Border conflict with Cambodia drags Thaksin–Paetongtarn politics into decline
The Thai-Cambodian border clashes have eroded public support for the government, amid growing scrutiny over the Shinawatra–Hun Sen connection. Paetongtarn Shinawatra is seen as central to the controversy, turning the conflict into a major political liability for the Pheu Thai Party.
- The border conflict with Cambodia has severely damaged the political standing of Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, whose public approval rating has plummeted from 30.9% to 9.2%.
- A leaked conversation between Paetongtarn and Cambodian leader Hun Sen, along with speculation over their families' long-standing ties, has fueled public distrust and accusations that their relationship escalated the crisis.
- The conflict has weakened the ruling Pheu Thai Party's legitimacy, with political opponents expected to use the government's perceived diplomatic failures against them in the next election.
- In contrast to the government's declining influence, the Thai military has gained public trust and political capital for its role in defending national sovereignty during the clashes.
The age-old adage that “a nation is not a plaything” now rings truer than ever. Policy missteps—whether born from political naivety or reckless ambition—have led to devastating consequences. The Thai-Cambodian border clashes have inflicted real suffering: civilians killed, homes destroyed, and trust shattered.
Among regional strongmen, Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen's cunning is unmatched, and his recent manoeuvres have dramatically altered the region’s political landscape. The post-conflict scene is expected to be unrecognisable—there will be no return to the status quo.
The political fallout has been particularly stark for Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra. Her bold and unwavering public stance is seen as an attempt to steady her political footing amid mounting public criticism. A leaked clip of her conversation with “Uncle Hun Sen” has been widely cited as the spark that intensified tensions, fuelling distrust in the political establishment.
Speculation abounds regarding the longstanding ties between the Shinawatra and Hun families. Many believe backdoor dealings—possibly tied to transnational interests—remain hidden from public view. Paetongtarn has vigorously defended herself, insisting her actions were made in the national interest and that her words were politically distorted.
She claimed her crackdown on Cambodian-based call-centre scams defrauding Thai citizens may have provoked the ire of Phnom Penh’s elite—more so than any political misstep.
Yet public sentiment appears less forgiving. According to NIDA Poll's second-quarter survey, Paetongtarn’s popularity has plunged from 30.9% in Q1 to just 9.2%—even before the border clashes turned deadly.
As casualties and destruction mount, it's increasingly difficult to argue that the government, and Paetongtarn in particular, has emerged unscathed.
The wounds of war will leave a lasting scar not only on the political establishment—especially the ruling Pheu Thai Party—but also on relations between the peoples of Thailand and Cambodia.
The conflict has exposed a harsh truth: political fragility can directly weaken a nation's foreign policy posture. Criticism has grown over the perceived lack of confidence and clarity from Foreign Minister Maris Sangiamphongsa, whose loyalty to the former prime minister has led some to question whether Thailand is being outmanoeuvred by Cambodia on the global stage.
In contrast, the Thai military has regained political capital. While the government faces declining legitimacy, the armed forces are earning public trust through their defence of national sovereignty. Their performance could bolster future efforts to secure increased military funding, especially for air power and advanced weaponry, now viewed as game-changers in modern warfare.
The military has, once again, demonstrated its competence under pressure. The real test now falls on the civilian government—how will it address a storm of overlapping crises: economic stagnation, US trade pressure, inflation, natural disasters, and now war?
Worse still, the border conflict may be weaponised by political opponents, who accuse the government of carelessly inviting conflict through poor diplomacy. Even if Pheu Thai and Paetongtarn insist Hun Sen acted unilaterally, many are unconvinced. The perception that both political dynasties—Thai and Cambodian—may have played a role in escalating the crisis refuses to go away.
As the next election looms, Pheu Thai faces an uphill battle. Opponents are unlikely to let the memory of war fade quietly from the public consciousness.
