(Phnom Penh): When a net becomes badly tangled, someone who knows how to untangle it must first identify which strands are caught together and carefully loosen them one by one. But if the strands are pulled randomly, without understanding where the knots are, the net may become even more tangled and difficult to unravel.

It is this image that Thai border expert Surachart Bamrungsuk uses as a metaphor for the way the Thai government is handling its disputes with Cambodia. In an article published by Matichon Weekly on August 5, 2026, Surachart used the pointed phrase “a monkey untangling a net” to warn that attempts by the Thai government to resolve one problem may instead be creating new ones, making an already complicated dispute even more difficult to manage.

In Surachart’s usage, however, the phrase is not meant literally to call any individual a “monkey.” Rather, it is a political metaphor built around a central question: Is the Thai government finding a way out of its disputes with Cambodia, or are some of its own decisions making the exit increasingly difficult to find?

Surachart develops this argument through several interconnected issues: the competing maps, the 2001 Memorandum of Understanding (MOU), the Joint Boundary Commission (JBC), compulsory conciliation under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), and the risk of renewed armed conflict.

In his view, these issues do not exist in isolation. They resemble multiple strands of the same net: pulling the wrong one can make the entire net even more tangled.

Maps: When Domestic Political Positions Confront International Law

One of Surachart’s strongest criticisms concerns the Thai government’s declaration that it will continue to rely on a 1:50,000-scale military map.

For Surachart, the issue is not simply a contest between the 1:50,000 and 1:200,000 maps. The deeper questions are: What is the legal and historical basis of each map in the boundary-making process, and which map can legitimately support a state’s position under international law?

Surachart argues that the 1:50,000 military map cannot serve as a legal basis for determining the international boundary. He further points out that the map itself contains language indicating limitations on its use.

This is where the metaphor of “a monkey untangling a net” begins to take on greater significance.

From Surachart’s perspective, a position may be politically effective at home because it can reassure nationalist constituencies that the government is taking a firm stand in defense of national interests. But a position that appears strong domestically does not automatically carry the same weight internationally.

On the international stage, arguments are not judged by which side speaks the loudest. What matters are evidence, documents, treaties, state practice and the relevant legal framework.

Surachart’s first warning, therefore, is that if a government substitutes what its domestic supporters want to hear for what can be defended with evidence and legal reasoning internationally, short-term political gains at home may come at the cost of the country’s strategic position abroad.

The 2001 MOU: Closing One Door, Then Asking the Other Side to Return Through It?

The second issue that makes Surachart’s “monkey untangling a net” metaphor particularly vivid concerns the 2001 MOU relating to maritime issues.

Surachart notes that Thailand announced the termination of the 2001 MOU, which had provided a framework for bilateral negotiations with Cambodia. Yet the Thai side subsequently argued that Cambodia should first return to bilateral negotiations before pursuing compulsory conciliation under UNCLOS.

In Surachart’s reasoning, this reveals an inconsistency between the Thai government’s actions and its stated position: on the one hand, Thailand closed an existing bilateral framework; on the other, it called on Cambodia to return to the bilateral path.

If a state itself withdraws from a negotiating framework, it must anticipate that the other party may seek an alternative mechanism to address the unresolved dispute. Closing one mechanism does not make the underlying problem disappear. Instead, the dispute may simply move from one forum to another.

This illustrates another dimension of Surachart’s “net”: none of its strands exists independently; they are interconnected.

The MOU is linked to bilateral negotiations. Bilateral negotiations are linked to the choice of dispute-settlement mechanisms. And when one mechanism is closed, the other party may turn to an alternative international legal process in search of a solution.

Surachart’s second warning, therefore, is that closing one path without considering which path the other side may take next may not reduce the problem. Instead, it can add more strands to the “net” of the dispute and make it even harder to untangle.

JBC and Conciliation: Problems Do Not Disappear When One Door Closes

Surachart also emphasizes the need to distinguish clearly between the land-boundary dispute and maritime issues, which are subject to different mechanisms.

He notes that when Thai officials speak of addressing the maritime issue first while the land-boundary dispute remains without a clear way forward, an important question arises: Is the Thai government still keeping the door open to the Joint Boundary Commission, or JBC?

In Surachart’s analysis, the land and maritime issues should not be conflated. The JBC provides a bilateral mechanism for addressing the land boundary, while the maritime dispute has moved toward compulsory conciliation under UNCLOS.

If the JBC remains stalled while the maritime conciliation process also requires time, the broader Thailand-Cambodia dispute could remain unresolved for an extended period. In this sense, closing a mechanism — or allowing it to remain deadlocked — does not eliminate the underlying dispute.

This leads to an important strategic point: failing to resolve a problem is not the same as successfully managing it.

Time itself is not necessarily a cure for every dispute. If the root causes remain unresolved, the two sides continue to hold opposing positions, and mutual trust remains low, delay may increase uncertainty and the risk of renewed confrontation rather than reduce it.

This is where Surachart’s metaphor moves beyond diplomacy into the realm of security. If one negotiating path is stalled, a legal process takes time, and the underlying dispute remains unresolved, the distance between “no solution” and “renewed confrontation” may begin to narrow.

Surachart’s third warning is therefore that allowing a dispute to drag on is not itself a solution. If fewer avenues remain open while the underlying conflict persists, the “net” becomes not only harder to untangle but also more likely to turn a political and diplomatic crisis into a security crisis.

A “Third Round of War”: Surachart’s Gravest Warning

Toward the end of his article, Surachart moves from criticism of maps and diplomacy to a direct warning about war.

He argues that the Thai government should recognize that a “third round of war” would bring Thailand no strategic advantage and could instead leave the country in an even weaker position internationally.

This warning goes beyond simply saying, “Do not go to war.”

Surachart is challenging the notion that when diplomacy fails to resolve a problem, military force can provide the way out. In his assessment, the result could be precisely the opposite. War could add loss of life, destruction, population displacement and international pressure to the unresolved problems that already exist.

He also warns against allowing the military to become a victim of nationalist politics. If the use of force fails to produce the expected outcome, the armed forces could ultimately be blamed for decisions made by political leaders.

Behind this warning lies what is perhaps Surachart’s most fundamental criticism: the Thai government is giving too much priority to domestic politics in its handling of an international dispute.

At home, political leaders may need to respond to public opinion and nationalist sentiment. On the international stage, however, a state’s position must withstand scrutiny based on evidence, documents, agreements, international law and the consistency of its policies.

Surachart’s fourth warning is therefore clear: nationalism may generate pressure to use force, but it cannot guarantee victory. And when domestic politics exerts too much influence over foreign policy, attempts to find a way out of a dispute may instead tighten the “net.”

Why Does He Write of “the Monkey on Si Ayutthaya Road”?

Surachart’s closing line is especially pointed when he asks whether Thailand will continue to allow “the monkey (on Si Ayutthaya Road) to untangle the net.”

The reference to Si Ayutthaya Road, where Thailand’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs is located, gives the metaphor an unmistakable political target. It is a form of satirical criticism aimed at the management of foreign policy, particularly the consistency between political decision-makers and the professional institutions within the ministry.

This also helps explain why Surachart calls on specialists in Thailand’s Department of Treaties and Legal Affairs and the Royal Thai Survey Department to ensure that political leaders are provided with accurate information.

His broader message is that complex international disputes should not be managed through political statements alone. Technical expertise, law and historical evidence must remain central to the decision-making process.

Conclusion: “The More You Untangle, the Tighter It Gets”

Ultimately, Surachart Bamrungsuk’s phrase “a monkey untangling a net” can be distilled into a simple idea: attempting to solve a problem without a coherent strategy can make that problem even harder to resolve.

In his analysis, the Thailand-Cambodia dispute resembles a net of interconnected strands — maps, the 2001 MOU, the JBC, international legal mechanisms, domestic politics and nationalist sentiment. A decision affecting one strand can produce consequences across the others.

Surachart’s warning does not mean that Thailand must agree with Cambodia on every issue. Rather, his message is that defending the national interest requires a coherent strategy across politics, diplomacy and law, rather than decisions that solve one problem only to create another.

The question Surachart ultimately leaves for the Thai government and Thai society is therefore this: Is Thailand actually untangling the “net” of the dispute — or is every attempt to loosen it only pulling the knots tighter?