In The Shadow Of The Banyan

One of the first things that sets In the Shadow of the Banyan apart from many other autobiographical war diaries is its genre. Although Raami’s story is very similar to the author’s, Ratner chose to write a fiction novel rather than a nonfiction memoir. Part of this grew out of practical concerns. In a Q&A section at the end of the book, Ratner writes, “I was a small child when the Khmer Rouge took over the country. Revisiting that period of our life, I found that I couldn’t trust myself completely to recall the exact details of the events” (328). One wonders if Ratner was thinking of the mixed reception to Loung Ung’s 2000 memoir concerning the Cambodian genocide, First They Killed My Father. Though praised for its artistry, the book came under criticism over its factual accuracy. This criticism was largely rooted in the fact that Ung was only five years old when the genocide began—the same age as Ratner—and therefore could not have recalled the incidents with such clarity. Whatever her motivation, to establish the book as a work of fiction Ratner changed the names of most of the characters. The lone exception is that of her father, Sisowath Ayuravann, which makes sense given how central a presence he is in the narrative, both before and after his death.

There are other reasons Ratner shied away from writing a memoir. In that same Q&A, the author says she wanted to create a work of art that reflected something more expansive than simply her own experience or even the experience of the Cambodian genocide more generally. She writes, “What I wanted to articulate is something more universal, more indicative, I believe, of the human experience—our struggle to hang onto life, our desire to live, even in the most awful circumstances” (328). This theme of survival will grow more profound as the suffering Raami endures increases over the course of the book. Even at this stage of the novel, this theme emerges in Papa’s story about how the strength of the Mekong River causes large tributaries to reverse current. While Raami’s family is at present caught in a deadly current headed toward ruin, if even rivers can change course, Raami should hold onto hope that survival is possible.

Although the book may not be a memoir, it still stems from the perspective of a young child. As a result, the narrative only touches briefly on the political context surrounding the Khmer Rouge and the devastation it causes. These contextual clues generally come in the form of overheard conversations between Papa and Big Uncle. On one hand, the fact that the ideological reasons behind the evacuation and slaughter remain veiled help to emphasize the profound incomprehensibility of the suffering Raami endures. On the other hand, as a work of historical fiction, the book begs the reader to consider the historical and political context surrounding the Cambodian genocide in order to better understand how such an atrocity could have ever taken place.

While the name Pol Pot never appears in the book, this individual is key to understanding how the Cambodian genocide came about. Born to wealthy farmers, Pot was part of a tiny portion of Cambodia’s population afforded the opportunity to attend elite schools in his home country and in Europe. While studying in France, he joined the French Communist Party and began to espouse a Marxist-Leninist ideology that supported collectivization, anti-capitalism, and atheism. He also implemented important elements of Maoism, which elevated the rural peasantry as the true revolutionaries, rather than the working-class proletariat. This explains why the Khmer Rouge, then under Pot’s leadership, emptied the cities and sought to purge society of intellectuals like Papa. The irony is that Pot’s background—an intellectual educated in European schools—is not so different than Papa’s.

As Pot sought to return Cambodia to its former glory as an agricultural giant, he stratified the countryside’s population into “base people”—peasants whose families had worked the land for generations—and “new people”—individuals like Raami and her family. Scholars differ over whether Pot intended to exterminate the new people or simply disenfranchise them. Pol Pot biographer Philip Short writes that Pot hoped to double the country’s population within a decade rather than reduce it by 25 percent, which is what happened as a result of his policies. (Short, Philip. Pol Pot: The History of a Nightmare. London: John Murray. 2004.) Yet due to the dramatically unequal treatment of the base people versus the new people, combined with the chaotic and disorganized implementation of his policies, roughly 1.8 million Cambodians died during the period covered by In the Shadow of the Banyan.

Finally, these early chapters signal that elements of Cambodian folklore and spirituality will be pervasive motifs throughout the book. For example, when the Khmer Rouge arrive at her compound, Raami is reading the Reamker, a Cambodian epic poem that is central to the country’s culture. She jokingly refers to the interlopers as tevodas, angels rooted in Hinduism that emerged in Cambodian Buddhism when the country made Buddhism its state religion. The characters write their own myths as well, like Grandmother Queen’s prophecy that the war will leave only enough Cambodians alive who can fit under a banyan tree. In Hindu and Buddhist cultures, the banyan tree symbolizes immortality and longevity. This suggests that the Khmer Rouge’s destruction will be so complete that only immortal beings will survive it. There is also a measure of irony to the prophecy in that, compared to other trees, the shaded area under a banyan tree is quite large. Yet compared to the entire population of Cambodia, the number of people who can fit under a banyan tree is miniscule.

These story elements from religion and folklore will become even more important to Raami as her suffering worsens. They will keep Raami tethered to the memory of her father, who above all else was a storyteller and poet to his daughter. Moreover, the act of losing oneself in religious imagery and storytelling becomes a form of silent rebellion for Raami against the Khmer Rouge, a group ideologically opposed to Buddhism or any other religion. Both of these uses of spiritual imagery will serve Raami as she struggles to survive amid the terrors of the Cambodian genocide.