by several actors to deny Palestinians in Gaza their basic humanity and needs. "Gaza is an example of a society that has been deliberately reduced to a state of abject destitution, its once productive population transformed into one of aid-dependent paupers. This context is undeniably one of mass suffering, created largely by Israel but with the active complicity of the international community, especially the US and the European Union, and the Palestinian Authority in the West Bank," states American political scientist and scholar Sara Roy, writing for The Harvard Crimson.

Israeli forces frequently obstructed access to medical care and basic humanitarian aid for those Palestinians who were wounded and trapped. In addition, states Amnesty International, "Israeli soldiers used civilians -including children- as "human shields, endangering their lives by forcing them to remain in or near houses which they took over and used as military positions."

Amnesty International reported that hundreds of civilians were killed in attacks carried out using high-precision weapons -air-delivered bombs and missiles, and tank shells. Others, including women and children, were shot at short range even when they were posing no threat to the lives of Israeli soldiers.

An infant aged 6 months, Nancy Sa'di Wakid, was the youngest Palestinian killed in Gaza. She died as a result of inhaled gas from phosphoric bombs dropped by the Israeli army. A poem by Jane Kenyon entitled Sandy Hole is a painful reminder of her untimely death,

The infant's coffin no bigger than a flightbag....
The young father steps backward from the sandy hole,
Eyes wide and dry, his hand over his mouth.
No one dares to come near him, even to touch his sleeve.

"The IDF is one of the world's most moral armies and operates according to the highest moral code," stated at the time Ehud Barak, Israel's Defense Minister. Uri Avnery, a former Israeli soldier and a leading Israeli human rights activist offers an alternative opinion, "Only one conclusion can be drawn from this: from now on, any Israeli decision to start a war in a built-up area is a war crime, and the soldiers who rise up against this crime should be honored. May they be blessed."

César Chelala, MD, PhD, is a co-winner of an Overseas Press Club of America award. He is also the foreign correspondent for Middle East Times International (Australia).

Parallel to the economic revolution in China is a sexual revolution, particularly among youth, which is having far-reaching consequences on their health and quality of life. Since feudal times, sex has been a taboo subject in China. Even today, despite progress in many areas, many Chinese, especially the older generations, consider sex shameful or dirty and refuse to talk about it. Young people's opinions differ greatly from those of their parents. At the same time, boys and girls are becoming sexually mature at a younger age.

An increasing number of Chinese adolescents are engaging in premarital and unprotected sexual activity. As a result, unwanted pregnancies, abortions and sexually transmitted infections, including HIV/AIDS, are on the rise. China is now in the early stages of a major HIV/AIDS epidemic.

It is estimated that more than 240 million people in China are between 15 and 24, and that some 20 million more people enter adolescence every year. Such a significant segment of the population needs to be informed about sexual matters. A survey conducted by the State Family Planning Commission among 7,000 people, ages 15 to 49, found that 89.2 percent of respondents in cities and 74.6 percent in the countryside agreed that high schools should offer sex education courses. Yet, only in recent years have the first textbooks on sex education been published and distributed in schools.

Not only is the rate of underage pregnancies growing, but the age at which adolescents become pregnant is declining. In some hospitals, up to 40 percent of those receiving abortions are unmarried mothers.

Worldwide, an estimated 14 million adolescent girls give birth every year, while about 4.4 million girls have abortions. The 2001 edition of the Almanac of China's Health reports that approximately 10 million induced abortions are performed annually in China -- with 20 to 30 percent done on unmarried young women.

Under Chinese law, a parent or guardian must approve an abortion performed on a girl of 18 or younger. Thus many pregnant girls who fear their family's reaction go to back-street abortionists or quacks that may endanger a girl's life.

Some risk factors increase the probability of adolescent pregnancy, such as familial instability, the adolescent pregnancy of a sister, a mother with a history of adolescent pregnancy, pressure from friends, low socio-economic status, ignorance of one's own physiology and the use of contraception, poor communication with parents and a lack of discussion of sexual problems.

Unwanted pregnancy in adolescents can have devastating effects because it delays or halts an adolescent's personal development. There is loss of autonomy and more dependence on parents. Group relations are interrupted since pregnant adolescents cannot continue their normal activities at school or work.

In addition to abortions following unwanted pregnancies, forced abortions are still practiced in China, despite its having been prohibited by the central government in Beijing, as a way of enforcing the government’s one-child policy.

Education continues to be one of the most powerful ways to teach young how to develop an optimal state of physical and mental health. To be effective, educational materials about sexual issues must be reviewed periodically and their message adapted to the various social and cultural groups they address.

Because sex has been a taboo subject for so long in Chinese society, some parents themselves should be educated not only about sexual topics but also on how to maintain a productive dialogue with their children and how to keep the communication channels open with them.

At the same time, the mass media could help remove the taboo regarding adolescent sexuality by helping to redefine social norms and modifying attitudes. There should be constant discussion among parents, teachers, and health and social workers in programs that involve adolescents’ well being.

Cesar Chelala, M.D., Ph.D., is the author of the Pan American Health Organization publication Health of Adolescents and Youth in the Americas.

On February 17, 2009, former Khmer Rouge leader Kaing Guek Eav, widely known as Duch, became the first to take the stand in what has come to be recognized as one of the most monumental tribunals of the century. Over the course of the coming year, Duch and four others accused of orchestrating the Khmer Rouge atrocities of 1975-1979 will be tried for war crimes and crimes against humanity – a process that, many hope, will bring a sense of closure and justice to the millions of genocide survivors.

• Buddhist monks met with the group in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Photograph by Pushpa Iyer. •

Ashley's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Ashey Starr Kinseth is currently pursuing a Master of Arts in international human rights and development policy at the Monterey Institute of International Studies in Monterey, California. Kinseth recently completed her Bachelor of Arts at New York University’s Gallatin School of Individualized Study, where she studied a combination of international affairs, political economics, human rights, and world languages. She currently works as the Coordinator of Social Responsibility for Kinseth Hospitality Corporation, a family-owned hospitality management company in her hometown of Clear Lake, Iowa.

“The tribunal can only be considered a success if it brings Cambodian society face to face with its history and leads to a better public understanding of the events of 1975-1979.” – Khmer Rough Tribunal, edited by John D. Ciorciari

• Cambodia's International Tribunal trial chambers. Photograph by Adam Kogeman. •

Throughout my excursion to Cambodia I was readily intrigued, challenged and blindsided by the ideas of justice throughout the country. As I spoke with individual upon individual, I was faced with the fundamental question: In a country that has been so traumatized by violence and bloodshed and in a land whose people have been stripped of their humanity and parts of their soul, how can an International Criminal Court, aka the Khmer Rouge Tribunal, insist on a form of justice that potentially serves no justice for the majority of the people?

It was within this Cambodian world where, what had previously appeared to be idealist Western notions of justice, had ultimately become complex and convoluted ideas saturated with polar definitions of justice decreed and justice attained. In my attempt to breakdown the Khmer Rouge trials and what it represented both internationally on a human rights scale and domestically in regards to justice for the Khmer people, two things became clear to me: I was no longer in my element where the scales of justice were the platform for which all deeds and misdeeds were to be governed, and secondly and perhaps most importantly, justice defined for Cambodian people had a very different scope, necessity and depth.

Throughout the country I came across stories of survivors who detailed with exact precision, time and emotion, their daily existence of slavery and torture during the Khmer Rouge period. I listened as their memory recall quickly evolved into tears and reminders of fear, death and violence. As the tone switched into the present Khmer Rouge Trials, I wanted to know what they thought about the usefulness of such government action and in turn, if they felt this “institutionalized justice” was improper, what then would be an appropriate and fitting result to such a dark and tortuous time?

The answer, although simple and raw in its presentation, floored me: “The tribunals are political and do nothing for the people. We want admissions, apologies, rationales, and social justice.” It leaves me questioning the force and magnitude that “justice” should play both domestically and internationally. That is not to say that there were not timeless accounts from other survivors who believe the tribunals are in fact a proper end to the Khmer Rouge time. Many feel that having top officials tried in an international court is a legitimate and weighty comeuppance of personal and social accountability. But, it is due to the staggering divide between the two trains of thought that I began to re-evaluate what justice is and more importantly, what it means to people who seek it?

I find myself attempting to draw a connection between the capacity of the courts to hold “evildoers” accountable and the journey of the person who is seeking admissions and social reconciliation. With this true separation of thought amidst a country that is attempting to rebuild itself, the lingering question remains as to whether these trials are proper means of support in that journey or a true obstacle on the road to recovery? What remains if sentences are given to these elder leaders despite their ages and the years since they perpetrated such violence, but who remain silent still in their apologizes, explanations or personal accountability? Is that truly an effective form of justice? Or, is it, like so many Cambodians echoed, simply a political ploy by the international community to save face against the backdrop of such a dark cloud on our world’s history? Alternatively, it is also possible that the trials simply represent the process of bringing closure to the Khmer people in most documentable of fashions while providing an opportunity for the Cambodian government to emphasize to their citizens that such human rights offenses will not go without consequence.

Unfortunately, each of those questions, along with countless others that do not begin to breach the surface of whether or not there is a proper retributive process that would heal such open wounds, are open ended and for each survivor to answer within themselves. Is it enough for a government to hold trials and attach sentences to those in the twilight of their lives despite their own personal accounts of victimization and abstention in their refusal to answer the screams and cries for accountability?

However, if we are to use justice defined as “the moral principle determining just conduct” then the argument could be made that institutions such as the ICC hold no weight in the discussions of moral accountability. If the only sentence a court is able to enforce is a punitive one where does moral accountability come into play? How is there to be a moral principle established when punitive and corporal punishment do not consider moral accountability when holding trials and handing out sentences?

As circular as the question is, so too is my search for the answer. I wish we lived in a world where the answers to the questions that people seek were easily found and neatly presented. Instead, we must constantly search for our own faith, redemption, closure, and at times, even our own justice. Unfortunately, although there are instruments in place that help us on each of those journeys, there are no overarching solutions for populations as a whole. Inevitably what may work for one may leave a path of destruction for another. And, in the same breath, what may be a suitable and enforceable sense of justice for one, could be nothing more that a placated, apathetic and dry solution of hollow assurances for another.

My hope is that whether it is restorative or retributive, the justice served in Cambodia is sharp enough to penetrate the souls of the victims who seek it and is absolute enough to heal many of the wounds that still bleed from years of silence, empty promises and apathetic ears.

Naseem's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Naseem Ghaffari is an Iranian-American woman living in Monterey, California. In the rare moments when she’s not contemplating life’s next steps, she enjoys watching documentaries and political pundits evaluate banter, listening to BBC radio and quiet Sunday mornings of coffee, reading and outdoor adventures.

Naseem recently graduated from the Monterey Institute of International Studies where she received a certification in Conflict Resolution and Negotiations. Prior to that time, she studied law in San Francisco and has been writing since her early years at University. She is now searching is now looking forward to a career in International relations and peacekeeping.

This year, I spent approximately two weeks with a group of fellow graduate students exploring challenges to peace-building in Cambodia as part of our conflict resolution studies. When I returned to the States, friends and family invariably asked about the “killing fields”. To many Americans, it seems, the most well-known aspects of Cambodian history are the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge from 1975-79. I too, admittedly, knew little more about Cambodia before visiting than the fact mass-killings had occurred there.

• Skulls on display at the killing fields. Photograph by Adam Kogeman •

During the U.S. war in Vietnam, Cambodia was embroiled in a bloody civil war between the communist Khmer Rouge, backed by China and North Vietnam, and Cambodian government forces backed by the U.S. From 1969-73, the U.S. military covertly carpet-bombed eastern Cambodia in an attempt to disrupt North Vietnamese operations and defend the government against the Khmer Rouge, causing the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Cambodian citizens. For a country which at the time had a population of about 6 million, the losses were enormously devastating. Amongst the Cambodian populace, resentment grew against the U.S. and what was perceived as the American “puppet government” in Phnom Penh. The Khmer Rouge represented resistance to the U.S. and consequently, as bombs continued to fall, Cambodian citizens flocked to join them.

Former New York Times reporter Sydney Schanberg, renowned for his experience in Cambodia at the time, said the Khmer Rouge “... would point... at the bombs falling from B-52s as something they had to oppose if they were going to have freedom. And it became a recruiting tool until they grew to a fierce, indefatigable guerrilla army.” Eventually, the Khmer Rouge were able to overwhelm the government forces and establish control over Cambodia, leading to Pol Pot’s “agrarian revolution”, the killing fields, torture centers and loss of some 2 million Cambodian lives.

In his memoirs, former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger has denied the U.S. is at all responsible for the rise of the Khmer Rouge. He claims “It was Hanoi - animated by an insatiable drive to dominate Indochina - that organized the Khmer Rouge long before any American bombs fell on Cambodian soil.” Certainly, the U.S. is not solely to blame for the Khmer Rouge’s rise to power. China and the Vietnamese communists provided the Khmer Rouge with much support and it was an organic organization, its ranks filled with willing, patriotic Cambodians. Citizens cheered in the streets, warmly welcoming the Khmer Rouge when their tanks rolled triumphant through Phnom Penh in 1975. Nevertheless, their triumph might not have been guaranteed had it not been for the influx of support they received during the bombings.

To what degree, then, is the U.S. accountable for what happened in Cambodia from 1975-79? My desire to examine the issue was triggered when, in Cambodia, I was afforded the opportunity to speak with survivors of that dark time. As the group and I were exposed to horror stories from Cambodians who had lost entire families, been forced to work as slaves and/or nearly starved to death, it became clear that the U.S. bombings were a key part of their narratives.

One woman, who now works at a peace-building NGO, expressed that she was so distraught by the daily bombings her village suffered and so thoroughly angered with the U.S. that she eventually sided with the Khmer Rouge and served as a propagandist throughout their time in power. She did not hesitate to say that her anger with the U.S. continues to this day. Though other survivors were more reluctant to openly criticize the U.S. in front of us, it was obvious to me that most felt similar contempt and resentment.

The fact that, invariably, bitterly recounted descriptions of the bombings prefaced stories of surviving the Khmer Rouge leads me to believe that there is little to separate the U.S. bombings and Khmer Rouge brutality in the minds of Cambodian survivors. Who better to determine accountability than those who most directly suffered? It is impossible to say for certain, but to me such personal accounts are a powerful condemnation of the bombings and evidence that the U.S. government at the time was significantly responsible for what occurred thereafter.

Whether the bombing of Cambodia from 1969-73 was conducted out of hubris or mere ignorance of geopolitical realities, it is apparent that it led, whether directly or indirectly, to massive suffering and the deaths of a full one-third of Cambodia’s population at the time. Perhaps worse, the dysfunction caused by that tragedy continues to profoundly affect Cambodian society to this day.

“Whatever short-term battlefield advantage the raids bring pales in comparison with the long-term danger posed by the resentment they cause…”

Adam's blog entry is part of a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Adam Kogeman is a second year graduate student at the Monterey Institute of International Studies in Monterey, CA, specializing in international development and conflict resolution. He will receive an M.A. in International Policy Studies in December, 2009. Adam conducted language acquisition research during his undergraduate career at the University of Arizona and worked for the U.S. Department of Defense prior to enrolling in graduate school. He plans to pursue a career in microfinance upon graduation. He is originally from Claremont, CA.

On a late afternoon near the end of our trip, the thirteen of us students sat in a dimly lit room drinking coffee and listening to another heart-wrenching story. A man was kindly recounting his personal experience during the Khmer Rouge period - one more ghastly, moving, and extraordinary tale. In the midst of his quiet chronicling, his wife said, “Tell them about the birds.” As he pondered her request, his face smoothed over and he took a long look at the ceiling. He then told us something remarkable. He remembers distinctly that in the years under the Pol Pot regime, there was a physical change in the landscape.

• The killing fields in Cambodia. Photograph by Adam Kogeman. •

Silence and the Khmer Rouge

In interviews taken later, former Khmer Rouge guards reported that their elevation to positions of authority gave them, for the first time in their lives, the experience of having power over someone. Humble farmers and peasants were transformed into influential men and women with commanding voices. However, their feelings of power were starkly contrasted to the utter hopelessness suffered by a vast swath of the Cambodian population. For these people, the ability to speak was stolen from their mouths by the regime’s methods of terror and dehumanization. Silence became a central strategy for survival under the communist Khmer Rouge.

In 1975, Pol Pot instituted an agrarian revolution in which all members of society except peasants and poor farmers were marked for eradication. Almost anyone could be designated as an enemy of the party and executed, but professionals, academics, artists, and students were especially targeted. Urban residents, French-speaking Cambodians, Cham Muslims, ethnic Chinese, and Vietnamese nationals living in the country were also deemed disposable. Because of this constant threat of violence, silence became the key to staying alive. If identities could be satisfactorily hidden, if education, bilingualism, urban upbringing, or ethnicity could be masked, there was a chance to escape slaughter and face the odds of survival laboring in the rice fields. Remaining quiet, with head down and hands working, was one of the only ways to survive.

Cultural Silence

Though the Cambodian people we met were endlessly kind, flashing us big beautiful smiles, there is still a distrust that lingers in their minds. This fear, a reaction to the violence wreaked upon the country throughout the Vietnam war and later by the Khmer Rouge, shaded many of our discussions with NGOs, Buddhist monks, Khmer youth, and even regular people we met each day. It was not uncommon to ask a Khmer man for his thoughts on the government and have him look over his shoulder and lower his voice when responding. He may even decline to respond at all. Women too had stories locked tightly away, and only those who had become accustomed over time to sharing their experiences would let the memories bubble up.

Apart from the fierce effect the Khmer Rouge had on Cambodians, there is a more organic and cultural dimension to silence. In a country where 95 percent of the population is Buddhist, there is a traditional and religious significance to preserving quiet.

The Buddhist saying, “Do not speak unless it improves upon the silence,” reflects the importance of silent wisdom and careful discourse. Silence paves the path to inner peace and is enshrined in the teachings and lives of the orange-robed monks that dot the Cambodian landscape. Correspondingly, Cambodian culture does not emphasize or honor verbal communication as do other, often Western, cultures. Instead, symbolism is a fundamental attribute of Cambodian interaction; “talking” does not serve the people as well as gestures, symbols, and deeds.

Yet the cultural tradition of silence does not always outweigh the merit of confronting trauma and processing grief. One Cambodian NGO we visited empowers local people through community reconciliation, and it was noted that the organization’s first task when it began was to “open mouths.” Once people were taught that they need not be silent anymore, they began to overcome their aversion to dialogue and embrace the catharsis of open reflection.

Each year in Cambodia, the Tonlé Sap River performs a remarkable feat. When the rainy season starts, the country’s other major waterway, the Mekong, swells and pushes the Tonlé Sap back, reversing its flow. It is a river that runs two ways. Silence in Cambodia is as difficult to comprehend as this annual phenomenon of the river. Cambodians’ willingness to speak was forced to retreat in the face of terrifying brutality. This cycle of fear and powerlessness still persists in the country today. Silence is the tool of the damaged soul, it is fear and oppression, it is wisdom and acceptance. Cambodians can live with the uncertainty of a river that flows both ways, and so do they gracefully confront the ambiguity of silence in their lives and culture.

Melissa's blog entry is the first in a two-part series written by WIP Contributor Pushpa Iyer's students. In the coming weeks, more entries will follow. Part I, "Legacy, Responsibility, Justice and Spirituality" will contemplate how Cambodia is coping with its painful past. Part II, "Identity, Sex Trafficking, HIV/AIDS and Property Rights" will explore some of the challenges modern-day Cambodia faces. – Ed.

Melissa Booth is currently working as a summer fellow for Polaris Project in Washington, D.C. With a background in Latin American politics and culture, she has studied at the University of Chile in Santiago and interned with the State Department in Honduras. Since the inception of her advanced degree program in Conflict Resolution last year, Melissa has become fascinated with peace and conflict studies in South East Asian and East African societies. She is pursuing a master’s degree at the Monterey Institute of International Studies and has a B.A. in Global Studies from the University of California, Santa Barbara.