Chapter 10 shows how Vietnam exposed the limits of existing constitutional war-powers practices and set the terms of the postwar reforms. The Gulf of Tonkin Resolution and later appropriations enabled a strategy of gradual escalation, while executive secrecy helped widen the battlefield into Laos and Cambodia. The chapter traces the legal rationales that treated escalation and cross-border operations as commander-in-chief choices, and it examines how Congress, once committed, was slow but ultimately able to constrain the war through hearings, statutory limits, and proposed restrictions. Courts largely refused to adjudicate the war’s legality so long as there was some mutual participation by the political branches, leaving Congress as the decisive checker. In Vietnam’s aftermath, lawmakers pursued reforms that narrowed attention to war initiation through the War Powers Resolution and expanded intelligence oversight through the Hughes-Ryan Amendment and the Church Committee; they also joined the Executive in ending the draft and building an all-volunteer force. These reforms reflected a period of restraint, and later activism would strain them again.

The attack on the SS Mayaguez by Cambodia in 1975 is directly related to the US principle of freedom of navigation. On May 12, 1975, the US-flagged container ship SS Mayaguez was seized by Cambodian Khmer Rouge forces while it was transiting in international waters in the Gulf of Thailand, near the island of Koh Tang. President Gerald Ford quickly ordered military action to rescue the crew and defend freedom of navigation. The incident occurred just days after the fall of Saigon. The Ford administration feared that allowing the seizure to go unchallenged would embolden adversaries to interfere with US ships or challenge freedom of navigation. The US launched a military response to recover the ship and crew. The operation included air strikes on Cambodian targets, as well as a US Marine assault on Koh Tang Island, where it was initially believed the crew was being held. During the operation, 41 US servicemen and hundreds of Cambodians were killed. Later it was discovered that the Khmer Rouge already had released the crew, although this was not known at the time of the operation.

This chapter looks at some of the experiments of international governance by the United Nations typically listed as cases of international administrations (West Irian, Namibia, Cambodia and Eastern Slavonia). These United Nations peace missions have been considered as international administrations by numerous scholars, in the same category with Kosovo and Timor-Leste and sometimes on par with these two experiments in terms of effective authority deployed by international officials. I will be arguing that contra this opinion generally based on the reading of the mandates, international officials have displayed only limited political authority over these territories. Through archival work conducted in the United Nations Archives, revealing in specific instances the hidden transcripts of the time, I will be analysing each of these cases in turn, and adding a few other cases as well including Cyprus, El Salvador, Mozambique, Western Sahara and Somalia.

The start of the Cold War left Thailand and Cambodia in different places, with Bangkok firmly planted in an anticommunist alliance with the US, and Cambodia caught in the confluence of an ideological conflict in its own backyard. As the US entered its “unipolar moment” and China slowly emerged from its imposed isolation, Thailand and Cambodia have altered their respective foreign policies. This chapter, employing a historical perspective, charts the course of Thai and Khmer foreign policy across three distinct periods: the turbulent Cold War era when Phnom Penh and Bangkok struggled amid perceived internal and external threats, the post-Vietnamese occupation era of Cambodia and an era of some democratization in Thailand between 1980 and 2000 and an era of authoritarian political consolidation in both countries during 2000–2014, and the current era, when a still-fragile Thai government with strong linkages to China governs Bangkok and power in Cambodia has been transferred to Hun Manet. Broadly, this chapter argues that the waning influence of the US has strengthened China’s ties to both countries.

Chapter 10 analyses the Marxist development model favoured by Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos until about 1990. The chapter examines collective agriculture and assesses the Pol Pot regime in Cambodia.

Genocide is a contested concept with normative, legal, political, and empirical dimensions, each pulling in different directions. The chapter emphasizes that, in addition, a fundamental contradiction exists in the concept: The legal definition, anchored in an international treaty, dominates the social sciences, even though the legal definition is problematic for the specification of a particular type of violence. The concept is thus perpetually trapped between legal and empirical imperatives, rendering it unwieldy for the social science objective of isolating a particular type of phenomenon. The chapter rejects the solution of jettisoning the concept, instead proposing a set of solutions for how to retain the concept and separate it from its legal origins. The chapter concludes by arguing that such solutions are unlikely to carry the day, but that social scientists should still seek to develop a rigorous conceptualization of the term that allows for the identification of specific types of political violence. Finally, a postscript offers an interim assessment – from the perspective of this chapter – of the war in the Middle East that began on October 7, 2023.

This chapter synthesises the findings of the previous five chapters, weaving the distinct strands into a cohesive picture of micro-political constitutional contestation in Cambodia. As such, it highlights key themes that have run throughout the empirical cases, including ideas about authority and legitimacy, imposition and legal transplants, processes of translation, and the relationship of constitutions to ideas of order and stability. While drawing on lessons from Cambodia, I emphasise the comparative applicability and insight of the approach, and its associated range of methods. Hence, the chapter also contains comparative references to similar practices in other jurisdictions, focusing primarily (though not exclusively) on jurisdictions in Asia. Rather than striving to provide a comprehensive set of comparison, this section overtly aims to be indicative: drawing attention to instances where existing literature on constitutions has already discussed micro-political contestations without explicitly acknowledging or analysing them as such, and gesturing towards places where a similar approach would elicit new and important insights. Fundamentally, it argues that viewing constitutions in authoritarian regimes merely as ‘shams’ obscures more constitutional reality than it illuminates.

Opening with an anecdote about a political analyst who was admonished – and threatened – in the media by then Prime Minister Hun Sen for having the temerity to publicly question the constitutionality of a government policy, this introductory chapter introduces the reader to one of the central themes of the book – contestation over the ‘ownership’ of the constitution and the right to constitutional interpretation. After an overview of developments in the comparative constitutional studies literature, which highlights the extent to which ‘top-down’ and ‘court-centric’ approaches still prevail, I go on to explain how an approach to micro-political constitutional contestation can help illuminate constitutional practices that might otherwise be left hidden in the shadows. The reader is then introduced to the Cambodia case study: first, through an abbreviated account of Cambodia’s modern political history, and then via a more detailed explanation of the specific factors that have shaped constitutional practice in recent years. The chapter closes with some reflections on methodology and an overview of the structure of the book.

The only chapter to focus primarily on the state, Chapter 3 examines the way in which the Constitution has been understood ‘from above’ by the ruling Cambodian People’s Party (CPP). Specifically, it focuses on the CPP’s weaponisation of constitutional language and process, as exemplified by debates over the protection supposedly provided by parliamentary immunity and by the Supreme Court’s 2017 decision to dissolve the CPP’s primary electoral opponent, the Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP). These examples, I argue, provide powerful and prescient examples of the way in which constitutional procedure, rather than being entirely overridden by the government, has in fact been used to undermine what would otherwise be considered some of the key normative contents of the constitutional document. In particular, I suggest, the constitutional language of ‘stability’ and ‘public order’ provide a subtext for the CPP’s reading of the formal Constitution that legitimises – or even necessitates – the overriding of democracy. As such, this chapter suggests that, rather than reflecting an absence of constitutionalism and rule of law, Cambodia can in fact be understood to exhibit characteristics of a ‘thick’ strain of ‘authoritarian constitutionalism’ that is rooted in a privileging of ‘law and order’.

This chapter shows how local lawyers and NGOs have sought to challenge the practice of ‘authoritarian constitutionalism’, including in the courtroom. Yet, even when the courts appear to take centre stage here, the audience and message for courtroom performances are unexpected. This chapter explains that lawyers who articulate constitutionally-framed arguments in high-profile court cases often see themselves as speaking first and foremost to journalists and NGO observers in the gallery, and thus to the local public and international stakeholders to whom those observers in turn report. To the extent that courts play a role in constitutional practice, in other words, they do so as a stage on which contestations can be performed for a wider audience. Hence, this chapter develops a concept of an ‘extended legal complex’, which seeks to capitalise on the ruling party’s desire to maintain at least a semblance of fidelity to the legal process to articulate critiques of alternative interpretations of the Constitution before a national and international audience. The chapter then explains how the Cambodian People’s Party has sought to neutralise this threat to their constitutional legitimacy by politicising the Bar Association, thereby hamstringing the work of activist-lawyers and legally complicating their relationships with local NGOs.

Shifting the focus of constitutional enquiry almost entirely beyond the reach of state institutions, this chapter highlights the extent to which newly imposed constitutional norms have, since 1993, fundamentally challenged understandings of the relationship between religion and politics in Cambodia. Constitutional language, the chapter demonstrates, has come to infuse internal debates within the Buddhist Sangha, where constitutional guarantees of universal suffrage sit awkwardly alongside traditional expectations of monks existing above the corrupting world of secular politics. With the state having declined to intervene, despite requests for it to do so from Buddhist leaders, this chapter shows how the sangha has itself become a site of micro-political constitutional contestation, as many monks have come to understand themselves as having a dual identity as both religious figures and as citizens. Meanwhile, I go on to show, the constitutional extension of the franchise to Buddhist monks coincided with an increased political activism within the sangha, as some monks have interpreted this dual identity as justifying – or even requiring – the adoption of a more ‘engaged’ approach to social- and environmental-justice issues.

Expanding the horizons of constitutional practice further, this chapter shows how the meanings and implications of the Cambodian Constitution – and particularly the mandate it gives the state to protect Cambodian culture and tradition – have been shaped by artists, filmmakers, and performers. The chapter begins by introducing the reader to the Ministry of Culture’s ‘Code of Conduct for Artists and Performers’, which was introduced in 2016. Then, drawing on interviews with a number of artists from around Cambodia, as well as representatives from the Ministry of Culture, I suggest that the Code of Conduct represents a profound and widely shared anxiety about the meaning of modern Cambodian culture and national identity. In negotiating this fraught terrain, Cambodian artists explain how they have either directly challenged or avoided the regulations. In so doing, this disparate group has elaborated its own interpretation of the Constitution, and offered its own definition of the ideas of ‘national culture’ and ‘good traditions’ contained therein. The result is both a micro-level account of constitutional contestation and an exploration of how art, culture, and constitutionalism intertwine, as the artists in question effectively shape the meaning of the Constitution from below, and thus effectively become constitutional actors themselves.

Richard Nixon stimulated the greatest antiwar activity in 1970 with the Cambodian invasion. Massive student protests in the spring grew spontaneously and by fall many campus activists channeled their energy into electoral campaigns. Liberal groups joined them. Government leaders, especially in the US Senate, tried unsuccessfully to restrict the war’s continuation. Leftists and radicals made a splash through the spring New Mobilization demonstrations and with the reemergence of Vietnam Veterans Against the War, but by year’s end the coalition split along ideological lines. By late 1970, mass demonstrations planned by umbrella coalitions were giving way to events conducted by single sponsors. This also reduced the movement’s radical presence. From this point antiwar activism appeared more locally and regionally, even as it retained national impact. Local actions, such as during the national student strike, often appeared and operated without waiting for national coordinating bodies to catch up. Most antiwar events occurred on college campuses and in local communities, not in Washington, DC, and they continued even when the lack of national demonstrations made it appear inactive.

Over the last few decades, the concept of Indigeneity has gained traction in Cambodia and Thailand, partially because of its potential to assist Indigenous Peoples in gaining more control over contested lands and forests. The Cambodian government recognizes Indigenous Peoples and their communal land titles. Since 2009, when a sub-decree was issued for registering Indigenous communities and their lands, dozens of villages in northeastern Cambodia have obtained communal land titles. The government of Thailand, however, does not officially recognize the existence of Indigenous Peoples. Nevertheless, the concept of Indigenous Peoples is gaining support in Thailand. Over the last few years, Indigenous activists in both countries have increasingly engaged in electoral politics. The Cambodia Indigenous Peoples’ Democracy Party (CIPDP) contested the commune and national elections of 2017 and 2018, respectively. In Thailand, Indigenous activists have also become more involved in electoral politics, especially during the 2019 national elections, when the first ethnic Hmong person was elected to Parliament. This Indigenous engagement in electoral politics represents a new strategy to gain more cultural and language rights at the legislative level, as well as tenure over land and other natural resources.

Antiwar protest and debate about morality both increase with the US invasion of Cambodia. The killings at Kent State University unleash protests at numerous Catholic colleges and universities. An increasing number of clergy, religious, and even bishops speak out against the war. Pressure builds on the hierarchy to issue a definitive statement of the morality of the war. At year’s end, the bishops issue their “Resolution on Southeast Asia,” which finally does so.