Sacred Stones, Contested Borders: The Temples of Preah Vihear and Ta Muen Thom in the Cambodia–Thailand Conflict

High atop the cliffs of the Dangrek Mountains, where forest canopies whisper to ancient stones and the horizon stretches across two modern nations, lie two temples, Preah Vihear and Ta Muen Thom. Built in the zenith of the Khmer Empire, these sanctuaries were not merely carved out of rock but hewn from a vision of cosmic order, where divinity and kingship were inseparable. Today, however, these timeless temples are no longer just monuments of devotion; they have become flashpoints in a very temporal battle of borders, pride, and national identity.

The story of Preah Vihear is as majestic as its setting. Perched 525 meters above the plains on a steep promontory, the temple commands sweeping views into Thailand, its northern approach forming a dramatic path toward the sacred summit. Built over centuries, its earliest stones dating to the reign of Yashovarman I in the late 9th century Khmer king and later expanded by Suryavarman I and Suryavarman II. The temple was a tribute to Shiva in his form as Shikhareshvara, “Lord of the Summit.” The temple is aligned along a north–south axis, unusual in the Khmer tradition, as if the very geography of this place compelled a rethinking of sacred orientation!  

The path to the Temple is a cosmic journey: five monumental gopuras rise sequentially, each level drawing the pilgrim closer not only to the deity but also to an elevated view of the world, literal and metaphysical. Carvings adorn the walls with celestial dancers, lingas stand embedded in stone, and the temple itself seems to hover between earth and sky. In recent years, Preah Vihear Temple has become more than just an ancient religious monument. It has become a symbol of Cambodia’s claim to national sovereignty, especially in the face of territorial disputes with Thailand. While the temple was originally built for religious worship during the Khmer Empire, today it represents Cambodia’s political and cultural ownership of a historical site that is being contested.

In 1962, after years of diplomatic tussle, the International Court of Justice ruled that the temple lies within Cambodian territory. Thailand, however, has never fully accepted the ruling, particularly objecting to the adjacent 4.6-square-kilometre area surrounding the site. For Thailand, Preah Vihear is as much a spiritual relic as it is a reminder of territorial ambiguity inherited from their ancestors for centuries together, and then finalized by colonial-era maps drawn by the French. What was once a pilgrimage route is now a political frontline, and what was once a place of spiritual elevation has become a symbol of national rivalry.

To the west of Preah Vihear, along another segment of the same escarpment, lies Ta Muen Thom, another jewel of Khmer architecture. This temple, though less grand in scale, holds equal weight in heritage and symbolic importance. Unlike Preah Vihear, which sits entirely within Cambodian-claimed territory, Ta Muen Thom lies in what is now Thailand’s Surin Province, yet barely a breath away from Cambodia’s Oddar Meanchey region. It is part of a trio of temples, Ta Muen, Ta Muen Toch, and Ta Muen Thom, that once marked a vital rest point along the ancient royal road from Angkor to Phimai.

Here too, the stone tells stories. Carved during the reign of Jayavarman VII, the devout Buddhist king who ushered in an era of monumental temple-building, Ta Muen Thom nonetheless bears the unmistakable mark of Shaiva iconography. The presence of lingams, sacred springs, and ritual platforms suggests that the site served both as a place of worship and a spiritual sanctuary for pilgrims and traveling royalty. The very spring beneath the temple may once have been considered a tirtha, a sacred crossing between the mortal and divine.

Today, Ta Muen Thom is less a waypoint than a wedge in a fraught geopolitical boundary. Cambodian monks and heritage officials claim spiritual and cultural lineage to the site, while Thai authorities point to their administrative control dating back nearly a century. Military outposts dot the fringes. Soldiers walk where ascetics once meditated. And once again, stones that once united kingdoms under a single cosmology now divide modern nations.

The current conflict of July 2025, with artillery fire and airstrikes shaking the terrain around these sacred sites, is tragic not only in terms of human cost but also in what it reveals about the fragility of shared heritage. These temples were never meant to be singular possessions. They were imagined by kings who ruled lands that transcended today’s borders, Khmer kings who did not know Thailand or Cambodia as nation-states, but saw this entire region as a sacred landscapes, a reflection of Mount Meru and the churning cosmos.

The royal highway/ processional route from Angkor to Wat Phu, en-route Preah Vihear and Koh Ker (lingapura Capital city)

In turning these temples into national trophies, the very spirit that birthed them is betrayed. The UNESCO inscription of Preah Vihear in 2008, though a triumph for Cambodian diplomacy, inflamed Thai public sentiment. Similarly, Cambodia’s cultural claims over Ta Muen Thom raise alarm in Thailand. National flags are hoisted over gopuras, troops sleep in mandapas, and ancient sculptures are caught in the crossfire.

What is needed now is not another cartographic argument, but a civilizational dialogue, a recognition that these sites are not either/or, but both/and. They belong to the Khmer soul, which undergirds the cultural histories of both Cambodia and Thailand. Perhaps the path forward lies not in dividing the temples, but in co-stewarding them, in allowing pilgrims, scholars, and citizens from both nations to access and preserve them without fear or bias.

These temples have withstood centuries of wind, monsoon, empire, and neglect. They have seen rulers rise and fall, belief systems ebb and flow. But will their sanctity survive the ambitions of the nation-state? Or will the timeless spirit of these temples be buried beneath the weight of modern borders?” The answer depends on whether we see them merely as stones to be owned, or as sacred legacies to be honoured.

Prasat Preah Vihear Temple