Journalists must never betray a source, even a mass murderer'
DOGWOOF FILMS
Seeking  the truth: Journalist Thet Sambath interviews Nuon Chea in Enemies of  the People 
Which is more important, the story or  the source? It is an age-old journalistic dilemma.
For Thet Sambath, a Cambodian  journalist who has spent years investigating the war crimes of the Khmer  Rouge, extracting a confession of mass genocide from Pol Pot's  right-hand man was the scoop of his life.
He has spent nearly a decade  befriending and gaining the trust of Nuon Chea – second-in-command to  Cambodian dictator Pol Pot – who is the most senior leader of the Khmer  Rouge alive since Pol Pot's death in 1998. But the confession was  granted to Sambath on the condition that he promise to use it as a  historical record only, and that it should not be used against Nuon  Chea. 
Now, the UN has requested that  Sambath hand over his 160 hours of footage, to be used as evidence in  its trial of Nuon Chea for genocide, which begins next year. Rob Lemkin,  the Oxford-based film-maker who produced Sambath's film, Enemies of the  People, has even had uninvited visits from UN representatives at his  home. "They rang up and said they were in town and could pop round to  pick the films up," he says. "When I refused, they told news  organisations that it was because I wanted to make money from the film."
The trouble for the UN is,  Sambath and Lemkin are determined not to hand over the tapes: they are  honouring their promise to Nuon Chea. To some, it may seem a perverse  choice, given the brutality of his crimes. It is particularly surprising  given that Sambath's own family were victims of his appalling regime.  "It's essential as a journalist or filmmaker, that if you give an  assurance, you don't change the goal posts after you've made the film,"  says Lemkin. "They engage in a process with you and you must stick to  that promise. As a result of not bowing to the court we are now seen as  an independent party in Cambodia, and more Khmer Rouge people are  talking to us and they will not talk to the court."
The interview forms part of  Sambath and Lemkin's award-winning Enemies of the People, which is  released in cinemas next month, and which won the special jury prize at  this year's Sundance Festival. Nuon Chea, now 84, comes across as a  benign old man; sitting in his simple wooden shack in a rural part of  Cambodia, he weighs his words carefully. "These people were categorised  as criminals," he says of his victims. "They were killed and destroyed.  If we let them live, the party line would have been hijacked. They were  enemies of the people." Asked about his regime's policy to kill  traitors, he replies: "At the time I agreed. I just wanted to get the  problem solved. It was the correct solution."
Like many architects of the  Khmer Rouge, Nuon Chea has kept his head down ever since, living in  retirement close to the Thai border. Known as Brother Number Two, his  confession to ordering the torture, murder and arbitrary executions of  up to two million people is an important step for a people still coming  to terms with the atrocities of 1975 to 1979. 
This spell-binding confession is  just one of many that Sambath has been granted in years of speaking to  ordinary foot soldiers, many of whom seem relieved finally to unburden  themselves of their guilt. "After I filmed Nuon Chea I was only the  third person who knew of his role, after Pol Pot and himself," he says.  "It was very difficult to interview him, but over 10 years I got to know  him and his family very well and we became very close. I think that was  almost inevitable." 
Why will he not release the  films to the UN? "I don't think revenge is good for anyone. My work was  focussed on gaining as complete an account of the Killing Fields as I  could. Revenge has no part in that. I think the court is focussed on  justice, which is okay. But I think reconciliation would be a better end  result. For reconciliation to take place we need first the truth."
Nuon Chea's prosecutors have  thought about legally seizing the film – a public showing cannot be used  as evidence – but ran out of time. "The investigating judge did ask to  look at the film," says a spokesman for the Extraordinary Chambers in  the Courts of Cambodia, which is prosecuting Nuon Chea. "We wanted to  see if any part of it was interesting and could be used as evidence. The  request was turned down. We don't have any comment on that but the  indictments have been made."
Lemkin stresses that neither he  nor Sambath want to "get in the way" of the court, but says that a truth  and reconciliation process, such as took place in South Africa after  the fall of apartheid, is more important than bringing a handful of  people to justice. "It is more important for people who suffered the  kind of trauma they have suffered to have the fullest public access to  what happened," he says. 
"When a huge number of killings  happen it's not done by one person at the top. There are thousands of  people and they live in communities all over Cambodia. If there's a way  those people can talk and be able to take part in genuine conversation  with the victims, then that's more important than sending one or two of  them to jail."

