As Thailand prepares to host the 2025 SEA Games this December, a controversy has emerged over the use of the term “Muay” instead of “Muaythai” for the boxing event.
Some argue that dropping “Thai” strips the sport of its national identity, given that Muaythai is widely regarded as Thailand’s national martial art.
The issue has now reached Parliament, where Tourism and Sports Minister Artthakorn Sirilatthayakorn vowed to push the SEA Games Council to restore the term “Muaythai” to the listing, claiming it represents Thailand’s soft power and national heritage.
Such remarks, however, reflect a troubling pattern — one that prioritises nationalist sentiment over sound reasoning and global perspective.
Sport, by its very nature, is universal. Turning an international competition into a platform for asserting national ownership risks alienating neighbours and undermining regional unity.
Thailand has long sought to globalise Muaythai. The sport has gained widespread recognition, with training camps around the world and thousands of foreign practitioners embracing the art. Yet it has never fully crossed over into the global mainstream.
Private promoters have succeeded where governments have not, adapting the discipline for broader audiences, as seen in ONE Championship, while officialdom clings stubbornly to symbols of national pride rather than evolving with the times.
Insisting that the SEA Games must label the sport “Muaythai” may satisfy patriotic pride, but it risks confining the art within national borders. If Thailand truly wants its martial art to flourish internationally, openness, not ownership, is the path forward.
The word “Muay” — meaning boxing — is itself Thai, and perfectly sufficient. Other nations’ martial arts such as taekwondo, judo and karate have achieved global recognition without constant reference to their countries of origin.
Moreover, insisting on the term “Muaythai” could even prompt boycotts from countries such as Cambodia and Laos, which claim their own traditional forms of the sport under different names. Such a move would risk turning what should be a celebration of unity into a clash of national pride.
This debate is not new. At the previous SEA Games two years ago, Cambodia stirred controversy by branding its boxing event “Kun Khmer.” Thailand protested at the time, calling for fair recognition. It would now be inconsistent and unwise for Thailand, as host, to repeat such a divisive and unacceptable move.
Fortunately, Chaiyapak Siriwat, vice president and chief operating officer of the Southeast Asian Games Federation, confirms the official term this year will remain simply “Muay”.
That decision deserves full support. It reflects maturity and respect for sporting spirit, rather than a shallow nationalism that serves no one.
A useful precedent can be found in the compromise over Sepak Takraw, a sport jointly claimed by Malaysia and Thailand. In the end, both sides accepted the hybrid name “Sepak Takraw,” allowing the sport to grow without contention and creating a true win-win outcome.
Muaythai is, without question, a source of national pride. But pride must never outweigh the essence of sport — unity, health, inspiration, and friendship. The government and its sports authorities should remember that spreading Thai culture through sport requires humility, not hegemony.