A vicious cycle of coups and constitutions | New Mandala

A vicious cycle of coups and constitutions | New Mandala

David Camroux, 06 AUG, 2016

Thailand has been searching for an appropriate form of government for more than 80 years. It’s unlikely to find one this Sunday when the country votes on a contentious new constitution.

At first glance, there may be something unique in the Thai military junta seeking to have its action and program legitimised through approval by referendum of a somewhat undemocratic constitution. Yet, in other ways — from a long-, medium- and short-term perspective — this is in continuity with the political trajectory of modern Thailand since the end of the absolute monarchy in 1932.

Thailand’s second military coup in 1932 succeeded where the first of 1912 failed because the military leader, Phibun Songram, allied himself with a Western-educated liberal (and republican?), Pribi Banamyong, to found a political party, the People’s Party, giving a democratic veneer to his play for power.

However, within this duumvirate the contradiction between two sources of legitimate rule remained unresolved: one was new, namely representative democracy through the ballot box, and the other linked to the ancien regime, that of the rule of virtuous men. Seen within the longue durée the last 84 years can be described as the search for an appropriate mode of governance for the Thai nation.

This situation is not unusual. After all, it was only some 80 or so years after the French Revolution with the founding of the Third Republic that a return to absolute monarchical rule became unthinkable.

What, nevertheless, as explained by Chai-Anan Samudavanija, is unique in the Thai case is that 1932 was first in the vicious circles of coups, interim constitutions, permanent (sic) constitutions, elections, protests leading to further coups. The last coup of May 2014 was the sixth in this series.

The draft constitution proposed for approval in the referendum on 7 August will be the 21st or 22nd since 1932 — something of a world record. However when constitutions, with an average shelf-life of approximately four years, are treated as disposable nappies, is it any wonder that the notion itself of a constitutional order and the rule of law in Thailand becomes problematic, a situation exacerbated by the politicisation of independent referring bodies such as the Supreme Court.

The referendum of 7 August is an attempt to show that this time, this constitution is really permanent. Alas, unlike the People’s Constitution of 1997 (the most transparent and progressive) which was the result of public debate and the fruit of a largely representative Constituent Assembly, this second draft has not been the subject of debate. Nor, more importantly, is there a sense of ‘ownership’ even, it would appear, among those in Bangkok such as in the Democrat Party, who supported the military coup of 2014.

If this is the case why is the military even bothering to organise the referendum?

Here we enter a number of mid-term considerations. In organising the referendum, the military regime is attempting to draw from the lessons learned from the 2006 coup that overthrew Thaksin Shinawatra.

From the military perspective in 2006 they failed to consolidate and legitimise their control, for within a year after the promulgation of yet another constitution Thaksin’s party under another name, and with his sister Yingluck as Prime Minister, was back in government.

This time around General Prayuth Chan-ocha is taking no chances.

Included in the draft provisions are that for the first five years, the present governing National Council for Peace and Order selects nearly all members of the upper house including six seats reserved for the security forces and that a non-lower house member can become Prime Minister. Furthermore, future military intervention will be legalised in advance.

Moreover, as Allen Hicken has explained, introducing multi-member constituencies will mean it will be very difficult for one political party to have a majority of seats in the lower house. As Jim Glassman has shown, from the royalist-nationalist perspective one of the “evils” of the 1997 Constitution was that it led, for the first time in Thai history, to a party, Thaksin’s Thai Rak Thai having a majority in parliament in its own right.

The new draft will mean a return to the status quo ante (the quiet before the war) of weak coalition governments allowing the public service with their military and business compradors the maximum political space.

Finally, from a short-term perspective, the referendum can be seen as an exercise in political theatre to bide Thailand over as it enters a period of potential turmoil with an impending royal succession.

The royalist-nationalist establishment is in a bind of its own making. Having elevated the monarchy to the position as the keystone of the Thai nation it now must cope with the unthinkable: the Crown Prince, as recent images emanating from Munich attest, appears manifestly unfit to take on the mantle of the dhammaraja to be bequeathed by his father, King Bhumibol.

To conclude, it is questionable whether Thai voters will effectively disenfranchise themselves, given that the draft constitution will mean the creation of a largely appointed parliament and legal prerogatives for the military to continually intervene in Thai political life.

Even if a constitutional draft – that is not only opposed by the two main political parties, Pheu Thai and the Democrats, but on which no political debate has been allowed – receives majority support among those Thais who bother to vote, it is doubtful whether this will provide the Thai military junta and part of the royal-nationalist elite with the democratic unction it seeks.

On the contrary, the referendum will not be a celebration of national unity but one that glosses over the regional, class and ideological divisions within the kingdom.

These I suspect will come to the fore with the death of King Bhumibol and once the painful moment of the royal succession comes, as it inevitably must.

David Camroux is a resident Senior Associate at the Centre for International Studies, Sciences Po in Paris and, from 1 September, Professorial Fellow at the Vietnam National University, Hanoi. 

Review of Unequal Thailand | New Mandala

Review of Unequal Thailand | New Mandala
T.F. Rhoden, 12 JANUARY 2016

Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker, editors, Unequal Thailand: Aspects of Income, Wealth and Power, (Singapore: NUS Press, 2016) 

Reviewed by T.F. Rhoden

Does Thailand have an oligarchy? If so, how do we define it? And most importantly for this collection of essays, what is the proof of its existence in contemporary Thailand?

These are some of the main questions that pervade Unequal Thailand: Aspects of Income, Wealth and Power, edited by Pasuk Phongpaichit and Chris Baker. Translated and reworked from a Thai-language edition,Su sangkom thai samoe na [Towards a More Equitable Thailand] published in 2014 by Matichon, this volume is a timely and useful review of some of the political economy issues facing Thailand today.

With nine chapters by Thai scholars and technocrats, the aim of the book is to provide up-to-date data and analysis on those material foundations that have fostered a growth in inequality and a strengthening of oligarchy in recent years. Some chapters do this better than others, but all provide insight into these issues.

In terms of raw empirical analysis, all of the research essays are a success, particularly the second chapter on land distribution as an indicator of both inequality and oligarchy. For those interested in the possible material foundations of recent turmoil in Thai political society, this volume is an absolute gem and is more than worth adding to one’s library.

Theoretically speaking, the introductory chapter by the editors utilises very recent publications on inequality and oligarchy to frame the research-based chapters that follow. Noteworthy out of this list are Thomas Piketty’s bestselling Capital in the Twenty-First Century (2014) and Jeffery Winters’ comparative political economy treatise Oligarchy (2011).

Those familiar with either of Piketty’s or Winters’ thinking on these topics will find evidence for both within the volume. Regarding the latter’s theory of oligarchy, however, the editors seem to have undervalued the analytic nuance of Winters’ repositioning toward the term’s original Aristotelian meaning—one that highlights the unique power position of material wealth without falling into the structural (or teleological) constraints of Marxist historical materialism.

In its place, the editors create the moniker “flexible oligarchy”, to mean any group of elites (whether they be military, political, bureaucratic, royal, business or so on) that network to “rule” the nation. This is frustrating, as insights on how wealth is defended, why oligarchs fight, and what this means for a political society are consequently lost.

At best oligarchy then means any “network” of individuals that are somehow more powerful or more influential than the average Thai person. There are networks in Thailand, but to ignore the difference between an oligarch and an elite is to misunderstand the challenge that inequality and oligarchy in Thailand pose.

Misgivings regarding theory aside, all of the follow-up chapters present new and crucial research.

The most startling for the volume is the initial analysis by Duangmanee Laovakul in the second chapter on land title documents (chanot) provided by the Land Department. This has never been done before in a private publication. Traditionally, the Land Department does not publish this information for those outside of government.

The results are as fascinating as they are somewhat depressing. Gini Index numbers for Thailand for yearly income, hovering around 0.50 for the last decade, pale in comparison to the Gini Index number of 0.89 for inequality in nationwide titled land distribution.

The landholding analysis is also broken down by region via Thai rai (14.4 million hectares) and by MPs via declared value. In the past, the best resource a researcher had for measuring a Thai oligarch’s net worth were the annual Forbes “Thailand 50 Richest” articles.

With the addition of landholding data, a more detailed picture of the distribution of assets beyond that of just publically traded companies is presented. The greatest strength of this analysis—and the reason it was likely trusted to the scholar in the first place—is also its greatest weakness: the landholding data are completely anonymous.

Granted, one can make educated guesses about who some of these owners are, but for a political economy analysis in a nation where over a third of the population work in agriculture, knowing who owns what parcel of land is of utmost importance. I am still waiting for a day when one can see a map of Thailand, or at least of Bangkok, delimiting who owns what exactly.

Factor into this the complication of how much land the Crown Property Bureau of the Thai monarch does or does not own and these seemingly economic issues of inequality take on a decidedly more political tone of oligarchy. Hence, the importance of a theoretically robust theory of oligarchy beyond that of just “network” becomes even more significant.

Another compelling research article from this important volume is the fifth chapter by Nualnoi Treerat and Parkpume Vanichaka on elite networking via special executive courses.

The interviews with course attendees are of great value for understanding how it is that specific policies benefiting the oligarchy come to fruition. The inclusion of members of “billion families” into the courses brings to light some of the behind-the-scene mechanics of how an oligarch can connect with those in the parliament, military, bureaucracy, university sector, or the media.

Public-sector courses have been offered by the National Security Academy for Government and Private Sector (Po Ro Or), the Office of the Judiciary, the King Prajadhipok Institute, and the Election Commission. Two private-sector courses include the Capital Market Academy by the Stock Exchange of Thailand one by the Chamber of Commerce. In a political society where scholars have argued there is limited social capital, these executive courses take on a greater meaning. As in other chapters in this volume, the authors deepen the theoretical discussion begun by the editors in the introductory chapter.

Overall, this is an engaging and well-crafted volume that delivers much-needed new empirical research on the challenges of inequality and oligarchy in Thailand. This book represents some of the best minds from Thailand on the state of the country’s current political economy.

This volume will be of interest to scholars and students of Southeast Asian political economy as well as researchers examining how inequality and oligarchy can vary across the globe.

T.F. Rhoden is a PhD Candidate at Northern Illinois University. His most recent peer-reviewed publication is “Oligarchy in Thailand?”, in the Journal of Current Southeast Asian Affairs, vol. 34, no. 1 (2015).

Democratic contraction in Southeast Asia | New Mandala

Democratic contraction in Southeast Asia | New Mandala
Bridget Welsh,  5 JANUARY 2016

2015 was the year authoritarian governments struck back against democratic pressures.

The story of 2015 in Southeast Asia was Myanmar’s November election. In giving the National League for Democracy and its leader Aung San Suu Kyi a landslide, Myanmar citizens signaled their strong support for democratic change and better governance.

These calls have been loud in recent years — in Malaysia’s 2008 and 2013 elections, in Thailand’s repeated electoral victories for a non-military aligned government, in Cambodia’s 2013 and Singapore’s 2011 polls as well as strong electoral support for democracy in the Philippines and Indonesia. Democratic pressures on Southeast Asian governments have been increasing, and are not likely to recede in the near future.

2015 was the year authoritarian governments in the region struck back. Behind the Myanmar headlines there is a worrying trend of a significant democratic contraction taking place. The use of the authoritarian arsenal by Southeast Asian governments are not new, but in the course of the year regional governments expanded their use of incumbency and control of institutions to shore up their positions.

The most obvious trend has been the increased use of repression, especially targeted toward opposition politicians and critics. In Malaysia, opposition leader Anwar Ibrahim was jailed in February. In Thailand, a trial began against ousted PM Yingluck Shinawarta as she was denied the right to travel. In Cambodia, opposition politicians were physically attacked. The leader of the opposition Sam Rainsy has delayed his return to Cambodia from November as a result of jail threat. Malaysia has the highest number of opposition politicians facing various charges from sedition to violations of banking finance regulations.

The threats opposition members across the region face in calling for change extend from being physically attacked on the campaign trial (as occurred for Myanmar’s Naing Ngan Lin NLD candidate who was slashed by a machete) to potential bankruptcy.

The use of the law for political ends moves beyond opposition members. Journalists and bloggers remain targeted. Radio reporter Jose Bernardo was shot dead at a restaurant in Manila in November. He joins the other 77 journalists who have been killed in the Philippines since 1992, making this country one of the most dangerous places for media professionals in the world.

Myanmar tops the region’s list with the most number of journalists jailed, pipping Vietnam this year who released some of its bloggers. Notably, blogger Ta Phong Tan was released after 10 years in jail. The situation for bloggers in Vietnam remains serious, with a number of incidents where bloggers and associates were beaten up in mysterious circumstances rather than jailed. In Singapore, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong won his defamation case against a blogger critic Roy Ngerng, who was asked to pay PM Lee S $150,000. Lee joins Malaysia’s Prime Minister Najib Tun Razak as the second current leader in the region who filed charges for public criticism.

The crackdowns on freedom of expression extend to ordinary citizens, from artists and academics to taxi drivers.

Young Chaw Sandi Tun was sentenced to six months jail for insulting Myanmar’s army in her Facebook post noting the similarity in color between the Tatmadaw’s uniform and the opposition leader’s clothing. In Thailand, the cases involving lese majeste have extended the boundaries to include insults to the king’s dog. Thanakorn faces up to 15 years in jail for this reference, and joins a long list of cases that have involved jailing of university students for a play, taxi cab conversations, novelists and more.

A mother of two was sentenced to 28 years for her Facebook comments, while a hotel employee received 56 years for his posts in August as part of the lese majeste unending prosecutions. Cartoonist Zunar in Malaysia faces up to 43 years for his satirical art work. These developments have had chilling effects on public discourse. Even in more open Indonesia, discussion of the 1965 attacks on communists were shut down.

As power has been used to quiet alternative voices, the rule of law itself has faced erosion. In some cases the law is not being implemented. In July, the co-Investigating International judge Mark Harmon of the Khmer Rouge tribunal in Cambodia resigned his position after the tribunal declined to arrest two former Khmer Rouge leaders for whom the court had issued warrants.

Despite having the technology to find the daughter separated from her mother Indira Gandhi for seven years by a husband who is abusing religion in a personal vendetta against his ex-wife, the Malaysian police have proven to be unwilling to use its tools to follow the court order to return the daughter to the mother.

In other cases, constitutional frameworks protecting rights have been by-passed through the introduction of military courts – as has been the case in Thailand and called for in Malaysia – and new measures that empower leaders to declare ‘security areas’ without checks on their authority, as occurred with the hurried passage of the National Security Council law in Malaysia. This law is being seen as a measure that will allow unpopular Prime Minister Najib to stay in office if he loses an election. In Myanmar, there are potential laws being considered that may give military impunity for alleged past crimes.

The area where the laws are under real scrutiny continues to be corruption. 2015 showcased some shocking scandals.

In Malaysia the 1MDB $700 million ‘donation’ into Najib’s personal accounts remains inadequately explained, as the rule of law has not been properly applied to the premier and impunity appears to have allowed the premier to hold onto office even with his personal reputation in shatters. Efforts to undermine Indonesia’s Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) and the recent demands for payments from Freeport to politicians to conduct business have showcased that persistent problem of bribery, lack of transparency and abuse of position.

From corruption concerns tied to the Aquino administration in the Philippines to persistent effects of corruption trails associated with Vietnam’s elite, there lacks effective leadership in tackling the region’s most serious governance problem. The end effect is that leaders at the top are seen to engage in graft, reinforcing a system where office is used for personal wealth rather than public service.

Control over resources and alliances with cronies remains a dominant feature of Southeast Asia’s political economy. Four countries in the region – Malaysia (3), Singapore (5), Philippines (6), Indonesia (10) – were in The Economist’s crony capitalist list, which measures the favoritism of wealth toward tycoons and politically-affiliated business interests.

Measures to enhance this favoritism expanded in 2015 through the introduction of consumption taxes in Malaysia and Myanmar, regulations that facilitated more burning rather than less in the haze-affected region in Indonesia and service fees in areas such as tolls to crony-companies. The region’s most vulnerable populations are feeling the economic pain, with depreciating currencies and a slowdown in growth in the region as a whole. These conditions have contributed to conditions where the use of state resources through populist policies have boosted incumbent governments, a factor that contributed to the People’s Action Party’s September 2015 electoral victory.

Those on the margins are being particularly impacted, with serious implications for rights. Southeast Asia was not immune from the global refugee crisis affecting over 60 million people worldwide. Conditions affecting the livelihoods of the Rohingyas in Myanmar remain severe, with conditions in camps across the region not much better. The shocking findings of death camps in Thailand and Malaysia involving torture, rape and human and organ trafficking in May have yet to be properly accounted for.

One reason for this lack of accountability lies with the upgrade the Obama administration gave Malaysia on its human trafficking assessment in the wake of the discovery of the gruesome murders. The Obama administration’s sell out of human rights principles was especially acute in 2015, where interests associated with the Trans-Pacific Partnership overrode other concerns.

From questions tied to the trial of Burmese migrant workers in killing British backpackers Thailand to the persistent practice of ‘sea slaves’ with citizens hauled onto fishing boats, those that are vulnerable remain so at the end of the year, which limited measures to point to strengthening protections.

Vulnerability in 2015 extended to religious and ethnic minorities as well. Bogor was labeled Indonesia’s most intolerant city when it declared a ban of the Shia faith in the city. Hate speech toward Muslims persists in Myanmar, in spite of the electoral victory signaling greater inclusiveness. Churches were burned in Aceh. Christmas celebrations were banned in Brunei. Rights of religious minorities were curbed in Malaysia in cases involving child custody and worship.

Measures to forge peace with minorities fell apart, as the Philippines’ Bansamoro Basic Law did not pass the legislatures. In other places such as Myanmar, Protection Race and Religion Bills denying rights to marriage and religious freedom were introduced, as protections for rights were in fact eroded.

There were nevertheless bright spots in greater freedom across the region – a gender rights bill in Thailand, the end of the persecution of a book seller and academic by religious authorities in Malaysia, the reinstatement of direct local elections in Indonesia and the subsequent peaceful elections in December, to name but a few.

Southeast Asians continue to fight for their freedoms valiantly, over cyberspace, in courtrooms and in communities. The climate however has not been conducive to greater freedoms as those in office continue to use their offices to hold on to power.

As we look ahead, with a slowing economy and persistent insecurities by incumbents, the prospects for expanding rights does not appear promising in 2016. Last year has shown us however that we can expect the unexpected, with the military’s acceptance of the Myanmar’s electoral results as an example.

As ASEAN formally announced its community on 31 December 2015, many hold only to potentially a different ‘imagined community,’ where the ideas of brilliant scholar Benedict Anderson of shared belonging, human dignity and decency live on.

Bridget Welsh is Professor of Political Science at Ipek University, Senior Research Associate at the Center for East Asian Democratic Studies of National Taiwan University, Senior Associate Fellow of The Habibie Center, and University Fellow of Charles Darwin University.

The crisis behind ‘A Kingdom in Crisis’ | New Mandala

The crisis behind ‘A Kingdom in Crisis’ | New Mandala
Mish Khan and Nicholas Farrelly, 20 NOVEMBER 2015

A fortnight ago, academic e-sparing about Thailand livened up the Twittersphere. A recap is in order.

This episode started with a review by Serhat Ünaldi of Andrew MacGregor Marshall’s 2014 book, A Kingdom in Crisis.

In his lengthy critique, “A Kingdom in Crisis – What’s All the Fuss About?”, Ünaldi argues that Marshall’s book is an “important contribution” particularly as “it informs a wide audience about the damaging political role of the monarchy.”

In his book, Marshall, a former Reuters journalist and occasional New Mandalacommentator, boldly attempts to chart Thailand’s complicated royal history. He concludes that succession politics will play a pivotal in shaping Thailand’s future trajectory.

For its analysis, A Kingdom in Crisis has received many accolades, including: “…promises to permanently change the conversation,” “…lays bare what the Thai elite has tried to keep hidden for decades” and “finally someone says the unsayable.”

Marshall claims that he goes where others fear to tread. In his words:

Journalists and academics tend to tiptoe around the subject of the monarchy, confining their attentions to less controversial topics or simply repeating the traditional fables.

This is where things get interesting. Ünaldi is concerned that Marshall does not give sufficient credit to other voices that have been writing and saying similar things for many years.

More specifically, Ünaldi suggests that “Marshall is a journalist who did extensive research, but is not a scholar… to write a book on the monarchy without quoting the works of experts like Hewison, Pavin or Ji is careless, to say the least.”

Exiled Thai-British academic Ji Ungkaporn has also lashed out at Marshall, arguing “Andrew MacGregor Marshall’s book is misnamed because it has nothing to do with Thailand’s struggle for democracy.

“It will be a book which offers much entertainment to those who enjoy reading Hello!magazine. Marshall ignores progressive Thai writers… yet Lady Gaga gets a place in his bibliography!”

At the end of the day, this brawling doesn’t look like it will diminish the book’s wider reception. Reviews on Amazon and Goodreads suggest Marshall’s work is a popular and accessible introduction to Thailand’s political turmoil, especially for those only vaguely familiar with its intricacies.

What do New Mandala readers think?

Mish Khan is Associate Editor of New Mandala and Nicholas Farrelly is the co-founder of New Mandala.

Read New Mandala’s reviews of A Kingdom in Crisis here. 

Thailand’s rocky road to democracy | New Mandala

Thailand’s rocky road to democracy | New Mandala
Paul Sanderson, 18 NOVEMBER 2015

On average Thailand rewrites its constitution every four years. The next is likely to tilt more towards dictatorship than democracy.

There are few countries where being a constitution writer results in regular employment, but Thailand is one of them. There is even a long-running gag in which a student wanders around lost in the parliamentary library while trying to find a copy of the constitution. “Oh, it’s among the periodicals,” a librarian says. “There’s a new one every year.”

The reality is a little slower: a 21-member committee was installed in September to draft the nation’s 20th charter since the abolition of absolute monarchy in 1932, putting the average at more than four years.

Thailand’s cycle of coups and ripping up constitutions is well-documented, and the 2013 film Paradoxocracy does a decent job at exploring the difficulties democracy has faced and explaining the template the military usually follows when it takes power.

The most recent attempt at drafting a constitution failed on September 6, ultimately for political reasons: the junta ordered military members of the rubber-stamp National Reform Council to vote the draft down after it became obvious there was no support for a proposed crisis panel that would effectively legalise future coups.

With the country’s two largest political parties finding themselves in the strange position of being united in opposition to the draft, there was little to no chance of it passing a referendum.

There was no downside for the administration of General Prayut Chan-o-cha in going back to the drawing board, apart from having to tell the world the “roadmap to democracy” was set back 20 months to mid-2017.

There was, however, the advantage of maintaining power longer as the king languishes in hospital.  It is widely thought the military wants to be in control during the succession, or at least have a constitutional structure in place that limits the influence any civilian government can have.

The painfully obvious symbolism of the generals lining up behind the unpopular Crown Prince Vajiralongkorn for a national bike ride for the ailing queen on April 16 was lost on no one.

Constitution writers will no doubt have the potentially troublesome consequences of his coronation, or the potentially worse consequences of overlooking the playboy prince in favour of his more well-regarded sister, in mind when charting the path ahead.

As for the committee itself, it was a case of out with the old and in with the older.

Borwornsak Uwanno, 61, a veteran of the 1992 and 1997 constitution-drafting processes, was replaced as chairman by Meechai Ruchupan, 77, who has been aligned with military governments since the 1980s and has written undemocratic charters in the past.

His interim charter after the 1991 coup was the framework under which the snap poll of March 1992 was held, and contained a loophole that allowed parliament to appoint Gen Suchinda Kraprayoon as an unelected prime minister.

This in turn led to street protests and the “Black May” crackdown in which 52 people were killed, many more disappeared and thousands were arrested. Gen Suchinda’s deception may have directly sparked the protests, but Mr Meechai was his enabler.

Mr Meechai was not involved in 1997’s “People’s constitution”, which was far and away the country’s most democratic. The legal expert returned to the fore in 2006, creating the post-coup interim charter that served as a template for the much more conservative 2007 constitution, which he approved and submitted for royal endorsement as then-president of the National Legislative Assembly.

This all indicates the 20th Thai constitution will more likely err towards dictatorship rather than democracy. Not only can we infer Mr Meechai’s disdain for popular rule from his history of siding with ultra-conservative regimes, he has said as much. Elections are “not always necessary” for the Senate, he told the Bangkok Post in October. Indeed, he would work to ensure the Senate was not an echo of the House of Representatives.

In places like Australia and the United States, this might mean a Senate where states have equal representation, in Thailand this typically means a significant proportion of the seats will be reserved for establishment figures. Appointed senators have typically included retired judges, bureaucrats and military figures: so-called “good people”. Expect to see a significant number of appointed senators in the next Meechai charter, with perhaps one elected senator from each of the 77 provinces.

Mr Meechai has also reopened the idea of an outsider prime minister, despite this leading to disaster in 1992.

Under his current thinking, the non-elected prime minister would be appointed by MPs and this would be democratic enough. Anyone charged with corruption – not found guilty of, mind – would also be banned from politics. This is all clearly designed to keep anyone with the surname Shinawatra from ever being prime minister again, which will appeal to a significant and noisy minority.

The best way to prevent abuses by those elected to power is to strengthen democratic institutions, foster a free press and hold consistent elections where the people can vote corrupt politicians out.

History has shown Mr Meechai and those around him have always taken the opposite approach, and we are likely to see more of the same with the next constitution and next election, if and when it happens in mid-2017.

Paul Sanderson is a pen name. The author is an independent writer and consultant based in and around Southeast Asia.

This article is published as a collaboration between New Mandala and Policy Forum, Asia and the Pacific’s platform for analysis and discussion on public policy.

Democracy worship in Thailand | New Mandala

Democracy worship in Thailand | New Mandala

 

MAT CARNEY & EMILY DONALD, GUEST CONTRIBUTORS, 

2 JUNE 2015

Photo by Adaptor-Plug on flickr https://www.flickr.com/photos/11401580@N03/

Simplistic arguments currently circulating in Thailand are in danger of neglecting the complexities of democracy and ignoring roadblocks to its ‘return’.

In the words of Winston Churchill, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time”.

Churchill’s statement contains some truth; democracy has been a relatively successful project within the realms of Europe, North America and Oceania. But democracy has yet to be fully established elsewhere. Most countries in Southeast Asia are not ruled democratically and this absence of tangible democracy is spurring an emerging trend that can only be described as ‘democracy worship’.

The people and groups leading this trend have glorified and simplified the basic principles of democracy, elevating the political system to cult-like status. Democracy is discussed and demanded as the instantly required form of government that a state must adhere too. At times individuals describe it, unintentionally and intentionally, as that of perfection and utopianism.

Examples of ‘democracy worship’ can be seen throughout Southeast Asia, however, it is most obvious in Thailand, where democracy is admired and given sacred qualities, with little thought given to the complexities or theory behind it. Equally as clear is the problematic nature of the country’s democracy or lack of it.

Such desire for democracy is valid as Thais have lived in a constant state of semi-democracy, constantly interrupted by aggressive coups, appointed prime ministers, and full blown dictatorships, forming a repetitive pattern that has reoccurred for decades.

Coup culture within Thailand has many distinct characteristics, with two standing out more than others; the worship of democracy within certain areas of society, and an almost blasé attitude towards military coups. Again, there are legitimate reasons for individuals to desire a ‘return’ to democratic governance. However, the simplistic arguments over the desire for democracy currently circulating in Thailand, are in danger of neglecting the complexities of democracy.

Social media, an understated instrument of political discourse within Thailand, helps to demonstrate democracy worship and the cult-like following that has been attracted by democracy’s ideals. The trend may also be enhanced through other forms of worship within Thailand, such as ‘academic worship’ and ‘professor worship’, which can give academics a cult following of their own, whether they like it or not. So-called ‘celebrity’ academics, either living in Thailand or based abroad for political reasons, are highly active in posting and promoting democracy related material on numerous social media platforms.

The majority of the time such posts contain little or no explanation of how democracy can become successful, or what the major obstacles to democracy are – particularly important given the complicated issues related to the balance of power and powerful institutions within Thailand. However, a single post can get over 10,000 ‘likes’ and be reposted hundreds of times. It is also common for these ‘celebrity academics’ to publish up to 10 democracy-themed posts per day, again, demonstrating the need for Thailand to return to democracy but offering no solutions, suggestions, or critiques of the more complicated issues.

Stark divisions and aggressive polarisation is endemic throughout all aspects of Thai society including: governance, the religious establishment, the supreme institution, the military, civil society, and educational institutions. The interconnectedness between networks of power in Thailand is multifaceted, complex and ingrained. Well-known academic Duncan McCargo coined the term ‘network monarchy’ to describe this complex web of interconnected power that holds up the country’s royal institution. By fusing itself to all aspects of Thai society, and spreading influence to all corners of the country, the monarchy has occupied a seat of supreme dominance and reverence in Thailand, entrenching its values to ensure its continued survival.

It is here, within the realm of ‘networks,’ that those who situate themselves within the cult following of democracy, or worship democratic principles, neglect to understand the intrinsically problematic nature of democracy in Thailand. A functioning democracy, adhering to democratic principles, cannot operate within a country that fosters such a complicated network of relationships, all attempting to receive, abuse or hold on to some form of power.

Arguably, these networks of power exist within democratic countries as well, particularly the United States. However, in the United States there are also independent checks-and-balances, reinforced by strong institutions, capable of limiting the means of those seeking to abuse power. These independent reinforcements have disappeared from Thailand’s political landscape.

The power and influence of the Thai military, which sits above all other forms of power, except the royal institution, needs to be completely dismantled. Speaking hypothetically as there is no possibility of this occurring any time soon, before democracy can become any more than a ‘desire,’ the military should be placed in civilian control and given little or no capacity for influencing power relations or promoting democratic ideals. In the future Thailand could take note from Indonesia and how it went about limiting the power and influence of the military.

The legitimacy that the monarchy, and thus in turn the military, receives due to their relationship with the Buddhist establishment, the Supreme Sangha Council, also needs to be understood as a significant road block to democracy. The Sangha is undeniably connected to the realm of long-established networks, and is constantly attempting to protect its members’ privileged position of power and reverence in Thai society.

With such a complicated and multifaceted network, democracy has many obstacles, as the old establishment will always be able to legitimise itself through the many sensitive and controversial aspects of the network, particularly religion.

Another major problem with democracy in Thailand is the issue of regional divides. So called ‘red provinces’ that have been branded as Shinawatra supporters, or endorsers of Thaksin-associated political parties, can boast growing populations and a larger voter base than those on the opposing side, or sides, of politics. Especially those whom are supporters of the old establishment.

If democracy does ‘return’ to Thailand, it is inevitable that those aligned with Thaksin Shinawatra would return to power with a majority of the vote, significantly threatening those aligned to more established power bases, such as the monarchy, military and the consumerist city-based elite. Such established power bases will not accept a threat to their power or loss of power, and will once again support and orchestrate a coup. The cycle will continue.

Those in Thailand who are unofficial members of the democracy cult continue to constantly and simplistically argue for democracy to return to the country. This is admirable at first glance, however with a more in-depth analysis, it is clear to see that democracy is impractical and will likely end in additional violence. Both Thai and foreign academics, journalists and civil society groups all argue for an instantaneous restoration of democracy in Thailand. What they fail to mention or discuss, is how? How does one take on the old establishment, a force that takes its legitimacy from the untouchable royal institution?

Members of the democracy cult or those who worship the idea of democracy need to redirect their attention to aspects of the so-called network power issue. They need to explain how balances of power need to change, the relationship between the military and the monarchy, the enormous division within the Thai population, and the relationship between the old establishment and elite and the monarchy and majority religion.

Worshippers of democracy who argue for instant democracy to take place within Thailand are also underestimating issues of systematic corruption that have plagued semi-democratic governments in the past. Although elections won by both Thaksin and his sister Yingluck were reasonably democratic, and inappropriately nulled, both governments struggled with corruption. However when it comes to corruption, the established elite are significantly more susceptible to its more dramatic forms; thus there is a valid argument behind those who argue that democratic governments foster less corruption.

Arguing for democracy is admirable and deserves respect, however to the extent it is promoted and discussed on social media and elsewhere, it is problematic. Democracy is not possible in Thailand anytime soon, and those who continue to contribute to ‘democracy worship’, do nothing more than demonstrate the lack of solutions and impracticality of democracy in such a fractured society.

It would do the democracy argument well if attention was redirected to tackling some of the larger issues that act as roadblocks to democracy.

Mat Carney is a research fellow and coordinator at the Centre for ASEAN Studies at Chiang Mai University, an independent blogger and ANU graduate.

Emily Donald is an intern at the Labour Rights Promotion Network in Thailand and undertaking her studies at the University of Queensland.

Succession and legitimacy: Vajiralongkorn and Tôn Duc Thang | New Mandala

Succession and legitimacy: Vajiralongkorn and Tôn Duc Thang | New Mandala

DAVID CAMROUX, 

4 MAY 2015
It may appear incongruous and, to some at least, offensive to compare the present Crown Prince (aged 62) and heir apparent to the Thai throne with the second president of North Vietnam and, after reunification, the first president of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam. After all the putative ‘predecessor’ of the former, King Bhumibol (Rama IX), while ailing, still remains on the throne and is still the more than ceremonial head of state of the Thai kingdom. As for Tôn Duc Thang’s predecessor, Ho Chi Minh, he died in 1969 and Tôn himself passed away in 1980 at the age of 92. Yet a recent trip to neighbouring Vietnam has caused me to think again on political developments in the Southeast country with which I am at present most concerned, Thailand, and the parallels and divergences in the historical trajectories of these two Southeast Asian nations.

(Crown Prince Vajiralongkorn - Photo New Mandala)

During this holiday I visited the Tôn Duc Thang Museum in Ho Chi Minj City, as well as alighting from a cruise on the Mekong to visit the Tôn Duc Thang Exhibition House on My Hoa Hung Island.  The Museum has been correctly described by tourist guidebooks as one of the quietest places in the bustling city, formerly known as Saigon, while the Exhibition Hall was totally bereft of visitors. It seemed terribly unfair that such a true Vietnamese revolutionary should, despite some efforts by the Vietnamese propaganda machine, be so neglected by his compatriots. After all he was not only an authentically working class party cadre, but also came from southern Vietnam. He had not only spent fifteen years imprisoned by the French on the infamous Con Dao Island, but had presided over the reunification of his country, the culmination of a life of struggle and sacrifice. Surely if someone deserved elevation to the pantheon of Vietnamese heroes it was Ton. Alas, in life and in death, he had to live in the long shadow cast by his predecessor Ho Chi Minh.

(Tôn Duc Thang - Photo lichsuvietnam.edu.vn)

The same cruel fate would appear to await for Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn when he finally ascends the throne after the more than sixty year reign of his father, the world’s longest reigning monarch. In Bangkok in March 2010 during the violent repression of anti-government, pro-democracy demonstrators by the military that caused the death of 90 red shirt protestors, one of their supporters scrawled on a Bangkok overpass, in reference to King Bhumibol, “Where is daddy?” The question is does this really matter?

Ho Chi Minh was described by the French historian, Jean Lacouture, as a “Franciscan who had read Marx”. Certainly his personal modesty, moral integrity and an almost monk-like devotion to his vocation are portrayed in the ubiquitous images that adorn public buildings and hoardings throughout Vietnam. Ho Chi Minh, like King Bhumibol, in his personal behaviour seemed to epitomize the ideal of the Buddhist middle way: the rejection of personal gratification and vice in service of a greater public good. Indeed, King Bhumibol’s doctrine of the sufficiency economy, promulgated in reaction to the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997-1998, could have been as easily drafted in Ho’s modest bungalow in Hanoi as in the Dusit Palace in Bangkok. Both Ho and King Bhumibol are portrayed as having a particular concern for the lowest of the low, the peasant farmer. Other parallels can be drawn: Ho is affectionately referred to as cu(uncle), the benevolent family patriarch who devotes himself to his family (the nation) while King Bhumibol is commonly referred to as the father of his people.  Yet, while Ho Chi Minh may have an altar devoted to him in several Buddhist temples in Vietnam, (such as that in Chau Doc, I visited), under a secular Communist regime he never acquired the revered status of a dhammaraja (the virtuous Buddhist ruler) associated with King Bhumibol.

It seems unfair that Ton Duc Thang has been allowed to fade into obscurity despite sharing many of the character traits so vaunted in Ho Chi Minh. The same continuity in personal demeanour cannot be said to exist in the case of Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn in relation to his father. Going into detail to make the contrast more explicit would potentially incite prosecution under Thailand’s much abused lese majesté laws: suffice it to say that the thrice divorced future Rama X is almost the antithesis of the monogamous Rama IX. In the rumour mill that compensates for the lack of open discussion of the monarchy in Thailand, the eccentric playboy, to put it mildly, is often contrasted with the saintly father (and Prince Vajiralongkorn’s elder sister). However does this really matter?  After all the British monarchy, to take but one example, has survived for centuries despite having had at times some rather dubious characters on the throne. My argument is that indeed it does matter, for it is not the Thai monarchy itself that is problematical, but rather the particular role it plays – or rather has been orchestrated to play – in the construction of a sense of   Thai nationhood.

Once again a reference to the Vietnamese case is useful. Ton Duc Thang’s relegation to the status of a footnote of history is of little consequence for the Vietnamese nation. The State-orchestrated cult of Ho Chi Minh is that of the revolutionary leader who united his country across class, regional and ethnic divides to create a new modern Vietnam.  The lack of a spiritual successor is of little importance, for, in a sense Ho Chi Minh lives on in the egalitarian ideals of the Socialist Republic of Vietnam, if not often in its practice. In contrast the cult built around King Bhumibol is designed to maintain a somewhat feudal social order in the interests of a Bangkok elite comprising the business community, the top Administration and the Military. This personalized cult, extended only to Princess Chakri Sirindhorn and, to a lesser extent, to Queen Sirikit, does not portray the king as a the head of a Thai democracy, even if this is his constitutional role. Parliaments and elected governments are to be kept weak. They will become even weaker under the present proposals of the civilianized military government resulting from the coup of May 2014.  Rather the monarchy is the first of the three pillars, the others being the sangha (the monkhood) and the nation, that officially defines Thai identity. Yet is the individual on the throne, not the institution of the monarchy per se, that is brought to the fore in this official portrayal.

What lessons can be drawn from this brief comparison? Thailand, like Vietnam, is constrained by its past. As we are constantly reminded Siam (today’s Thailand) was the only polity in Southeast Asia not, formally at least, to be colonized. In Thai school textbooks and in the popular imagination the perpetuation of Thai independence was the almost single-handed work of two great monarchs of the Chakri dynasty:  King Mongkut (Rama IV) and King Chulalongkorn (Rama V). The latter has been described by one Dutch scholar, Irene Stengs, as the ‘patron saint of the Thai middle class’. The modern Thai nation, in other words, is a product of the Thai monarchy, going back even further in history to the 13^th century. The ‘other side of the coin’ of the Thai kingdom’s ostensibly uninterrupted independence is that, unlike most neighbouring countries, it did not experience that cathartic seminal moment, when the struggle for independence against the colonizer brings together a founding national movement united across class barriers, and the sense of citizenship involving some form of social contract. The people of Thailand continue to be subjects before they are citizens.

In Vietnam the cult of Ho Chi Minh both maintains and legitimizes the nature of the modern one party nation-state. In Thailand respect for the monarchy, largely centred on the personality of King Bhumibol himself, could rapidly disappear once his son ascends to the throne. As a Thai colleague once suggested to me, Thais have become “Bhumibolists’ rather than fervent supporters of the monarchy as an enduring institution. In the inevitable succession it can be feared that social cohesion within Thailand itself would be severely challenged.  The reconciliation of kingdom and modern nation remains a work in progress, as the constant changing of the Thai constitution – with the twenty-first since 1932 now being drafted – demonstrates. If constitutions can be discarded like so many scraps of paper quid the future of a constitutional monarchy? If the legitimacy of an institution, such as the Thai monarchy is so centred on the purported extraordinary attributes of one individual, will it survive when a far lesser mortal succeeds the irreplaceable?

David Camroux is Associate Professor and Senior Researcher in the Centre for International Studies at Sciences Po in Paris and co-editor of the Journal of Current Southeast Asian Affairs.

Feature image: Yellow shirt supporters at King Bhumibol’s birthday celebrations in December 2013, Bangkok Post 5.12.2013