Throughout Cambodia's election campaign the politically outgunned opposition has put in an astonishing performance. Fuelled by youthful exuberance, flash mobs of up to 3,000 form and trumpet the virtues of change as supporters ride in twos, threes and fours, through the capital on motorbikes.
YOUNG FACE OF THE OLD GUARD: Boys hold flags of the ruling Cambodian People’s Party in a slum area of Phnom is the flag of the opposition Cambodia National Rescue Party.
Rallies of up to 80,000 have been reported in the provinces after 100,000 to 150,000 turned out for the return of Sam Rainsy on July 19 from self-imposed exile. At Freedom Park in Phnom Penh rallies have been boisterous, accompanied by pop music, dancing and the ubiquitous chant of ''Vote Seven'' _ the place of the Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP) on the ballot paper.
The CNRP has captured the youth vote, adding a sense of fun to an election campaign dominated by established forces whose roots were formed in a world of stodgy communism and who insist that change is bad, while offering only more of the same.
Whether Cambodia's hard-nosed Prime Minister Hun Sen likes it or not, the CNRP has dished out a political lesson to his ruling Cambodian People's Party (CPP) on how to win hearts and votes _ even if gerrymandering, dirty tricks and die hard loyalties mean an opposition victory remains elusive.
A US$10 (310 baht) a month pension for seniors, pay rises for bureaucrats and a higher minimum wage alongside promises to end land-grabbing and corruption are key planks of the CNRP's campaign, which is led by a triumvirate of leaders focused on winning over traditional government supporters.
HOMECOMING: Sam Rainsy returns to Phnom Penh. PHOTOS: LUKE HUNT
The result has been a late swing to the opposition. CPP strategists have conceded privately that the CNRP could win 45 seats from the current 29 it holds in the 123-seat National Assembly.
That alone would constitute a horrible result for Hun Sen and ensure his CPP loses its cherished two-thirds majority. It currently holds 90 seats and has dominated Cambodian politics ever since the Vietnamese ousted Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in 1979.
Ever since then, Hun Sen has cleverly manipulated domestic politics. In the 1998 poll he won the nation's support by ending decades of war. Five years later, the war against terror and fears of Islamic militancy lent support for his strong-arm tactics after it was discovered that Hambali had masterminded the 2002 Bali bombings from a hideout in Phnom Penh.
In 2008, chance and good timing again played a role, with Hun Sen capitalising on nationalistic sentiment after Thai troops crossed the border and occupied the 11th-century temple at Preah Vihear, challenging a 1962 decision by the International Court of Justice over sovereignty of the temple.
Such extraneous factors have been absent from the current campaign, allowing the CNRP _ forged recently out of a merger between the Sam Rainsy Party (SRP) and the Human Rights Party (HRP) _ an unimpeded opportunity to throw the spotlight on Cambodia's domestic problems.
That, and changing demographics that see an emerging youth vote with little recollection of the Khmer Rouge or war and its horrors, have also radically altered the dynamics of this election.
The problems are many. Land-grabbling and the granting of economic land concessions, mainly to Chinese and Vietnamese companies, has impacted on 400,000 Cambodians and angered many more. Wages are paltry and making ends meet is impossible for most, and Cambodia continues to be ranked among the most corrupt countries on Earth.
A major issue is wealth disparity. In a bout of pre-election jitters the CPP hierarchy urged the country's well-heeled and politically connected to avoid gaudy displays of wealth, for which they are renowned. Fancy restaurants were out and their plush four-wheel-drives were to be left at home.
This has provided rich fodder for the CNRP, which cleverly carved-up campaign duties between its three most senior figures, Mu Sochua, Kem Sokha and Sam Rainsy.
Mu Sochua provides the opposition with a strong powerful woman who enjoys a high public profile _ the type of politician the CPP simply does not have. Kem Sokha brushed off early personal attacks from Hun Sen, including bizarre and unsubstantiated allegations that he had mistreated a mistress. By focusing on the countryside, Kem Sokha matched Hun Sen's legendary ability to sit for hours in remote villages chatting with locals about matters such as the price of rice, which should serve his party well.
RIDING WITH THE PACK: CPP supporters at a campaign event in Phnom Penh. The party is listed fourth on the ballot paper.
''Poverty and suffering are very much the issue. Economic growth has not led to a reduction of poverty, even with growth of about 10%. Cambodia is in trouble economically and cannot compete,'' Mu Sochua said.
She said Cambodia needs a vision for change that must include a basic respect for the fundamental human rights of all people.
''The CPP has not realised this, and their old ways of control, the use of threats and having the same prime minister for so long has hurt them. Thirty years of no change is enough, and voters know that they have the power to vote for change,'' she said.
But it was Sam Rainy's presence that added the spark. His return, after Hun Sen bowed to international pressure and pardoned the opposition leader on charges Sam Rainsy insists were politically motivated, galvanised opposition supporters, particularly in the cities and provincial towns where he has always counted on the youth vote.
Meanwhile, the CPP response was lethargic. Hun Sen did what he usually does and refrained from commenting for a month before the poll date. His son, Hun Many, who is standing for the first time, urged Cambodia's youth to support his father and to vote for ''no change''. One observer quipped that asking young people to spurn change was about as realistic ''as asking old people to work harder''.
Major policy statements have been rare. CPP thugs have attempted to block cars and tuk-tuks bearing CNRP stickers from travelling on public roads. Tuk-tuk drivers said they were paid $15 to block CNRP motorcades. The press is government friendly and has ignored opposition campaigning. The Phnom Penh Post carried a story detailing official voter registration numbers which were often higher than the populations of the districts they represented.
Human rights groups have accused the police and military of openly campaigning for the CPP. Sam Rainsy can campaign but has been barred from standing as a candidate by the National Election Committee because his name was removed from the electoral role while in exile.
Despite the dirty tricks the CPP retains its strengths, including a formidable party apparatus that extends into the remotest parts of the country and extensive financial resources. At the district level, CPP politicians have an overwhelming control of local government.
Then too, old loyalties stemming from the defeat of the Khmer Rouge and the normalisation of Cambodia still hold strong. This is particularly true in the countryside, where general elections are won or lost.
Government spokesman Phay Siphan insists the CPP can stand on its record of providing peace and stability and that he expects the government to be returned with a fresh five-year mandate, plus or minus five seats.
But he added that he was aware changing demographics would have an impact on the vote.
''There are 200,000 people graduating from high school every year; they are coming into the job market and they vote. We are confident they will support us,'' he said. ''They are counting on economic growth, employment and continued harmonisation.''
That's a substantial amount of new voters. More than nine million people will cast their ballots today and a lack of independent opinions polls and surveys make it almost impossible to accurately predict an outcome. The CPP should win by most accounts, but the Sam Rainsy-led opposition has improved its stocks and this poll should serve as a warning that Hun Sen's government is not cast in stone.
MIDDLE CLASS IDENTITY CRISIS LEGACY OF DISAPPOINTMENT WITH HUN SEN
The former colonel who sold her rank and her identity to support her family, became a successful restaurateur, but now, 15 years later, she will be voting for the CNRP as a protest against the government
Sokha is a confident woman. In her late fifties, she has witnessed highs and lows, and seen her fair share of atrocities committed in war and in the last 15 years of peace that have have re-shaped Cambodian politics and social structure.
For her, the choice was simple: ''Survive, make money and do business.'' She made it through the country's chaotic past and is now a member of the middle class.
As the wars ended, Sokha carried four-and-a-half stripes on her shoulders, indicating the equivalent rank of colonel in the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces. Along the way she picked up a husband, another colonel. Sokha took their three children and left him after she discovered he had two more wives and several other children.
''I refer to him as dead,'' she says of her husband. ''He works for the government, has several wives and another six children. I know this but I prefer to call him dead; it's easier.''
As peace came to the troubled country in 1998, UN-sponsored demobilisation was on the horizon but the perks, including a cow and a small plot of land, were miniscule. Sokha found it easier to sell her rank, identity papers and driver's licence _ and made US$25,000.
With the separation behind her, Sokha lived by her wits. Her three daughters _ now a pharmacist, a businesswoman and a doctor _ have flourished.
Sokha carries a pistol, spent a decade working for the UN in Sri Lanka and Indonesia, and owns a restaurant that employs 20 people. All her staff have been told to vote for opposition leader Sam Rainsy and his Cambodian National Rescue Party (CNRP) in today's general elections.
She says Prime Minister Hun Sen and his Cambodian People's Party (CPP), which have ruled since the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia and ended the tyranny of the Khmer Rouge in 1979, have done little for ordinary Cambodians in recent years.
''There is much money that comes in here and they take it all for themselves,'' Sokha says. ''We just do what we have to, to survive.''
Her complaints are common. A rapidly widening wealth disparity has alienated voters in the capital and provincial towns, while land-grabbing in rural areas has underscored Cambodia's perennial corruption issue which Sokha says is simply part and parcel of everyday life.
In campaigning across Phnom Penh, the opposition, buoyed by Sam Rainsy's return from self-imposed exile last week, has been loudest, rallying non-stop in Freedom Park and forming motorcades stretching for kilometres around the capital, urging voters to tick seven, the CNRP's place on the ballot paper. Sokha and her staff raise seven fingers and cheer loudly as they pass.
While much of the current campaigning, whether by the CPP or CNRP, has been good natured, there have been reports of intimidation.
In one incident about six men, described as ''goons'', leapt in front of a tuk-tuk ferrying three Western residents across town. An argument followed and the tuk-tuk driver was told he was not allowed on a major road, near Hun Sen's house, because his motorbike had stickers supporting Sam Rainsy. Heated arguments that almost erupted into a brawl followed.
Such stories are common. CPP-loyal tuk-tuk drivers were being paid $15 (467 baht) to block CNRP rallies, while others say they are being paid $3 a day to attend rallies.
Further antagonising relations between the two camps is the media coverage. Up to 150,000 people brought traffic to the airport to a standstill for hours upon Sam Rainsy's return. It was clearly the biggest story of the campaign to date, but was ignored by a government-friendly media that preferred to cover Chinese soap operas and local pop princesses.
Despite the acrimony and obvious support for the CNRP in the city, the CPP is widely expected to win this election _ mainly due to the stability delivered by the party and Hun Sen, who is credited with ending three decades of war, and the support his party enjoys in the countryside where the overwhelming majority of voters live.
''And so I tell them, I tell them all to vote for the opposition,'' Sokha said. ''The CPP just takes everything so we give them nothing in return. We do not even vote for them.''
Someone else is walking around collecting Colonel Sokha's pay packet, but she is unfazed, saying that the sale of her rank, leaving her husband and buying a gun were all forms of protest and survival in Cambodia.
''I never kill anybody. I have a pistol which loads from the grip and I keep it in my handbag or down my cleavage,'' she says pointing towards her breasts.
''I had a revolver but that was as useless as my husband _ it's too difficult to hide a revolver.''
Other forms of protest include plans to flout a two-day pre-election booze ban and, in a far more reaching move, refusing to pay taxes on her earnings to a government she insists has done little for her or her kind _ Cambodia's aspiring middle class.
Asked how she gets away with paying no taxes, Sokha smiles and says she held onto one piece of paper from all those years ago that provides an identity and some clout with local authorities, although the job is part ceremonial and pays nothing. ''I'm also a police officer. When the tax people come here to collect I order them to go away. And they do.
''It's easy, they do as I tell them,'' she says, then points to her own staff and bellows: ''They will all vote for Sam Rainsy.'' They respond with a smile and raise seven fingers.
LUCKY NUMBER: CNRP supporters raise seven fingers, indicating the party’s position on the ballot paper.
PRIME MINISTER’S MAN: A Hun Sen supporter wraps himself in the CPP flag.
MAKING A PUSH: Sam Rainsy, president of the opposition Cambodia National Rescue Party, speaks to supporters during a rally ahead of the general election in Svay Rieng province, Cambodia.
