Cambodia’s genocide denial law sparks concern over free speech limits

As Cambodia marks 50 years since the Khmer Rouge took power, a new law criminalizing genocide denial ignites debate between survivors, scholars, and human rights advocates.

Tourists view portrait photographs of victims of the Khmer Rouge regime at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, on March 28, 2025. Photo by Tang Chhin Sothy/AFP

By Anna Fadiah and Hayu Andini

Cambodia’s genocide denial law, introduced just weeks before the 50th anniversary of the Khmer Rouge seizing Phnom Penh, has triggered mixed reactions across the nation. While survivors of the regime’s brutal rule express support for the new legislation, human rights advocates and scholars warn that it could become a political tool to silence legitimate dissent and manipulate historical discourse.

The law, enacted in March 2025, imposes stiff prison sentences and fines for anyone who denies or questions the atrocities committed by the Khmer Rouge between 1975 and 1979, a period in which approximately two million Cambodians—nearly a quarter of the population—died from execution, starvation, overwork, or disease. The Cambodia genocide denial law is widely seen as a formal attempt to institutionalize remembrance of a harrowing national tragedy. But critics argue that its real intent may be far more complex and politically motivated.

Law aims to enshrine memory but may stifle discussion

To survivors like 94-year-old Chum Mey, one of the few to escape from the Khmer Rouge’s notorious S-21 prison, the law represents a long-overdue step toward preserving historical truth. Chum, who lost his wife and four children during the regime’s reign of terror, now dedicates his life to educating visitors at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, which stands on the site of the former torture facility. He insists that denying the Khmer Rouge’s crimes is both irrational and offensive to victims.

“There is evidence,” Chum said firmly. “They killed my four children and my wife. Anyone who denies it is ignoring the truth.”

For many Cambodians, the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge are an accepted part of the nation’s tragic past. The regime, led by Pol Pot and known for its radical Maoist ideology, launched its brutal campaign to reset society to "Year Zero" on April 17, 1975. That date marks the day Phnom Penh fell into the hands of Khmer Rouge forces, who swiftly emptied the cities, abolished money, outlawed religion, and executed perceived enemies of their utopian agrarian vision.

But even as the Cambodia genocide denial law seeks to solidify the national consensus about these horrors, some fear it could be manipulated to enforce a state-controlled version of history and penalize critical voices.

Concerns over political weaponization of history

An aerial view shows a stupa at the Choeung Ek Killing Fields Memorial in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, on March 28, 2025. Photo by Suy Se/AFP

Among the most vocal critics of the new law is Sophal Ear, an associate professor at Arizona State University, who warns that it could become "another tool to silence dissent" under the guise of promoting historical accuracy. According to Ear, rather than encouraging a deeper public understanding of the Khmer Rouge period, the legislation might serve to reinforce official narratives—especially those that flatter the legacy of Cambodia’s former prime minister Hun Sen.

“Holding people accountable for genocide denial is important,” Ear said, “but not at the cost of turning history into propaganda.”

Political analyst Ou Virak called the move a “mistake,” arguing that legal limits on historical interpretation could inhibit public debate and critical thinking. “A population that is afraid to discuss will be even more afraid to ask questions,” he said.

This unease is compounded by Cambodia’s long-standing pattern of political suppression. During his more than three decades in power, Hun Sen routinely crushed opposition forces and framed criticism of his leadership as support for destabilizing elements. Although he stepped down in 2023, handing power to his son Hun Manet, many believe that the former leader still wields significant influence over national policy—including this latest piece of legislation.

Echoes of the past and selective memory

The Cambodia genocide denial law replaces a 2013 version that originated from a controversial episode involving opposition leader Kem Sokha. Shortly before national elections, Sokha was accused of dismissing S-21 as a Vietnamese fabrication, prompting outrage. The incident led to calls for legislation to criminalize such denial, a move widely seen as politically motivated.

Kem Sokha has since faced a series of criminal charges, including treason, and remains under house arrest, barred from participating in politics. His case is often cited as an example of how the judicial system has been used to target dissenters under the pretext of safeguarding national unity.

Adriana Escobar Rodriguez of the French National Centre for Scientific Research believes that the law's framing may encourage selective memory. She notes that some Cambodians still struggle to comprehend how fellow Khmers could commit such atrocities. "Some people still can't believe that Khmers could have killed other Khmers," she said, highlighting a psychological barrier to national reckoning.

She also points to a sensitive issue: the role of Vietnam in ending Khmer Rouge rule. Hun Sen, who defected from the Khmer Rouge in 1977 and joined a Vietnamese-backed military effort to oust them, has positioned himself as a liberator. Rodriguez believes that by punishing those who downplay Vietnam’s contribution, the law also serves to validate Hun Sen’s narrative.

Striking a balance between remembrance and repression

Tourists walk past mass graves of Khmer Rouge victims at the Choeung Ek Killing Fields Memorial in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, on March 28, 2025. Photo by Tang Chhin Sothy/AFP

In response to criticism, Hun Sen has compared the Cambodia genocide denial law to legislation against Holocaust denial in countries like Germany and France. Supporters argue that the scale and brutality of the Khmer Rouge’s crimes warrant similar protections against denialism and revisionism.

However, human rights organizations maintain that laws restricting speech must be carefully balanced to avoid infringing on civil liberties. Without safeguards for academic inquiry and political expression, such laws can easily be exploited by authoritarian regimes.

“In free societies, confronting history means being willing to examine it from multiple angles,” said Ou Virak. “Shutting down debate doesn’t heal wounds—it deepens them.”

As Cambodia prepares to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Khmer Rouge’s rise, the country finds itself at a crossroads between remembrance and repression. For survivors, the law offers long-awaited recognition. But for others, it raises troubling questions about the future of freedom of expression in Cambodia.

While the Cambodia genocide denial law may succeed in cementing the historical record of a dark chapter, its broader implications for democracy and civic discourse remain uncertain. Whether it becomes a tool for education or control will depend largely on how it is implemented in the years ahead.