The renewed violence along the Thailand–Cambodia border is a stark reminder that peace agreements are often less decisive than the domestic politics that surround them. Barely weeks after a US-brokered deal was signed on the sidelines of an ASEAN meeting in Malaysia, hostilities resumed on December 7, killing more than 20 people and forcing nearly half a million civilians to flee border regions on both sides. The rapid unravelling of diplomacy has little to do with sudden changes on the ground and far more to do with political calculations in Bangkok and Phnom Penh. Border disputes between the two countries have flared periodically for decades, especially around poorly demarcated stretches near the ancient Preah Vihear temple complex. But what makes this episode particularly troubling is its timing: violence returned not after years of stalemate, but almost immediately after a celebrated peace deal. This suggests that the agreement was never anchored in a durable political consensus, but merely papered over deeper nationalist pressures that neither side was prepared to confront.
In Thailand, Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul’s handling of the crisis reflects the constraints of governing amid fragile legitimacy. Having replaced Paetongtarn Shinawatra after she was criticised for being overly conciliatory toward Cambodia, Anutin inherited an environment charged with nationalist sentiment. He leads a minority government supported by the progressive People’s Party, while simultaneously courting the military and conservative voters ahead of a promised snap election. In such a climate, restraint became politically dangerous. When Anutin publicly acknowledged in November that Thailand, like Cambodia, had encroached on disputed territory, the backlash was swift and humiliating, forcing an apology that reinforced the cost of moderation. From there, his turn toward hardline nationalism was predictable. He floated referendums to suspend earlier bilateral memoranda on border demarcation, accused Cambodia of laying land mines after Thai soldiers were injured, and suspended the peace deal altogether. By authorising the military to use “full force” and publicly aligning himself with wounded soldiers, Anutin revived a powerful Thai narrative that casts the armed forces as the ultimate guarantor of national sovereignty — a narrative that has historically justified military dominance over civilian authority.
These decisions were shaped not just by ideology but by immediate political survival. Anutin’s popularity had taken a hit after his government’s uneven response to severe flooding in Hat Yai, while allegations linking senior officials, including the prime minister, to transnational scam networks threatened to undermine his anti-corruption credentials. The border conflict offered a convenient diversion, shifting public attention from governance failures to patriotic mobilisation. The strategy culminated on December 11, when Anutin dissolved parliament just days into the renewed fighting, pre-empting an expected no-confidence vote linked to disagreements over constitutional reform. Thailand now enters an election cycle under a caretaker government, with weakened civilian oversight and an emboldened military managing an active border conflict. This combination — electoral uncertainty, nationalist rhetoric, and institutional imbalance — sharply reduces incentives for de-escalation. Instead, it rewards toughness and punishes compromise, even as humanitarian and economic costs mount.
Cambodia’s leadership faces parallel, though distinct, pressures. Prime Minister Hun Manet is grappling with slowing economic growth that undermines his developmental agenda, compounded by US tariffs, declining Chinese investment, and mounting reputational damage from the country’s expanding scam-centre economy. Recent US and UK sanctions against Chen Zhi, a prominent figure in the scam industry with close links to Cambodia’s ruling elite, have further weakened Phnom Penh’s anti-corruption narrative and heightened economic anxiety. In this context, renewed border tensions serve a familiar political function: rallying domestic support and deflecting scrutiny from economic and governance challenges. Cambodia has also historically benefited from internationalising its disputes with Thailand. As the smaller and militarily weaker power, it has often relied on legal and diplomatic escalation, with International Court of Justice rulings affirming Cambodian sovereignty around Preah Vihear serving as powerful symbols of legitimacy. Yet this strategy carries risks. Thailand’s political transition and the military’s expanded operational freedom increase the danger of miscalculation, while civilians on both sides bear the brunt of displacement, insecurity and economic disruption. Nationalist mobilisation may deliver short-term political dividends in Bangkok and Phnom Penh, but it entrenches hardliners, weakens institutions, and turns borders into instruments of domestic politics. Until leaders on both sides are willing to absorb political costs at home to prevent violence abroad, peace along the Thailand–Cambodia border will remain fragile — a pause between crises rather than a durable settlement.