July 31, 2025
SURIN – The mood among the men at a makeshift bomb shelter along the battle-scarred border between Thailand and Cambodia is decidedly brighter – buoyed by the possibility of light at the end of the tunnel and being reunited with family.
Since the outbreak of fighting on July 24, the few dozen male villagers who have stayed behind to tend to their cattle and guard their village in the border hot spot of Phanom Dong Rak district in Thailand’s Surin province have slept rough in their improvised bunker comprising segments of large concrete stormwater pipes, buttressed with rice sacks filled with sand.
The confined space means the men are unable to stretch out fully to sleep, instead contorting and slouching against the harsh curves of the bunker “walls”. Small portable fans do little to defray the stifling heat and dispel bloodthirsty mosquitoes at night.
The villagers told The Straits Times there had been a respite from heavy shelling in their area since the ceasefire took effect at midnight on July 29, but that some gunfire from nearby battlegrounds could still be heard. Thailand’s army has blamed Cambodia for exchanges of gunfire on both days since the ceasefire began, which Phnom Penh has denied.
And after five days of fighting killed at least 43 people and displaced more than 300,000 civilians from both countries, the distrust from residents directed across both sides of the border was evident. While hopeful that it would translate into lasting peace, most villagers expressed concern over whether the opposing side would violate the ceasefire and delay the ability of their families to return home.
“We were very happy to learn about the ceasefire, we all want the conflict to end,” retired soldier Ve Sanorsiang said in Phanom Dong Rak. “But it won’t end easily because the other side is very dishonest and cannot be trusted.”
Rubber farmer Natthapong Songsaengchan, 46, added: “We hear the Cambodian side still hasn’t pulled the army back and still has more reinforcements in the area.”
Tensions between the two South-east Asian neighbours had been boiling for months over the century-old border dispute before leading to the latest and most serious flare-up to date.
The heightened nationalism and discord between the respective communities across the border is particularly jarring, given the long-shared ethnic and cultural identity that predates the drawing of modern-day national borders.
Most of the residents in the Thai border villages in Surin are of Northern Khmer origin, also known as Khmer Surin. The majority of older locals consider their local Khmer dialect, which is distinct from what is spoken in Phnom Penh, to be their first language, though the influence of the Thai language education system has seen this wane among subsequent generations.
Mr Ve, the 78-year-old veteran, is one of many of Northern Khmer descent. He has been around long enough to have fought an encroaching Khmer Rouge in the 1980s, while also brandishing battle scars on his calf that he said were from a land mine while fighting communist guerillas.
“If Cambodian people look at me, they wouldn’t be able to tell I’m from Thailand,” he said.
Mr Ve said border flare-ups had also become part of the shared history between the two communities. While relationships would eventually bounce back to normal, during conflicts, even relatives or close friends would tend to behave “like strangers”.
“There is no friendship in war,” he added.
While most residents are adhering to the Thai government’s directives urging evacuees to remain in emergency shelters until further notice, local media reported that some evacuees had begun to return, including in Buriram, a neighbouring province to Surin’s west, worried about their properties and the need to earn an income.
Across the border in Cambodia’s Oddar Meanchey province, vegetable vendor and mother of four Tim Daly was forced to evacuate from Osmach village to an emergency shelter in Cambodia in Samroang district about 60km away.
“I’m hoping that the ceasefire will bring peace for my family, and other families as well,” Ms Daly told ST. “I want to go home and restart my business as soon as possible because I need to repay my bank loan, but I still feel uncomfortable about whether the Thais will continue to drop rockets into my village. I’m still scared about that.”
Ms Chhoy Sarieng, 55, whose husband is a soldier deployed to the front line at the disputed Ta Moan Thom temple area, expressed similar sentiments while also worrying about potential damage to her home.
“If my rice field was destroyed by the Thai military, how can I survive or feed my children in the future?” she said.
Thailand’s accusations – and Cambodia’s denials – that Cambodian troops have violated the ceasefire highlight the uncertain and fragile nature of the truce brokered in Malaysia.
“Cambodian forces used small arms and grenade launchers, prompting Thailand to respond in self-defence,” Thai army spokesman Winthai Suvaree told reporters on July 30.
“This was the second incident since the agreement, and reflects a behaviour that does not respect agreements, destroys de-escalation efforts and hampers trust between the two countries.”
Cambodia rejected the allegations, saying it was committed to the ceasefire, and called for a monitoring mechanism with independent observers.
“Cambodia strongly rejects the ceasefire accusations as false, misleading and harmful to the fragile trust-building process,” Cambodian Foreign Ministry spokesman Chum Sounry said.
Ms Susannah Patton, director of the South-east Asia Programme at the Lowy Institute, a Sydney think-tank, said it was unclear whether the ceasefire would hold, given that domestic political dynamics in both countries will heavily favour politicians who are uncompromising in their approach to this conflict.
“Having international mediation led by Malaysia gave both countries an off-ramp that they would not otherwise have had, but I’m not convinced that it has achieved a durable settlement that will be long-lasting.”
Additional reporting by Yuthana Kim and Pratch Rujivaranom