Cambodia’s Warming Ties with Washington Reflect Continuity, Not Realignment

In a country often described as Beijing’s most reliable partner in Southeast Asia, the recent sight of Buddhist monks marching through the streets of Phnom Penh with framed portraits of US President Donald Trump was striking. After Cambodian media highlighted his role in resolving the border conflict with Thailand, supporters on social media went as far as proposing that National Highway 4 be renamed after Trump. This charm offensive proved effective. Following the signing of the peace deal, the US lifted its weapons embargo, signed a new bilateral trade agreement, and announced the resumption of joint military exercises with Cambodia that had been frozen since 2017. Although the details remain under negotiation, these moves signal a significant improvement in US-Cambodia ties. 

This juncture appears to mark an abrupt shift in Cambodia’s foreign policy. For years, analysis of Cambodia has focused on China’s growing position as the country’s largest investor, lender, and defence partner. Analysts have long cast Cambodia as a Chinese client state and a showcase of Beijing’s growing reach in mainland Southeast Asia. However, the recent improvement in US-Cambodia relations undercuts this narrative of Beijing’s unshakable dominance in the latter. Yet, treating this moment as evidence of a realignment risks repeating the same error that previously exaggerated China’s leverage: mistaking Cambodia’s strategic flexibility for ideological alignment. 

Cambodia’s first attempt to navigate US and Chinese influence in the late 1950s helps clarify the logic behind its current diplomatic manoeuvring. Following its independence in 1953, Cambodian officials treated foreign assistance as a practical tool to meet national development needs. When the country built its first national radio station in 1958, for instance, US funding equipped the studios while China provided and installed the transmitters. For Cambodian officials, integrating both components of aid was the only economically feasible way to complete the project. However, Washington and Beijing responded to this integrative strategy in different ways.

US personnel viewed the combined radio station as an unacceptable blending of rival assistance and pressed Cambodian ministries to prevent such cooperation in the future. Beijing, by contrast, allowed ministries wide discretion and encouraged the practical integration of Chinese materials with those financed by Western partners. Over time, Washington’s rigidity eroded Cambodian goodwill and contributed to the collapse of the aid relationship in 1963, while China’s flexibility generated political capital despite its far smaller financial footprint. The outcome was a durable pattern in which Cambodian leaders took from each larger power what served their national goals, with the shape of that flexibility shifting alongside domestic priorities.

Cambodia’s first attempt to navigate US and Chinese influence in the late 1950s helps clarify the logic behind its current diplomatic manoeuvring.

Today’s landscape differs sharply from the aid-driven competition of the Cold War. Nevertheless, understanding this earlier period of Cambodia’s history helps make sense of the current moment. This historical perspective clarifies why Phnom Penh’s improved ties with Washington need not signal a turn away from Beijing. Chinese investment remains central to Cambodia’s development strategy. Military cooperation continues as well, with Golden Dragon joint exercises at Ream Naval Base, frequent high-level exchanges, and sustained training programmes.

At the same time, Cambodia has strong incentives to stabilise relations with Washington. Access to the US market is critical for Cambodian exports of garments and footwear, and the deterioration of bilateral ties raised the risk of higher tariffs that would have sharply damaged export competitiveness. Cambodian officials increasingly view improved relations with the Trump administration as the only viable way to avoid the harshest tariffs and preserve market access, on which hundreds of thousands of Cambodian workers depend. Re-engagement with Washington also serves security needs: American equipment and training remain desirable; even limited cooperation would help to diversify Cambodia’s defence relationships. 

Even so, structural constraints limit Cambodia’s room for manoeuvre. These include its concentrated export dependence, the scale of Chinese financing, and a political environment that relies on foreign investment to maintain domestic legitimacy. 

Taken together, these factors show that Cambodia’s diplomacy is guided by a similar logic to its Cold War position: to widen options, secure flexibility, and avoid dependence on a single partner. Present-day gestures toward Washington are best understood as an extension of this pattern rather than a departure from it. Cambodia’s choices reflect a broader regional habit of prioritising strategic flexibility over alignment. 

For Washington, the lesson is straightforward. Cambodia’s recent outreach to the US offers an opportunity, but not because the country is shifting camps. It reflects a long-standing strategy of extracting value from multiple relationships while preserving autonomy. For the US to exert a durable influence in Cambodia, episodic attention motivated by great power rivalry will not suffice. This recent improvement in relations must be followed by consistent economic, political, and security engagement, including regular high-level dialogue and predictable trade and investment channels. Cambodia’s diplomacy makes this clear, reminding policymakers that flexibility, not alignment, remains the region’s — and this small country’s — prevailing strategy. 

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