In 2012, then Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen, promoting a sugar refinery in the Kompong Speu province said, ‘Make the bosses rich in Cambodia,’ a statement that continues to embody the economic policy of Cambodia through Economic Land Concessions or ELCs. An ELC is a long-term lease of land that allows concessionaires to clear it for industrial agriculture as well as mining, logging and port or fishing purposes. According to the Cambodia Human Rights and Development Organization, two million hectares are now under land concessions with private companies, which accounts for 10 percent of Cambodia’s total land area. Licadho, a Cambodian human rights organization, estimates that half of the country’s arable land is now under lease with foreign corporations.
Chompey Fong, the Vice President of the Cambodian Indigenous Women’s Association (CIWA) and a member of the Jarai ethnic minority, laments the ongoing environmental destruction and attacks against indigenous communities due to these extractive industries – projects pushed by the government through ELCs to supposedly promote development and increase job opportunities, but in reality favor foreign corporations over the plight of locals.
“When the company starts clearing the land, ownership is given to the company. No one can enter, not even the indigenous peoples whose livelihood depends on the forests,” says Chompey.
ELCs have also been reported to account for 40 percent of deforestation in the country. Instead of fulfilling promises of development, livelihoods and better opportunities for local communities, ELCs have instead led to widespread ecological destruction as Cambodia’s forests were cleared for agricultural plantations that have since been abandoned. In 2012, the government handed out land concessions that included lands within national parks and protected areas, which has resulted in conflict with local communities and conservationists. As of 2022, 3.2 percent of ELCs overlap with protected areas enabling timber laundering and logging.
Who benefits?
According to Chompey, indigenous communities who inhabit many of these forested areas where ELCs are located have since then experienced violence at the hands of the military and land grabbers. This is due to the fact that many of these ELCs are owned by individuals linked to the ruling elite of the country, who have maintained their power while leaving locals at the margins.
“When there is land grabbing related to a military personnel, the authorities don’t do anything. They only rely on the indigenous community to solve that issue; the government doesn’t intervene.”
In many cases, members of indigenous communities and activists have experienced harassment, surveillance, death threats, and even arrests on trumped up charges. This has led to not only increased risk when these communities and their allies defend their territories, but also legal cases that involve corruption and bribery.
“The indigenous community will be accused by that person. Then they will be the one who commits a crime against this person. The military would often accuse a member of the indigenous community of committing a crime against them. They would then be thrown in jail and would need to pay the land grabber,” adds Chompey.
Despite the ban on issuing new ELCs since May 2012, much of the land and forest remains in the hands of concessionaires who control 14 percent of the country’s lands through 313 ELCs according to Licadho. Instead of fulfilling promises of prosperity, communities have since experienced loss of livelihoods and land, as well as food insecurity.
“The loss of land is a pressing concern. We cannot farm as we did in the past, where we practiced crop rotation. Now, we do it only in one place and have very little choice besides monocropping. In the past, we grew a lot of things. We harvested our own products. We even had access to the forests. There was enough to eat for everyone,” Chompey explains.
The loss is not just about food; it is the erasure of indigenous knowledge, traditions, and their connection to the land.
Landlessness and gender inequality
Cambodian women suffer another layer of injustice because of gender inequality within Cambodian society. In 2021, the country ranked 121st out of 156 countries, according to the World Economic Forum Gender Gap Report 2021. Conservative cultural norms continue to prevail in the country, where women are deemed inferior to men, thus leading to lack of women’s representation in various levels of leadership and representation, as well as lack of opportunities outside expected gender roles.
With the lack of food security and the precarity of livelihood and incomes, women are expected not only to work outside the home to increase income of the household, but to provide food and cover children’s expenses. If not fulfilled, women experience domestic violence in the hands of their partners and families.
“If they don’t have anything to cook, violence is inflicted on the women of the household. While in the past, women had time to rest and care for themselves; but now, women are forced to constantly work and ensure that they can cover the expenses, including children’s school expenses,” laments Chompey.
Women land and territory defenders fight back
The loss of land is not just an economic or environmental crisis—it is an attack on identity, dignity, and survival. But indigenous women are refusing to be erased. Faced with the encroachment of ELCs and the rising threats of violence, women have mobilized to defend their communities and reclaim their rights. It was in this context of dispossession and struggle that the Cambodian Indigenous Women’s Association (CIWA) was formed—the first organization of its kind led by indigenous women themselves. CIWA was not just created to resist land grabs; it was a deliberate effort to build indigenous women’s leadership, strengthen their advocacy skills, and unite them in the fight for land, dignity, and self-determination.
Through organizing, women are not only resisting—they are reshaping the landscape of power. By training each other on legal rights, documenting human rights violations, and lobbying local and international bodies, CIWA has created a powerful front against corporate greed and government complicity. Their resistance is not just about holding the line; it is about reclaiming their right to exist on their own terms.
Meanwhile, according to Chompey, the government revoked the maximum concession contract of ELCs in May 2014 from 99 years to 50 years due to pressures from nationwide protests by indigenous groups, conservationists and their allies. She adds that the Cambodian government itself had no interest in keeping concession contracts for 99 years due to the lack of compliance and absence of any development by several firms.
Strength in solidarity and the Power of the Youth
According to Chompey, much of the hardship in organizing against these large extractive industries stems from fake news, harassment and intimidation against their communities. Threats against their livelihood make it hard for individuals to take initiative or join the struggle to defend their forests and lands, especially when many indigenous people have fallen into debt in a country with one of the highest rates of microloans per capita.
Yet despite this, Chompey believes that indigenous communities can find strength in defending their lands by building solidarity.
“We are small in number but we are united, protecting each other together. We can build solidarity, united as one community. If we keep doing this, I believe that someday we can address community issues.”
The first step in building this solidarity, in Chompey’s assessment, is elevating people’s political consciousness by helping them understand how these systems operate. Some groups she’s working with are currently collecting data and doing research on the funding and mechanisms behind extractives, while others are still identifying what role they play in these systems. A key group in advancing their struggle is the youth.
“We may need some time to develop ourselves, but I believe the next generation can break this wall. They are strong. If we continue with them, we might be able to dismantle the system gradually together,” Chompey shares.
Building power through collective action
Chompey’s fight for land and indigenous rights has been long and difficult, but a crucial moment in her journey came in 2024 when she joined JASS’ first Southeast Asian Feminist Movement Builders School (FMBS) in the Philippines. More than just a space for solidarity, the school gave her the tools to analyze power structures, map connections between extractive industries and political elites, and sharpen strategies for resistance.
“Working on issues such as defending land and territories and protecting the environment—it is quite hostile. Sometimes, it is even disencouraging. But since we have the process in JASS, I was able to understand the analysis of the system better, including the systemic problems and solutions. I realized that we need to be more critical of that system,” shares Chompey.
The FMBS became a safe space to share ideas and to build on a shared understanding and analysis of contexts, as well as collectively strategizing towards strengthening movements against extractives, which Chompey shares, is not an easy task.
“The struggle is quite tough for us. We need each other to break through all these. We need to collectively analyze.”
For Chompey, FMBS provided exactly that collective space – not just to share experiences, but to build a stronger, more strategic fight against land grabbing. Equipped with new insights and connections, she returned to CIWA with a renewed commitment to deepening political analysis and organizing Indigenous women to push back against extractive corporations.
Despite the challenges ahead, Chompey found strength through the school and pledges to continue the struggle for indigenous rights and the rights of women in her community. When asked how she will be using her experiences during the school to empower her fellow land defenders, she says:
“After the FMBS school, I committed to meeting the team once a month, and to leading the discussions on a deeper analysis of the system. Now, I understand the interconnectedness of all these aspects. With this knowledge, I saw more clearly what we should do and what to do in CIWA,” Chompey concludes.
Since FMBS, Chompey has taken the insights from the school and turned them into action. She now leads monthly strategy sessions with her team at CIWA, strengthening their collective understanding of the extractive system and its political backers. By drawing from the organizing lessons of other women defenders across Southeast Asia, CIWA is refining its approach to resisting land grabs and protecting Indigenous communities.
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