Culture & Tradition: Teanh Proat, the Rope that Unites Gods, Demons, and Cambodia's Future

Under the crushing heat of the Khmer New Year in mid-April, Krang Thnung bursts into life. Around a thick rope made of buffalo skin, two groups face off: men and women aged 25 to 60, ready to battle it out.​

The women, more numerous, balance the odds in a tradition as old as the village itself. Three times, the cry "Heouy!" rises, a ritual roar meant to repel malevolent spirits.​

When the signal is given, the ground shakes. Fists clench, bodies strain, dust and sweat mingle. The winning team drags its opponents across the dirt line amid laughter, silly bets, and playful challenges: piggyback rides, mud splashes, and jovial slaps. At the end, a village elder cuts the rope, symbolizing renewal and fertility for the upcoming rice season.​

From Myth to UNESCO

The Teanh Proat, the Cambodian "tug of war," goes beyond mere sport. This rite echoes the ancient Hindu myth of churning the sea of milk, where gods and demons vie for amrita, the elixir of immortality, by pulling on the cosmic serpent naga. As early as the 12th century, this scene adorned the bas-reliefs of Angkor Wat and the gates of Angkor Thom, built by Jayavarman VII to restore a kingdom ravaged by invasions. Today, this communal game, celebrated at New Year and during planting seasons, embodies the pursuit of balance, fertility, and harmony.​

On December 2, 2015, UNESCO inscribed this practice on the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage in Windhoek, praising its social and community value. On that occasion, Samdech Techo Hun Sen reminded everyone of their responsibility to perpetuate this symbol of unity. Becoming the sixth intangible heritage recognized by the country, alongside the apsara dance and Kun Lbokator, Teanh Proat celebrates solidarity and a people's living memory.​

Guardians and Transmission

In Kampong Cham, Sokha, 55, observes: "In the past, only married people played, to maintain cosmic balance. Now, young people prefer their phones." She smiles as she recalls the symbolic bets, meant to attract fertility at the dawn of the new year. In Phnom Penh, her 22-year-old nephew confides: "TikTok dances have replaced our games. But when I saw Angkor Wat, I understood: it's us, the gods and demons, pulling together."​

Faced with this generational divide, some vocational training (TVET) teachers are reintroducing Teanh Proat into their classes, linking sport, history, and social cohesion. A heritage expert recalls: "After the dark years, this game rebuilt communities, just as Jayavarman VII did long ago." These testimonies reveal a Cambodia seeking unity between modernity and memory.​

Challenges and Revival

Modernization threatens this tradition: material costs are rising, youth are leaving villages, screens are monopolizing attention. Ten years after its UNESCO recognition, Teanh Proat stands as a test: will it survive the digital revolution?​

For many, its vitality still testifies to the country's strength—a strength born of collective effort, creative disorder, and resilience. Participating in a match means reconnecting with a shared memory. Pulling the rope unites past and future in a single impulse: that of a people pulling together toward prosperity.​