It seems that Pol Pot still has supporters in Cambodia

It seems Pol Pot is not universally hated even in Kampuchea. He has many supporters who lived near him who see him as a larger than life personality who has almost saint-like qualities. Here is an example of this from the New York Times - សតិវេណុ ទតុ


New York Times September 26, 2007:
Anlong Veng Journal; Praying to Pol Pot, Seeking Health and Good Luck


By SETH MYDANS
Published: June 23, 2001
Only the buzz of cicadas and the croaking of frogs break the silence here in the remote Dangrek Mountains. The damp monsoon air is filled with black butterflies.
Grinning and chattering about his war wounds like a man who has seen too much death, a villager named Som Neum, wearing only a dirty sarong around his waist, pushed aside reeds and brambles as he led a visitor up a rocky path to a small clearing.
Here, under a makeshift tin roof, lies the grave of one of the 20th century's worst mass killers, Pol Pot, who died three years ago leaving behind him a country stunned and ruined, where every person is a shattered survivor or the child of one.
From 1975 to 1979, Pol Pot ruled Cambodia, heading the Khmer Rouge government, which was responsible for more than a million deaths. The country has never recovered.
At the grave, Mr. Son Neum, 40, bent and with careful fingertips brushed away a scattering of twigs and leaves. Pol Pot was a good man, he said, so he has taken it on himself to tend this all but abandoned plot.
This is the place where Pol Pot, rejected at the end even by his Khmer Rouge followers, was cremated in disgrace on top of a stack of old tires and debris, the acrid black smoke curling up above the jungle trees.
There is still a rubble of black cinders among the sand and pebbles under the little roof, and strips of tire treads that survived the flames, as well as a tangle of thin radial wire salvaged from the burned tires.
Nearby is a wood marker reading, ''Pol Pot's cremation site.'' Nailed beneath the roof is a sign that says, ''Please help maintain this.''
What is most unsettling to an outsider is not that the grave has been forgotten, but that it has been remembered; people have come here to pay their respects.
At the head of the grave is a small cluster of their offerings: an empty Angkor beer can, a plastic water bottle, an unopened chocolate wafer bar, five cigarette butts on little skewers, a tin of joss sticks, a spray of wilted flowers.
Who has prayed here?
''They come for lottery numbers,'' said Mr. Som Neum, spitting out seeds from a handful of small blue berries. ''They pray to him. They ask his soul to tell them the winning numbers and the numbers come to them in dreams.''
And these are not necessarily hard-core Khmer Rouge. Like Mr. Som Neum, they include the villagers and soldiers who call these mountains home.
There are those in the mountain villages nearby who say they have won with the lottery numbers Pol Pot has given them. Others say they pray to him for health and good luck. Some say his spirit can cure disease.
In death, it seems, Pol Pot has become something of a patron saint of the Dangrek Mountains. Here along the northern border with Thailand, in one of the last strongholds of his Khmer Rouge movement, he is remembered by many with respect and by some with reverence.