ANLONG VENGM, Cambodia – The Khmer Rouge might have abolished money during their genocidal regime but now the Cambodian government is charging tourists $2 to visit the spot where their murderous leader, Pol Pot, was disposed of.

Cambodia is still struggling to deal with the legacy of the Khmer Rouge, estimated to have killed around 1.7 million people from 1975-79, and has only just passed legislation to set up an international tribunal to try the regime’s surviving leaders for crimes against humanity.

At the same time, Pol Pot’s cremation site is the prime asset in a plan to develop Anlong Veng, their last stronghold, into a tourist attraction. Down a narrow path behind a roadside market, through the wooden huts of a small Cambodian army encampment, the spot where the genocidal killer’s remains were cremated has become a shrine.

A corrugated metal roof has been put up to protect the ashes from the elements, and scraps of rubber and wire from the tires that made up the pyre are still visible. Offerings of meat and water stand before it along with scores of incense sticks stuck in a tin.

Three miles down a dirt road, past twin signs reading “Welcome to Anlong Veng tourist area” and “Danger Mines” stand the remains of the house of Brother Number One, as Pol Pot was known. Once a spacious abode on the crest of the Dangrek escarpment, it commands a view across the Cambodian plain and has the benefit of the Thai border, an easy escape route, a few hundred yards away.

Six years after Pol Pot died – after being deposed and tried by his former comrades – little remains of the structure except for a concrete basement, a tiled floor, and the brick walls of two rooms, one containing the smashed remains of a Western-style lavatory.

Two cranes stand nearby ready to build a casino to lure visitors once the go-ahead is given.

“Without tourism development other businesses will not do well,” said the manager of the Anlong Veng tourist office, Seng Sokheng, who estimated the cost of the works at $1 million.

Despite the incongruity of charging – in dollars – for admission to the homes of Maoist leaders who abolished money when they were in power, the plans include ticket booths, much needed road improvements, and boat trips on a nearby reservoir.

One former Khmer Rouge explosives specialist, who did not want to give his name, welcomed the proposals.

“Whether you want it or not, Pol Pot is a real hero,” he said. “It’s sad and it’s bad that he passed away.”

Others feel the development is inappropriate. “It’s absurd,” said one historian. “Cambodia is pimping its history of trauma.”

Cambodia’s tourism secretary, Thong Khon, who lost 18 members of his family under the regime, insisted that was not the case.

“I don’t think about the money,” he said. “I want to educate my younger generation to know what Pol Pot has done.” When they came to power in 1975, the Khmer Rouge evacuated Cambodia’s cities and sought to create an agrarian utopia in the countryside, with enemies real or imagined executed.

Twenty-five years after a Vietnamese invasion ousted the regime, none of its senior commanders have faced justice.

With some former Khmer Rouge members in high positions in the Cambodian government, it took five years of negotiations to agree to setting up an international tribunal with the United Nations, and questions remain over its funding. Phnom Penh says it cannot afford the $57 million the proceedings will cost.

Nevertheless, activists are optimistic that the proceedings will go ahead.

Kek Galabru, president of the human rights group Licadho, said: “They killed almost 2 million people and no one has been tried. We have to do something to be able to look at the new generation and say impunity is not acceptable.”

Only two senior Khmer Rouge leaders are currently in custody.