Who Owes the Nation? Youth, Gender and Conscription in Southeast Asia

Every April in Thailand, 21-year-old men go through a lottery that determines the next two years of their lives. They report to local district draft centres for registration, where drawing a red card means compulsory military service; a black card, exemption. This event captures why conscription remains a charged issue across Southeast Asia. Governments continue to frame mandatory service as a defence necessity and a nation‑building exercise. Yet, for the generation expected to serve, the meaning of conscription is far less settled. The question is no longer only whether conscription works, but whether it still resonates with today’s youths. 

A regional survey by the ISEAS – Yusof Ishak Institute examined the views of 3,081 undergraduates across six Southeast Asian countries in 2024, and found that nearly 60 per cent of Thai undergraduates strongly disagreed that military service should be mandatory, as did more than a third of Indonesian ones. In contrast, around 18 per cent of Singaporean undergraduates and 14 per cent of Vietnamese undergraduates strongly opposed mandatory service.  

These findings suggest that perceptions of national service in Southeast Asia did not emerge uniformly. In many countries, conscription was introduced during decolonisation, prolonged warfare or to face perceived existential threats. Vietnam’s system reflects its history of sustained conflict, requiring men aged 18-25 years old to serve between 18 and 24 months. Laos similarly mandates service for men aged 18 to 26 years old. Singapore, one of the region’s most institutionalised examples, requires all male citizens and permanent residents to complete two years of National Service (NS). NS is a policy the government has justified by citing Singapore’s vulnerability, small population size and need for deterrence. In these countries, conscription is presented as a normalised rite of passage tied closely to citizenship.

Elsewhere, the picture is more fragmented. Malaysia has no compulsory draft but in 2025 relaunched a voluntary National Service programme (PLKN 3.0), emphasising patriotism and unity rather than military readiness. The Philippines abolished mandatory Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) in 2002, yet proposals to revive compulsory cadet training have resurfaced regularly, especially amid tensions in the South China Sea. Meanwhile, Cambodia plans to activate a long‑dormant law in 2026 that will require men aged 18-30 years old to serve two years.

Therefore, it is crucial to examine the structural backdrop against which youth perceptions of militarism take shape. Supporters of conscription often point to its nation‑building potential. The logic is straightforward: when young people from different ethnic, religious and socioeconomic backgrounds train together, they develop shared experiences and a common national identity. In Singapore, it has long been argued that common barracks and training regimes expose recruits to peers they might otherwise never meet, helping to forge inter‑racial trust and a distinctly Singaporean identity. Shared drills, anthems and collective memories can reinforce loyalty to the nation over narrower subgroup identities such as race or income level.

However, the nationalism-conscription link is not absolute or unproblematic. Critics point out that conscripts’ unity may be more instrumental than genuine, warning of a “civil-military gap”. This is because shared hardship builds camaraderie among soldiers, while exposure to military hierarchy, state authority, or perceived inefficiencies and inequalities in how conscription is implemented can lead some to question or distrust the political system that required their service. In Thailand, anecdotes of conscripts encountering corruption or inefficiency during training have fuelled scepticism rather than pride.

This highlights a broader pattern: in heterogeneous or politically open societies, conscription may provoke resistance, whereas in more regimented states it may be accepted as an unquestioned civic duty. As a result, conscription might generate short‑term solidarity without necessarily translating into deeper or lasting nationalist sentiment.

These tensions become clearest when examining youth perspectives, which matter because young people are the ones who will shoulder the social, economic and strategic consequences of today’s defence and conscription debates. Global military expenditure has hit record highs, with countries across Asia and Europe allocating larger shares of their budgets to defence in response to perceived threats. This surge influences national priorities, but young people are the ones drafted and affected by conscription.

In the Philippines, some youth have publicly denounced plans by Vice President Sara Duterte to reintroduce compulsory military service. In 2022, the Student Christian Movement of the Philippines warned that forcing 18-year-olds into the army would turn them into “fodders of a fascist institution” and stressed that the military had become “instruments of state-sponsored violence”.

Even in countries where conscription is widely accepted, priorities are shifting. Younger Singaporeans increasingly emphasise career prospects, wages and quality of life, often demanding better pay, treatment and recognition during NS. This reflects a broader generational recalibration: military duty is no longer automatically central to how young Singaporean men imagine their futures.

Current debates over conscription extend to who should serve. Traditionally, conscription systems have overwhelmingly targeted men. Women are typically exempt or allowed to serve on a voluntary basis but in limited vocations. Proposals for gender‑neutral conscription remain politically sensitive. In Singapore, the issue of women’s NS resurfaces periodically. In 2022, then Defence Minister Ng Eng Hen argued that mandatory NS for women would impose societal and economic costs that far outweigh potential benefits, delaying workforce entry and reducing household incomes without addressing an urgent security need. Scholars note that calls for female conscription often have more to do with symbolic politics than with practical defence needs. For instance, one observed that “‘female conscription’ has become a lip-service tool for populist politicians”, used to placate misogynist resentment over unequal duties.

At the same time, advocates of gender‑neutral service argue that inclusion could promote equality and expand manpower. Some countries have opted for gradual integration instead. Malaysia’s PLKN 3.0 pilot accepts female volunteers and several Southeast Asian militaries have opened combat or technical roles to women without mandating enlistment.

National history, political context, and lived experience deeply shape youth perceptions of conscription in Southeast Asia. While conscription can bind a generation to state-imposed ideals, it can also intensify scepticism when imposed without broad consent or clear purpose. Ongoing debates, ranging from mandatory ROTC (cadet training) in the Philippines to the gendered boundaries of NS in Singapore, underscore that the questions of ‘who serves’ and ‘why they serve’ remain unsettled. As governments revisit military conscription in an uncertain security environment, the voices of the young people most affected will continue to be central to its legitimacy.

Editor’s Note:
ASEANFocus+ articles are timely critical insight pieces published by the ASEAN Studies Centre.