Thailand’s coup is a public relations fiasco. A short-tempered general talking breezily about his junta’s wish to “restore happiness to the people and stamp out conflict”. Hundreds of people, including academics, rounded up for questioning. Soldiers descending on tiny groups of protesters. People facing arrest for reading books (Nineteen Eighty-Four) or for making three-fingered salutes (The Hunger Games). It is all so horribly retro. Thailand has become the land of the inverted smile.
That is not, though, how it looks to many in Bangkok, at least not to those loosely described as “the elite” and their supporters. To them, the coup has ended a period of mob rule in which allies of Thaksin Shinawatra, the self-exiled former prime minister, hijacked democracy for their own nefarious ends. Some may not exactly relish living under a military dictatorship. But many view it as a necessary evil, a prelude to a more workable form of democracy purged of corruption and winner-takes-all majoritarianism.
Songkran Grachangnetara, a columnist and one of a few people in Thailand who still dares to speak his mind, is scathing about such views. “People were crying out against a democratic dictatorship,” he says, referring to widespread concern about the perceived abuses of majority rule. But few, he says, seem as worried about a real dictatorship run by real soldiers.
Still, it is worth considering why many in the Thai elite — a useful if imperfect term broadly defined as the military, bureaucracy and monarchists — find Thailand’s version of democracy so offensive.
It all began when Thaksin, a business tycoon turned politician, became prime minister in 2001. Initially supported by sections of the elite, he quickly lost favour. He was widely seen as corrupt, dishing out goodies to his businesses and those of his cronies. His government was accused of human rights abuses. Perhaps worst of all, many saw his grab for power and patronage as disrespectful to the king.
For those who hated Thaksin, there was a huge problem: he was unstoppable. He convinced a huge and previously marginalised voting bloc in the north of Thailand that he represented their interests. It took a coup, in 2006, to dislodge him. That got rid of Thaksin, but not Thaksinism. After the junta left, allies of the exiled prime minister swept back into office. In 2011 his sister Yingluck Shinawatra — whom Thaksin unhelpfully called his “clone” — was elected.
General Prayuth Chan-ocha will not repeat the “mistakes” of 2006. From his point of view, the military handed back power too quickly. It also left a constitution that could not prevent the election of a pro-Thaksin government. For many in Bangkok, democracy is a busted flush. It has become equated with corruption and with what one critic calls the “disease of populism”. Not all the criticism is wide of the mark. There is much to dislike about the governments Thaksin has run, in person or by proxy. As in many other fledgling democracies, the law is too weakly enforced to prevent the abuse of power or the installation of crony capitalism.
However, much of the criticism is spurious. It is doubtful whether Thaksin’s government was any more corrupt than many others, including some notorious former military rulers. Nor is Thailand’s democracy necessarily more compromised than those of its neighbours. India, Indonesia and the Philippines have all persevered with voting anyway. The idea that Thai politics has no checks and balances is also flawed. One could just as easily argue it has too many. In recent years, no fewer than three prime ministers have been dismissed by the courts — a powerful check if ever there was one.
Dislike of democracy stems largely from the paternalistic idea that peasants cannot be trusted to vote sensibly. The assumption is they simply elect whoever promises to offer them the biggest bribes. In fact, Thaksin won his popularity by offering rights over charity. Whether he was sincere, or whether he was simply playing a cynical numbers game, is almost beside the point. His policies struck a chord with an electorate for whom previous systems had been devoid of democratic meaning. Much of the Thai electorate has now tasted the fruits of democracy. For the elites that is precisely the problem.
The generals envisage harmony through the use of “reconciliation centres”. No wonder Nineteen Eighty-Four is a touchy book. They also propose to enact electoral “reform”. People speculate that could mean a partially appointed lower house or multi-seat constituencies. Almost inevitably, the aim will be to dilute democracy, not to strengthen it.
Such tactics might work for a bit. But in the long run, the social forces unleashed by Thaksinism will not be so easily ensnared. Democracy is not perfect. Unequivocally, it can be abused. In the end, however, it does mean majority rule, albeit with certain safeguards for the minority. That must be the basis of any lasting political settlement. It is not one likely to emerge from the generals’ playbook.
— Financial Times
