Thailand, Cambodia: Leaders Stoke Border Feud to Cling to Power
Thailand and Cambodia: border tensions, political brinkmanship, and the weary, recurring drama of fragile peace. We tell ourselves stories about nation-states, about rational actors coolly calculating interests on a global chessboard. But scratch the surface, and you find something far messier: a rat king of domestic pressures, historical resentments, and the irresistible lure of zero-sum thinking. These aren’t isolated skirmishes; they’re tremors from a deeper earthquake, a stark reminder that even after decades of formal diplomacy, genuine reconciliation remains a maddeningly distant shore. They reveal a painful truth: the incentives for peace often aren’t aligned with the imperatives of political survival.
According to critics, recent talks aimed at defusing these border issues were “devoid of the central objective,” leaving the core disputes festering. The uncomfortable reality, of course, is that “solving the border issues” isn’t really the objective — at least not for everyone involved. As former foreign minister Surakiart Sathirathai bluntly put it, “Cambodia always does this when it has internal problems… They stir up border tensions to create a nationalist distraction.” This isn’t a novel tactic, and it’s hardly unique to Cambodia. The calculated use of external threats to rally support, deflect blame, and consolidate power is a political fossil, unearthed time and again throughout history.
“Importantly, Thailand must not be outmanoeuvred by Cambodia or domestic actors with shortsighted agendas. National leadership across all sectors must be firm yet diplomatic, peace-loving but not passive, and decisive when necessary.”
The crucial question, then, isn’t merely why these disputes persist, but why they’re so readily weaponized. Why does raising the specter of a foreign enemy resonate so deeply within both Thai and Cambodian societies? The answer lies coiled in history, in the poisonous vines of lingering nationalist narratives, and in the systemic failures of institutions to cultivate genuine trust and cooperation. The Preah Vihear temple dispute, which spiraled into armed clashes a decade ago, remains a potent symbol—a shard of glass embedded in the collective memory, constantly triggering fresh pain and resentment. These aren’t just arguments over geographical lines on a map. They’re existential battles over collective identity, national pride, and, ultimately, political legitimacy. Consider the enduring power of the Khmer Rouge’s anti-Thai propaganda, which, decades later, continues to shape perceptions and fuel suspicion.
Indeed, domestic politics appear to be the accelerant in this recent escalation. The Bangkok Post article describes Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra’s government as being “in a fight for survival,” grappling with eroding public trust and a precariously balanced coalition. The withdrawal of the Bhumjaithai Party has left her administration with a razor-thin majority, while a leaked phone call with Cambodian Senate President Hun Sen has poured gasoline on the flames of public discontent. This paints a picture of a government backed into a corner, possibly even willing to gamble on border tensions as a smokescreen to obscure its internal struggles. Complicating matters further, the Pheu Thai party is now actively pursuing the dissolution of the Bhumjaithai party based on allegations of election meddling, revealing a raw, calculating struggle for political survival beneath the surface of diplomatic tensions.
The expert cited in the article, Panitan Wattanayagorn, advocates a “carrot and stick” approach, pairing incentives for peaceful negotiation with deterrent pressure tactics. But such a strategy, while seemingly pragmatic, risks perpetuating the very dynamics it seeks to overcome. Carrots and sticks inherently reinforce a power imbalance, framing the relationship as one of coercion rather than collaboration. As Dr. Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a political scientist at Chulalongkorn University, has argued, sustainable peace demands more than just transactional agreements and temporary truces. It necessitates a fundamental shift in mindset—a conscious move away from zero-sum thinking toward a shared vision of regional prosperity and collective security. It requires sustained investment in cross-border communities, robust cultural exchange programs, and innovative educational initiatives designed to foster empathy and understanding, replacing suspicion with genuine connection.
This weary cycle of tension and distrust isn’t unique to Thailand and Cambodia. Look to the tinderbox of the Korean peninsula, the perpetually smoldering conflict in Kashmir, or the endlessly complex and tragic dynamics of the Middle East. What we consistently see are states trapped in the amber of historical rivalries, struggling with internal pressures, and spiraling into a self-perpetuating cycle of suspicion and escalation, precisely because it’s often easier than the hard work of building trust. The path to lasting peace, if such a thing can even exist, is rarely linear, and it’s rarely politically rewarding in the short term. The key, as always, is to cultivate the capacity for mutual recognition, to acknowledge the other side’s legitimate concerns and understand their perspectives, even—especially—when they conflict with our own. The challenge, as always, is building systems and fostering a culture where de-escalation is not a sign of weakness but a display of strength—a world where leaders are unable to exploit nationalist narratives and where true cooperation, born not of self-interest but of mutual benefit, prevails.
