Go Beyond

   The faces of S-21 haunt me. Security Office 21 is located in the heart of Phnom Penh and is today known as the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. Originally a school, the Khmer Rouge turned this campus into a place of unrestrained torture. For whatever reason, Pol Pot’s minions photographed the individuals they brought here. In many cases, they photographed these victims again after they had tortured and killed them. These photographs are the Khmer Rouge’s bloody fingerprints at the scene of one of recent history’s most heinous crimes. Today, rows upon rows of the victim’s photographs are displayed in the silent rooms of S-21.

   For the second time in a little more than a month, I stood and stared into the faces of these nameless individuals. The faces in the photographs share common characteristics and can easily be grouped by expressions – blank stares, frightened looks, bewildered brows, and more. Particularly troubling are the photographs of mothers holding their babies. Like the deserted island in William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies,” S-21 is a troubling study of humanity at its worst. Even more, it is a case study of the logical consequences of a worldview that devalues human life. The Khmer Rouge murdered men and women of every age, teenagers, children, babies, and even pregnant women.

   I could write about many of the faces of S-21, but two in particular have haunted me over the past few days. The first is the photograph of a man staring wide-eyed into the camera. He was prisoner number 187 and arrived at S-21 on December 10, 1978. I stopped and stared at his photograph and noted the date that indicated when he crossed the threshold into Khmer Rouge Hell. What was I doing on December 10, 1978 while this frightened man posed for Pol Pot’s photographer? I began my journey into full-time vocational ministry in 1978. I was single at the time and looking forward to driving home to enjoy Christmas with my family. Life was good for me on December 10, 1978. And honestly, I was not thinking about Cambodia or even aware of places like S-21.

   The date on prisoner 187’s photograph reminded me that every day of the year some unfortunate human being is suffering in some place on the planet. Prisoner 187 should remind us to live with greater awareness of the atrocities that are happening in our world and prompt us to promote justice. In the words of Proverbs 31:8-9, we must “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly, defend the rights of the poor and needy.” I am particularly concerned about issues like abortion because when the pre-born are stripped of their rights, then what follows will eventually lead us down the path to S-21. Once abortion is accepted, then infanticide will be the next front line, and then euthanasia. From there it is but a short distance to the front steps of S-21.

   The second photograph that has haunted me is a side profile of a woman. Her head is leaning against a rod placed behind her head. This rod was positioned so that prisoners would not slouch while being photographed, but instead look directly into the camera. I looked at her face and noticed something I had not seen on my previous visit – a single tear streaming down her right cheek. I wondered about how many more tears she would shed in the solitude of her filthy cell, or while being interrogated and tortured. Did she cry for herself? Did she weep for family members she would never see again? Did she weep as she nursed her own wounds or as she nursed the wounds of others? Did she weep as she knelt blindfolded before a mass grave the moment before she was struck in the back of the head and killed?

   I thought about my own tears as I looked at her photograph. Actually, I thought about how few tears I shed. My life is comfortable and free from pain. I can read statistics about injustice and atrocities and feel anger and burn with indignation. However, it’s not until I stand before a photograph like this, a photograph of one of the two-million who died at the hands of the Khmer Rouge, that I finally feel a tear stream down my own cheek. The woman in the photograph reminds me that I too must weep. Her fate can become my fate if those filled with hatred in our world prevail. And, looking at what is happening in our world today, there is cause for weeping. We must, therefore, remain neither silent nor complacent in the face of injustice. Instead, we must work to affirm the worth and dignity of all people lest we too cross the threshold into a nightmare like S-21.