While truce is holding, spoilers galore against peace in Thai-Cambodian conflict

Armoured personnel carriers (APC) are seen on a road near Thailand-Cambodia's border in Sisaket province, the day after the leaders of Cambodia and Thailand agreed to a ceasefire, Thailand, July 29, 2025. - REUTERS
IN the aftermath of over a week of heavy exchanges between Thai and Cambodian forces along their disputed border, the ceasefire brokered in Kuala Lumpur still holds—for now.
AI Brief
- A ceasefire brokered in Kuala Lumpur aims to stabilise a conflict that displaced 300,000 people and strained regional peace.
- Military ambition, economic disruption, and nationalist pride risk undermining the truce ahead of the August 4 border summit.
- Long-term peace depends on strong monitoring, institutional safeguards, and restraint from powerful actors, especially Thailand.
The Kuala Lumpur understanding, struck with urgency and sobriety, saw the direct involvement of both countries' Prime Ministers, Foreign Ministers, Defence Ministers, and most crucially, their military commanders.
This high-level convergence is not mere protocol. It is a recognition that the conflict had dangerously spiralled to the brink, displacing some 300,000 people—160,000 from Thailand and 140,000 from Cambodia—and threatening regional stability.
The truce was designed to hold until the General Border Committee meeting scheduled for August 4, where both sides would iron out remaining issues, from demining zones to agreeing on mutually acceptable border patrol protocols. Yet, as the clock ticks toward that summit, signs are emerging that not everyone benefits from peace.
Wars, tragically, create winners among the elite just as they devastate ordinary lives.
Within militaries—especially those that dominate the field—there exist actors who view conflict not just as a matter of national duty, but as a pathway to promotion, prestige, and even pecuniary gain.
In the Thai Cambodian theatre, Thailand possesses overwhelming military superiority. Its air power, surveillance capacity, armoured assets, and fire discipline all far outstrip those of its Cambodian counterpart.
Even in terms of soft power—international legitimacy, institutional coherence, and strategic communication—Thailand holds the advantage.
As Sun Tzu once wrote, supreme excellence lies not in winning every battle, but in subduing the enemy without fighting.
Yet in real-world militaries, especially those in which officers are approaching retirement, the temptation to “leave a mark” is ever-present. Lieutenant General Boonsin Padklang, Thailand’s second-in-command, is due to retire in October 2025.
His exemplary loyalty is not in question, but those jostling to succeed him might see the current ceasefire not as a moment for reflection, but as an opportunity to burnish their credentials. In this sense, the conflict risks being hijacked by those who see promotions in the fog of war.
Such behaviour mirrors the strategy seen in other theatres, particularly in the Middle East. The Israeli military doctrine of “escalate to de-escalate” comes to mind—show overwhelming force first, then negotiate from a position of dominance.
This strategy may well find imitators among Thai commanders who, emboldened by superiority and the perceived weakness of Cambodia’s military, believe a short burst of intensity could deliver longer-term calm.
But it is a dangerous game, especially when it endangers hundreds of thousands of civilians and undermines regional diplomacy.
The economic dimension adds yet another layer. With the shutdown of border crossings—especially around the Poipet area, a crucial zone of casino tourism and illicit economic flows—revenues tied to military-protected activities have dried up.
For those who had benefitted from the economic ecosystem along the border, particularly in grey or black-market dealings, the war has frozen their income.
Such groups may exert pressure to reignite tensions, either to force reopening or to create a new equilibrium where their interests are protected under the guise of “security necessity.”
Meanwhile, the Cambodian military is trapped in its own loop of pride and political expectation.
For all of Thailand’s firepower, Cambodian troops cannot appear weak or submissive. Prime Minister Hun Manet is a West Point graduate. His father, Hun Sen, now President of the Cambodian Senate, is a battle-hardened former soldier. Between them, they command strong loyalties within the armed forces.
Any sign of perceived Thai overreach—whether real or manufactured—risks triggering a Cambodian response out of sheer necessity to project national pride and military resolve. The spiral of action and reaction looms dangerously over the ceasefire.
It is in this context that ceasefire monitors must do more than just observe violations.
They must anticipate and pre-empt spoilers who thrive in the grey zones between war and peace. Whether it is rogue units acting without orders or commanders taking matters into their own hands to test the limits of the truce, every movement along the border must be scrutinized.
A truce is a political agreement, but its survival depends on the integrity of those entrusted to uphold it—and, more crucially, those who are tempted to violate it for personal or institutional gain.
That is why the August 4 meeting of the General Border Committee must not merely reaffirm the ceasefire but institutionalize mechanisms to constrain spoilers.
These include real-time communication hotlines between field commanders, satellite tracking of military movements, third-party mediation (potentially from neutral ASEAN members), and agreed transparency over troop withdrawals or redeployments. Without these, even the best diplomacy from Kuala Lumpur cannot anchor lasting peace.
Thailand must also reflect deeply on its posture. With its military strength comes responsibility.
True deterrence is not in crushing a weaker adversary, but in using that superiority to stabilize, not destabilize. The Thai leadership—civilian and military—must hold the line against hawks who believe this is the moment to enforce unilateral conditions or test Cambodian red lines.
Doing so risks plunging ASEAN into a prolonged confrontation and damages Bangkok’s image as a mature regional player.
The displaced populations—now living in camps, without access to proper sanitation, food, and education—care little for grandstanding or the theatre of military might.
They want to go home. They want a future. The military on both sides, especially the more powerful Thai forces, must now serve that future, not their own institutional ambitions.
For Cambodia, maintaining national dignity while adhering to the ceasefire is a tightrope walk. But the onus to preserve peace now rests more heavily on the side with more power. This is not just the dictate of realism, but of wisdom.
The longer peace holds, the more difficult it becomes for spoilers to justify renewed escalation. The August 4 meeting must not be a mere formality. It must lock in what the ceasefire has unlocked—a rare window for lasting calm.
In a region still haunted by the ghosts of historical grievances, this is not just a ceasefire. It is a chance to prove that ASEAN, and the leaders within it, can stand above their own militaries when peace is on the line.
Phar Kim Beng, PhD, is Professor of ASEAN Studies and Director of the Institute of Internationaliation and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS) at the International Islamic University Malaysia.
Luthfy Hamzah is Senior Research Fellow at IINTAS and a specialist in trade, political economy, and strategic diplomacy in Northeast Asia.
** The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of Astro AWANI.
Must-Watch Video
Stay updated with our news


