Did Thailand Just Hand Cambodia a Legal Windfall?

UN Security Council Meeting in New York (file photo)

 

Don Pathan

www.stratsea.com 

Battle in New York

Almost immediately after the bloody cross-border clashes erupted along the Thailand-Cambodia border on 24 July 2025, Prime Minister Hun Manet reached out to the United Nations Security Council (UNSC) requesting an emergency meeting to discuss what he called “unprovoked and premeditated aggression” by the Thai military.

More than 100,000 villagers on both sides of the border were abruptly displaced on the first of four bloody days of cross-border clashes.

Just the first day alone, Cambodia’s BM-21 Grad rockets smashed into a Thai public school and a 7-Eleven convenience store in Sisaket; a hospital in Surin Province was also hit. The multiple rocket launcher system (MRLS) used by Cambodia is an inherently imprecise, unguided weapon system.

Cambodia denied deliberately targeting civilians, arguing that any civilian infrastructure caught in the crossfire was either a result of proximity to the conflict zone or unavoidable collateral damage during a heavy artillery exchange.   

Nevertheless, on the following day in New York, members of the UNSC at the emergency meeting did not share Phnom Penh’s framing, said one official whose government was observing the discussion. He spoke on condition of anonymity. 

Cambodia’s position was undermined – fairly or unfairly – by the shelling of the Thai hospital and other soft targets, such as the public school and convenience store. Regardless of the facts, that episode loomed large in the minds of many in New York, the official said.

Cambodia asked that the UNSC refer the border dispute to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) for final adjudication, but the council rejected the request.

However, it was not only collateral damage that influenced the UNSC decision; credit must also be given to the Thai team, said the official. 

“The quality of the delegation matters a lot at critical times like this. It was observed by a number of countries that Thailand’s more polished and better-staffed delegation made a difference at the UNSC meeting. The Thais were sophisticated and technical in their messaging, citing the Geneva Conventions and the breach of anti-mine and anti-cluster munitions obligations. They looked like the good guys despite being the ones who kept insisting on handling this bilaterally,” the official said.

As in any dispute, the issue of credibility becomes central when there is no impartial third party available to ascertain the facts. In such circumstances, the outcome often depends on the parties’ ability to articulate and present their arguments effectively. This raises a legitimate question regarding the existence of objective truth within such contexts.

Thailand may have walked out of the New York meeting as the victor over this one specific battle with Cambodia, as Bangkok can claim credit for dissuading the UNSC from forwarding the case to the ICJ. But Thailand is not out of the woods; the Royal Thai Army’s optics are not at all great, the Bangkok-based diplomats said.

Furthermore, members of the international community are still asking: why is it Cambodia that keeps asking for observers? By demanding outside observers, Cambodia is sending a clever, indirect message to the world: that Thailand cannot be trusted to act fairly or tell the truth on its own.

Losing Optical War 

And then came the photo ops. In October 2025, a ceasefire was brokered by the Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim and the United States President Donald Trump, who dropped by to witness the signing of an expanded peace agreement between the two countries. Days later, Thailand suspended the implementation of the ceasefire pact, following a landmine blast that maimed one of its soldiers.

The 22 December meeting was supposed to be more substantial as the two foreign ministers met face-to-face in Kuala Lumpur. The event, aimed at de-escalation and enforcing a sustainable ceasefire, was facilitated by Malaysia, the ASEAN chair for 2025.

The situation on the ground leading to the 22 December ministerial meeting was not very promising, as Thailand and Cambodia traded blame for border clashes that killed one Thai soldier and four Cambodian civilians earlier that month. The border clashes were followed by a Thai air raid.

For the 22 December meeting, Cambodia wanted the observers – China and the United States – to be there on all three days. But Thailand restricted the observers to the plenary session, making Bangkok look like the one determined to complicate the whole thing.

Needless to say, the restrictions, along with Thailand’s long-standing position that the dispute be resolved bilaterally, cast a negative light on Thailand, while Cambodia comes across as the aggrieved party precisely because it pushes for foreign observers, which carries the subtext that they are needed to keep Thailand honest.

All along, both sides believe they occupy the moral high ground, clinging to their own narratives with equal conviction.

Nationalist Blunder

By the time Thailand conducted its February 2026 general election, border tensions had strengthened military political influence, making national security – the war with Cambodia – the main public topic to the point that a medium-sized political party, Bhumjaithai, known for its pro-cannabis legislation, secured a comfortable mandate to lead the country.

Anutin Charnvirakul was the accidental prime minister at the time. His sudden rise to the premiership in September 2025 was the direct byproduct of political crises rather than a popular electoral mandate for him to lead the country.

Bhumjaithai rode on the back of public sentiment and vowed to terminate the 2001 Memorandum of Understanding (MoU 44), which had governed maritime boundary talks for over two decades.

For a country that had insisted all along on bilateral mechanisms to resolve the dispute, terminating the document that was aimed to do just that does not help Thailand’s international standing very much. This shows how Bangkok’s diplomacy has become entangled with politics influenced by toxic nationalism.

Thailand’s official excuse was that MoU 44 had been in place for more than two decades without producing results. Left unsaid was the lack of political will – and the infighting among political factions, including street battles – that held border resolution, among so much else, hostage.

If anything, the move played into Cambodia’s hands. On 2 June 2026, Phnom Penh officially triggered “Compulsory Conciliation” under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS) to break the maritime deadlock with Thailand.

This sudden shift transforms their resource competition over a US$300 billion overlapping claims area (OCA) from an active military risk into an institutional, legal battle overseen by the UN.

US$300b Energy Trap

Hun Manet announced that because bilateral channels had been exhausted, Cambodia had no choice but to take this step to “protect its sovereignty and maritime rights” under international law.

Cambodia’s energy ministry also noted that the global oil shocks from the ongoing Iran conflict have made unlocking the OCA’s estimated 12 trillion cubic feet of natural gas a matter of immediate economic survival.

Trying to put on a brave face, Anutin said Thailand is “unfazed” and confident in its legal position. He said nothing about how the termination of MoU 44 had played right into Cambodia’s hands.

Article 298 of UNCLOS is applied in situations where “no agreement has been reached in negotiations between the parties within a reasonable period of time.” Twenty-five years is a very long time by any standard.

Under UNCLOS, the process relies on an independent panel rather than a binding courtroom. The commission will review the dispute and issue a non-binding report with recommendations. Neither country is legally forced to accept the terms, but it creates a heavy international diplomatic framework for them to work within.

Thailand is insisting that the UN framework focus strictly on drawing the physical boundary line and not serve as an attempt to settle joint resource development and revenue sharing.

Thailand’s habit of kicking the can down the road is evident across many other issues. The peace process in the far South has never progressed beyond confidence-building exercises to anything concrete. Meanwhile, scores of Uyghur asylum seekers were held in immigration detention for nearly a decade before Thaksin Shinawatra used them as political pawns with Beijing to bolster his daughter’s standing with China.

Consequently, the more Thailand emphasises that the MoU 44 produced no progress over a quarter of a century, the more it strengthens Cambodia’s justification for seeking compulsory conciliation in the first place.

It is therefore difficult to see the logic of repeatedly stressing the failure of 25 years of negotiations while simultaneously criticising Cambodia for turning to a dispute-settlement mechanism designed precisely for situations where prolonged negotiations have failed to produce an agreement. Both Thailand and Cambodia are signatories to this convention.

Ever since the Preah Vihear temple dispute of 2008-2011, Cambodia has tried to bring ASEAN and the UNSC in as mediators. When negotiations failed and nationalist sentiments on both sides intensified, Cambodia brought the case back to the ICJ for reinterpretation of its earlier ruling, which resulted in Thailand having to retreat from the vicinity of the temple.

Had the nationalist faction and the Democrat-led government stopped trying to strip Preah Vihear of its World Heritage status, Cambodia might not have been able to bring the case back to the ICJ at all.

But that is what happens when a government fails to think things through and when bureaucrats lack the courage to disagree with the political leaders.

 

Don Pathan is a security analyst focusing on conflict in Myanmar/Burma and insurgency in Thailand’s far south.

The views expressed are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of STRAT.O.SPHERE CONSULTING PTE LTD.  

This article is published under a Creative Commons Licence. Republications minimally require: 1) credit authors and their institutions, and; 2) credit to STRAT.O.SPHERE CONSULTING PTE LTD and include a link back to either our home page or the article’s URL.

Peace talks for Thailand’s Deep South resume

Thai soldiers observing Melayu school children in the far South (Credit: Chaiwat Pumpuang)

By Don Pathan
www.prachatai.com 

Formal peace talks between the Thai government and the Barisan Revolusi Nasional Melayu Patani (BRN) will resume in June 2026. This comes despite a recent spike in violence in the far South, which the insurgents are using to demand deeper political discussions to address their demands for “self-government”. 

Analysts anticipate an increase in targeted attacks, rather than the typical drive-by shootings or roadside improvised explosive devices (IEDs), as insurgents escalate their use of political violence to communicate their objectives.

Thailand-BRN official meeting, Round 8, Dec. 9-10, 2025

Headline statistics offer a misleading sense of progress. While overall incident counts have dropped sharply — from around 1,400 in 2007 to roughly 150 in 2025 — the first four months of 2026 saw a marked surge in violence, particularly after the 11 January petrol station attacks. 

Much of the statistical decline reflects an expanded security footprint — Paramilitary Rangers deployed across remote areas have dramatically cut response times, rather than any political breakthrough. Analysts note that insurgents have adapted by maximizing impact over frequency. The era of roadside IEDs that barely registered in Bangkok is over. Today’s attacks are engineered for visibility, designed to reverberate in the capital’s corridors of power.

For years, both sides have been trapped in confidence-building measure (CBM) mode — a diplomatic term for talks that produce little of substance. A roadmap had been agreed — the Joint Comprehensive Plan towards Peace (JCPP) — but it was nearly derailed by security advisers to then-Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, who argued the initiative conceded too much to the BRN without any guarantee of reduced violence.

When Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul took office in August 2025, he moved quickly to appoint a new negotiating team. But his government said little about what concessions Bangkok was prepared to offer the BRN or the broader Malay community of Patani.

The BRN was sceptical from the start, viewing the outreach as a hollow gesture from a government with a three-month shelf life. Nonetheless, the two sides met three times during that period. Their final session, held in Malaysia on January 8–9, 2026, ended badly. Two days later, the BRN blew up 11 petrol stations, along with attached convenience stores, across the Malay-speaking South.

The statement needed no translation: the BRN would not be cast as a supporting act in a Thai politician’s narrative. The group openly resented being deployed to burnish Anutin’s image as a peacemaker.

The BRN felt they were treated as a political prop, with Anutin using the talks to project an image of decisive leadership — a contrast, his allies implied, to Paetongtarn’s inaction. Thai negotiators floated the term “End State,” signalling, at least rhetorically, that a final resolution to the century-old conflict was within reach.

The BRN had a concrete definition in mind. For the group, “End State” means self-governance: a regional assembly with the authority to legislate, levy taxes, and share power with Bangkok. When the issue was raised at the technical-level talks in January 2026, the Thai delegation offered something far more modest: token representation at the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC), a sprawling multi-agency bureaucracy focused on development.

Two days after that meeting, BRN fighters launched coordinated arson attacks against 11 PTT petrol stations and their attached convenience stores across the region. The message to Bangkok was unambiguous: The BRN would not be instrumentalised for anyone’s political gain.

Thailand’s negotiating team is led by Thanut Suvarnananda, a civilian who heads the National Intelligence Agency (NIA) — the body that has taken the lead role in managing Bangkok’s response to the decades-long insurgency in the Malay-speaking South.

The NIA moved swiftly, bringing senior military officers from the Philippines and Indonesia to Bangkok to brief the Royal Thai Army on lessons learned from the Mindanao and Aceh peace processes.

What ultimately distinguished Mindanao and Aceh was genuine political will — a readiness by governments to make painful concessions. Thailand’s peace process, formally launched on 28 February 2013, has never moved beyond the confidence-building stage to confront substantive issues.

Thailand’s process also lacks a critical ingredient that gave the Mindanao and Aceh initiatives their momentum: sustained international engagement. In Mindanao, the Malaysian mediator, Datuk Tengku Abdul Ghafar, was backed by the International Contact Group, a coalition of states and international NGOs that played a direct and decisive role in steering negotiations toward a final agreement. The Aceh process benefited from a comparable international architecture.

For Thailand, progress, however, has proved elusive. The Royal Thai Army — a central stakeholder — has never accepted the principle of engaging separatists as political equals. Despite public rhetoric about winning hearts and minds, the military has remained committed to the view that the insurgency can be crushed by force.

The new team’s most immediate challenge, analysts say, is persuading the Thai military to abandon that all-or-nothing approach.

Central to the impasse is a conceptual divide. The military frames the insurgency as a security problem; the insurgents define it as a political struggle. Until Bangkok revises its counterinsurgency doctrine to bridge that gap, the stalemate and violence will persist.

As Henry Kissinger once observed, military forces can pacify territory, but without a political framework, insurgent networks will reconstitute themselves the moment troops withdraw.

Even if the army softens its position, the question of concessions looms large. Bangkok has shown limited appetite for compromise. Tellingly, every previous chief Thai representative — with the sole exception of Dr. Mark Thamthai — refused to use the word “negotiation,” wary that the term would confer too much recognition and legitimacy on the Malay insurgents.

Thailand’s process did once include five international observers, a concession wrested by the BRN. But their participation was largely performative; the Thai side restricted their mandate so tightly that their expertise was never meaningfully applied.

Under Prime Minister Paetongtarn, the process stalled entirely. Her government demanded that the BRN end all violence before talks could resume. The BRN refused, insisting that any de-escalation — including a ceasefire — was itself a matter for negotiation, and that an international monitoring team, working alongside local civil society organisations (CSOs), must be allowed to observe the process.

The deadlock held until Paetongtarn was removed from office on ethical grounds in August 2025. Anutin Charnvirakul stepped in, leading a three-month caretaker government that moved to reconstitute the negotiating team.

Today’s attacks carried a second signal: the process must evolve beyond confidence-building theatrics and engage the core political questions — self-governance, power-sharing, and the establishment of a regional assembly.

Before substantive talks can proceed, the BRN says it must first consult its constituency — the people of Patani — to ensure its negotiating positions reflect grassroots sentiment. That process, formally termed Public Consultation, is one of three core agenda items in the agreed framework. The other two are a cessation of hostilities and a political resolution to the conflict. All three were codified in the JCPP, the roadmap that has nominally guided the process since its inception. 

Since Anutin took office, the JCPP has been rebranded as the Peace Dialogue Plan Implementation Framework — a renaming that signals a rhetorical shift from planning to action, even if the substance of that action remains contested.

One contested question is whether Thai CSOs could substitute for the five international observers. Officials have floated the idea, but the most credible CSOs — those with genuine roots in the Malay community and the confidence of the BRN — are unlikely to participate. Many have been subjected to sustained harassment: criminal prosecutions and coordinated disinformation campaigns on social media, allegedly orchestrated by military actors who regard civil society criticism as a threat to national security. The two camps have been locked in a prolonged battle over control of the conflict’s narrative.

Several CSO leaders face criminal prosecution simply for invoking the term “Bangsa Patani” or publicly championing the right to self-determination for the people of this historically contested region.

Groups including The Patani and the Civil Society Assembly for Peace have been directly targeted, as have individual human rights defenders who report death threats and coordinated online campaigns by pro-government accounts engaged in what is known as Information Operations (covert psychological and information warfare systematically conducted by state security agencies). 

The BRN has said it will continue to insist on international observer participation in any formal talks.

For now, the Thai Army remains opposed to any formal commitments — no memoranda of understanding, no ceasefire accords. Any move to acknowledge the political character of BRN activities, let alone granting the group a measure of legitimacy, faces near-certain rejection. Senior military figures continue to see BRN members simply as criminals.

As for the talks themselves, a growing number of observers question Bangkok’s sincerity. The prevailing assessment is that Thailand’s overriding objective is not resolution but containment — suppressing violence to a tolerable level while avoiding the political concessions a durable peace would require. Whether a framework for genuine coexistence between the far South and the Thai state can ever be built on those terms remains deeply uncertain.

Don Pathan is a security analyst focusing on conflict in Myanmar/Burma and insurgency in Thailand’s far south.

Negotiating Peace in the Far South, Anutin Style

sECURITY

High-Level Meeting between Thai and BRN negotiators in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Jan. 2026.

Don Pathan
www.stratsea.com 

The Kissinger Conundrum

Thailand’s new negotiating team for the far south – formed under the new government – moved quickly by inviting senior military officers from the Philippines and Indonesia to Bangkok to share lessons from the Mindanao and Aceh peace processes with the Thai army.

The new Thai team is led by a civilian, Thanut Suvarnananda, the country’s chief of the National Intelligence Agency (NIA), which has been central to the efforts in resolving this long-running conflict between the Malays of Patani and the Thai state.

Thanut Suvarnanada

Progress has not come easily. As a key stakeholder, the army has never accepted the idea of engaging separatists on equal terms.The military continues to believe the insurgency can be defeated through force alone. It has also spoken of winning the hearts and minds of local Malays, but that goal has remained out of reach.

Henry Kissinger once observed that military forces can clear an area, but without a political plan, insurgent networks simply reconstitute themselves once the troops withdraw. 

The new team’s most pressing challenge is persuading the Thai military to abandon this all-or-nothing approach.

Part of the problem is a fundamental mismatch in how each side frames the conflict. The military treats the insurgency as a security matter, while the insurgents view their struggle as political. Without a revised counterinsurgency strategy that addresses this gap, the stalemate and violence will continue.

Why Bangkok Refuses to “Negotiate”

But even if the Thai army abandons its zero-sum mindset, the question of concessions remains. Thailand has shown little willingness to give ground. In fact, all previous chief representatives, with the exception of Dr Mark Thamthai, refused to use the word “negotiation” in reference to the peace talks, fearing it would grant the Melayu rebels too much recognition and legitimacy.

One advantage the Mindanao and Aceh peace initiatives had that Thailand lacks is the direct involvement of the international community. The Malaysian mediator at the time, Tengku Datu Abdul Ghafar Tengku Mohamad, was backed by the International Contact Group (ICG), a body comprising states and international NGOs that played a direct and decisive role in steering the Mindanao peace process toward final peace agreement. The Aceh process had similar support and arrangement.

The Thai initiative once included five international observers, a concession to Barisan Revolusi Nasional Melayu Patani (BRN). This long-standing separatist movement commands nearly all the combatants on the ground. However, the process failed to make effective use of their expertise, as their role was kept narrowly limited.

A further advantage the Mindanao and Aceh processes shared was genuine political will—a commitment from their respective governments to make concessions. Thailand’s peace process, formally launched on 28 February 2013, has never progressed beyond the confidence-building measure (CBM) stage to address substantive issues.

The Thai process ground to a halt under Paetongtarn Shinawatra’s administration, which refused to resume talks unless the BRN first ended all forms of violence. BRN countered that any reduction in violence – or ceasefire – would itself need to be negotiated, and that an international monitoring team working alongside local CSOs would have to be permitted to observe the process.

Both sides held firm until Paetongtarn was removed from office on ethical grounds in August 2025, paving the way for Anutin Charnvirakul’s first government – a three-month caretaker administration – that established a new negotiating team.

Buzzwords vs Autonomy

BRN viewed Anutin’s initiative as a hollow gesture, given that his government would only be in office for three months. Nevertheless, the two sides met three times during that brief window.

Their final meeting took place on 8-9 January 2026 in Malaysia, which unfortunately did not go well. Two days later, BRN blew up 11 petrol stations, along with the attached convenience stores, across the Malay-speaking south. The signal was unmistakable: BRN would not be treated as a prop. The rebels resented being exploited to bolster Anutin’s political image.

A BRN officer dismissed Anutin’s decision to form a peace negotiation team as “pretentious.” Critics argue the move was a public relations stunt to portray Anutin as a man of action during his brief three-month government. In contrast, his predecessor, Paetongtarn, sent no representatives to the negotiating table.

The Thai delegation introduced the buzzword “end state” during three meetings but failed to define any concrete government concessions. While Anutin’s faction heavily promoted the phrase, BRN interprets “end state” strictly as “self-governance”.

For BRN, this requires a regional assembly that grants the Patani people self-determination, local tax collection rights and a formal power-sharing mechanism with Thailand’s central government.

A second message carried comparable importance: BRN has expressed dissatisfaction with ongoing discussions that lack a substantive and actionable agenda. To BRN, the talks should progress beyond CBM and address concrete issues. Topics such as self-governance, power-sharing, and the establishment of a regional assembly must be included in the dialogue.

Before that can happen, BRN must consult its constituency – the people of Patani – to determine whether its demands align with the community’s aspirations.

This process, known as public consultation, is one of three core agenda items that have been on the negotiating table for some time. The other two are cessation of violence and a political solution to the conflict. All three were enshrined in the Joint Comprehensive Plan towards Peace (JCPP), the agreed roadmap for the peace process.

Since Anutin took office in August 2025, the JCPP has been rebranded as the Peace Dialogue Plan Implementation Framework (PDPIF), signalling a rhetorical shift from “planning” to “implementation”.

Information Operations

There has been a discussion among the Thai defense planners about using Thai CSOs to replace the five international observers. How far their involvement would extend remains unclear, but the most credible CSOs – those with strong ties to the Malay community and the respect of BRN – will likely refuse to participate.

The military and local CSOs have long been at odds, locked in a battle over control of the conflict’s narrative. The CSOs have faced persistent harassment through legal proceedings and disinformation campaigns on social media platforms, orchestrated by military actors who regard CSO criticism as a security threat.

Several CSO leaders face criminal charges simply for using terms such as Bangsa Patani (the Patani nation) or advocating the right to self-determination for the people of this historically disputed region. Groups like The Patani and the Civil Society Assembly for Peace (CAP) are among those affected, alongside human rights defenders who face ongoing death threats because of toxic nationalism and coordinated attacks by pro-government accounts operating across social media and through information operations (IO).

BRN, however, has stated it will continue to insist on international community participation as observers of any official talks.

While the number of violent incidents has fallen sharply – from 1,400 in 2007 to 150 in 2025 – the outlook for the new negotiating team is not encouraging. The first four months of 2026 alone saw a surge in violence to 258 incidents.

Squeezing the Narrative as Violence Escalates

The decline in incidents from 2007 to 2025 was driven by an expanded security presence with Paramilitary Rangers deployed to remote areas, which significantly reduced response times to insurgent activity.

But the statistics alone do not capture the full picture. Insurgents have compensated for fewer attacks by maximising psychological impact. The era of roadside improvised explosive devices (IEDs) that went largely unnoticed is over.

Today’s attacks are designed to be seen, heard, and felt – above all by policymakers in Bangkok. Besides the attacks on the 11 petrol stations, in July 2025, the government bomb squad unearthed 11 EIDs in Krabi and Phuket—two of Thailand’s top destinations on the Andaman coast.

The then defence minister Phutham Wechayachai was reluctant to link the IEDs to the insurgency in the far south, even though the arrested culprits were from the region. He urged reporters to exercise caution in their coverage. Security officials, however, said the bomb circuits and design suggested BRN involvement.

Another high-profile incident is the 9 March 2025 attack on the Sungai Kolok district office by a 10-strong BRN unit, killing two Defence Volunteers (DVs) and injuring eight others. The assault ended with a car bomb that ripped through the compound moments after the combatants retreated.

As things stand, the Thai army opposes any formal commitments—no MoUs, no ceasefire agreements. Any suggestion of granting BRN a degree of legitimacy, or even acknowledging the political dimension of its activities, is likely to be rejected. Many Thai military officials continue to regard the BRN simply as criminals.

As for the so-called peace talks, many observers regard Thailand’s participation as insincere. The prevailing view is that Bangkok’s sole objective is to reduce violence to a manageable level. There is no genuine appetite to make concessions to BRN or the Malays of Patani, or to explore a framework for peaceful coexistence between the far south and the rest of the country.

This article is published under a Creative Commons Licence. Republications minimally require 1) credit to the authors and their institutions, and 2) credit to STRAT.O.SPHERE CONSULTING PTE LTD  and include a link back to either our home page or the article URL.

Don Pathan is a security analyst focusing on conflict in Myanmar/Burma and insurgency in Thailand’s far south.

Don Pathan

Thailand’s High-Stakes Gamble in the South

 Security

May 1, 2026 / 7 minutes of reading

File Photo: A Defence Volunteer miraculously survived an explosion from a bomb hidden under her
vehicle in Pattani, March 17, 2025.

Don Pathan
www.stratsea.com

End of Status Quo

Approximately two years ago, Thai military generals began discussing the possibility of transferring some security responsibilities – typically handled by regular soldiers – to local civilians working within the Ministry of Interior (MOI).

The target operational areas are the three southernmost border provinces where a two-decade-old separatist insurgency has so far claimed more than 7,700 lives.

The locally recruited Territorial Defence Volunteers (DVs), who primarily serve as security personnel for provincial governors and district chiefs in the Malay-speaking south, were informed that their roles require a willingness to face significant risks as part of their government employment.

In his policy statement to the Parliament on 9 April 2026, incoming Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul said work is on the way to strengthen DV’s capacity and that their coordination with the Royal Thai Army will be enhanced.

For much of the past two decades, since the current wave of separatist insurgency resurfaced in this Muslim-majority region, DV survived the conflict by not seeing or saying anything. Barisan Revolusi Nasional Melayu Patani (BRN) – the one long-standing separatist movement that controls virtually all the combatants on the ground – left them alone, seeing their basic security duties as non-threatening to their quest for separation from the Thai state.

In contrast to other minority groups living near the country’s borders, the Thai government was unwilling to allow the Patani Malay DV access to weapons or intelligence. This reluctance stems from DV’s shared cultural background with BRN members and local residents whom government continues to face difficulties in winning over. This creates operational risks.

But there was a need to cut military spending due to the conflict in the far south. To save money, the government started gradually replacing regular soldiers in this restive region with Paramilitary Rangers, a light infantry force acting as an auxiliary to the Royal Thai Army. This allowed the security grid to expand to extremely remote areas.

Because of the Rangers’ surge, the total number of violent incidents in the region dropped to just over 800 in 2008, a big drop from 1,400 from the previous years. The figure saw a downward trajectory from then to 2025 where the total number of violent incidents stood at 150.

But the number does not tell us everything about the conflict. Insurgents make up for the drop in overall attacks by being more selective with their targets with the aim of instilling greater psychological impact—the kind that could be felt by the policymakers in Bangkok.

BRN combatants would take their fights to the Thai security outposts and government installations, sometimes using car bombs to get their message across.

Selective Targeting and Psychological Warfare

Thus, two years ago, the idea of putting locally hired MOI’s DV security details on the front line gained traction.

Concern of operation risks is still there. But the generals believe that as long as DVs are not given too much leeway, the army can minimise the risk.

But BRN is not taking this sitting down, however. They have made their point very public. Stern warnings were printed on flyers, posters and spray-painted on paved roads throughout this restive region, calling on DVs to quit their jobs. To back up their demands, over the past two years BRN have carried out several vicious attacks against various MOI installations manned with DV security details.

However, one should not forget that DVs are not trained soldiers—they are lightly armed and do not operate like a military unit. They move around the area with provincial governors and district chiefs or get posted at MOI installations to carry out basic security guard duties. Getting them out on reconnaissance patrol or offensive operation puts them in the line of fire.

But the government is staying the course. Policy statement delivered to the Parliament by Anutin on 9 April 2026 was a testimony of that. How this strategy will play out on the ground, on the other hand, remains to be seen.

The Trend Reverses

The future does not look so good, however.

Since the start of the year, the downward trend observed since 2007 appeared to be reversing. Violence has increased, with a total of 30 bombings and shootings occurring in the first two months of 2026, leading to 22 casualties, including two fatalities.

There were the January 11 arson attacks on 11 petrol stations in response to Thailand’s cold shoulder to BRN’s proposals at the last round of negotiation in Kuala Lumpur.

The surge from mid-February to mid-March was largely attributed to the Ramadhan period. This is a timeframe historically associated with increased insurgent activities to remind the Thais that they have not forgotten about the massacre in 2004 when 85 young Melayu men died at the hands of security officials.

Recently, the Thai army has expanded their counterinsurgency operation to include an alternative narrative aimed at discrediting BRN. Paramilitary Ranger Darun Daroheng, a Muslim from Narathiwat, was fatally shot on 24 March while on leave for the Ramadhan holiday at his residence in Sungai Padi district.

The army referred to Darun as a “shahid” (martyr), and the government plaque on his gravestone similarly described him as such.

To live up to the hype, the local task force commander was eager to hunt down the culprits behind the shooting death of Darun. Helicopter, along with ground troops, was dispatched to hunt them down.  BRN and residents accused soldiers of throwing hand grenades from the helicopter against combatants on the ground, frightening local villagers and forcing them to run for cover.

The army dismissed the allegation, saying the explosions came from the insurgents’ improvised explosive devices (IEDs) and that the helicopter was for reconnaissance purposes only.

Over the past two decades, hundreds, if not thousands, of Malay Muslim security officials have been killed, but the state never called them shahid. It was not until the death of Private Mustakeem Machema, a Malay Muslim from Narathiwat, who was killed in a fierce clash with Cambodian troops on the border last December that such a concept was employed.

Mustakeem was praised by the army as a martyr who fought and died for the “Kingdom and for the homeland”. Darun was given the same honour by the army.

But the one incident that attracted a great deal of media attention and kicked off a public storm was the failed attempt on the life of a local politician, Prachachat Party MP Kamonsak Leewamoh, by a highly organised hit team.

Four individuals, including a former Marine, have been arrested. The motive is still very much unclear, but the alleged military involvement is still far from being resolved, as the vehicle used by the hit squad was signed off by an army colonel.

Military Solution for Political Problem

Lt Gen Norathip Phoinok, commander of the 4th Army Region responsible for daily operations of the entire region, has come under intense criticism for saying the attempt on Kamonsak’s life was connected to this ongoing turmoil. He identified Islamic educational institutions such as pondok and tadika as primary causes of regional unrest.

This has stoked anger, with leaders of Islamic schools in the region calling on the government to remove Norathip from the command. He has since apologised for the ill-advised remark.

Like all other previous commanding generals of this historically disputed region, Norathip does not seem to understand that for a militarily superior power, any outcome short of total victory is perceived as a failure. Conversely, a weaker insurgent force achieves success simply by avoiding elimination. The result is a stalemate that the army cannot sustain politically.

Thailand has not succeeded in resolving this conflict because the armed forces and the government have treated this conflict as a military problem, while the insurgents have considered it a political struggle. Until a new counterinsurgency strategy is defined, the stalemate and the violence will continue.

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  Don Pathan

  Don Pathan is a security analyst focusing on conflict in Myanmar/Burma and insurgency in Thailand's far south.

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Government’s quick fix meets complex reality in Thailand’s Deep South

Thai Army's gunship in the far South. (File Photo: CHAIWAT PUMPUANG)

Don Pathan
Prachatai 

The incoming government of Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul is finding out very quickly that conflict resolution for the Deep South is not so straightforward and that his quick-fix approach will not achieve the intended results, given the complexity of the Deep South.

A proposed border fence between Thailand and Malaysia is an outdated, high-cost solution that ignores the complex, socio-economic and political roots of the Patani conflict, not to mention the disruption of local cross-border livelihoods.

Anutin raised the idea during his brief visit to the Deep South in mid-February after receiving a security briefing about the spike in violence during Ramadan. They didn’t tell him that combatants from the Barisan Revolusi Naisonal Melayu Patani (BRN) tend to step up attacks during the holy month to remind the Thai government that they haven’t forgotten about the Tak Bai massacre, an incident in late 2004 when 85 unarmed young Melayu men died at the hands of security officials – seven shot dead at the protest site and 78 suffocated after they were stacked one on top another on the back military transport trucks. The incident took place during the Ramadan of 2004.

Thai-Malaysian border, Sungai Kolok River (File Photo: CHAIWAT PUMPUANG)

The incident that has generated a great deal of media attention was the March 20 assassination attempt on MP Kamolsak Leewamoh, a prominent human rights lawyer from the Prachachart Party. Kamolsak is known for speaking out against the culture of impunity among security officials in the Deep South and was the central figure in exposing the Khao Kradong land dispute, which involves allegations of public land encroachment by the influential Chidchob family in Buri Ram province.

The hit team included two former Marines, one former paramilitary ranger, a local driver and the owner of a vehicle repair shop accused of dismantling the getaway vehicle to hide evidence after the shooting. One of the marines – a trained former Navy SEAL– is on the run. The motive is still very much unclear. The public is demanding to know why permission to use a government vehicle was signed off by a military colonel at the nearby base.

To make matters worse, Commander of the Fourth Army Area Lt Gen Narathip Phoynork, blamed the Islamic education system in the region as the root cause of the ongoing unrest and suggested that the attempt on Kamolsak’s life needs to be understood in that context.  Reaction from religious and community leaders was swift, forcing an intervention from Anutin and an apology from Lt Gen Narathip.

Nevertheless, a so-called Information Operation (IO) was unleashed by the Army to discredit the institution of Pondok schools, alleging corruption among school owners while inculcating anti-Thailand sentiment.

Narathip’s statement and the IO that followed reflect the long-standing prejudice of Thai society and the security agencies toward the Malays of Patani, observers said.

Private Islamic schools, locally known as Pondok, are one of the most important institutions in this Muslim-majority region as they teach not just Islam but Malay identity and a historical-cultural narrative that sets this region apart from the rest of Thailand.

A prominent scholar, Prof Joseph Chinyong Liow, Dean of the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy in Singapore, views Pondok as the central institution for preserving a Malay-Muslim identity and cultural heritage in the face of intense "Siamization" and assimilatory pressure from the Thai government.

These schools do not promote separatism per se. But the narrative instilled in these students is enough to remind them that they are different from the rest of Thailand. Moreover, that feeling of being second-class is reinforced by the presence of armed soldiers patrolling the streets, the culture of impunity among security officials, and the usual arrogance of government officials towards the local Malays. In other words, there is a sense that Patani is an occupied territory.

The region is the poorest in the country, but the conflict is not rooted in poverty or development; it is Thailand’s policy of assimilation that comes at the expense of the Malays’ religious identity.

Uprisings in this historically contested region have occurred periodically following Patani's defeat in 1786, which led to its status as a vassal state under Siam. The region came under the direct rule of Siam at the turn of the century when the seven Malay sultans were removed and replaced by governors from Bangkok. The border was established with British Malaya at about the same time.

But a full-blown armed insurgency emerged 50 years later in the 1960s as a reaction against Thailand’s policy of assimilation.

For the Malays of Patani, identity and religion are two sides of the same coin. And so, when the state demanded that they embrace the Thai identity, the Patani Malays responded by taking up arms.

Peace initiatives have come and gone, and the talks have never moved beyond confidence-building measures because no Thai government has been willing to make concessions to the Malays of Patani or the BRN.

In September 2025 when he took up the post of prime minister through a deal with People’s Party, Anutin was quick to set up a negotiation team to resume talks with the BRN even though his time in office was to last only three months. He wanted to show that he meant business.

For close observers of the southern conflict, Anutin’s action was little more than showmanship; he was more interested in differentiating himself from the government of PM Paetongtarn Shinawatra, who refused to resume peace talks unless the BRN ended all forms of violence. The BRN stated that violence reduction requires negotiation, and any ceasefire should be monitored by international observers in cooperation with local NGOs.

During Anutin’s brief first premiership, his negotiating team held three separate meetings with BRN—starting with an informal introduction, followed by high-level official negotiations, and lastly a technical level meeting where finer details were discussed.

The BRN’s message was clear—the peace process can no longer be a talking shop; it must work towards something tangible and acceptable to both sides. The initiative was a rude awakening for the Anutin government as the BRN explained that the final outcome – what the Thais call the “end state” – must include what the movement calls “self-government”. It denotes an autonomous region where residents can elect their own representatives to a regional assembly that can enact its own laws, chart their own future, and collect taxes.

The most controversial component is the right to secession should Thailand fails to live up to its commitment.

At the technical meeting on January 8-9 in Kuala Lumpur, the Thais told the BRN that the best they could get was a few seats at the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC), a development agency that deals with pilot projects.

The meeting ended badly. Two days later, on the early morning of January 11, the BRN unleashed a spate of attacks against 11 petrol stations throughout the region, sending a stern warning to the Thai side that nothing comes easy in this restive region. The movement said they didn’t like being treated as a plaything.

Future not looking too great

Violence on the ground has continued unchecked since the beginning of this year. A total of 30 bombing and shooting incidents took place during January and February 2026, resulting in 22 casualties, including two deaths. This includes the January 7 car bomb against the Sala Mai Defence Volunteer outpost in Narathiwat’s Tak Bai district, prompting a brief gunfight.

On January 10, a group of insurgents disguised as paramilitary rangers robbed firearms from village defence volunteers; no injuries were reported. And then there was the attack against the 11 petrol stations in response to Thailand’s cold shoulder to the BRN proposals.

The situation was calm for the next four weeks until on February 8, a roadside bomb in Yala’s Bannang Sata District knocked an armoured vehicle off the road and onto its side. One soldier was rushed to a nearby hospital.

On the evening of February 14 and early morning of February 15, seven coordinated explosions rocked the two Narathiwat districts of Yi-ngo and Ra-ngae.

In Pattani, on March 15, roadworks vehicles were torched by assailants, part of a broader trend of targeting government-linked property, while on March 18, two separate bomb attacks were reported in the same province. Two days later in Pattani’s Thung Yang Daeng District, a convenience store was severely damaged by a hidden explosive that went off at 3:00 am.

On March 26, an army helicopter gunship was reportedly involved in throwing grenades while chasing insurgents. According to the Thai media, the gunfight left residents so intimidated that they avoided working in their fields. Villagers presented video evidence showing the helicopter and damage inflicted on their rubber plantations from the explosions. However, the military refuted these allegations, asserting that improvised explosive devices (IED) belonging to the insurgents were responsible for the blasts and insisting the helicopter was used solely for reconnaissance purposes.

Two separate attacks on April 20 that included the shooting death of one Defence Volunteer in Pattani, while in Yala, seven paramilitary rangers were injured by a roadside IED.

Downsizing and expanding the security grid

A decade ago, the Royal Thai Army started gradually replacing regular soldiers in the Deep South with paramilitary rangers because it was found to be a more cost-effective method of expanding the security network in this troubled region. The rangers were positioned in remote locations to enable rapid responses to insurgent activities. The result was a sharp decline in the overall number of violent incidents. 2008 saw just over 800 incidents, a drop from 1,400 the previous year. The downward trajectory continued steadily to 150 for 2025.

But the separatist combatants didn’t dwindle and disappear. They adapted to the new environment. Gone are the days of roadside IEDs or gunfights in remote areas where nobody sees it or documents incidents. The new strategy is to go after the psychological impact by making each of these attacks count and felt. The BRN would take their fight to the military, often using car bombs in a well-coordinated operations to send a stern message to the Thai side.

While the dramatic drop in the overall violent incidents was welcome, it was not exactly a game changer. Violence continued unabated, as seen the start of 2026 has shown. So it was time to time to start something new.

Outsourcing security work to the MOI’s Defence Volunteers

In his policy statement to the Parliament on 9 April 2026, Anutin said work is on the way to strengthen the Territorial Defence Volunteers’ (DV) capacity and enhance their coordination with the Royal Thai Army. It is part of a plan to get these locally-hired civilians to take up military duties.

The DVs’ primary function is to provide security for provincial governors and district chiefs in the Deep South.  For much of the past two decades, since the current wave of insurgency resurfaced in this Muslim-majority region, DVs survived the conflict by not seeing or saying anything. This approach was acceptable to the Thai government, particularly given their civilian status as employees of the Ministry of Interior (MOI).

Initially, separatist combatants rarely singled out DVs for attack, although occasionally, they got caught up in crossfire between the rebels and the security forces. But that began to change two years ago when the generals started toying with the idea of bringing the DVs into military operation.

Combatants responded by turning their weapons directly on the DVs. Stern warnings were posted on flyers, posters, and spray-painted messages on paved roads throughout this restive region, calling on DVs to leave their job. To back up their words, the BRN carried out several vicious attacks against various MOI installations stacked with DV security details.

But the government is not backing down. The policy statement delivered to Parliament by Anutin on April 9 was an assertion that the government will stay the course. How this strategy will play out on the ground, on the other hand, remains to be seen.

What Anutin and all the generals assigned to the Deep South don’t seem to understand is that insurgents achieve success simply by avoiding elimination. The rangers brought the number of violent incidents down, but couldn’t finish a job that is political in nature.

For the Thai armed forces, which are superior militarily, any outcome short of total victory will be perceived as a failure. The result is a stalemate that the government and the Army cannot sustain politically.

Don Pathan is a Thailand-based security analyst and development consultant focusing on conflict in Myanmar and the insurgency in Thailand's far south.