Blood Brothers, Brothers in Meaning: The Cry from the Heart of a Kampot Resident in the Face of the Roar of Borders
- Editorial team
- 4 hours ago
- 4 min read
In the Cambodian lands of laterite and rice fields, an expatriate, rooted here for ten years, watches with alarm the peril of a border conflict with Thailand. In Kampot, rocked by the river and green pepper, the sound of weapons shakes the harmony of a region united by culture and history.
This testimony expresses concern in the face of a fratricidal quarrel over Koh Kood and the OCA gas fields, threatening the families of Koh Kong and regional stability. The author argues for ASEAN dialogue, highlighting shared cultural roots in the hope of peace that preserves Khmer resilience.
“It has been ten years. Ten years that I have put down my suitcases on this laterite-and-rice-fields land, ten years that I have been learning to read the smiles, the silences, and above all this rich Khmer language that now occupies my days and nights as a writer. From my home in Kampot, rocked by the breeze from the river and the scents of green pepper, I long believed I had found a definitive haven, far from the tumult of the world.But today, the sound of boots resounds louder than the birdsong.
As a deeply rooted expatriate here — married twice, divorced twice, and now sharing my life with Any — I can no longer watch the news with the polite detachment of a foreign observer.What is currently playing out on the border between Thailand and Cambodia is not a simple geopolitical trivia for intellectual analysts; it is a tear in the very flesh of the region that I call 'my new home.'”
Anxiety at the Threshold of Family
The reports we have been receiving for a few days are alarming. They speak of Operation Sattawa, of airstrikes, of evacuated villages. While Kampot seems for now preserved, worry nevertheless joins our table every evening at 7 p.m. during my single daily meal.My partner, Any, looks westward, toward Koh Kong. Her mother and older sister live there. Koh Kong, this coastal border province next to the Thai province of Trat, is now in the eye of the cyclone.
The news from the maritime and land “front,” the rumors about claims around Koh Kood (or Koh Kut) and the OCA (Overlapping Claims Area) gas deposits are turning the familiar geography of our vacations into military maps.How to explain this anguish? It is the fear of knowing loved ones within firing range of artillery justified by heightened nationalisms. It is the fear that the road to the border, one we have taken so many times carefree, may become just a memory crossed out by barbed wire and military checkpoints.
A Fratricidal and Absurd War
I spend my days writing books on Khmer vocabulary and grammar. Ironically, in diving into the roots of words, I am struck by the immense cultural proximity between Cambodia and Thailand. These two nations are sisters. They share Theravāda Buddhism, the Ramayana (Reamker here, Ramakien there), deep Pali-Sanskrit roots, and a cuisine where Prahok and Pla Ra answer each other.Seeing these two peoples tear each other apart over lines on a map or promises of hydrocarbons is as much a cultural tragedy as a human one. It is like watching two hands of the same body fight one another.
My convictions, forged by a decade of respectful observation, are simple: this region has suffered too much. Cambodia is only just recovering, with a resilience that inspires admiration, after decades of darkness. The Cambodian youth — the ones learning French on my Facebook page, the ones dreaming of starting businesses and traveling — they do not deserve to see their future jeopardized by old grudges from 2008 or 2011 stoked by electoral calculations or international pressures.
My Expectations and Hopes
They speak of American mediation, of Donald Trump’s intervention, of punitive tariffs… All of this seems so far from the reality of the rice farmer in Preah Vihear or the fisherman in Koh Kong.What I expect, as a citizen by adoption of this country, is a return to reason. I want ASEAN to stop being a “paper tiger” and to enforce real dialogue. Memoranda of understanding (like that famous 2001 MOU everyone talks about) should not be pretexts for war, but tools for shared development.I am 65 years old. At my age, one no longer aspires to revolutions, but to stability and transmission.
I want to be able to continue writing my second volume on Khmer nouns without the noise of F-16s drowning my concentration. I want to be able to travel as I planned, without fearing that airports will close or the economy will collapse, ruining the small businesses on which we all depend.I am worried, yes. Terribly. But I keep hope — that stubborn hope I have seen so often in the eyes of Cambodians. I hope that wisdom will prevail over pride, and that the only “battle” that remains will be the friendly one of deciding which deserves the palm for the best noodles: Pad Thai or Kuy Teav.”
Fabien Peyronnet, resident in Cambodia for 10 years. Kampot, December 13, 2025