By Pravit Rojanaphruk and Leang Delux
Thailand’s new Prime Minister, Anutin Charnvirakul, might have seemed to side with the ultranationalists when, on October 3, he declared: “Whoever wants to open the border crossing, raise your hand.” Only to conclude after the absence of raised hands by saying that, “You’ll get beaten up and die!” But in Thai politics, little is ever as straightforward as it appears.
Behind the blunt warning lies a message aimed not at neighbors, but possibly at the ultranationalists whose narrow rhetoric has kept Thailand and Cambodia locked in a cycle of hostility. His statement, stripped of its surface heat, can in fact be read as a rebuke — an appeal for reason amid rising extremism that threatens to blind many to the true costs of conflict that is mounting on both Thailand and Cambodia.
How long, he seemed to indicate behind the rhetoric, can Thailand afford to endure the long-term harm this standoff inflicts on its cross-border economy, on the fragile fabric of Thai–Cambodian relations, and on ASEAN’s credibility as a force for regional stability?
Across the border that same day, Cambodia’s Deputy Prime Minister Hun Many offered words of humility and hope. “We have been hurt. We have been shamed. But we need to move forward to start reconciliation, and to move forward with coexistence for the benefit of future generations,” he said.
It was a message not of surrender, but of moral courage — a call to rise above humiliation and restore dignity through dialogue.
The sense of urgency behind these appeals is impossible to overstate. On July 24, 2025, Thailand and Cambodia plunged into open conflict over their long-disputed frontier. For five harrowing days, the two sides exchanged gunfire and airstrikes — the deadliest clashes in more than a decade. By July 28, under the mediation of Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, as ASEAN chair, and with support from the United States and China, both countries signed a ceasefire in Kuala Lumpur, halting the bloodshed.
An Artery of Life Becomes a Ghost Town
But peace on paper has not yet reached the people living along the border. The ceasefire is still fragile and border checkpoints remain closed for about three months now.
The guns may have fallen silent, but the closure of the border has inflicted its own quiet devastation. In places like Ban Khlong Luek Border Market, once a symbol of cross-border harmony and trade, the stalls stand empty. Thai fruit vendors who once sold mangosteens and durians to Cambodian traders now sit behind unsold baskets. On the Cambodian side, women who crossed daily to buy rice and cooking oil find themselves stranded, their family savings evaporating with each passing day.
This market — an artery of life that fed both economies — has become a ghost town. Families who once earned just enough to send their children to school are now trapped in a cycle of debt and hunger.
Mothers have begun pawning jewelry to buy food; some have sent their children to distant relatives to escape the uncertainty. These are not isolated tragedies. They are the unseen casualties of a political dispute that has closed not just gates, but futures for many in both nations, particularly those living and working along the border.
The closure has hit women and children hardest. In border communities from Sa Kaeo to Banteay Meanchey, it is women who form the backbone of trade. They are the stall owners, the carriers, the currency exchangers, the ones who make daily cross-border journeys to keep families afloat.
With the crossings sealed, their work — often informal, unprotected, and already precarious — has vanished. Without income, some have been forced to turn to unsafe or exploitative labor, while children, pulled from schools, now help their families search for food instead of learning in classrooms.
Such suffering cannot be measured by GDP loss or trade statistics from multilateral agencies. It is measured in the hunger pangs of children, in the silence of once-bustling markets, and in the anxiety of families separated by checkpoints that should never have become barriers to begin with. When national policies artificially sever human connections, both countries lose far more than trade; they lose trust.
An Opportunity to Change Course
As the 47th ASEAN Summit in Kuala Lumpur approaches on October 26, both Bangkok and Phnom Penh have an opportunity — and a responsibility — to change course. The ceasefire of July 28 was only the first step; reconciliation requires something deeper: the will to rebuild not just diplomatic relations, but the human relationships that conflict has torn apart.
The most immediate and symbolic step would be to reopen the border crossings, beginning with Ban Khlong Luek and its Cambodian counterpart at Poipet. A phased reopening under joint security management and ASEAN observation would allow traders to return safely and restore a vital flow of goods, people, and hope.
Reopening the gates would do more than revive the local economy — it would tell border communities that their lives matter, that their struggles have been seen, and that peace has a tangible presence in their daily existence.
Thailand could reinforce this spirit of goodwill by releasing the 18 Cambodian soldiers still held in Thai custody since the July clashes. Their return would carry immense symbolic weight, a gesture that affirms humanity over hostility. Cambodia, in turn, could recommit to maintaining the ceasefire and addressing border security concerns through structured dialogue. These are small but meaningful acts that could reopen a path to mutual trust.
To ensure peace holds, the two countries should also establish regular communication mechanisms between their military commands and local authorities. The ceasefire agreement brokered by Malaysia offers a starting point. Expanding it into a broader confidence-building framework — with ASEAN observers facilitating dialogue and early-warning systems to forestall disputes — would help prevent future escalation.
At the same time, ASEAN itself must step into its role as a mediator and guarantor of regional peace. The Thai–Cambodian conflict has tested the bloc’s principle of centrality — the idea that ASEAN should lead in managing its own affairs.
A successful reconciliation would reaffirm this principle at a time when geopolitical rivalries are increasingly shaping Southeast Asia’s fate. The Summit in Kuala Lumpur must therefore serve not only as a forum for diplomacy but as a moment of collective resolve — to prove that ASEAN unity is built not on slogans, but on action.
But while the language of diplomacy is necessary, it is the language of empathy that must guide reconciliation. Peace will only endure when people on both sides begin to see each other not as enemies but as neighbors bound by shared hopes, struggles and future.
Real peace will come when Thais and Cambodians themselves reclaim what politics has taken from them — their trust in one another. It will take humility to listen to old grievances, courage to forgive, and patience to begin again. But these are qualities the people already possess, proven in the quiet resilience with which they have endured hardship and loss.
Borders and politics may divide nations, but they cannot divide shared humanity. When ordinary people on both sides choose empathy over anger and compassion over pride, they become the true architects of reconciliation — showing that peace is not dictated from above, but grown from the ground up.
Cultural and educational exchanges, cross-border youth dialogues, and joint tourism initiatives can help heal these wounds — not irresponsible ultranationalist ranting of social media that triggered our basest of emotions. Shared efforts to protect the environment along the Dangrek Mountains and the Mekong River could transform zones of past conflict into symbols of cooperation.
A joint Thai–Cambodian peace park or cross-border heritage route instead of disputed border filled with landmines, for example, would not only attract visitors but also remind both peoples of their intertwined history — a story older and stronger than any modern dispute.
The border demarcation process, long a source of tension, should also return to the diplomatic table. With transparency, international legal guidance, and goodwill, both sides can reach fair and lasting agreements that remove ambiguity. The goal should not be to redraw maps, but to redraw mindsets — to see the border not as a wall, but as a bridge.
Those who have not been consumed by ultranationalist fervor must refuse to let their country be dragged further into the abyss of extremism. This joint article is a small step toward building bridges across the border—but many more Thais and Cambodians must join in that effort.
Better to Have a Friend Next Door Than an Enemy
Let us not only ask what is wrong with the other country, but also reflect on how our own nations have failed—both ourselves and our neighbors—in resolving conflict with calm minds and peaceful intent. We must resist the easy assumption that our side is always right.
We are neighbors, not enemies. It is far better for the people of both nations to have a friend next door than an enemy cursing us across the fence. The longer we allow relations between our two countries to spiral into mutual hatred, the harder it will be to heal old wounds, rebuild trust, and restore genuine peace.
As we write these words, short-sighted ultranationalists on both sides are flooding social media with hateful posts, as if competing to see who can display the greatest cruelty—mocking others’ misfortunes and stripping away their humanity. It has become a race to the bottom, a contest in who can lose more decency and compassion.
Those who have not yet succumbed to the fever of ultranationalism face a choice: either remain silent as Thais and Cambodians alike drag both our nations further into bitterness, or speak out—to say clearly that these voices of hate do not represent us, and that we reject their base instincts.
Peace is never born from victory; it is born from understanding. The events of July 2025 left wounds that cannot be healed by pride, prejudice or blame. But they also opened a door — one that both nations can walk through together if they choose dialogue over division.
At the ASEAN Summit in Kuala Lumpur, Thailand and Cambodia can transform that door into a gateway for a new beginning: reopening border crossings, restoring trade, reuniting families, and reaffirming that the strength of nations lies not in their weapons, but in their willingness to make peace and coexist in harmony.
The border may divide two countries, but peace — once rebuilt — can unite an entire region.
Pravit Rojanaphruk is senior writer at the Bangkok-based Khaosod English News. Leang Delux is news publisher at the Phnom Penh-based Thmey Thmey Media.
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