Kok Edoi: Emblematic Case of Peasant Autonomy and Re-Peasantization in the Struggle for Land in Thailand

Abstract

We document and analyze an emblematic case study of non-indigenous peasant autonomy and re-peasantization in Sa Kaeo province in the Issan region of Thailand, using a mostly qualitative, single case-study methodology. The Kok Edoi autonomous community, whose members engage in community forest management and increasingly in agroecological farming, was founded more than twenty-five years ago as the product of a land occupation by landless peasants associated with the national Thai social movement, the Assembly of the Poor (AoP), which is part of the global peasant movement, La Via Campesina (LVC). Partially inspired by opportunities given to the community and to AoP by LVC to learn and gain inspiration from Latin American experiences such as the Zapatistas in Mexico, Kok Edoi autonomy exemplifies how the exchange of social movement knowledge and experience can help shape and strengthen local struggles, and it is also suggestive of autonomy as an alternative pathway of resistance and sustainable development in Thailand. We review the literature on territorial autonomy, re-peasantization, and community forestry and autonomy in Thailand and the world. Situating Kok Edoi in Thai history concerning policies and conflicts around land and forests, we examine the type, dimensions, and facets of autonomy and re-peasantization present in Kok Edoi to demonstrate how these factors contribute to the community being considered an emblematic case of peasant autonomy, peasant land occupation, peasant management of and livelihood derived from natural resources, more autonomous alternative markets, collective accumulation, and political training and mobilization that contributes to a class-based national movement. This is novel in an academic literature that has to date focused principally on indigenous autonomy, largely in Latin America.

1. Introduction

“Kok Edoi shows that it is possible to confront dispossession and build autonomy. Their history is marked by dignity, solidarity, and hope. Today, 53 families live, farm, and resist in Kok Edoi. They are living proof that the land is not given away: it is recovered, defended, and cultivated. Faced with the abandonment of the State and the advance of extractivist companies, they built their own path.” La Via Campesina, 2025

[1]

In this paper we document and analyze an emblematic case study of non-indigenous peasant autonomy and re-peasantization in Sa Kaeo province in the Issan (northeastern) region of Thailand [1]. The Kok Edoi community, whose members engage in community forest management and small-scale farming, was founded more than twenty-five years ago as the product of a land occupation by landless peasants associated with the national Thai social movement, the Assembly of the Poor (AoP) [2], which is part of the global peasant movement, La Via Campesina (LVC) [3,4]. Under constant threat of eviction and unable to obtain the legal recognition of the land that they sought from the state, they began a process of internal organization and collective, democratic self-governance.

When LVC invited AoP in 2007 to send delegates to Chiapas, Mexico, for a peasant-to-peasant exchange with the indigenous Zapatista movement, one of the leaders of Kok Edoi was invited to participate and spent almost two weeks learning firsthand about the widely recognized process of Zapatista autonomy [5]. This exchange strengthened the notion of self-government and autonomy from the state that was already gelling in the Kok Edoi collectivity [6] and contributed to their becoming a remarkably successful case of peasant autonomy and re-peasantization in the face of an unfriendly state and predatory private sector. It is a case partially based on concrete dialog with Latin American indigenous and peasant autonomy, via a transnational social movement.

AoP has for more than two decades formed part of LVC, and in the early 2000s it was part of the Internacional Coordination Committee (ICC) of the global movement, representing the peasant organizations of East and Southeast Asia. LVC is a space where peasant movements from around the world meet each other to carry out a collective reading of the ever-evolving international context for peasant struggle, develop consensus political positions, plan joint actions, and create international peasant training programs in peasant politics, land struggle tactics, peasant feminism, and agroecology, among other topics, and many international exchanges of experiences are carried out [7]. This permits what is called “diálogo de saberes” in Spanish, or the exchange of different knowledges, experiences, and wisdoms, summarized as:

A collective construction of emergent meaning based on dialogue between people with different historically specific experiences, cosmovisions, and ways of knowing, particularly when faced with new collective challenges in a changing world. Such dialog is based on exchange among differences and on collective reflection, often leading to emergent re-contextualization and re-signification of knowledges and meanings related to histories, traditions, territorialities, experiences, processes, and actions. The new collective understandings, meanings, and knowledge may form the basis for collective actions of resistance and construction of new processes.

[7] (p. 982)

One issue that has received considerable attention in terms of exchanges, trainings, and collective construction of new knowledge is that of agrarian reform and the defense of land and territory. Among the topics addressed are strategies and tactics of peasant land occupations and how families should organize themselves on occupied land [8].

Although Thailand did engage in limited agrarian reforms in the 20th century to combat Communist Party of Thailand (CPT) insurgencies, partially at the behest of the United States, who wanted the government to pacify areas being used as bases for the war against Vietnam, these did little to address the magnitude of the issue of access to land for peasants and traditional peoples [9]. Driven by the hunger for land and partially inspired by exchanges through LVC with the Landless Workers’ Movement (MST) of Brazil, a variety of Thai peasant organizations, with varied degrees of success and failure, carried out numerous land occupations, peaking in the late 1990s and early 2000s, while continuing to the present day [10,11,12]. Most of the peasants engaged in these occupations and their organizations chose to negotiate with the state, sometimes achieving limited community land titles, while often facing jail and lawsuits [11,12,13]. Kok Edoi offers us a case in which frustration with the state led to a turn toward autonomy.

The Kok Edoi example dialogs with the growing scientific literature on such autonomy processes in Latin America and elsewhere [14,15,16,17]. In the present paper, we historicize and document this experience and analyze it in relation to the contemporary literature on peasant and indigenous autonomy and on re-peasantization. Given the tendency to see contemporary peasant and indigenous autonomy as a Latin American phenomenon, it is important to document significant cases from other regions.

Furthermore, a significant controversy exists in Thailand and around the world about forest people—peasants, indigenous, and traditional peoples—and forest management. The dominant conservation paradigm, which, as we see in Section 3 below, is very important in Thai policymaking, holds that forest people represent a threat to the integrity of forests. In many countries, including Thailand, this has been used as a justification for evicting forest dwellers from the forest to “protect” the forest. However, social movements of forest peoples claim that this is just a pretext, and in reality, when conservation creates “forests without people,” those forests are much more susceptible to illegal logging, mining and tourism concessions, and other forms of capitalist extractivism that truly destroy forests. This debate makes forests political, leading to the term ‘political forests’ [18].

Rather than subjecting forests to capitalist extraction, peoples’ movements in Thailand and around the world argue that forest peoples are in fact the “guardians of the forest” [19], that they take care of the forest, and that their livelihoods depend on their traditional methods of sustainable management of the forest [20,21,22]. In Latin America there are a number of cases that merge territorial autonomy with sustainable forest management by indigenous peasants [21,23]. As we shall see below, making the point that autonomous peasants can sustainably manage the forest has provided the people of Kok Edoi with an important motivation and argument in favor of their autonomy.

Structure of this article: In the following Section 2 we review key concepts of autonomy and re-peasantization. In Section 3 we review the historical Thai context of struggle over land and forests in which our case study is situated. Section 4 is a brief note on the methodology we employed. In Section 5 we present the results of our research in terms of the history and characterization of Kok Edoi, including the facets and dimensions of autonomy and re-peasantization that it exemplifies. In the concluding Section 6 we reflect on autonomy, re-peasantization, and alternative development, putting the Kok Edoi case in dialogue with the literature.

2. Key Concepts and Theory: Peasant and Indigenous Territorial Autonomy and Re-Peasantization

In this study we focus on forms of local territorial autonomy based on community self-determination, collective self-government, mutual assistance, and relative independence from the state and the capitalist economies that threaten community life in rural areas (The peasant and indigenous territorial agrarian autonomies we discuss in this paper should not be confused with the unrelated and contentious debate and literature concerning the question of separatism and possible legal recognition for the regional political autonomy of the Deep South provinces of Thailand [24]). Communities and movements of indigenous people and peasants try to build such local autonomies to defend themselves from the social, cultural, economic, and environmental ravages of extractivist capitalism.

2.1. Strengths and Weaknesses in Community Processes

The underlying notion, according to Rosset and Barbosa [14], is that of building autonomies to try to recover collective strength under structural conditions that have weakened communities. These authors argued that during the COVID-19 pandemic, peasant and indigenous communities were more or less cut off from markets for both their harvests and for agricultural inputs, from public and private services including health, and from the decision-making and rule enforcement normally conducted by government officials, etc. They interpret this cutoff as a pedagogical moment that revealed the strengths and weaknesses of rural communities when left on their own. What proved to characterize their weakness was dependence on external forces, and their strength proved to lie with their ability to self-organize and solve their problems themselves:

Among the dependencies evidenced by the pandemic, we can identify the great fragilities inherent in a food and agriculture model based on long-distance transport, which triggered a discontinuity in terms of processed and packaged food available in rural towns and in the distribution of external inputs for local agriculture. Also, we saw dependence on intermediaries and agribusiness value chains, which normally buy the crops and animals raised in peasant territories but stopped showing up and buying the production; dependence on public and private health systems, which had placed almost no clinics, let alone intensive care units, in rural areas; dependence on governments that did not implement quarantines in the small cities and towns of the countryside; and dependence on politicians and political parties that forgot about rural people during the crisis… At the same time, the pandemic made visible a world of capacities and strengths in terms of production and local economy, self-provisioning, collective self-defense [against criminal gangs], collective healthcare, and even self-government, all in the face of the institutional abandonment of communities.

[pp. 46, 48–49]

In their analysis, weakness is associated with dependence and heteronomy, as opposed to capacity for self-reliance, independence, and autonomy, which are associated with strength. In other words, what Spinoza [25] and then Giraldo [24] call potestas (external power) represents weakness, and potencia (internal strength) equates with strength:

While we have argued extensively in terms of the fragility and weakness generated by dependence on external actors, another interesting way of addressing the difference between states of autonomy and states of heteronomy, to use the language of Spinoza, is between potentia (internal power) and potestas (regulation by external power). The question is not only: on whom do you depend? but also: what is the power that you practice? In this sense, we have argued that a more explicit “autonomy turn” could liberate much more of the potentialities (potentia) of the movements.

[p. 71]

In synthesis, rural communities and rural social movements can strengthen themselves to the extent that they can create more autonomy from the state, markets, and elites.

2.2. Territorial Autonomy in Critical Agrarian Studies

Peasant and indigenous forms of territorial autonomy are an increasingly important area of research within critical agrarian studies. As argued by Martínez-Navarette and Stahler-Sholk [26] in their introduction to part 1 of a 2024 double special issue of Latin American Perspectives entitled Indigenous Autonomies Confronting Contemporary Captialism:

Indigenous autonomies, as a set of diverse organizational practices that can be understood in relation to long and heterogeneous traditions of resistance, burst into prominence in the Latin American panorama at the turn of the century as a response to the political economic transformations of the continent that exacerbated exploitation, territorial dispossession, and inequality. One of the triggers behind this upsurge is the current phase of global capitalism in its neoliberal form and the escalation of what is known as “accumulation by dispossession”.

[pp. 4–5]

Vergara-Camus and Jansen [27], in their introduction to the 2022 special issue of the Journal of Agrarian Change titled Autonomy in Agrarian Studies, Politics and Movements [15], write:

Within peasant movements, especially but not exclusively in Latin America, the concept has referred to the ability of peasants to mount collective responses to the dominant actors in the market or within the state and remain independent from political parties or politicians… Within critical agrarian studies, the backdrop to the discussion on autonomy has been the growing transnationalization of national food regimes, the rise of agribusiness, increased market concentration of downstream and upstream activities in agriculture, the privatization of natural resources, and the exponential growth of extractive industries that are displacing rural populations and polluting their ecosystems. The corollary to this image is often the shrinking market space for small-scale producers, the increased reliance on labor migration for rural households, and the general precariousness of rural livelihoods… To this picture one must add the recent rise of authoritarian agrarian populism that simply accelerates these processes and represses attempts to resist them. Consequently, the challenge for critical agrarian scholars interested in autonomy has been centered on characterizing the nature of peasant households and indigenous communities and their place within capitalist development. One of the foci of this is to analyze the ability of these rural subjects to reproduce themselves partly through non-capitalist relations and to defend their cultural distinctiveness through their struggles for autonomy… This can help to determine whether they can resist the dominant trends and build an alternative to them.

[p. 456]

Rosset and Barbosa [14,28] explain that the notion of peasant autonomy—as central to the self-protection of communities and territories from predatory states, companies, and landowners, offering alternatives to feudalism, capitalism, and even orthodox socialism—has been debated since at least the late 19th and early 20th centuries by anarchists like Bakunin and Kropotkin, then by agrarian neo-populists like Chayanov, and was defended by Marx in his late-in-life letters to the Russian populist Vera Zasulich [29,30]. From a contemporary perspective, the territorial dimension is becoming increasingly central to the struggle of agrarian movements, above all because they understand that agrarian issues are no longer limited to land tenure itself, which may be achieved through agrarian reform. The territorialization dynamics of large corporations are linked to the financialization of nature, in which all biodiversity, water, land, sun, wind, and minerals are recognized as highly lucrative [31]. Therefore, the contemporary agrarian question shifts the meaning of the struggle for land to territory [8] and paves the way for theoretical-political debate on autonomy not only in the context of the indigenous struggle but also among other agrarian movements.

2.3. Types and Facets or Dimensions of Territorial Autonomy

The vast Latin American literature on (mostly) indigenous processes of territorial autonomy shows that autonomy is a polysemic concept and practice [32], yet this literature also makes it possible to distinguish different types or categories of autonomy. Although the types and categories may be contradictory and overlapping in practice, it is useful to identify the main categories of differentiation as a heuristic method to help situate the characteristics of the specific case of Kok Edoi in the larger landscape of autonomies.

Rosset and Barbosa explain that, while movements of indigenous peoples in Latin America have been demanding and building territorial autonomies more prominently and over a longer time than have non-indigenous peasant organizations, both explicit and especially implicit autonomy are increasingly part of the repertory of these peasant struggles as well. An explicit autonomy is one in which a movement openly calls for autonomy and uses the word as a “banner of struggle”, while implicit autonomy refers to cases where various dimensions of autonomy are present in a movement that nevertheless does not openly refer to autonomy as such. We might call these ‘Autonomy with a capital A,’ versus ‘autonomy with a lowercase a.’

Another distinction is between ethnic, and particularly monoethnic, autonomies, which privilege specific ethnic groups within their territories and which are often demanded by, and sometimes granted by states to, indigenous peoples, versus what Barbosa and Rosset [5] call class, popular, or people’s autonomy, in which local collective self-governance is built by poor people and is independent of ethnic adscription and thus is class-based.

Some autonomies are granted by states through constitutional reforms, decrees, or secondary laws. These are usually concessions made by governments after decades of struggle by subaltern peoples for territorial self-determination, created by states as mechanisms of social control, demobilization, and contention, via the incorporation of movements that are “uncomfortable” for the state and ruling elites into some kind of “mainstream” governance regime (of course, not only subaltern people are involved in struggles for (political) autonomy. Often we have class alliances or nationalist autonomy movements spearheaded by the middle class [33]. However, in this paper we are referring to peasant and indigenous subaltern autonomies). These inevitably imply tradeoffs for the movements and peoples involved, as they must moderate their demands in exchange for recognition, their autonomy often being reduced to cultural and religious freedoms along with limited self-government that usually does not include control of valuable resources like petroleum or minerals [34,35,36]. These are what Burguete Cal y Mayor [37] and Rosset and Barbosa [14,28] call de jure autonomies, in contrast to de facto, or radical, autonomies, which neither seek nor receive (due to many frustrated attempts) recognition from the state. The latter are “forms of …resistance that challenge the state itself and question the legitimacy and legality of its institutions. Therefore, they break with the legal order of the state and build their own institutions” [14] (p. 58).

Another important distinction is that which varies along a continuum from more complete autonomies, which address many or most of the possible facets or dimensions of autonomy (see below), versus more partial autonomies, which address only one or a few facets or dimensions [14].

Among the dimensions or facets of territorial autonomy provided by Rosset and Barbosa [14] and added to by the present authors to create a preliminary and non-exhaustive list are:

• Agroecological production, which can reduce dependence on markets for external inputs like chemical fertilizer and pesticides and recover, mobilize, and capitalize upon local knowledge of traditional production practices. This can be extended to seed autonomy, in which local crop varieties are identified, recovered, multiplied, and exchanged, reducing dependence on the commercial seed industry and providing local people with seeds that are more compatible with agroecological production.
• The recovery and use of traditional medicine, like herbal medicine, as well as training local people in health care, both of which can reduce dependence on external public and private health care providers.
• Diverse forms of collective self-government, decision-making, and management, reducing dependence on external governmental structures, officials, politicians, and political parties.
• The development of local markets and other alternative marketing channels as a way of exerting more local control over market conditions and reducing dependence and vulnerability to external market forces and actors like intermediaries.
• Collective defense of territory, whether to face threats like criminal gangs or natural disasters like forest fires, floods, etc., reducing dependence on state security apparatuses, which often favor private sector land grabbers and destroyers of the environment over local defenders of land and forests.
• Local mechanisms for the resolution of disputes and the administration of justice, to reduce dependence on external justice systems, which are often difficult and/or expensive to access and can discriminate against local people.
• Local savings, loan, and investment funds, to reduce dependence on external financial services.
• Land occupations (“agrarian reform from below”) to address landlessness and near landlessness, thus reducing dependence on government land reform programs, which normally never or rarely act to actually redistribute land.
• Autonomous community management of natural resources like biodiversity, forests, and water to prevent depredation by private legal or illegal actors, who are often protected by corrupt officials, reducing dependence on such officials. This is often based on local knowledge instead of externally imposed and often inappropriate so-called “technical knowledge.”
• The creation of autonomous local schools and technical and political training programs to reduce the ideological impacts and poor quality of public schooling in rural villages, which typically reinforces the outmigration of youth to the city. Political training can strengthen the mobilization capacity of the larger movements that local autonomies may be part of, because local people will have a higher level of political training and awareness. Finally, technical training, for example in agroecology, local seeds, traditional medicine, etc., can generate less dependence on external actors who often impose inappropriate, exogenous practices.
• The strengthening of the spiritual and cultural dimensions of peasant and indigenous life, to reduce the impact of the mass consumption and materialist capitalist society.
• Building own national and international social movements and solidarity networks provides more political autonomy and political strength, while reducing dependence on politicians and political parties.
• Etc.

These and other facets can be thought of as building diverse forms of autonomy that we call land or territorial autonomy, political autonomy and self-government, productive autonomy, food autonomy, economic autonomy and local economy, marketing autonomy, security autonomy, health autonomy, autonomy in the administration of justice, financial autonomy, educational autonomy, technical sovereignty, cultural autonomy, spiritual autonomy, etc.

Barbosa and Rosset [5] emphasize that diverse forms of collective accumulation (local savings funds, collective production areas, etc.) strengthen local autonomy much more than individual accumulation. In referring to Zapatista autonomy, they argue that:

Collective herds of cattle in each community represent a “collective accumulation.” When the authorities and the assembly decide by consensus in favor of some community investment, they can sell one or more cows to cover the cost. In the same way, the herd functions as “collective insurance” for the community. When a family’s house is destroyed by a fire, the assembly decides to sell cows for reconstruction. Or when someone gets sick or has an accident and has a condition so serious that the autonomous health system (which even has regional hospitals) cannot resolve it, the person is taken to the city in an autonomous ambulance, and one or more cows are sold to pay for the treatments… The Zapatista economy is based on collective accumulation, while the non-Zapatista economy is based on individual accumulation. However, individual accumulation is often not “real” accumulation, since even though the money from government social programs flows to the non-Zapatista family bank accounts in fairly large quantities, it goes out even faster in the consumption of alcohol and other drugs, in the increased prices of basic foodstuffs and medicines, in frivolous consumption, and in all the other “evils” that accompany the insertion of the poor into the capitalist economy. Meanwhile, collective accumulation provides a great capacity to mobilize. For example, the massive 2012 March of Silence, when thousands of Zapatistas marched silently through various cities in Chiapas, was made possible by the hundreds of vans of the Zapatista transport societies and cooperatives, which not only brought people to the city for the march but also sacks of food from the autonomous collective warehouses.

[pp. 41,44]

2.4. Autonomy as a Category of Analysis and Strategy of Struggle

Rosset and Barbosa [14,28] propose that the concepts of relative autonomy and the facets or dimensions of autonomy can serve as a category of analysis. For example, in studying a particular community-level process, a question that can be asked is, how autonomous is it? and/or how externally dependent is it? and along which dimensions or through which facets is this autonomy expressed? For example, if two community agroecology processes [38] are compared, one where peasants use their own saved seeds versus one in which peasants depend on expensive, externally purchased commercial seeds, we might conclude that the first community is relatively more autonomous along the axis of seed sovereignty.

The same authors also argue that building local autonomy in its home territories can make a regional or national peasant or indigenous social movement more powerful in confronting the state. As shown in the Zapatista example above, having autonomous transportation and food reserves can allow a rural movement to mobilize more people for a protest march in the city. By the same token, if people in its home villages are indebted, individualized, conditioned by government social and cash transfer programs to only attend meetings if payment is offered, have internalized the dominant capitalist and consumerist mentality, and produce under contract for transnational companies, etc., then the movement will be weak in its home base in the villages, what the authors use military terminology to call its “rear guard.” When government officials know that the movement is weak, they will automatically concede less in negotiations, while on the contrary, if a movement is strong and they fear its mobilization capacity, then they are likely to accede to more significant conquests of social and political struggle. Thus, the authors propose building autonomies as a key strategy for rural social movements to make them stronger when they confront the state.

2.5. Peasant Autonomy as Re-Peasantization

The literature on peasant autonomy runs virtually in parallel to the literature on what van der Ploeg [39] and Rosset and co-authors [40,41] call re-peasantization. Collectively returning to a condition of being more peasant, from having lost many dimensions of peasantness (de-peasantization) due to the penetration of capitalism into the rural economy and ways of life, is closely related to, or even inextricable from, becoming more autonomous, as can be intuited from comparing the facets of dimensions of autonomy explained above to the dimensions of de-peasantization versus re-peasantization as shown in

Table 1. Idealized dimensions of de- and re-peasantization [41].

De-Peasantization	Re-Peasantization
Community disintegration	Community (re)organization
Displacement	Permanence in and/or return to the countryside
Green Revolution Monoculture Agrochemicals Hybrid and GMO seeds Land degradation Competition and individualism	Agroecology Diversification Ecological soil and pest management Local seeds Taking care of Nature Solidarity and life in community
Food dependence and production exclusively for the market	Food sovereignty
Conventional rural schools	Autonomous or semi-autonomous schools
Imposed externally-driven economic dynamics	Recovery and strengthening of local economies
Ignorance of peasant rights	Recovery and strengthening of local economies
“Security” by police, military and paramilitaries	Self-defense
Imposed ideology from outside, false consciousness	Own ideology and comprehension of reality, class consciousness
Private health care, inadequate or absent public health care	Community and collective health care
Dependence on external public services	Autonomous, self-organized local services
Land grabbing	Defense of land & territory, and redistribution, “agrarian reform from below”

.

In other words, as communities and families recover dimensions of peasantness, they become more autonomous, and as they become more autonomous, they re-peasantize. A particular type of re-peasantization is that which occurs when peasants who have lost their land and become landless engage in land occupations as a way to re-peasantize [40]. Giraldo and Rosset [24,42] similarly identify relative autonomy and peasantness as key elements that give local, community, and territorial processes more emancipatory potential.

2.6. Peasant and Indigenous Autonomy in Thailand

In the particular case of Thailand, most of the discussion related to territorial autonomy and dimensions of autonomy has concerned indigenous, ethnic, and/or traditional peoples, sometimes called “hill tribes”, primarily but not exclusively in the Northern region [20,43,44,45,46,47,48]. Nevertheless, a few scholars, such as Thita Ornin [49,50] and Nalinee Tantuvanit [47], have addressed the kind of peasant autonomy we wish to analyze in the Kok Edoi case, that of communities and “movements whose objectives sought to change the socio-cultural, political, and economic relations of peasant societies to outside societies, and to develop or maintain peasant autonomy by decreasing the level of dependency on the state and capitalist structures” [p. 44].

Tantuvanit [47] studied two groups in the 1990s in the Issan region of Thailand. One was a local organization of land-poor and landless peasants in Saimoon village in Khon Kaen province (LRG), who were linked to the prior armed insurgency of the former CPT, to regional and national peasant mobilization, and to left politics in general. The other was the Buddhist Farming Group (BFG) of Gaya village in Buri Ram province, who had a more politically conservative ideological position. Despite these differences, both had various facets or dimensions of peasant autonomy and re-peasantization among their goals. The Saimoon organization sought to:

…empower peasants to be the active/conscious actors in changing the peasant-state-capitalist relationship and in changing their way of life. One of the group’s long-term goals is the restoration of peasants’ economic autonomy through the development of a strong network of peasants in the northeast and by establishing a northeastern peasant organization that could control most of the means of production, i.e., capital, labor, and markets. The members of LRG believe that a northeastern peasant organization should have its own savings and loan unit in order to reduce peasant’s dependence on state and capitalist financial institutions.

[p. 89]

In terms of the facets or dimensions of autonomy presented above, we can say that they reflect movement toward land, economic, political, and financial autonomy, configured in partial, non-ethnic, de facto, class-based, radical, or people’s autonomy.

In the case of the BFG, on the other hand,

They redefine freedom as autonomy/self-reliance and democracy as equality in the material and spiritual qualities of life… The BFG is attempting to eliminate peasant poverty by incorporating Buddhist ideology into everyday life and farm activities. Integrated farming has been reintroduced to middle-class peasants, who comprise the majority of Gaya peasants, in an effort to reach their long-term goal of creating a peasant consensus on the protection of economic autonomy. The BFG believes that autonomy will be protected by maintaining self-sufficiency in the production of food and other necessities for household consumption and by reducing dependency on the marketing system. While the LRG tries to compete with the capitalist system by creating a complete cycle of production, the BFG tries to detach peasants from the capitalist marketing system. The BFG focuses on the peasant community values of resource sharing and living a simple life.

[pp. 86,89]

They show dimensions of spiritual, production, economic, food, market, and communitarian autonomy, configured as partial, non-ethnic, de facto people’s, though not necessarily class-based, autonomy.

More recently, Ornin [50] studied three community processes in Sisaket province, also in Issan, including the Srisa Asoke Community and the Taam and People Association. Srisa is part of the politically conservative Asoke Buddhist network of:

…communities [that] adhere to fundamental Buddhist principles, emphasizing a humble lifestyle, communal sharing, diligent work ethic, perseverance, self-sufficiency, and willingness to make sacrifices… that extends beyond religious practices to encompass various aspects of life such as the economy, education, agriculture, relationship-building, and even politics… Comprising over 200 households, the community sustains itself through traditional farming, relying on the produce for their livelihood. They have established various essential services within the community, including a health and herbal center, school, supermarket, engineering workshop, and other facilities catering to their needs. Embracing the Buddhist philosophy of simplicity in living, self-reliance, and self-sufficiency, they sell surplus goods at discounted prices as a charitable business. Despite engaging in income-generating activities such as selling non-chemical consumer products, plants, and non-chemical food, the community places greater importance on ‘Boon’, or merit, than monetary considerations… The members of Asoke village practice mixed and non-chemical agriculture, with a combination of traditional knowledge and innovation. They consume their products within the community using the guiding concept of ‘common consumption’. Labor is shared and contributed for the joint livelihood while they rely on little cash… School education is designed to serve this lifestyle, but this is seen as problematic in relation to the mainstream education system. This system demonstrates action in favor of autonomy and the enhancement of a spiritual worldview.

[pp. 27–29]

The case is much like the BFG case and shows facets of spiritual, community, food, production, market, health, education, economy, and political autonomy. It is configured as partial, non-ethnic, de facto people’s, though not necessarily class-based, autonomy.

The Taam and People Association shares part of its membership with AoP, has contact with LVC, and is composed of local people displaced by the Rasi Salai Dam:

The Taam-Mun agriculture introduced in this case is principally seasonal and inextricably linked with the wetland ecosystem. Farmers practicing this form of agriculture have a diverse set of skills, embracing techniques of cultivation and foraging as well as traditional knowledge from both the natural and spiritual worlds… The conservation of Taam-Mun agriculture also represents an attempt to shift towards ecocentrism. The green market initiated by this group is led by women who are seen as activists attempting to create autonomy and emancipation from the mainstream food market. This case was selected to represent a peasant movement that operates with a mixture of Thai alternative agriculture as well as peasant’s solidarity discourses. It was selected…because of the political struggle at the core of the movement demonstrating the impulse towards autonomy; but the evidence of conformity with the state on the Sufficiency Economy Philosophy (SEP) agenda and the Royal Irrigation Department brings into question how the movement can really transform and emancipate.

[pp. 30–31]

The Taam and People Association example shows movement toward various facets of autonomy, including agroecology, local knowledge, and market, spiritual, and political dimensions, configured as multi-ethnic, partial, de facto, and relative autonomy, although the author notes a worrisome degree of conformity to certain state policies.

3. Context: Land, Forests, and Peasant Struggle in Thailand

3.1. Peasants, Politics, Land, and Forests in Thailand: A History of Conflicts

Access by peasants and traditional peoples to land and forests, as well as land and forest management, are longstanding and complex issues that have been enduring sources of conflict throughout the history of Thailand [51]. Key challenges include inefficiencies within government agencies, overlapping and inconsistent land management laws, and ongoing disputes between the state and local communities. These issues, alongside others, underscore the need for comprehensive agrarian reform and changes in land management practices [52].

Prior to 1932, Thailand operated under an absolute monarchy in which the king held sole ownership of all land, while the populace functioned as tenants, using the land primarily for subsistence. During the reign of King Rama V (1868–1910), a system of formal land ownership was introduced to align with Western standards and gain international recognition. This marked the initial phase of reformed land tenure policies in Thailand [51,52].

After World War II, particularly during the 1960s—a period designated as the “Decade of Development”—the United States expanded its military presence and influence, promoting development, including land reform, as a counter-ideology to communism [53].

The Thai government actively supported various dimensions of developmentalism, leading to a rapid expansion and transformation of land use under the productivist paradigm of the modernization of agriculture. Simultaneously, the government facilitated opportunities for both domestic and foreign investors to establish industrial plants aimed at processing agricultural products for export. These initiatives collectively contributed to the transformation of land use patterns and economic structures in Thailand [54].

During this period, the state began to expand the registration and titling of private land ownership. However, in remote areas, the process of issuing land title documents often lacked clarity, disproportionately affecting impoverished families. Many of these families faced challenges in securing legal tenure for land they had occupied for generations, with some ultimately losing their ancestral rights. In contrast, families with significant influence or power were often able to leverage their connections with government agencies and officials to obtain proper land documentation. This systemic inequality contributed to a persistent stark disparity in land tenure, as reflected in the Gini coefficient for titled land ownership, which has reached an alarmingly high level of 0.89. This figure underscores the severe concentration of land ownership and the inequitable distribution of land rights in Thailand [54].

To illustrate, data from 2012 on land ownership with title deeds reveals significant disparities. The smallest landowners collectively held approximately 232,790 rai (1 rai = 0.16 hectares) among 3.18 million individuals, while the largest landowner controlled 75 million rai. This means that the largest landholder possessed 325 times more land than all of those at the lowest end of the ownership spectrum, highlighting the profound inequality in land distribution [55].

The significant disparity in land ownership has frequently led to conflicts between government officials and local villagers [10]. Between 2014 and 2019, these tensions intensified as government agencies pursued legal action against alleged forest land encroachment. During this period, approximately 50,000 cases were filed against villagers, reflecting the escalating friction over land use and ownership rights [56]. These legal disputes highlight the broader challenges of balancing forest conservation efforts with the livelihood needs of rural communities [57,58,59].

Moreover, the prosecution of villagers has been justified as a national security concern. This is a long-term argument, as forests were seen as a refuge for CPT guerrillas in the 60s, 70s, and early 80s; later, forest-dwelling peoples were criminalized as drug traffickers, and in the 21st century, forest degradation and deforestation have been formulated as a national security issue, and forest people are now criminalized as the supposed destroyers of the forest. The state typically defines forests as critical conservation zones and defines villagers as agents of environmental degradation. This framing of rural communities as threats to national security only intensifies the long-term conflict between government authorities and local populations over land use and resource management [60].

In reality, the destruction of natural resources in Thailand can be traced back to the colonial era, particularly following the establishment of extensive trade relations with foreign nations starting in 1855. This period marked the opening of trade doors, which led to increased exploitation of natural resources to meet the demands of international markets. The shift in economic activities during this time laid the foundation for resource depletion and environmental challenges that persist to this day [61].

By the mid- to late 1970s, Thailand entered an era of conservation policy, driven by growing concerns over the rapid decline in forested areas. In response, the government, through the Forestry Department, designated large mountainous regions as conservation zones and deployed forest officers to oversee these areas, replacing the earlier reliance on military enforcement. However, the declaration of conservation zones often overlapped with land traditionally inhabited and cultivated by local villagers for generations. This overlap created significant tensions, as many residents faced displacement or restrictions on their livelihoods. By the early 1980s, these overlapping claims had escalated into widespread conflicts between villagers and forest officials, underscoring the complex challenges of balancing conservation goals with the rights and needs of local communities [54,60].

The decline in forest areas has led the state to adopt increasingly stringent measures and law enforcement against villagers, particularly those residing in forested regions. In this context, the government has often held local communities responsible for the degradation of natural resources, attributing the loss of forests primarily to their activities. This approach has fueled tensions between the state and the villagers, who argue that their traditional land use practices are being unfairly criminalized, while the state frames them as the primary threat to environmental conservation [62].

Over time the term “resource” was introduced by the state as a redefinition of “forest,” a shift that reflected broader economic and political interests. The concept of “resource” as redefined by the government encompasses various forms of property, such as trees, water, and land, which have become integral to the expansion of capitalism. This redefinition allowed for the exploitation of these resources, facilitating the involvement of the private sector through state-issued concessions. As a result, forests were no longer viewed solely as natural ecosystems but as valuable assets to be managed and profited from [62,63].

The environmental and natural resource conservation movement that gained momentum in the late 1970s led to significant opposition from civil society, prompting the state to ban logging in 1989. However, this decision was also used to further criminalize forest people, affecting many who had relied on forest resources for their livelihoods. In response, the government launched a project in 1990 to allocate arable land to impoverished communities living in degraded forest reserves. This initiative was managed by the Directorate of Internal Security of the Kingdom in collaboration with the Royal Forestry Department. Following the end of the Cold War, the National Security Agency began to redefine security concerns to include environmental and resource security. Additionally, addressing poverty became a central focus, as the government recognized the interconnectedness of these issues in the broader context of national stability and development [62,64]. This directly impacted the Kok Edoi area, according to one leader we interviewed:

In 1993, the government ordered the Border Patrol Police to prohibit villagers from entering their farming areas. They were then ordered to evacuate all residents. Anyone who violated the order was arrested and prosecuted, claiming permission had been granted by the Forestry Department since 1975 to use the area for training police cadets.

Following the coup d’état on 23 February 1991, security operations against supposed communist threats intensified, particularly affecting communities in the northeastern forest areas. In response, the impacted communities organized into the Isaan Forest and Land Problem Network, which later became the “Isaan Farmers Assembly for Recognition of Arable Land Rights and Natural Resources Restoration (SDT).” This assembly played a crucial role in advocating for negotiations and proposing solutions to the state, particularly through its involvement in the Constitution Drafting Council. Their efforts led to the inclusion of a provision recognizing “Community Rights” in the 1997 Constitution of the Kingdom of Thailand (B.E. 2540). This landmark provision granted local communities the right to participate alongside the state in the management and utilization of natural resources and the environment, marking a significant step towards recognizing the role of communities in environmental governance and resource management [62].

However, after the 2014 coup, under the leadership of General Prayuth Chan-ocha, there was a dramatic shift in the management of forests and land in forested areas. The government, under General Prayuth’s administration, strictly enforced the National Forestry Policy B.E. 2532 (1989), directing the National Forestry Authority to implement measures aimed at reclaiming forest land. These measures were carried out in accordance with NCPO Orders No. 64/2014 and 66/2014, with the primary objective of restoring 40 percent of the country’s forested areas. This approach signified a strong focus on forest conservation but also led to renewed tensions with local communities whose land rights were once again put into question [62,65].

The two NCPO orders issued after 2014—NCPO Orders No. 64/2014 and 66/2014—reflect a fundamental shift in the management of natural resources and the environment in Thailand. The power previously held by agencies such as the Department of Forestry, the Department of National Parks and Wildlife, and the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment was significantly diminished. Instead, control and oversight were transferred to the military, particularly through the National Security Council (NSC), which framed itself as the protector of natural resources. This shift was designed to garner legitimacy from the middle class, presenting the military as the rightful guardian of the nation’s environmental assets. At the same time, this transition resulted in the near-total exclusion of public sector participation in environmental governance. The military’s increasing role in resource management reflected a top-down approach, sidelining local communities and civil society in favor of a more centralized, security-driven model of resource control [66].

The 1997 Constitution of the Kingdom of Thailand recognized the principle of “community rights,” which was subsequently reinforced in the 2007 Constitution. This legal framework not only acknowledged the rights of local communities but also expanded their role in overseeing government projects that could impact them. It granted communities the power to investigate and participate in decisions regarding such projects. Additionally, the 2007 Constitution provided protections for the right to assemble, protest, and march, empowering citizens to express dissent and advocate for their interests. These provisions marked significant advancements in the promotion of participatory governance and the protection of community rights (Sumitchai Hattasan, cited in [62]).

3.2. Thai Peasant Movements and the Assembly of the Poor (AoP)

During the government of General Chatchai, a period marked by significant street politics and public sector movements, there was considerable mobilization from various grassroots groups. Following the popular uprising on 14 October 1973, the peasant movement primarily focused on disputes over farm rents, which were particularly prevalent in the northern and central regions where land ownership was highly concentrated. This movement initially took the form of scattered protests and marches, but over time, these efforts coalesced into organized groups that shared common grievances. These grassroots movements led to the formation of community networks, such as the Dam Assembly Network and the network of plantation parks, which eventually merged into the “Northern Farmers Network.” In the northeastern region, similar efforts resulted in the creation of the SDT. Another important collective emerged in the region known as the “Northeast Smallholder Farmers Assembly,” which played a vital role in advocating for land rights and environmental restoration. These networks were instrumental in pushing for broader recognition of farmers’ rights and environmental justice, shaping the political landscape of the time [67].

AoP, formed from some of these earlier groups plus others, identifies itself as “a network of poor villagers from various local communities who are affected by state development policies.” It highlights the ongoing struggle over natural resources, where the interests of the state, the private sector, and local villagers are in conflict. This struggle spans both rural and urban areas, with communities increasingly caught in the middle as they contend with the consequences of development that often prioritizes economic growth over the rights and well-being of marginalized populations. The assembly advocates for greater recognition of the needs and rights of these communities, emphasizing the centrality of natural resource access in their livelihoods [2,67,68].

The experience of AoP has led them to conclude that the conventional political system of representative democracy is inadequate for addressing the needs of marginalized communities. As a result, the Assembly argues that true access to societal resources and protection from the state and capital can only be achieved by creating power outside the established political framework. This vision is embodied in their advocacy for grassroots democracy, or “green politics.” Street protests have become a central tool for AoP as they work to amplify the voices of disadvantaged groups. Their method of struggle is termed “the entry into power of the poor,” with the core strategy being marches that empower people to engage in negotiations with the state. For AoP, the most significant form of activism is peaceful marches or assemblies, which serve both as a tactic and as an ultimate goal. Additionally, AoP employs mass media as a means to bridge the movement and the broader public, drawing attention to their cause. They also build alliances with various sectors, including student organizations, trade unions, and academic groups, to generate pressure on the government and amplify their demands [2,67,68].

The class-based tactics of AOP can be seen as a direct challenge to the established political system, with an emphasis on obstructing and questioning its legitimacy. The movement prioritizes the seriousness and commitment of its participants as a key factor in their struggle. As a result, the forms and methods of protest adopted by the Assembly are highly symbolic. This symbolic approach aligns with a society that has increasingly closed off channels for legitimate political participation. The more the state limits or suppresses avenues for political engagement, the more the movement has been compelled to seek alternative forms of protest, such as symbolic acts, to express dissent and assert its demands. This shift highlights the adaptive strategies of marginalized groups who, faced with systemic barriers, turn to visible and impactful forms of resistance to challenge the status quo [67].

4. Methodology

The emblematic Kok Edoi case of peasant struggle leading to autonomy and re-peasantization in Thailand was chosen to dialogue with the literature on peasant struggle around the world. A mostly qualitative, single-case study methodology was employed. Siggelkow [69] argues that “a single case can be a powerful example” (p. 20) and addresses questions of representativeness and selection bias by noting the value of unique cases as a way of constructing new knowledge. We follow Godek [70] in that “single-case study analysis was justified for this case due to its exploration of an emerging topic for which little empirical study existed at the onset of the research (and indeed at the time of the writing) and proved useful in terms of developing the field of inquiry and providing formative empirical research from which to grow the field” (p. 76). Emblematic case studies make it possible to ask how and why kinds of questions and serve as instructive examples [71].

The literature review and documentary analysis were guided by the vast expertise concerning peasant and indigenous autonomy, re-peasantization, and the global peasant movement of two of the authors, and by the deep knowledge of the history of development, land and forestry policies, and struggles in Thailand of the other two authors.

In order to document and analyze the history and dimensions of Kok Edoi, mainly through interviews and participant-observation, we visited the community six times during 2023 and 2024, where we conducted semi-structured interviews with 10 members of the community, chosen because they serve or have served on the community, market management, and saving committees, plus the villagers responsible for the water systems and for sanitation. We also held focus groups with the market and savings committees and engaged in participant observation at various Kok Edoi and national AoP activities, which provided many opportunities for informal conversations. We sat in on the day-long report by community leadership to villagers during the 13 January 2023 25th anniversary celebration of Kok Edoi, and we attended a 2-day session of the AoP national peasant agroecology school held in Kok Edoi in March of 2023. Affirmations not supported by references to specific interviews or literature are based on this participant observation. We also interviewed a national leader of AoP about the role of Kok Edoi in the national movement and interviewed a Kok Edoi leader on 22–23 October 2023 in Bangkok during an AoP sit-in protest in front of Government House. Finally, we administered a simple questionnaire to 44 community members to gather basic information about the villagers.

5. Results: History and Characterization of Kok Edoi

“Being a community that is not recognized by the government, the community must rely on itself… The community’s self-reliance allows the community to realize the potential of the people in the community and of the community itself, which is the result of the villagers’ joint efforts, forging a system of various relationships within the community, creating love and bonds as one, unity, and mutual support [translated by the authors].”

[72] (p. 1)

As shall be seen below, Kok Edoi’s effective collective community self-government and management ensure that its members generate income individually while engaging in collective accumulation, under a unique system not commonly found in other communities. Its success can be partly attributed to its independence from government oversight, with all management and monitoring handled internally by community members themselves. This unique approach has allowed Kok Edoi to thrive as a self-sufficient and autonomous community [73]. Kok Edoi community members told us with evident pride on several occasions that “Kok Edoi is not on any official map in Thailand,” and that “Kok Edoi has received no funding whatsoever from the government of Thailand,” much in line with some of the cases of radical autonomy in Latin America.

5.1. Kok Edoi Today

Kok Edoi currently counts 54 associated families as its members. In 2023 we applied a questionnaire to a sample of 44 individuals from those families.

Table 2. Selected community characteristics from the 2023 survey by the authors.

	Number	Percent
Gender
Man	27	61.4
Women	17	38.6
Total	44	100
Age
under 18	0	0
19–24	0	0
25–60	30	68.2
over 60	14	31.8
Total	44	100
Education level
Elementary school or less	33	78.6
Secondary school	8	19
Associate degree or equivalent	0	0
Vocational Certificate	0	0
Bachelor degree	1	2.4
Postgraduate	0	0
Total	42	100
Have home in Kok Edoi
Yes	1	2.3
No	43	97.7
Total	44	100
Have home in nearby village
Yes	40	90.1
No	4	8.9
Total	44	100
Have farm in Kok Edoi
Yes	5	11.4
No	39	88.6
Total	44	100
Have farm outside kok Edoi
Yes	37	94.9
No	2	5.1
Total	39	100
Average family income (baht)
<50,000	18	42.9
50,001–150,000	14	33.3
150,001–300,000	5	11.9
300,001–500,000	4	9.5
500,000>	1	2.4
Total	42	100
Have savings
In bank	11	26.2
In Kok Edoi community funds	37	88.1
Save cash	6	14.3
Other	2	4.8
Participate in Kok Edoi decisions
Yes	0	0
No	44	100
Total	44	100
Use community irrigation
Yes	15	34.1
No	29	65.9
Total	44	100
Use community forest
Yes	20	45.5
No	24	54.5
Total	44	100

presents selected results as a characterization of the community.

In general terms, we can say that community members have houses both in Kok Edoi and in the neighboring villages (where most of them lived after the first eviction and before the land occupation). The overall level of formal education is low, yet as we will see below, this has not prevented them from creating and implementing a complex system of collective self-government, decision-making, and community management. They have almost no land outside Kok Edoi; that is, they were landless peasants before the occupation. Most of them have access to land in Kok Edoi, participate in collective governance and decision-making, have savings in the Kok Edoi collective funds, and use the community irrigation, and more than half participate in the community forest.

5.2. Founding of Kok Edoi

The Kok Edoi community was established via a land occupation in 1997 by a group of landless individuals and families displaced by the state, following the emblematic 99-day protest by AoP in Bangkok [67]. Most of them were members of six villages in Thapparat Sub-district, Ta Phraya District, Sa Kaeo Province, near the Cambodian border. Earlier in the decade, they had been evicted from their original farm and forest land because the Border Patrol Police wanted it for training for ongoing border conflicts [72].

In 1997, close to the historic peak of peasant land occupations in Thailand, the villagers occupied a plot of land near a significant water source. Initially, the occupation aimed solely at securing land for farming and awaiting resolution of their issues. However, in 1999, it was discovered that the land had been sold by local residents to a private company, which began clearing the area to plant eucalyptus trees.

That year, the Kok Edoi villagers resisted by reclaiming the land, moving huts at night to occupy eucalyptus plantation plots. They formally reported the land encroachment to the provincial forestry office, leading to a court ruling that placed the area under the jurisdiction of the Royal Forestry Department [73].

According to LVC [1], which considers Kok Edoi to be emblematic of successful peasant struggle:

In the 1990s, around 400 people settled on the 366-acre Kok Edoi estate. They faced companies holding land concessions and a state quick to defend those corporate interests. Between 1993 and 1996, border police persecuted and harassed peasant families, confiscating tools, destroying crops, and attempting to evict them with the use of laws made to benefit the powerful: “They took away our tools, but not our will.” At that moment, they learned about other peasant struggles, like the resistance against a dam in a nearby province. This became their first spark of inspiration. Motivated, they decided to join the movement and reached out to the Assembly of the Poor (AOP): “There we learned to organize, not to be afraid, and to resist together. They taught us to unite and to fight.”

LVC goes on to explain:

With the help of AOP, they collected evidence, maps, and documents that demonstrated the historical presence of more than 400 homes in the area. In 1996, they presented the case to the prime minister. There was no response. Then, under another government, they organized a mass demonstration. The state still did not offer a real solution, but the community was no longer alone. In the absence of an institutional response, they made the riskiest decision: to occupy the land. They knew that everything was at stake. The land was arid, dry, and ‘unfit,’ according to authorities. And perhaps that is why they let them stay ‘for a week.’ But that week was 27 years ago. The conflicts did not cease. The concessionaire company continued to claim the land and tried to manipulate former inhabitants into opposing the occupation. The government did not intervene. The community responded with more organization: they drew up a collective plan, divided the land, and established themselves. They decided to build their homes on the company’s eucalyptus plantations, sending a clear message: “here we are, and here we stay.”

According to one Kok Edoi leader:

The Assembly of the Poor’s method of struggle involved gathering a list of 394 names of those suffering and presenting their problems to the government. The first meeting took place on 4 July 1996, at Nakhon Ratchasima City Hall, when then-Prime Minister Banharn Silpa-archa was present. On 24 January 1997, there was discussion of a rally at Government House until a conclusion was reached. At that time, it was called the “Border Patrol Police Overlapping Group.” The rally on 24 January 1997, marked the first time Khok E Doi officially joined the Assembly of the Poor.

[6]

5.3. Failed Negotiations and the Decision to Become Autonomous

In 2007, the community proposed an agreement to the government to remove eucalyptus trees from the land under the Forestry Department’s supervision. Despite the agreement’s clear operational framework, the government failed to act. In response, Kok Edoi residents decided to withhold the eucalyptus timber and ceased negotiations with the government. They drafted a written agreement with the Ministry of Natural Resources and Environment to remove the eucalyptus trees and allow temporary land use. Around this time, the community shifted its approach. They began planning for their own equitable land distribution (“land reform from below” and self-reliance without relying on state intervention. The concept of land use planning was formalized, and by 2009, the community had initiated development plans rooted in autonomy and self-management [6]:

The march to Bangkok. In 2007, during a military government, the community decided to take a new step: to walk to Bangkok. They did so to demand their right to cultivate the land. Although they tried to arrest them, they managed to negotiate with the provincial governor, who provided them with transportation to reach the capital. The action had an effect: they obtained a permit to cultivate and fell eucalyptus trees, a symbol of corporate extractivism. But with each change of government, the threat returned. That is why they made a radical decision: to stop negotiating with the State. From then on, their struggle would be completely self-managed: “We realized that the government was not on our side. So we decided to organize ourselves.”

[1]

In the Kok Edoi experience, as in many cases in Latin America, the decision to become autonomous is the result of a critical awareness of the limits of negotiation with governments or even of a radical critique of the state, viewing it as a political entity created to regulate political forces under the dynamics favorable to capital. Therefore, autonomy emerges from the desire to break away from dependence on the state, governments, and the ‘political game’.

On the other hand, it is not enough to simply reach this critical awareness of the antagonisms in the relationship between the state and civil society. Building a process of autonomy requires a collective, self-managed, and organic organization to sustain autonomy on a daily basis in a participatory, creative, and horizontal fashion. In this endeavor it is helpful to incorporate lessons learned from the history of struggle of other organizations and movements, identifying the elements that nourish one’s own conception of autonomy and, equally important, understanding it as a process that has its own rhythms, internal and external dynamics, agreements, etc.

5.4. The Influence of the Zapatistas in Mexico

The decision on becoming autonomous was influenced by the crucial exchange with the Zapatista movement in Chiapas, Mexico. In 2007 Kok Edoi leader Mr. Uthai Sa-ad-chob was one of three representatives from AoP who were part of a delegation from LVC that attended the two-week Second Encounter of the Zapatista Peoples with the Peoples of the World in Chiapas [6,74]. Through these interactions, the community’s leaders gained insights into innovative organizational strategies, autonomy, participatory governance, and the importance of empowering grassroots initiatives. The Zapatista movement demonstrated how strong, inclusive leadership could mobilize collective action to address systemic challenges and build sustainable solutions. While they had already more or less decided to become autonomous of the government, seeing the Zapatista experience “convinced us that we were on the right track, making us firmer in our decision” [6].

The exchange emphasized the role of leaders not only as decision-makers but also as facilitators who encourage active participation from all community members. Inspired by the Zapatista approach, Kok Edoi’s leaders have adopted practices that foster greater inclusivity and cooperation while striving to balance traditional community values with decision-making based on debate and consensus.

The Kok Edoi community shares several similarities with the Zapatista movement, particularly in the origins of the challenges faced by their respective regions, which stem from systemic actions imposed by the state. Some parallels include the socio-economic struggles experienced by the local population, their collective awakening, and the efforts to learn from the Zapatista movement’s operational strategies. Kok Edoi’s primary goal in engaging with the Zapatista movement was to gain insights that could be adapted to their own context. However, not all aspects of the Zapatista model could be fully integrated into Kok Edoi’s framework [6]. For example, Zapatistas have an armed, indigenous peasant army, while Kok Edoi and AoP do not. For physically demanding tasks, the community provides monetary compensation—a practice distinct from the Zapatista movement, where labor is exchanged without financial remuneration. In Kok Edoi, this form of labor exchange is practiced occasionally and on a case-by-case basis.

The exchange of knowledge with the Zapatista movement significantly enhanced Kok Edoi’s ability to address local challenges. By observing and learning from the Zapatista approach, the community gained valuable strategies for tackling their own issues effectively.

5.5. Transition to Community Forests

Following the initial division of land into family plots of approximately three rai (0.48 hectares) each, the villagers faced challenges from the depleted soil caused by the extensive eucalyptus plantations, which rendered the land unsuitable for other crops. Consequently, the community repurposed the land into a community forest managed collectively.

The original goal of turning the eucalyptus plots into productive agricultural land was complicated by legal disputes over the company’s encroachment and illegal activities. The community shifted its focus to ecological restoration, incorporating native tree species to revitalize the forest. By 2021, the community agreed to transfer family forest plots into a unified community forest, emphasizing sustainable management and resource sharing [75]. At this time, according to Mr. Uthai Saadchob, a Kok Edoi leader, under the conservation paradigm in Thailand,

…the government was blaming peasants for degrading forests and evicting them in favor of timber companies and so-called reserves. We wanted to prove that peasants not only do not degrade the forest, but that we take care of the forest, we can restore the forest, and we can also make a livelihood from the forest.

[6]

Today a great part of the economic success of Kok Edoi comes from the market discussed below, where they market forest products sustainably harvested from the community forest protected by their territorial autonomy.

5.6. Community Structure and Management

Today the Kok Edoi is an economically successful, self-reliant community that operates without government support, requiring the development of annual plans and the establishment of an internal fund for financial circulation. The community has demonstrated the ability to independently secure resources—through collective accumulation—for infrastructure and other projects, such as installing a water pipeline and irrigation system. This self-sufficiency distinguishes Kok Edoi from other communities nearby:

When neighboring villages wanted irrigation, they had to spend more than 5 years with government officials to get public funding. But Kok Edoi, we just made the collective decision to use our community investment fund, and we bought the equipment and installed it immediately.

[76]

The Kok Edoi community is self-governed and managed through five internal committees:

• The Market Management Committee, with 11 members
• The Community Committee, with 7 members
• The Savings Committee, with 5 members
• Sanitation Officers, 2 members
• Water System Officers, 2 members

This decentralized governance model reflects the community’s commitment to participatory decision-making and collective responsibility [6].

5.7. Land Allocation and Management

Unlike many rural communities, Kok Edoi’s land reclamation process has allowed it to organize and allocate space into 12 distinct categories, designed to align with the community’s lifestyle and needs. This comprehensive land management has been achieved entirely without government intervention.

After a thorough survey and reclassification of the area, Kok Edoi’s land was reduced from 1800 rai to 1600 rai. Of this, the community currently manages approximately 1100 rai, including forest areas, productive land, and farming zones. Land is allocated, with each household receiving 6 rai, classified into 12 specific uses across the 1100 rai, including:

• Residential areas
• Community hall
• Fish ponds (Wang Pla)
• Frog ponds (Wang Oong)
• Backyard forest
• Family food forest (community forest)
• Collective food forest (16 rai)
• Farmland (6 rai per household)
• Riverside farmland (2 Ngan per household)
• Collective rice fields
• School plots
• Market area

The community self-manages land usage rights and seeks guidance from external advisors when necessary, although final decisions are made collectively during community meetings [73].

In 2000, following the relocation of the community hall and residents, vacant land was repurposed as collective rice fields to generate communal funds. However, the rice fields were not successful due to drought, prompting a shift to cassava cultivation for 1–2 years. This, too, faced challenges, particularly with labor shortages during harvest seasons. By 2008, the community collectively decided to convert the land into a collective food forest, focusing on sustainability [6].

Currently, Kok Edoi is exploring agroecology [38] with the goal of integrated farming. This approach emphasizes growing diverse crops for household consumption, prioritizing food over profit, while the surplus is sold to generate additional income. AoP and the community use Kok Edoi as a base for promoting ecological farming initiatives, including holding several sessions of the Bamrung Kayotha Agroecology School in the community [73,77]. AoP itself was inspired by the agroecology processes and peasant agroecology schools in other countries—particularly in Latin America—that it learned about and from through exchanges in LVC [78,79], and then turned to Kok Edoi as a pillar of support for the school.

To support this agroecological transition in Kok Edoi, collective experimental plots are being developed, including a seed propagation area in school fields and riverside farmland. This initiative also aims to instill ecological farming values in the younger generation, preparing them for a future where they may return to the land and adopt sustainable agricultural practices [73]. Collective management remains central to this effort, fostering shared responsibility and sustainable resource use.

5.8. The Kok Edoi Forest Market; Economic Autonomy and Foundation of Success

Kok Edoi’s foundational structures include the community, market, and savings commissions, with a focus on land allocation, market development, and the integration of youth and women in leadership roles. These initiatives highlight the community’s resilience and adaptability in addressing challenges such as limited resources and market access.

In the early stages, the community allocated two rai (approximately 0.8 acres) of land per household. However, as this proved insufficient over time, members sought additional income through construction work. Collaboration with AoP national leader Veerapol Sopa introduced ideas such as utilizing forest products for trade, leading to the establishment of a roadside market. Initially informal, this market evolved by 2003–2004 to have a permanent infrastructure with organized stalls, complete with rain and sun protection.

The market’s creation aimed to provide economic autonomy, that is, to provide a stable economic foundation for members while resisting external pressures. Leadership, particularly from Mrs. Uthai Sim-ma, fostered a cooperative environment where members collectively designed and managed the market. Revenue was split between sellers and suppliers, with women comprising the majority of sellers and men primarily involved in procurement [73,80].

The market committee consists of 11 volunteer members [6] responsible for overseeing three zones [6]:

• Outer Zone
• Central Zone
• Side Zone

Each committee member supervises 4–5 stalls, collects daily membership fees of 30 baht per stall, and records financial data [75]. Finances are tracked in two ledgers: one held by members and the other by the committee [73].

Key market rules include maintaining cleanliness every 10th day of the month and ensuring product quality and fair pricing. They believe that among the keys to the notable success of the market are their quality control and price agreements reached collectively, and that the resulting fair prices for quality products ensure many repeat customers. They note that the government market across the highway—built, they believe, as an ‘attack’ on Kok Edoi—rarely gets repeat customers because they sell inferior, often spoiled and expired products at high prices [76].

In cases of non-compliance, the market committee enforces penalties, with the community committee intervening if needed [6]. Fees were increased from 20 to 30 baht per stall daily to prepare for potential relocation due to road expansion. This adjustment, agreed upon by all sellers, allows the market to collectively accumulate approximately 22,000–23,000 baht in monthly savings.

Market fees fund operational expenses such as bathroom cleaning (4500 baht/month), septic tank maintenance (1300 baht/month), and cleaning supplies (2000 baht/set). Annual sales across both market sections amount to 20–30 million baht, averaging 1.4–1.5 million baht monthly. This is a lot of income for a community the size of Kok Edoi. Despite challenges experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic, the market remains a vital economic hub [75]. According to a Kok Edoi woman leader:

The market is by the roadside, which is its charm. When people from the provinces come to Bangkok, or when they come from Bangkok, and they do not know the way, they have to stop here. Some of the people I’ve talked to before come to work in Sa Kaeo province. On Fridays, when they go home, they buy things to take back to their families in the provinces, like Surin and Si Sa Ket. So, this place has become a channel and a source of income.

[81]

The market’s unique identity as a “forest market” emphasizes its connection to the surrounding natural environment, attracting customers with high-quality products and a rustic atmosphere. To accommodate growth, the “Bamboo Fund” savings fund was established in 2005, requiring sellers to save 10% of their sales revenue. This fund supports infrastructure development, including expanded parking and improved facilities, ensuring the market’s sustainability [6]. The Kok Edoi market is widely recognized as a peasant self-management success story [1,72,82]:

The market is invested in, operated, and managed by the community in a collective manner. Different committees are set up to take on the various roles and responsibilities required in managing and maintaining the market, and almost all members in the community are engaged in the management of the market. Household members take multiple responsibilities–they are producers, sellers, and administrators for the market. The market connects closely with the production of the community. The community households grow their family forests and work collectively in community forests to produce fresh, seasonal, native, and organic forest products. The market has rules for sustainable production and sustainable forest product collecting in the family forests and community forests to ensure that the villagers do not encroach into the natural forests nor destroy the biodiversity of the forests. The market supports the community in conservation actions such as prevention of forest fires and protection of the Sanctuary for Fish and Bullfrogs. The market supports the community in surveying its natural resources and native food genetic resources. Therefore, the market sellers/producers know the cycle of the products. The seasonal food calendar is made and displayed in the market to educate the consumers about the availability of food year-round.

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Kok Edoi’s experience in consolidating autonomy highlights two fundamental aspects: economic autonomy, which guarantees the living conditions of the families, and territorial autonomy [83], in the sense of defending territory, the commons, and a relationship of coexistence with it as forest people.

5.9. Savings Group: Pillar of Community Accumulation and Resilience

According to LVC:

During the historic 1998 demonstration in Bangkok, the community founded its self-managed savings fund, with initial installments of 10 baht. The goal: to send children to school, take care of the elderly, and fund the fight. Today, that fund has grown to more than one million baht, with 54 associated families: “With this fund we send children to school, we take care of the elderly, and we finance our resistance.”

The Kok Edoi Savings Group emerged as a community initiative in response to persistent challenges [73]. Inspired by successful savings group models from southern Thailand, the community invited experts to share their knowledge on establishing and managing savings groups. This process began in 1997 and included workshops on welfare systems and operational structures.

In 1998, the community initiated collective fundraising, with each of the 70–80 members contributing 50 baht. The funds were used to purchase essential items for resale, with profits allocated for the community’s operational expenses such as transportation, documentation, and coordination. By 2000, under the guidance of Veerapon Sopha, the group formalized its operations by establishing the Kok Edoi Community Cooperative.

The cooperative’s early goals included producing and selling liquor derived from farm products, community activism and political mobilization with AoP, and purchasing livestock, such as buffaloes.

Profits were reinvested to support communal projects, including poultry farming, where members grew chicken feed and rotated caretaking responsibilities. By 2003, the group introduced a system of shareholding, with members contributing 10 baht per share.

The savings group officially began operations in 2003–2004 during the construction of earthen houses in the community. Its governance includes a five-member committee, and it operates two primary funds:

• The Savings Fund, which supports general financial needs.
• The Public Fund, which funds political movements and activities. This fund is indirectly supported by the Thai Volunteer Service, which gives 3000 baht/month for 1 year on a rotating basis to a volunteer Kok Edoi villager, with the stipend in fact going into the fund.

The savings group provides loans to members, setting an interest rate of 2% per month initially, later reduced to 0.5% per month. Loan repayments and interest are collected monthly, with yearly reviews to adjust terms through consensus. Non-compliance with repayment terms results in restricted borrowing privileges.

The group also implements welfare measures:

• Transportation Subsidies—for members using personal vehicles to transport children to school.
• Healthcare Support—financial aid for medical expenses of members.
• Profit Redistribution—a portion of loan interest is allocated to group funds, with the remainder distributed among members based on individual savings.

As of now, the Kok Edoi community operates four distinct funds under the savings group. Members must save a minimum of 10,000 baht to qualify for loans, with the borrowing limit capped at 100% of their savings. Special allowances are made for emergencies, such as medical needs, with flexible withdrawal terms. To ensure accountability, all loans require a guarantor. For descendants of the original 54 eligible members, two guarantors are required, both of whom must be from the original membership base [73].

The group has successfully amassed over 1 million baht in savings, demonstrating its capacity to generate collective accumulation and foster financial security and resilience. By prioritizing support for genuinely distressed members and their families, the savings group embodies the community’s ethos of mutual aid and self-reliance.

The Kok Edoi Savings Group exemplifies how grassroots financial systems can empower communities. By combining economic strategies with collective welfare, the group has established itself as a cornerstone of Kok Edoi’s resilience and autonomy, enabling its members to navigate socio-political challenges while fostering long-term sustainability. As the president of the fund said:

I’ve been the president of the savings group for almost 20 years now. I have done it with all my heart… We have been building a fund without consideration for personal compensation. We have been making it so our brothers and sisters could survive. If we did not think this way, our brothers and sisters would not have a source of loans and revolving funds. We probably would not have been able to survive.

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5.10. Communal Fish Pond System

The Kok Edoi community maintains a shared resource known as the “Fish Pond” (Wang Pla). When the community first settled in the area, they recognized the need for sustainable water resources. To address this, they constructed numerous weirs to store water for communal use. These weirs not only provided sufficient water but also created a habitat for natural fish populations.

The community’s early reliance on single-crop agriculture, such as cassava farming, often led to financial challenges. In such times, they relied on the fish ponds as a financial safety net by harvesting fish to generate communal funds. Strict regulations were established collectively to preserve the resource: fishing was prohibited for both community members and outsiders.

In 2008, the community held discussions and came to new agreements about conservation and management of the fish pond and other water bodies. The aim was to ensure sustainable practices, including fish breeding and population growth, to maintain the pond as a long-term food source. The fish pond system exemplifies collective management and conservation efforts within Kok Edoi, serving as both a vital food resource and a symbol of the community’s commitment to self-reliance and ecological sustainability. The fish pond is currently managed as a form of collective accumulation and savings for both community investment and as a hedge against risk. Individuals are not permitted to catch fish, but when there is a collective need approved by the community, a major fish harvest can take place to finance an investment, address a crisis, or fund a festival [73].

5.11. The Role of Women

In Kok Edoi, women play a prominent role in community activities, particularly in the market committee and savings group, where they outnumber men. In our interviews we were told by both men and women that this is largely because women are perceived as more capable in managing finances, accounting, and meticulous tasks. Their reliability and attention to detail earn them the trust of community members [84]:

We women take care of the market, but when it comes to gathering forest products, men and women do it together. But when we get the food, the women take on the responsibility of selling it at the market. As for the rice fields, most of the time, both men and women help each other, but the income is managed by the woman.

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Additionally, women often take the lead in protesting against state actions, adopting strategies compatible with those of the AoP. Women in frontline roles help mitigate the risk of violence from authorities, leveraging societal norms that discourage the use of force against women. Despite these specific roles, most activities in Kok Edoi, such as farming, rice cultivation, and gathering non-timber forest products, are collaborative efforts involving both women and men, highlighting the community’s commitment to shared responsibilities and gender inclusivity [81].

It should be noted that women’s participation plays a fundamental role in the construction and consolidation of autonomy, including but not only in terms of demanding gender equality and parity. It also places at the center the necessary theoretical-political debate regarding the patriarchal dimension of social structures, while problematizing the care economy from the perspective of women and feminisms. Furthermore, women confer other meanings to the struggle for territorial autonomy related to the defense of life, from agroecology, the care of native seeds, the transmission of biocultural memory, and a relationship with nature understood as Mother Earth [85,86].

5.12. Mobilization Capacity and Participation in the National Struggle of AoP

The authors have consistently observed over many years that Kok Edoi members always play a leading and visible role in national mobilizations of AoP and in regional solidarity with other local struggles of AoP members. At the same time, Kok Edoi is the pride and joy of AoP, with the national AoP leadership seeing the community as something like the “jewel in the crown” of the national peasant movement, an emblematic case. AoP often brings other local member groups to visit and learn about autonomy, internal organization, self-financing, self-government, and, more recently, agroecology [75]. Kok Edoi members are conscious of their success being born from peasant struggle and of having survived many attempts at eviction at least partially because of being part of AoP, a national movement with internal solidarity as a guiding principle [2]. They believe they have a duty to play an important role in the national movement.

Having their savings funds gives them mobilization capacity in two ways. One is that they set aside a portion for paying costs (transport, food, etc.) of community members participating in national mobilizations and protests. Another is what they call their commitment to political training of community members, which they try to achieve by rotating the members that represent the communities in each successive AoP mobilization. A typical form of AoP mobilization is a several-weeks-long sit-in or camp of thousands of peasants and other poor people in front of government buildings in Bangkok. Through participant observation the authors have seen how these sit-ins function as political training schools. Every night AoP organizes a thematic roundtable discussion for all participants in the camp, with invited experts, including academics, activists, allies from other social movements, and NGO staff. In 2023 one such panel discussion was on how carbon credit schemes affect peasants, and others were on the AoP proposal for a new, “people’s” constitution for Thailand. Kok Edoi leaders say that, by sending different community members to these protests, they are providing political training to their members [6,73].

5.13. Current Challenges

As this article is being written, Kok Edoi is grappling with two significant challenges. One is the proposed construction of a four-lane highway with an overpass bridge where the market is located. The bridge poses a critical threat to the community. If this project proceeds and disrupts the market’s operations, it could mark the end of Kok Edoi as it currently exists [73]. The market serves as the community’s lifeblood, providing essential economic support not only for Kok Edoi but also for neighboring communities. Its loss would have profound ripple effects across all aspects of community life. The community is mobilizing to try to stop the project or alter the proposed route, with a fallback plan to negotiate financing for the relocation of the market and its infrastructure outside of the proposed new right-of-way:

There is one vendor from outside Kok Edoi who we allow to sell at our market, who heard that there might not be a market in the future because the highway would be expanded. He thought about it and dreamed that the market disappeared. He cried about how he would make a living if he could not sell at Kok Edoi. This shows that the market is a source of livelihood for people from neighboring areas.

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The second major challenge relates to youth participation and thus to the future of this unique experiment in peasant self-government, self-financing, and autonomy. There is a strong desire for the younger generation to contribute to the community after completing their education. Community leaders emphasize during meetings the importance of involving young people in decision-making and capacity-building activities, such as public speaking and other skills. However, a significant obstacle is the lack of time and commitment from the youth, making it challenging to ensure their active involvement in sustaining and advancing the community’s goals [73]. Yet the economic success of Kok Edoi has led some members of the younger generation who had been working in factories and other city jobs to return to work in farming or to run family market stalls [72]. Others have remained in urban areas but become involved in political activism via AoP, on behalf of the community.

6. Discussion and Conclusions: Autonomy, Re-Peasantization, and Alternative Development

As suggested in the introduction to this paper, the experience of Kok Edoi as documented above clearly dialogues with our literature review above concerning the types, dimensions, or facets of peasant autonomy, in addition to being a case that is itself the product of dialogue (diálogo de saberes) organized within the framework of a transnational social movement, LVC. Kok Edoi can also be thought of as an example of the allied concept of re-peasantization while also offering support for the argument that peasants, in this case, autonomous peasants, can take care of and earn a livelihood from the forest. It is a case that can perhaps be called “more radical” than the other Thai peasant autonomies discussed in Section 2 because of its combination of autonomy from state programs and strong political mobilization. In terms of the limitations of our analysis, we can mention that it is the documentation of a single case (though justified in the methodology section) and that the issue of intergenerational continuity stands out as a major challenge to Kok Edoi, as it does for the peasantry in general.

In light of our characterizations of autonomies in part 2 of this article, we can say that Kok Edoi is a non-ethnic, class-based, popular or people’s, partial but [mostly] radical, peasant, territorial autonomy, somewhere between implicit and explicit, as they do not exactly use autonomy as a “banner of struggle,” yet at the same time they have evident pride in being autonomous of the state. Non-ethnic and class-based because the identity that underlies their struggle is class, poor people, part of the Assembly of the Poor, and not based on ethnicity. Radical because they mostly—though perhaps not 100%—gave up on the state. Although of course they do participate in a national movement, AoP, that does make demands of the state. This speaks to the argument of Rosset and Barbosa [14,28] that radical autonomy in the home territories of national movements can strengthen national struggle, whether or not the national movement in question rejects or seeks to influence the state. In the case of Kok Edoi, collective accumulation and political training under territorial autonomy clearly permit them to play an important role in AoP at the national level, thus lending support to this argument. Their autonomy is partial, as there are dimensions, like collective security or spiritual autonomy, that are not evident, although many dimensions are present.

Among the types, dimensions, or facets of autonomy exhibited by Kok Edoi, we can list the following (and surely there are others not listed here):

• Land or territorial autonomy: It is the product of a peasant land occupation, with a collectively managed system of land classification, distribution, use, and management.
• Political autonomy and self-government: Kok Edoi has a complex and sophisticated committee-based participatory system of self-government that is completely autonomous from all levels of government in Thailand. By participating in and helping strengthen AoP and, by extension, LVC, they are building political autonomy from the ground up.
• Productive and food autonomy: They produce most of the food they consume and have an autonomously managed system of individual and collective farm plots plus a productive community forest and fish pond. There is also growing technical autonomy, with the use of traditional knowledge about forest management and traditional non-timber forest products (forest autonomy), and a growing move toward both agroecology and seed saving (seed autonomy) [77].
• Market Autonomy: The Kok Edoi roadside forest products market, which is key to their overall economic success and economic autonomy, is a clear-cut case of developing a local, “fair”, and “just” market to reduce dependency on capitalist middlemen and market forces not under the control of peasants.
• Economic and financial autonomy: Kok Edoi has partial economic autonomy, as they generate a substantial portion of family income from farming, non-timber forest products, and the market, but not complete, as there are various cases of this being supplemented with outside income. They also have significant financial autonomy via the savings funds, fish pond, etc., which enable them to both take personal loans and to invest in community infrastructure like the market buildings and the community irrigation.

Taken together, this demonstrates two important points: (1) Using an autonomy lens based on autonomy as a category of analysis sheds important light on the internal organization, economic success, and political mobilization of Kok Edoi; (2) The dimensions and types of autonomy demonstrated by Kok Edoi are very much in line with the more widely studied cases of territorial autonomy in Latin America, in some cases exhibiting fewer dimensions of autonomy than Kok Edoi.

In terms of re-peasantization, Kok Edoi is also a quite clear-cut case. As various authors have noted, the landless who have been de-peasantized through eviction can re-peasantize through land occupations [39,40,41]. This is the case of Kok Edoi, as the community was founded through a land occupation by peasants who had previously been evicted from their land by the state and private actors. They then exhibited further dimensions of re-peasantization through forest restoration and forest livelihood based on traditional peasant knowledge of the forest, agroecology, seed saving, etc. [40,41,87]. And clearly, they are also a case that illustrates how peasant autonomy and re-peasantization go hand in hand [40].

The intertwined relationships, legacies, and histories of Kok Edoi, AoP, LVC, the MST in Brazil, and the Zapatistas in Chiapas, Mexico, exemplify how part of the advancement and evolution of multiscalar social movements—local, national, and international—comes through dialog and sharing of experiences and inspiration, providing strong support for the argument that this is a central feature of contemporary peasant and indigenous people’s movements [3,7,8].

In conclusion, Kok Edoi autonomy exemplifies how the exchange of social movement knowledge and experience can help shape and strengthen local struggles, and it is also indicative of the success and resilience that can be achieved through peasant autonomy in Thailand. The Kok Edoi journey from land disputes to ecological restoration and cooperative management underscores the potential for grassroots movements to drive sustainable development and challenge conventional governance models. We leave readers with a final question: Could peasant autonomy provide a viable, different pathway in a country, Thailand, marked by a long as well as recent history of resistance and the search for “alternative development” strategies and paradigms [49,50,88]?