Thai army personnel at Surin province bordering Cambodia in October. - FB
PHNOM PENH: In times of border tensions between Thailand and Cambodia, nationalism grows loud. Flags rise, speeches are made and soldiers are sent to the front lines. Behind this noise lies a quiet truth, rarely discussed in Bangkok but deeply felt in Surin, Sisaket and Buriram.
Many soldiers from these provinces come from Khmer-speaking families. They share language, ancestry, cultural memory and Khmer blood with the people across the border. Borders may divide states, but they do not erase history or family ties. These young men are asked to fight people who share their Khmer blood, or who could be relatives or neighbours.
This is not a question of loyalty. Soldiers from Surin, Sisaket and Buriram serve faithfully. They wear the same uniform, follow the same orders and face the same dangers as soldiers from Bangkok. Yet when they fall, the difference is clear.
When a soldier from the capital dies, the nation watches. Military planes, official ceremonies and media coverage honour the return. The death becomes a national symbol.
When a soldier from Surin, Sisaket or Buriram dies, mourning is quiet. Families grieve in villages. Funerals are modest. Recognition is limited. The sacrifice is real, but the acknowledgment is not equal.
Rural soldiers are often drawn into service by necessity, not ideology. Poverty and limited opportunity make enlistment one of the few stable paths. When conflict comes, these communities bear the cost first, sent to the front lines but left on the margins of national memory.
History shows ordinary people rarely drive conflicts. Political agendas and nationalist narratives shape the battle. Villagers and farmers’ sons pay the highest price.
We must ask: who benefits when Khmer fight Khmer? Not families. Not young men who never return. Political agendas gain, ordinary people lose.
Calling for reflection is not betrayal. Asking for equal dignity is not disloyalty. Recognising shared humanity across borders strengthens the nation. Thailand is diverse. Its strength lies in respecting that diversity. If the state demands sacrifice from all, it must honour all equally, regardless of province, language or ethnicity.
No soldier should be treated as expendable, and no community’s grief should be invisible. Before asking young men from Surin, Sisaket and Buriram to give their lives, the nation must prove that their lives, and their deaths matter just as much as any other.
These soldiers should pause and reflect before being used to serve Bangkok’s political agendas. They must not be drawn into conflicts that benefit only Bangkok’s power, wealth or ambition, and risk losing themselves in someone else’s strategy.
*** Neang Sopheap is a Phnom Penh-based analyst. The views and opinions expressed are his own
