Cambodia’s Border Brinksmanship: IEDs and Drones Stoke Rising Tensions With Thailand
Beneath Thai assurances, Cambodia’s IEDs signal rising tensions, algorithmic warfare, and a struggle for regional power amid historical grievances.
Denial, as Joan Didion famously wrote, is a “program, written out longhand, that runs the body.” It’s a useful frame for the Bangkok Post“s report on Cambodian troop movements near the Thai border, and Lt Gen Boonsin Padklang’s assurances of 'no cause for alarm.” These pronouncements are not simply strategic obfuscation; they are active programs, running on deeply ingrained biases, historical amnesias, and institutional incentives. They prioritize the illusion of control over the messy, unpredictable reality of geopolitical tension.
The deployment of a Cambodian Bodyguard Headquarters (BHQ) unit, affiliated with Senate President Hun Sen’s inner circle, near Phu Makua, is downplayed as “normal observation and troop rotation." Deputy Defence Minister Gen Nattaphon Narkphanit’s revelation of IEDs planted by Cambodian forces near Prasat Ta Kwai is met with instructions to 'neutralize any explosives immediately." The tone is clinical, detached — the language of a system performing as designed.
'Phu Makua is Thai territory, and we are ready to secure it,” Lt Gen Boonsin said.
But what is “Thai territory,” and who decides? Beneath the cartographic certainty lies a fundamental question about power, legitimacy, and the shifting sands of regional influence. This isn’t merely a border disagreement; it’s a contest for narrative control, a struggle to define the very terms of engagement. And it’s a contest not just between Thailand and Cambodia, but between competing factions within each nation, each vying for dominance in a rapidly changing political landscape.
Zooming out, the Thai-Cambodian border has been a site of intermittent conflict for decades, punctuated by periods of uneasy peace. Consider the 2008 clashes around Preah Vihear temple, a UNESCO World Heritage site, which saw both sides deploying significant military force and inflamed nationalist passions. Or the ongoing, often illicit, exploitation of rosewood forests along the Dangrek Mountains, a source of immense profit that fuels corruption and cross-border criminality. These aren’t isolated incidents; they are nodes in a complex web of historical grievances, economic imperatives, and political calculations.
These tensions aren’t simply relics of the past. They are symptoms of a deeper pathology: the limitations of ASEAN’s conflict resolution mechanisms and the persistent lure of strongman politics. As Benedict Anderson argued in Imagined Communities, nations are, at their core, narratives. When those narratives are threatened — by internal dissent, economic instability, or perceived external aggression — the temptation to reinforce national identity through territorial assertion becomes almost irresistible.
Moreover, the technological arms race playing out along the border reveals a disturbing trend. Lt Gen Boonsin’s emphasis on drones, vehicles, and mine detectors isn’t just about tactical advantage. It reflects a broader shift towards algorithmic warfare, where decisions about escalation and de-escalation are increasingly delegated to machines. This creates a feedback loop: increased surveillance leads to increased suspicion, which leads to increased investment in technology, which further erodes trust. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy of escalating conflict.
The discovery of IEDs is a textbook example of what Robert Pape, a University of Chicago political scientist, calls “costly signaling.” Cambodia, lacking Thailand’s military might, is employing asymmetric tactics to demonstrate its resolve and raise the stakes. The message is clear: lasting stability requires genuine reciprocity, a willingness to address underlying grievances, and a commitment to equitable resource sharing. Empty pronouncements of sovereignty simply won’t cut it.
Perhaps the assurances of sovereignty are genuine. Perhaps there truly isn’t a cause for immediate alarm. But the danger lies not in a sudden invasion, but in the gradual erosion of shared understanding. It’s in the normalization of brinksmanship, the hardening of entrenched positions, and the slow death of diplomatic imagination. The true cost isn’t measured in territorial gains or losses, but in the squandered opportunities for building a more stable, prosperous, and interconnected region. And in geopolitics, as in life, those missed connections are the ghosts that come back to haunt us.