The Power of Education and the Frailty of Memory

By Anne Rodriguez

[1] The Killing Fields focuses on two major problems that plagued Cambodia: US intervention and the radical communist Khmer Rouge’s deadly reign. A lot of the original project here by Wendy Kuhn focused on the first problem, so I want to focus on the second problem. In fact, although I strongly disagree with the US involvement and bombing of Cambodia, I think the more interesting and more important part of the historical time period and of the movie is the terrifying reign of the Khmer Rouge.

[2] As Americans and babies of the end of the Cold War, we are taught to believe the evilness and corruption of communism. Actually, communism itself is a form of idyllic government/society based on equality and community. It has many appeals, including a classless society, strong sense of community and belonging, and promotion of hard work (paired with the economic system of socialism). These attractions are why so many different societies have tried to implement it, including some groups in the US. The important thing to understand is that it is an ideal society. As pure democracy can never be achieved, neither can pure communism. The system isn’t a problem, especially because it is too ideal for reality; the problem lies in the way regimes try to implement a communist society. So instead of bashing communism, we should look into the reasons why so many communist leaders become power hungry and why their regimes are so deadly.

[3] In The Killing Fields, the most eye-opening scene for me was Pran’s first inner monologue to Sydney (1:32:29). In the communist societies we’ve witnessed, one major aspect is reeducation classes, for adults and especially for children, to solidify the new communist regime. That’s why this scene struck me; my father is Cuban and was only six when Castro’s communist government took over. My grandmother did not have the money yet to get them out of Cuba, but she did not want my father attending school, learning Castro’s communist reeducation. Instead, she hid him with a relative who had a farm on the beach. He stayed out of school for a year and then was sent to America. I was never quite sure why the communist schooling was bad until I saw this scene. I want to focus on the images of the communist children and Pran’s thoughts (in a voice-over).

[4] The scene focuses on the education of children, how the Khmer Rouge molded them into hardened communists that tolerate nothing but allegiance. We first see children in the first group education class. Adolescent boys perform a march as young children watch with impressionable eyes. The little children are fascinated by the older boys’ march, which shows pride, loyalty, and order, and the adults merely look on out of fear of punishment. As the march and the speech end, everyone claps, but the boys look victorious. They sit at the front facing the adults, which suggests their importance and power they have over the adults. The children are the extra eyes for the party; with their innocence and curiosity, they can catch any insincerity or uprising.

[5] The next part of the scene is the special education class for just the children. A group of young children sit as a teacher is giving a lesson. All the children look alike, wearing the same clothes and fashioning the same hairstyle. This implies that the Cambodian communists value allegiance and community above all. The children aren’t separate bodies to educate and nourish but are one communist entity, in which the party needs to foster power for the future. One child is picked to demonstrate a lesson about family; he crosses out the parents on the chalkboard and erases the connection between child and parent. The chalk children of the family are still together holding hands, as one communist entity, but the parents are unimportant and dead to the chalk children. The child passes the lesson and all the youth clap enthusiastically. Pran watches in disbelief and horror. The children are happy.

[6] In the next part of the scene an adolescent child takes away Pran’s tomato plants as younger children watch. Pran is pained as they ruin his food source, and the audience truly sees how much power the children have over the adults. One girl can ruin the starved but brilliant Pran. The young children clap in approval and simply walk away from Pran, while the girl stares at Pran with eyes drunk with power and as steely as death.

[7] The last part of the scene involves the confessions of the adults admitting to prior
knowledge, class, and wealth. As each adult raises his hand in confession, the young children at the meeting clap with sincerity and pride. To the children, the adults’ confessions mean an acceptance and reverence to the party. To the party, they mean betrayal and cause for punishment. Although the young children are oblivious to the true meaning of the confessions, the older children understand. The adolescent girl who destroyed Pran’s vegetables also destroys the confessors’ lives. She watches for disobeyers as the party members kill the confessors. Again, this shows the sheer power the youth has over the too intelligent adults and the unswerving allegiance that the youth has, even to the point of brutality.

[8] The images of the children illustrate the extensive and atrocious education process of the Cambodian communists, and Pran’s voice-overs help to highlight the key issues and intellectually reflect on the horror of the situation. In the first voice-over, Pran explains that, “They tell us that God is dead” (1:32:29). The leaders have to erase all belief systems, especially religion, in order to cultivate faith in the party. They also have to instill fear of an enemy in the Cambodians to force them into compliance: “a bad new disease… a memory sickness that diagnosed as thinking too much about life in prerevolutionary Cambodia… The enemy is inside us.” If the Cambodians can’t trust God, or intelligence, or even themselves, the only thing they can trust is the communist party. The Khmer Rouge towers over the rest of the Cambodians, and the Cambodians tremble with fear; few have the strength to keep their sanity, or their lives.

[9] Pran explains the importance and power of the children, “We must honor the comrade children whose minds are not corrupted by the past” (1:33:33). The children are malleable and impressionable but the adults remember. In times of a stable government, memory can be an important tool, building the nationalism and pride in everyone, as Wendy said in her issue essay. When starting new, however, memory can be the biggest obstacle. Is it weak enough to diminish the old for to make room for the new, communist teachings? Or is it strong enough to resist oppression until thinking is allowed again?

[10] The communist party stresses that this is “Year Zero” (1:34:41), but to Pran there are two different meanings. The Year Zero can mean that “everything is to start anew” or that “nothing has gone before.” Pran dismisses the first because he struggles with the second meaning. He admits that he’s “full of fear” because he “must have no past.” If he is full of love, longing, fear, and desperation, how can he have no past? It seems that most communist regimes must have a “Year Zero” doctrine; they believe that their communism cannot move forward and evolve unless everything else is destroyed. But (and here’s why communism seems to fail) everything cannot be destroyed if the citizens (comrades?) aren’t willing to forget. Unless communist societies begin with consenting adults, the society will implode. Furthermore, the regimes place the party leaders above all of the rest, for they try to destroy the past. Communism, however, calls for classless societies where equality rules. Communist parties can’t destroy one’s will to freedom.

[11] Despite the shortcomings of communist regimes in general regarding destruction, Pran explains that the Cambodian communists and the war have “killed love” (1:35:40). Everyone lies in “fear and hate.” At this point in the scene, the audience has a sense that Pran is losing his strength to withstand the party and to remember. His grip on the past is slipping as he falls deeper into the present and the future. The reeducation of the party is starting to work on him; he questions the sustainability of hope and love through hate and death. However, he will not speak up or confess, for “here, only the silent survive.” This is the most important and most haunting line of the movie to me. The audience is fully aware of the change and contradiction in Pran: he was a journalist, speaking his mind and searching for the truth, but now he cannot speak. Before, language was his survival, and now silence is his survival. That speaks volumes (pun intended). The communist reeducation can erase the past with persistent fear and hate.

[12] This whole scene of The Killing Fields is a paradox. It is simple, few lines and long images, yet explores and illustrates the most complex issues of the film and of the historical Cambodian war. I still don’t want to say that communism is evil, yet (almost) every attempt at a communist society has been a deadly failure. The reeducation of children and adults, forcing them into communist believers, terrifies me. The scene explores the power of innocence and youth and how easily that power can turn cruel, and it explores how perpetual fear and hate can break down memory. After watching this film and knowing what I know about Cuba and my father, I wonder if the world can recognize and stop these terror tactics before the mass murders next time.