“After the coup many people from the village joined the Khmer Rouge to fight against the new government…While the government had squashed this uprising, it was only the beginning of the civil war.”

The Lon Nol coup occurred on March 18, 1970. My uncle Om Ngat, and his wife, Om Ear were living in Takeo Province, Bati District in Chambak Commune. While my mother recalls the streets of Phnom Penh being very quiet that day, my aunt remembers a violent uprising in Chambak Commune in the subsequent days. I interviewed my aunt as she recalls tensions in her village soon afterwards and how the Khmer Rouge grew in her commune as a result: 

Wat Ansung. 2013. Source: ©Banyanblog.

On March 18, 1970 I was living in Takeo Province, Bati District in Chambak Commune. We owned a small shop in our house. We lived in the same house your mother grew up in, which was across the street from Wat Ansung (Ansung Pagoda). We didn’t know that there had been a coup in Phnom Penh. We didn’t hear the announcement because there weren’t many TVs or radios in our village at the time.

A few days afterwards we heard rumors from Phnom Penh that something big had happened, that the government had removed Prince Sihanouk from power. Some villagers said they later heard a message from Prince Sihanouk on the radio telling the people to rise against the enemies and go to the maquis to fight the government. At that point I knew there would be trouble because people in the village adored Prince Sihanouk. They were fiercely loyal to him and would die for him.

Soon after, perhaps that day or the next day, massive protests in Chambak commune broke out. It started in the afternoon when a group of people marched to Salah Temnah Kong Eng and took down a picture of Prince Sihanouk. The commune officials from the Chambak Salah Srok tried to prevent the villagers from doing so, but the people wouldn’t listen.  They took the picture down and carried it to Wat Ansung, which was about two kilometers from the Salah Srok.  Wat Ansung became the central meeting place for the protestors. Since our house was right in front of the pagoda and we had a shop, people would come and buy things, and ask for Om Ngat, who was well known in the village. They wanted him to come out and protest with them.  I told them he wasn’t home, that he was out playing football (soccer) by Tonle Bati.

Norodom Sihanouk. 1983. Source: Anefo, Dutch National Archives.

Towards the evening more and more people gathered at the pagoda. By this time your uncle came back. Then there was a knock at our door. This time the protestors wanted our megaphone to make announcements to rally the people. We gave it to them but told them we didn’t know how to use it since we had rented it from someone else. They took it and left us alone for the night.

The next morning, more and more people came to our village.  Droves of people were marching from as far as Phnom Chiso and they all gathered at Wat Ansung. The crowd got so large that the pagoda couldn’t fit everyone. There was an overflow of people and many of them stood in front of our house. I was scared. Your uncle was on his way to Phnom Penh to buy things for the shop and I was at home with your grandfather Kong Sreng and the children. Kong Sreng saw more and more people coming down the road carrying machetes. They were a rabble-rousing crowd. He told me to close the door. He was afraid that the protestors were drunk, would become violent and would burn down the house. I closed the doors to the house.

Later that morning villagers at the pagoda turned into a massive mob and knocked on our door again looking for Om Ngat. They went from house to house telling people to come out and protest.  In some cases they threatened to burn the house down. I told them he wasn’t home that he had gone to Phnom Penh. Shortly after I heard a noise in the back of our house. It was Om Ngat who snuck by the protestors. I let him in the back door. He told me he didn’t make it to Phnom Penh. The government had closed the roads going into the city. On his way back someone at the market told him that he needed to rush home because the mob was going to burn down his house.

The crowd had swelled to the hundreds, if not thousands, by the late morning. They left Wat Ansungand marched with the picture of the Prince to the hospital and then to the Salah Srok. There must have been thousands of people marching, wielding knives and machetes and screaming at the top of their lungs Jay-yo Samdach (Victory Prince). The workers at the Salah Srok must have been scared from the day before and called for help from Takeo Province. Earlier that day two big trucks carrying soldiers came. They stood in front of the Salah Srok waiting for the protestors.

Flag used by Khmer Rouge during their 1975 campaign. This design was replaced soon after their victory. Source: Creative Commons.

The Salah Srok was the final confrontation, soldiers against the angry mob. Even with the soldiers there carrying their guns, the protestors did not disperse. They were not intimidated. The soldiers warned them but the people wouldn’t move.  The people were defiant, they yelled Jay-yo Samdach, Jay-yo Samdach! Then it turned violent. The soldiers started shooting people indiscriminately. The crowd had scattered. I heard the shots and saw people running past our house screaming. I was terrified. Suddenly it was silent. The protestors went home. Eight people had died that day. Later in the afternoon the soldiers left. In the evening people went back to the Salah Srok to pick up the dead bodies to take to the hospital.

In the following days, I had heard that Khieu Samphan (a high ranking Khmer Rouge official) and some Khmer Rouge soldiers came to the village and setup a makeshift medical treatment area to tend to the wounded. The people who had protested were grateful to the Khmer Rouge for their help.  We reopened the shop following the protests and people would buy food, alcohol and medicine for the Khmer Rouge soldiers. After the coup many people from the village joined the Khmer Rouge to fight against the new government. That is how they grew in numbers in our commune. While the government had squashed this uprising, it was only the beginning of the civil war.

*All events are recalled to the best ability and any misstatements are unintentional*

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The Uprising in Takeo appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LYDBjz-DZrw

The Mirabal Sisters – Patria, Dedé, Minerva and Maria Teresa, opposed the dictatorship of Rafael Trujillo in the Dominican Republic during the 1950s and 1960s. The sisters helped to form a group called the Movement of the Fourteenth of June, and were known within the group as Las Mariposas (The Butterflies). On November 25, 1960, Patria, Minerva and Maria Teresa were murdered by Trujillo’s men. In this video, eldest sister Dedé, as well as the husbands and children of Patria, Minerva and Maria Teresa, remember these brave women. Of the day they were killed, Dedé recalls: “It was a terrible day, because even though we expected it, we never thought the crime would actually be carried out.” Of their deaths, Maria Teresa’s husband, Leandro Guzman, says: “They fertilized the earth with their blood to bring about Trujillo’s end.”

Rafael Trujillo was assassinated in May of 1961.

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Remembering the Mirabal Sisters appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdxPCeWw75k

North Korean defector Hyeonseo Lee describes how she escaped from North Korea in 1997 after witnessing the atrocities committed in her country. She lived as an illegal immigrant in China then sought asylum in South Korea. Lee then speaks of her tumultuous journey trying to get her family out of North Korea as well. She describes the English-speaking stranger who helped her pay the bribes that got her family out of China when they were arrested in China to be returned to North Korea: “He showed me that the kindness of strangers and the support of the international community are truly the rays of hope that the North Korean people need.”

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Escaping North Korea With the Help of a Stranger appeared first on Witnify.

“I don’t know very English, but I know as much as write to you…”

Read an amazing letter from a 12-Year-Old Fidel Castro to just recently re-elected President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Castro writes “My very good friend Roosevelt: I don’t know very English, but I know as much to write you.” The future leader of the Cuban Revolution, goes on to casually request a ten spot from the U.S. President:
“If you like, give me a ten dollar bill green american (sic), in the letter, because never, I have not seen a ten dollars green american and I would like to have one them…”
The young Castro goes on to give the President his address and highlight that he may not know English that well, but the President probably doesn’t speak Spanish all that great either. Unclear if Roosevelt ever responded, but have to give the young Cuban some credit. No harm in asking.

Castro developed a famously fraught relationship with the United States during his 52-year period in political office between 1959 and 2011–the Bay of Pigs invasion, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and Castro’s nationalization of United States owned businesses were among the catalysts for the long term antagonism between the two nations. However, the letter to Roosevelt in 1940 reveals that Castro once idolized a leader of the country he grew to detest. In broken english, he even writes that he is “very happy” that Roosevelt “will be President”:

“Santiago de Cuba.
Nov 6 1940.
Mr. Franklin Roosvelt,
President of the United States. 

My good Roosvelt
I don’t know very English, but I know as much as write to you.
I like to hear the radio, and I am very happy, because I heard in it, that you will be President a new (periodo)
I am twelve years old.
I am a boy but I think very much, but I do not think that I am writting to the President of the United States.

If you like, give me a ten dollars bill green american, in the letter, because never, I have not seen a ten dollars bill green american and I would like to have one of them.
My address is:
Sr. Fidel Castro
Colegio de Dolores
Santiago de Cuba
Oriente.  Cuba.
I don’t know very English but I know very much Spanish and I suppose you don’t know very Spanish but you know very English because you are American but I am not American.

(Thank you very much)
Good by.  Your friend,
Fidel Castro

If you want iron to make your sheaps ships I will show to you the bigest (minar) of iron of the land.  They are in Mayarí.  Oriente Cuba.”

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Young Fidel Castro Wrote Fan Mail to FDR appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLiWN8Hpnoo

In this footage, Fidel Castro gives a speech to the Cuban people just days after his forces overthrew the government of Fulgencio Batista. He calls the overthrow “the most beautiful victory of our people” and tells the people of Cuba to remember their fallen heroes. Soon after ousting Batista’s regime, Castro made Cuba into a socialist state, which by 1965 became full blown communism. This change of government to communism strained Cuba’s relations with the United States resulting in an embargo against Cuba which still exists to this day.

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Fidel Castro Gives Speech Days After Cuban Revolution Ends appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0F068mOrMD0

Soldiers who fought in the Cuban Revolution are interviewed about what happened during the revolution. They talk about witnessing the many deaths of their fellow soldiers and one soldier recalls the kind of food they were given. He describes sharing one tin can of condensed milk with his whole squad–taking turns with his fellow soldiers on dipping their fingers into the can and licking the milk off their fingers. The Cuban Revolution began in July of 1953, but it took Fidel Castro and his army almost six years to overthrow the Cuban government of Fulgencio Batista. Castro recruited thousands of unhappy working class people from Havana to join “the movement” to overthrow Batista. When Castro finally took power, he turned Cuba into a socialist state, and by 1965, Cuba became completely communist as it remains today.

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Soldiers Remember Their Life During the Cuban Revolution appeared first on Witnify.

Author: Ahmad Beetar

“You killed my dreams, destroyed my future and ended my career and any chance for me to get a better life. And you are representing me?”

Destroyed vehicles in Aleppo. Source: Creative Commons.

I am a Syrian citizen. I came to the U.S. for a short-term scholarship, then settled here for good. I have witnessed the whole thing in Syria since the beginning. I’m still hoping for a better future but I know that it will not happen soon. I will just tell you my story. No blood. No heroic action. It is a story about a person who tried to achieve the “American Dream” in his own city but failed to do so. Then he lost everything because of a war with no guarantees of ending soon…and he doesn’t know who to blame.

My name is Ahmad. I am young–in my thirties. I used to work as a journalist and interpreter for dozens of organizations in Syria. I had a lot of ambition towards my city and, personally, I was known for my good reputation and hard work. I had a busy life that some people envied. I used to work for almost 12-14 hours per day–even on weekends–because I loved what I was doing. But this is in the past…Here is a diary entry I wrote in Syria before I left for the U.S. after August of 2013:

Dear Diary,

Almost every morning, I wake up to the sounds of combat, bullets and explosions. My city, Aleppo, is considered the most dangerous and destroyed city in all of Syria and now in the world–it has been facing a severe civil war among the regime, the “opposite,” the radical Islamists and the Kurds. It is divided now into two parts: the eastern part–which is controlled by the Radicals and it looks a little bit like Qandahar in Afghanistan–and the western part, which is controlled by the regime but is under attack daily. It is a small island within a “Radical Islamists” sea. This is where I live.

I turn on the light to see if there is electricity. No, there isn’t. It is okay. We have only six hours of electricity per day so I’d prefer to have it at night to watch TV instead of in the morning. It is still better than no electricity. I can remember when we had no electricity for 12 complete days! Not one time, but dozens of times. This happened because of some attacks on the electricity stations by some militias. I don’t know how they are doing this. They believe that “the only way to eliminate the regime is to destroy the power plants!” as if our regime is working on electricity. Anyway, the first time is always the hardest, and after several times, you get used to these blackouts.

I go to the bathroom in order to wash my face but still no water. We have to depend on what we saved when we had water. Fresh water comes only a few hours every two to three days–not to mention that some weeks we have long cutouts because of targeting in the water stations too.

The regime does not work on electricity or water–please understand this, Rebels. We have some gallon containers that we use to save water inside of them. Ironically, they are gallons distributed by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). What a way to remind us that although we are living in our homes, we can also be considered refugees.

No internet connection or cell phone coverage! This is normal. We used to have some on days like this. One time, we had no internet or cell phone coverage for an entire month and a half from July to the middle of August in 2012 so I used to keep my cell phone at home. Why carry something heavy if I couldn’t use it?

I wash my face, eat some food and prepare myself to leave the house. I am an unemployed person now. I was a journalist in the past but after the Syrian war, I decided to quit journalism. Being a journalist is more dangerous than being a fighter. The reason is simple: both groups are so committed to horrible actions that they don’t want anybody to know about it. So the orders are simple–if you see a fighter and a journalist, shoot the journalist first, then deal with the armed man.

A FSA fighter engaged in a shootout in Aleppo. Source: Creative Commons.

Get set, RUN!

Ready to leave home?

Get set, RUN!

I have to leave my building running. The reason–to not be killed by our “neighborhood sniper.” We are living at the border of the city near some villages and our neighborhood is controlled by the regime troops while those villages are controlled by the rebels, the opposite, and the radical Islamists. So every day I have to run through every intersection in order to prevent myself from being shot by two-mile snipers who are sometimes likely to shoot people out of boredom.

Am I a fighter? No, I am not. I am a civilian of course. So why is he shooting at me? You’ll have to ask him. Once he tried to shoot me and my mother while we were trying to cross the street. We were carrying nothing and wearing casual clothes, so we weren’t even “suspicious.” Luckily, the distance was two miles away and he wasn’t that good. Why are they even hiring snipers that aren’t good for God’s sake? So he missed us only by a few inches. I actually feel like I know how the character, Neo, felt in the famous “Matrix” movie scene when he is trying to dodge the bullets by moving his upper body backwards and in all directions. I can swear that I do the same. I had to walk-run for one mile from my house to the bus station. My area is a no-cars-zone so I have to walk-run the entire distance to get to the bus.

Why am I staying in Aleppo? The answer is simple–where do you want me to go? The painful fact is that there are no alternatives. The entire city is under attack and not safe and if I try to move to another city, I would need money to rent a house. And with this comes unemployment and considering that rents are so high, I could not afford a house for me and my family. Another important fact is that almost 95 percent of the world’s countries refuse to give Visas to Syrians. And I didn’t want to live in a tent in a refugee camp and ask for food for me and my family every couple of days. It is not easy for me to face this reality and I would prefer to die in my house rather than be begging for food.

Now I arrive at my favorite café. Before the war, it was 20 minutes by bus and now it takes 45-60 minutes. On our way, we have half a dozen military check-points and all of them want to see the IDs of every male person inside the bus. They usually check the back and front of your ID and then give it back to you. What will they even find from just looking at my ID? I try to amuse myself by thinking of developing an Android and iPhone application for counting how many times that your ID has been seen. The app can do some competition with a prize for the person whose ID has been checked the least…

Syrian army checkpoint. (January 2012). Source: Creative Commons.

Sometimes they ask you to go down from the bus to let the officer see you and decide whether or not you “look suspicious” or not. After your return to the bus, everybody keeps asking you, “Are you okay? What have you done? Are you a fighter?” No, no, please people! I don’t want all this attention. I am just an ordinary guy who looks a bit “suspicious.” It reminds me to shave my small beard next time.

Although the situation in Aleppo is so messed up, the cafés keep opening. Possibly because the residents of Aleppo have nothing else to do than sit in cafés, take the Shisha, play cards or backgammon, and watch football games–soccer. Actually, my favorite part is watching sports because it is the only way that I can curse and insult someone without being arrested or getting into a fight. Sometimes I need to puff my anger out without being hurt. We are all facing a very tough situation and we need to be angry sometimes. To a bad referee, I’ll yell, “What are you doing? Who is this? You are a ***** referee and you should be ***** and *****!”

Yup, blame the football game referee. It is his fault. It is his fault that we are having this war. It is his fault that my friends got killed because they were “at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” It is his fault that I am unemployed now. It is his fault that I have no future. It is his fault that we have thousands of militias fighting each other and that they all claim that they have the right to defend Syria and the Syrians against the “others.” It is his fault that I am crying now while I am writing this…

Just blame the referee–it is his fault. He is the only person we can blame and not be killed, arrested or disappear for doing so. So referee, do not take it personally. It is just our way to release our anger.

The news: killing, killing, killing, and plenty of lies.

The café has an electric generator so you can recharge your phone and laptop–remember when I told you that we have electricity for only six hours per day? If there is any internet, you can check Facebook to see your friends’ news. Some have left the city, others have left the town, some have left life–they have died. I get so used to the daily dose of sadness that this bad news becomes normal to me.

What if your friend died because a random mortar landed on his bedroom and killed him and his bother while they were sleeping? It could happen to you here. Just a couple of days ago, a mortar landed in our building inside the 4th floor. Luckily, the residents of that house had left months ago. This mortar destroyed our bedrooms and made the glass fall on me and my two little sisters while we were sleeping. So it can happen to anyone. It is not a big deal here.

I move to other websites to start reading articles about the situation in Syria to learn when this war can end. The news has been like this for the past year or so–

The Regime: We are defending Syria against the “global conspiracy” aimed to end our leadership in fighting our enemies. We are good. We are not a dictator regime. People used to be happy. But this happened because of the bad, bad West. We have new decisions for you. Listen to these decisions.

The Opposite: The regime is responsible for every bad thing happening in the whole world, starting from Adam to Noah’s flood–ending with all the earthquakes and the other nasty things that happen now. We accuse them of being responsible for the flu we caught yesterday and the cold pizza we ate. We promise you a better life but we are now busy fighting. Just a couple more years and we will establish a new government that has enough leadership positions for all 300 of us. Just wait for that to happen.

After aerial bombardment by the Syrian government of rebel-held areas of Azaz in Aleppo. Source: Creative Commons.

The Radicals: We will make Syria an Islamic state and put a Caliph over all the Levant areas! All other religions are HARAM i.e. banned or forbidden. All other Islamic sects are HARAM. All moderate Muslims are KAFER i.e. not Muslims and should be killed. You are KAFER. He is KAFER. Everybody is KAFER! And we are the only people who are real Muslims! In other words, we will kill you, all you not-so-Muslim people!

And it keeps going on and on and on…

The ironic thing is that the only thing they all have in common is that they are all claiming that they are representing the Syrians, and that this situation will end soon. They are all representing me? No kidding! Every day, the situation is getting worse. The economy is falling apart, and not to mention, the fighting and combat is almost everywhere. And you are representing me? You killed my dreams, destroyed my future and ended my career and any chance for me to get a better life. And you are representing me? Please don’t. I don’t want to be represented please. Just stay away from me and my country and play your “war games” somewhere else. For three years, the regime keeps saying, “We are victorious. Just a few weeks and it will end.” The opposite, on the other hand, is saying, “Al-Assad’s days in the presidency are countable.” And the radicals are saying, “Just a couple of millions to kill and Syria will be in the Land of Islam.” They promise a Cinderella story.

It is almost sunset and I should go home now. It is some version of a Cinderella story where Cinderella leaves early from the dance–but instead of losing the pumpkin-cart and the fancy dress–she can lose her life. Combat usually starts at sunset so you need to get back home as fast as possible. Your family keeps calling you to check if you’re still alive. You reach your home at the same time the “concert” has started. “Concert” is a cute metaphor for “combat.” I am lying in my bed with the sound of the bullets, bombs and planes, saying to myself: “Could I have a better future one day?”

—

One day, my friend sent me an email for a fellowship in the U.S. for a couple of months with one comment: “Try to apply for this.” I applied and they accepted me as the first Syrian ever. I managed to remain alive for ten months until the time of the flight. After a long adventure, I am now in the U.S. looking for a better future. The Americans knew my story and decided to allow me to stay in the U.S. I now have everything I need to live as a new immigrant. I am looking for a job and hoping for a better future. I am here in the U.S. but my heart is still in Syria with my family and friends. My mother and two little sisters are still there, alive but in severe danger. Will they remain alive? I don’t know but I hope for the best. This is my story: A story of a normal guy who found himself in the middle of a civil war and managed to survive and move to the U.S.

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[Text] The Syrian Civil War: My Story With Death appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2fGoHtyIh-I

A few Germans who knew Adolf Hitler discuss his methods, affects on humanity and his personality. One describes Hitler as a meteor because he suddenly struck, and then was suddenly gone, taking with him the entire German nation in his doom. A different German involved in Hitler’s army talks about a time when he had a face-to-face conversation with the dictator. He said that Hitler was not looking forward to fighting the English because of the fact that the English citizens reminded him so much of the perfect “Aryan master race” he was hoping to fill the world with.

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Colleagues of Hitler Call Him ‘A Genius of Evil’ appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5OBJx3eHwo

Manfred Gelersen, a German soldier who fought during World War II for the Germans on Hitler: “Hitler was from the devil!” Gelersen comments on Hitler’s political agenda and the series of events that unfolded within the country that allowed Hitler to rise to power so quickly. He talks about the weak democracy in Germany that was established after World War I and the fall of that democratic government after Germany found itself in huge economic trouble since they had to pay for the first world war. According to Gelersen, it was because of this economic strife that people were so willing to follow Hitler and his radical ideologies as he promised them “a job and something to eat.”

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A German Veteran’s View of Hitler appeared first on Witnify.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPuvFXv8Gos

The Cultural Revolution in China began in 1966 under Chairman Mao Zedong and didn’t end until 1976 with his death. During this time, people were beginning to shift from a communist society to a free market, capitalistic society and Zedong felt like this was going to ruin China. This video reviews changes that Zedong made in order to change the cultural attitudes of the Chinese people. First, he led a mass swim across a local river in order to prove his vigor and perseverance. From there, he utilized traditional Chinese art forms such as Chinese operas, in order to spread his communist teachings. Along with this, various testimonies from teachers, government officials and members of Zedong’s Red Guards recall their memories of Mao’s rule. The opinion of one of the Red Guards at the time: “If we follow Mao, we can’t go wrong.” This video also touches on the growing hatred for capitalistic leaders like President Liu Shaoqi, the historic Tiananmen Square Protests and the brutal rebellion that Chinese students led against many of their teachers.

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Escalating Events of the Cultural Revolution appeared first on Witnify.