PHNOM PENH, Cambodia — He was many things to the Cambodia he helped navigate through half a century of war and genocide — revered independence hero, ruthless monarch and prime minister, communist collaborator, eccentric playboy, avid filmmaker.
Most of all, perhaps, Cambodia’s former King Norodom Sihanouk was a cunning political survivor who reinvented himself repeatedly throughout his flamboyant life.
On Monday, aged 89, Sihanouk died of a heart attack in Beijing, where he had been receiving medical treatment.
First crowned king by the French in 1941 at the age of 18, Sihanouk saw his Southeast Asian nation transformed from colony to kingdom, from U.S.-backed regime to U.S. bombing zone, from Khmer Rouge killing field to what it remains today — a fragile experiment in democracy.
He ruled as a feudal-style absolute monarch, but called himself a democrat. He was a man who sang love songs at elaborate state dinners, brought his French poodle to peace talks, and charmed foreign dignitaries such as Jacqueline Kennedy.
His appetite extended to fast cars, food and women. He married at least five times — some say six — and fathered 14 children.
When the murderous Khmer Rouge seized power in the 1970s, he was reviled as their collaborator. Yet he himself ended up as their prisoner and lost five of his children to the regime.
Later, in the 1990s — after a U.N.-brokered deal to end Cambodia’s long civil war — he recast himself as a peacemaker and constitutional monarch.
“His death was a great loss to Cambodia,” said Prince Sisowath Thomico, who was Sihanouk’s assistant and nephew, adding that Sihanouk had dedicated his life “for the sake of his entire nation, country and for the Cambodian people.”
In 2004, Sihanouk abdicated the throne, citing his poor health. His son Norodom Sihamoni succeeded him.
Cambodian government spokesman Khieu Kanharith said a week of official mourning would be held once the former king’s body is repatriated Wednesday.
A cremation ceremony will be held in three months, according to Buddhist tradition.
The immediate reaction in the Cambodian capital seemed muted, partly because it was a holiday, but many Cambodians are too young to have emotional bonds to a man who in the past two decades has been overshadowed by Hun Sen, the country’s current political strongman.
One of those mourning was 67-year-old Yos Sekchantha, who said she offered prayers that his soul would rest in peace.
“I don’t know much about politics, but the king father was really a good leader and cared about his county and people,” she said as tears welled in her eyes.
