Thai and Cambodian peace protestors condemning the Thai-Cambodia Border conflict on 2 August 2025 (Photo Composite: Anusak Laowilas/NurPhoto via AFP (L) & TANG CHHIN Sothy/ AFP (R))

Thai-Cambodian Dispute: Differing Configurations of Nationalism and Legitimacy

Published

A durable peace at the Thai-Cambodian border requires a rethinking of how nationalism, history, and legitimacy are mobilised on both sides of the demarcation.

Although Cambodia and Thailand reaffirmed a second ceasefire on 27 December  2025, the situation remains fragile. Restoring normalcy, both along the border and in diplomatic relations, will take time. The renewed clashes cannot be understood simply as a contested border dispute or a temporary diplomatic failure. While domestic political issues in both countries contributed to the initial violence in July 2025, the resurgence of military confrontation four months later reveals a deeper structural dynamic: the instrumentalisation of nationalism for domestic political survival in Thailand. This stands in contrast to Cambodia’s peace-oriented civic patriotism.

On 8 December 2025, Thailand launched airstrikes inside Cambodian territory following an incident in which two Thai soldiers were injured by a landmine. Thai authorities claimed the explosive device was newly laid in violation of the Kuala Lumpur Peace Accord signed on 26 October 2025. Using this allegation as justification, Bangkok escalated military operations and delayed the release of 18 Cambodian soldiers captured during the July clashes — moves that undermined the spirit of the ceasefire even if they did not formally abrogate it.

Senior Thai officials’ rhetoric pointed toward escalation rather than restraint. Thailand’s foreign minister stated publicly that “military action would continue until sovereignty and territorial integrity were no longer challenged,” while the army chief of staff was quoted in Thai media as declaring an objective to “render the Cambodian military ineffective for a long time.” This language goes beyond deterrence or border defence. It implies long-term military degradation of a weaker neighbour and reflects a persistent centre-periphery logic within Thai strategic culture, where Cambodia is often treated less as a sovereign equal than as a manageable frontier problem.

Importantly, Thai public opinion on the border is shaped not primarily by fear of Cambodia as a military threat, but by a deeply rooted sense of historical aggrievement tied to the idea of “lost territories.” This sentiment centres above all on the 1904-1907 Franco–Siamese Treaties, under which the Kingdom of Siam transferred Battambang, Siem Reap, and Sisophon to French Indochina. In Thai nationalist memory, this episode symbolises victimhood at the hands of Western imperialism and a perceived injustice that has never been fully rectified. Cambodia, as the successor state to French Indochina, is often implicitly folded into this narrative.

The escalation also intersected with Thailand’s domestic political fragility. Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul’s decision to dissolve Parliament and call a snap election in February 2026 cannot be attributed solely to the Cambodia crisis. It was also driven by coalition instability, declining public trust, and unresolved questions of legitimacy surrounding civilian–military relations. Still, the border confrontation provided a politically useful backdrop. National security crises have long allowed Thai governments to project decisiveness and to re-centre the military as the ultimate guardian of the nation, thereby muting scrutiny of internal political dysfunction.

Cambodia’s response highlights a contrasting political culture that deserves closer attention. Public discourse in Cambodia — among civil society actors, Buddhist monks, ordinary citizens, and even some opposition figures — has emphasised peace, restraint, and humanitarian concerns rather than calls for retaliation. This orientation is not accidental. Cambodian civic patriotism has its roots in the post-Khmer Rouge public sphere, shaped by the trauma of prolonged civil war, mass violence, and social disintegration. For many Cambodians, especially older generations, peace is not an abstract ideal but a hard-won collective good, the loss of which would carry unbearable costs.

The contrast with Thailand is therefore not one between virtue and vice, but between two different configurations of nationalism and legitimacy.

At the same time, civic patriotism in Cambodia cannot be understood without acknowledging its entanglement with state power. Under Hun Sen’s 38-year rule, peace has been elevated from a social aspiration into a central pillar of regime legitimacy. Since at least the late 1990s, the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP) has portrayed itself as the sole guarantor of stability after decades of war. This framing was formalised in January 2020 through the “Thank You Peace (Arkun Santepheap)” campaign, which urged citizens to credit the CPP for ending the Khmer Rouge conflict and warned that political change could jeopardise hard-won peace and stability.

During the 2025 border crisis, this peace discourse again served multiple functions. It allowed the Phnom Penh government to condemn Thai military escalation and appeal to international audiences, while simultaneously reinforcing domestic authority through claims of moral restraint and historical responsibility. In this sense, peace operates both as a genuine societal value and as an instrument of governance — one that narrows the space for imagining alternative political futures. For example, in January 2024, the Cambodian government designated 29 December as “Cambodia’s Peace Day,” an official holiday embedded with political rhetoric.

This duality raises difficult questions about Cambodian complicity. The same state that invokes peace has tolerated, and in some cases benefited from, the proliferation of transnational scam centers that have trafficked and enslaved thousands across the region. Civic patriotism has not translated into sustained public mobilisation against these abuses, revealing its limits when peace rhetoric collides with entrenched political–economic interests. Similarly, Hun Sen’s prominent behind-the-scenes role — overshadowing his son, PM Hun Manet — in managing the current crisis underscores how peace is mediated through personalised power, even as it resonates deeply within society.

The contrast with Thailand is therefore not one between virtue and vice, but between two different configurations of nationalism and legitimacy. Thailand’s militarised nationalism draws strength from historical grievances, hierarchical political culture, and the normalisation of force as a tool of governance. Cambodia’s civic patriotism emphasises collective survival and restraint, yet is absorbed into a ruling narrative that equates peace with regime continuity.

As long as nationalism in Thailand continues to function as a mechanism for domestic power consolidation, border crises will remain tempting tools of governance. In Cambodia, peace operates both as a social value and a political instrument, giving it real but constrained stabilising potential. Durable peace will require not only ceasefires, but a rethinking of how nationalism, history, and legitimacy are mobilised on both sides of the border.

2026/20

Soksamphoas Im, PhD, is Associate Director of the Asian Studies Centre at Michigan State University and an Affiliated Scholar at the University of Michigan’s Centre for Southeast Asian Studies, specialising in authoritarian governance, social policy, and comparative politics in Southeast Asia.