The work of the Vancouver-based Ratanak Foundation in Cambodia was recently recognized by the Bridgeway Foundation (see page 44). While it has branched out to focus on issues such as forced prostitution, Ratanak’s original purpose was to provide humanitarian relief from the damage done by the Khmer Rouge revolution. Ratanak founder Brian McConaghy offers the following account.  

THE civil war in Cambodia ended on April 17, 1975. The population of Phnom Penh, more than two million, were nervous – but they still welcomed the victors.

They anticipated life might be rough under the communists – but believed it couldn’t be as bad as the civil war.

Little did any of them suspect the Khmer Rouge would institute a revolution unprecedented in the 20th century.

 Phnom Penh was evacuated within 48 hours. Thousands died in that process alone. The people were forced out into the ‘killing fields,’ and were told: “Survive.”  

The revolution systematically disassembled every element of society, destroying physical, governmental, educational, economic, social and family structures.

The Khmer Rouge also considered anyone who spoke a foreign language or had any kind of education as a threat to the revolution. The only way to survive was to pretend to be an illiterate peasant.    

Many were not successful in hiding their background.  Out of a population of more than eight million, it is estimated that some three million were killed.

The revolution lasted three years, eight months and 20 days.  It left a totally traumatized country, with very little ability to rebuild. This was followed by international isolation and an embargo – leaving the people to suffer for another 10 years.

In late 1989, I was working in the Firearms Section of the RCMP Laboratory in Vancouver. I was also helping lead Bible studies with Asian students at the University of B.C. To understand what they had experienced,  I decided to go to Asia.

I was asked to bring a care package to a homesick girl working with Christian and Missionary Alliance, an organization working on the Thailand/Cambodia border.

She made arrangements for me to go out to the refugee camps. What I experienced there was to change my life.  

The refugee camp I visited contained some 42,000 Cambodians, being cared for by an expatriate medical team of 15 people. The team were trying to provide medical services while the camp was being fired upon by artillery.

I later learned that, while the shells were falling, a little girl called Ratanak was dying of dengue fever across the border; there was no medication available to her.    

During that first trip, I often looked across the Cambodian border into this forbidden, mysterious country no one was allowed to enter – which was awash with mines, gunfire, shelling and death. The whole experience prompted me to dedicate myself to helping the Khmer people.  

But what could a firearms examiner to do to help?  I had the most useless skill-set for helping people in the Third World.  (You can search the internet, go on all the websites for missions, large organizations or small – nobody wants a weapons specialist!)

To make a very long story short, I managed to figure out how to ship and distribute nine tons of medication in Cambodia – despite the communist officials who were, to say the least, not helpful. This was the beginning of the Ratanak Foundation, named after the little Cambodian girl.

After some years in the country, our organization was given an opportunity to visit Khmer Rouge leaders. Their civilian population were dying en masse, of malaria and dengue fever. They approached one of our translators – who was ex-Khmer Rouge himself, before becoming a Christian – and asked if we could do a survey, and bring medical supplies. A wonderful offer – but also a frightening one.

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The Khmer Rouge general in the area had made it clear Westerners were not welcome. As a result, not many had not gone into this region; the few who had were returned to the UN in boxes. So this trip, for me, was fraught with fear. But we did some threat assessment, and decided it was worthwhile going in.

So we drove into this very bizarre environment – where I had the privilege of sitting down with very dangerous men. I ended up staying in a Khmer Rouge general’s home and experiencing these amazing, nice, smiling, benign men – who had the blood of thousands on their hands.

While at one of the dinners with them, the food arrived. The ex-Khmer Rouge translator said: “Okay, now we are going to say grace.” I could have strangled him.

 I thought: “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re going to say grace with these guys?  The machetes are going to come out. They could kill us right now!” But on he went, and he said grace.  

I bowed my head, all the while looking over my shoulder; such is my faith. But they accepted the grace without comment.

We negotiated – and soon after, many shipments of medication were delivered to the civilians.  

Later, the communist officials were intrigued – as they saw their revolution implode – and  wanted to know what this Christian teaching was.

After all, being smart people, they reasoned: the New Testament  indicates we have to share, we have to be one, we have to be equal. That sounds like communism, doesn’t it? So they said: “Well, tell us about this leader Jesus. Was he a communist?”  

They asked one of the missionaries to speak. Of course, he was very nervous.  How do you share the gospel with radical communists who have killed every Christian they came across? But he stood there, and taught them from the Bible.  

Noticing he was uptight, they said: “We recognize that you are really nervous, so we are going to make you feel more comfortable.”  

They brought over two big, thick-necked, muscular guys with AK-47s, and they said: “Okay, one is going to stand right here, and one is going to stand on the other side of you – and they will have their machine guns, and so you feel safe now. Carry on.”

Safety is all a matter of perspective, I guess.

Ratanak has now built a school, established medical services and an ambulance system in this region. Areas such as this are now open to both the work of compassion, and the gospel.

Over the years – having seen violence in Northern Ireland, Somalia and Cambodia – I’ve learned that hate is a very powerful, insidious thing, multiplying from generation to generation.

But compassion, I firmly believe, is more powerful – and can disarm even hate.

Ratanak founder Brian McConaghy recently resigned from the RCMP, after 23 years, to work full-time in ministry.

Summer/Fall 2008