Riel of Fortune

For much too long, Cambodian Chief of State Norodom Sihanouk fretted over the addiction of his "petit peuple" to gambling. All his antigambling laws --and regular police crackdowns on Pnompenh's 40-odd illegal houses of chance--had no effect. Cambodians and the equally avid Chinese and Vietnamese residents in the capital continued to gamble their riels away. Profits to the illicit houses were put at about $20 million a year.

Unable to beat the houses, Sihanouk decided to go them one better. Now le tout Pnompenh is flocking to a spectacular riverside gambling complex, opened as a government monopoly in February. Inside a huge casino, thousands challenge the laws of chance in an assortment of card and dice games; in nine nearby air-conditioned chalets, the more affluent play roulette, chemin de fer and mah-jongg. Of the daily winnings of $75,000, the government skims off $40,000, while $25,000 goes to cover operating expenditures. The rest of the take is divided among 25 concessionaires, including several owners of now-closed illegal houses.

The benefits have been felt across the board. Government revenues are up 10% over last year, thanks entirely to the new operation. Cambodia's local industries have benefited: all the pieces of casino equipment--including dice, roulette wheels, cards and chemin de fer "shoes"--are made at home. Several pawnshops have sprung into existence to help out unlucky bettors.

Sihanouk at first ordained that, to give the operation a bit of class, each bettor must wear a tie. Standards slipped quickly. The basic gaming uniform now is simply shirt, long trousers and shoes. For barefoot peasants who have the dels to gamble, a rent-a-sandal business thrives just outside the casino entrance.

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