More space was devoted to “The Plan to Build Heavy Industry” than to any other section, even though heavy industrialization would not be set in motion until the Four Year Plan was complete. In speaking about it, the leaders of the party seem to have been mesmerized by a vision of the future that included a thriving industrial sector serviced by an expanded proletariat. Factories with smoking chimneys, after all, appeared alongside rice fields on the country’s coat of arms, and a third of the candidates to the National Assembly had run as “workers.” This expansion would be accomplished regardless of resources, finances, or feasibility. Here again, the leaders’ ignorance of industry and their refusal to use experts or take advice meant that their proposals were doomed to failure, except insofar as they could be accomplished by technical assistance from other countries. In large measure, this is just what happened—Chinese and North Korean aid concentrated on refurbishing prerevolutionary industries and building new ones. In addition, the plan talks about unverified petroleum deposits, coal mining (“If there’s any coal, we’ll find it”), and building an “iron-smelting factory of overseas standard,” even though no exploitable deposits of iron ore exist in the country. Cambodia has never had the resources to sustain industrialization.14

The remainder of the plan seems hastily flung together. Under “Trade,” for instance, “imports” consist of “screws and nuts, spare parts, agricultural and industrial machinery, necessary goods for the livelihood of the people, and goods for national defense.” Under “Tourism” came the laconic note: “Must organize: hotels, water, electricity, ... places to relax.” The section on health and welfare stressed the importance of traditional healers (kruu khmer) working with local medical remedies. This preference reflected the triumphalism of the regime, echoed the policies of “barefoot doctors” in China and was seen as a way of saving money. The results of the poorly conceived medical program were disastrous. Survivors’ memories teem with grisly accounts of arrogant, untrained medical practitioners in the countryside—many under fifteen years old—and of the regime’s insistence on prerevolutionary (indeed, precolonial) cures, without emphasizing hygiene or heeding diagnoses. In many areas, people who were ill received fewer rations than those who were able to work. Once again, achieving public health was conceived in terms of storming attacks. Under “General Hygiene,” for example, the plan proposed to “instigate a mass movement for general hygiene in every field” but provided no details.

The plan underscored the importance of accelerating collectivization, a program that was seen as synonymous with society’s well-being. Collectivization, it was thought, would raise the people’s living standards: “In 1977 there are to be two desserts per week. In 1978 there will be one dessert every two days. Then in 1979, one dessert every day, and so on.” This macabre pledge is the only material incentive mentioned in the plan.