BANGKOK, THAILAND – A bloody 2025 border war between Thailand and Cambodia was driven less by a family feud than by clashing histories and hardening stereotypes, according to a newly updated analysis.
More than a family feud
For months, regional debate focused on the role of the powerful Shinawatra clan in Thailand and the Hun family in Cambodia in triggering the 2025 fighting. Commentators tied the war to a leaked phone call between Senate president Hun Sen and Thai Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, and even to Cambodian call-centre scams and casinos.
The article argued that far too much was attributed to these two influential but “egocentric” families. It stressed that the conflict ultimately spread far beyond elite rivalries and deeply affected ordinary people in both countries.
The war claimed more than one hundred lives, including Cambodian and Thai soldiers as well as civilians on both sides of the border. The first outbreak in July 2025 lasted five days, leaving at least 48 dead and around 300,000 displaced before a ceasefire brokered by Malaysia and the United States halted the initial escalation.
Peace did not hold. In December 2025 the fighting resumed with greater intensity, as Thai fighter jets bombed Cambodian positions and rocket launchers struck residential areas. More than half a million people fled for a second time before both defence ministers signed a new truce on 27 December 2025.
The text said the depth of mutual hatred, rooted in selective teaching of history and entrenched stereotypes, ensured the conflict quickly extended beyond a dispute between two families. The author argued that many Thais and Cambodians might not have embraced ultranationalism without two driving forces: competing versions of shared history and decades of mutual caricature.
The Thai perspective
The writer, identifying as Thai, began with the Thai side of the story. According to the commentary, three key labels shape how many ultranationalist Thais view Cambodia and Cambodians: unreliable, ungrateful and imitators.
Many Thai ultranationalists, the article said, fully distrust Cambodians because they believe a nationalist narrative about the King of Lovek betraying King Naresuan of Ayutthaya. In this account, Cambodia turned on Ayutthaya despite an alliance, striking from the east while Ayutthaya was fighting Burmese invaders to the west.
The Thai king is said to have emerged victorious by launching a punitive expedition in 1594 against Lovek, then Cambodia’s capital, and conquering the city. King Naresuan reportedly ordered the beheading of the Lovek ruler in a humiliating ritual and washed his feet with the dead king’s blood as revenge for repeated Cambodian “incursions”, feet being considered the lowest body part in both societies.
This bitter episode, taught to Thai schoolchildren, has left a deep imprint, the article noted. Weeks before the first clashes in mid‑2025, ultranationalist protest leader Sondhi Limthongkul claimed that Hun Sen and Cambodians shared the same DNA as the “treacherous” king of Lovek and were therefore fundamentally untrustworthy.
At the height of the December campaign, some Thai ultranationalists openly urged the armed forces to seize Phnom Penh instead of accepting a ceasefire. The analysis framed such calls as the product of a long-conditioned mindset, not just immediate political tensions.
The Cambodian version of the past
The article stressed that Cambodian teaching presents a very different version of the same events. In the Cambodian account, it is the Thai king who failed to show sufficient respect to his Cambodian counterpart, did not treat him as an equal and behaved as the main aggressor.
According to this narrative, Siamese troops destroyed Lovek, plundered the city and carried off valuable statues and occult knowledge. From this perspective, it was Thailand that betrayed Cambodia and razed its capital, forcing Cambodians to move further east to escape future Thai attacks.
The author described as tragic the way both nations rely on selective readings of an episode more than four centuries old to shape their image of each other. School history, the piece argued, has been used as a nation‑building tool to promote national interests, forge unity and entrench ultranationalist ideology serving the ruling classes.
In this view, history lessons have become political instruments, reinforcing polarised memories and inflaming present‑day attitudes on both sides of the border.
“Ungrateful” refugees and cultural appropriation
The analysis then turned to another entrenched Thai stereotype: the belief among some ultranationalists that Cambodians are ungrateful. According to the text, this notion resurfaced sharply during the 2025 conflict and draws on selective memories of the late 1970s.
At that time, refugee camps sprang up along the border, receiving Cambodians fleeing Vietnam’s 1978 invasion. At the peak in 1980, up to 160,000 Cambodian refugees reportedly found shelter there, while many well‑educated young Thais worked for international NGOs in the camps.
The article noted that Cambodian commentators highlight a different side of this history. They stress that the camps were largely funded by the United Nations, the International Committee of the Red Cross and other organisations, while Thailand mainly provided land and security.
According to this view, Thailand used the camps as a strategic buffer to keep military clashes between Cambodia and Vietnam away from its own territory. The analysis suggested that each side emphasises the elements that fit its preferred self‑image.
Another widespread perception among many Thais, the article said, is that Cambodians copy and “shamelessly” claim Thai cultural elements as their own. This covers architecture, traditional clothing, the Songkran New Year festival and even Muay Thai, the Thai national sport. Some Thais mock Cambodia as “Claimbodia” for allegedly staking false cultural claims.
Cambodians, the text added, see matters in reverse. Many believe Thais appropriated their culture, arguing that key parts of Thai culture originate from the Khmer Empire, particularly after Ayutthaya captured Lovek. They sometimes deride Thailand as “LieLand” and use the expression “Don’t Thai me”, meaning “Don’t lie to me”.
Kun Khmer vs Muay Thai
The long‑running dispute over which nation copied whose martial art re‑ignited during the 2025 tensions. Shortly after the first ceasefire in July, Brazilian‑born boxer Thiago Teixeira, a Cambodian citizen and advocate of the traditional “Kun Khmer” style, weighed in via Facebook.
He recalled that Cambodia had renamed its national kickboxing style to “Kun Khmer” in 2023, a move that angered many in Thailand. Nationalists there labelled the change theft and insisted Muay Thai came first and Cambodia was merely copying.
Teixeira urged both sides to look at the deeper history of the sport. In his translated post he wrote:
“In 2023, Cambodia renamed its national kickboxing style to ‘Kun Khmer’.
Thailand was not pleased.
Nationalists called it theft.
Muay Thai came first, they said. Cambodia was just copying.
But let’s pause for a moment.
At Angkor Wat, there are centuries‑old reliefs showing boxers in a clinch – long before the word ‘Muay Thai’ existed.
Both traditions share techniques, rituals, even spiritual elements.
The truth? These martial arts do not come from just one country.
They developed together – across borders, through wars, through migration.
Thailand turned Muay Thai into a global brand.
Cambodia, scarred by war, is trying to reclaim its cultural roots.
It is not about who was first.
It is about recognising that pride does not have to erase origins.
In 2024, the two countries quietly agreed:
Kun Khmer and Muay Thai will be recognised as separate disciplines.
No competition needed. Both can grow.
But online, the war continued.
Videos, memes, insults – millions of clicks.
Culture once again became a battlefield.”
said Thiago Teixeira, a Cambodian citizen and Kun Khmer advocate.
The article used his comments to illustrate how even a niche sporting issue became entangled with nationalism. While governments reportedly reached a quiet understanding in 2024, the cultural conflict raged on in digital spaces.
AI reads Cambodian schoolbooks
To explore how Cambodians learn about Thailand, the author turned not to human contacts but to an artificial intelligence system. The rationale was that such a system would be less steeped in the nationalism that swept millions of Thais and Cambodians in 2025.
Within seconds, the AI model Gemini produced a summary of how Cambodian textbooks describe relations with Thailand, which the article reproduced in full. According to that response, the books generally portray the relationship as complex and often conflict‑ridden.
The AI listed several central themes in Cambodian teaching:
“Cambodian history textbooks generally present the relationship with Thailand as complex and often marked by conflict. Key themes include:
Decline of the Khmer Empire: Textbooks link the gradual decline of the Angkor Empire to the rise of neighbouring peoples – such as the founding of the Sukhothai Kingdom as a breakaway from the Khmer Empire – as well as the conquest of Angkor Thom by Ayutthaya in 1431, which pushed the capital southwards.
Territorial loss and sovereignty: A central theme is the gradual erasure of Cambodian territories by more powerful neighbours such as Siam and Vietnam. Cambodia effectively became a vassal state – a loss that still shapes national identity today.
Colonial era and its aftermath: French protection is presented as necessary to prevent Cambodia’s complete annexation. The dispute over the Preah Vihear temple is central here. The occupation by Thailand after France’s withdrawal and the 1962 ruling by the International Court of Justice are discussed in detail.
Cultural appropriation and national identity: The relationship is also framed as a cultural competition. Textbooks emphasise the Khmer origins of Thai culture and criticise what is seen as Thai appropriation. This fosters a strong protective instinct toward Cambodia’s own heritage.”
said Gemini, an artificial intelligence model cited by the author.
The inclusion of the AI’s response underscored how formal education in Cambodia, like in Thailand, highlights loss, threats to sovereignty and cultural rivalry. The article suggested that these narratives feed a defensive national identity and reinforce suspicion toward Thailand.
Two peoples, one history, two ceasefires
Drawing the threads together, the analysis argued that many Thais and Cambodians are shaped by selective memory and enemy images. As a result, the 2025 conflict was far more than a tactical power play involving Hun Sen, Hun Manet and the Shinawatra family.
The war flared twice and twice killed people who had nothing to do with elite quarrels. While the second ceasefire on 27 December 2025 silenced the guns, the commentary warned that minds had not yet been disarmed.
The author stressed that history is always selective and often biased, and that what societies remember depends on who they are. This, the piece argued, cannot justify hatred or war.
The conclusion urged Thais and Cambodians to recognise that the real flashpoint lies not in two political dynasties but in collectively taught mistrust. Despite sharing much in common, the two neighbours have looked down on each other, refused to trust and learned to despise.
The article closed with a call to move beyond merely retelling competing histories and to begin understanding them together. It noted that all evaluative judgments in the text were those of Pravit Rojanaphruk, whose original English‑language column was published by KhaoSod English and later updated in April 2026 to reflect the December escalation and second ceasefire.