Thailand’s ongoing transition

The text is pleasantly systematic, with which I mean that it is a good read while thoroughly scrutinising two major themes. Firstly, the history of the nation-state—how it became and is becoming—is its explicit focus. How were the idea of the nation and the machinery of the nation-state established? Then, how did and do different social forces try to make use of them? So, nothing eternal about country and people, but an exemplary critical, historical-sociological approach dominates the narrative. 

Said different social forces are and have been the major players, constantly reinterpreting what the nation means while seeking to control or influence the use of state power—as is blatantly illustrated by the ongoing power struggles that characterise Thailand’s entry into the 21st century. Of course, the evolution of the social forces involved is the second major focus. 

These very themes—the becoming of the state and the birth and evolution of purposive social, political, economic, and popular and oligarchic players dictate the periodization given to the narrative, originally from the arising of the first political organisations—the muang and its lords—through the role of warfare to the dominance of trade and foreign relations. The latter explain the rise of Ayutthaya and a polity based on highly personalistic hierarchical relationships, and the rise of a wealthy aristocracy that downgraded both royal power and militarism, which facilitated the Burmese attack of 1767. 

Dominant elite

It meant a gradual reordering of relationships in which the aristocracy—nowadays, ‘oligarchy’ or elite—reduced monarchical power, at the same time that the market economy expanded, through which immigrant Chinese ‘merchant princes’ joined the ranks of the elite. An era of thorough globalisation set in, which changed mentalities and exposed Siam to the west. 

The reforms that took place between 1850 and 1900 included Thailand’s becoming of a modern state with defined borders and a centralised bureaucracy, even as relationships remained personalistic and hierarchical. As a buffer between British and French expansionism, western examples of thought and doing became ever more influential, at the same time that a nation was conceived, not as an expression of its people, but as a mystical unity symbolised by the ruler—a condition that plays a major role in the tumultuous years of the early 21st century.  

The integration of the economy with colonial enterprise, the release of forced labour, and the arising of entrepreneurial elite of Chinese origin resulted in the economic transformation of the city while creating a new working class. With the expansion of education, bureaucracy, and modern business, a small but important middle class began to form, resulting in commoners challenging the absolutist conceptions of the nation and the nation-state—which is another ongoing process.

Altogether, a new public sphere came into existence, in which commoner nationalists contended that the nation-state should foster the well-being of the nation’s people; it meant economic progress for all, and public services like education, health, communications, and the rule of law. In a way, this was countered by the aspirations of a strong state, fashioned after the fascist model. All of this went temporarily to smithereens through World War II which gave way to the so-called American era, the Cold War, US sponsored national development, the suppression of class conflict, and a state that much more deeply penetrated society than before. Under this regime, new elite emerged consisting of ruling generals, senior bureaucrats, and the heads of new business conglomerates. As such, the old Thai social order faded into history while giving way to the present ‘royalist’ elite and their interest in a dictatorial strong state that opened the door, since the revolution against royal power (1932), to a sheer endless series of ruling field marshals and generals.

This, plus the opening of the country to American education and ideas, the Cold War, and capitalist globalisation gave rise to counter forces, such as a new generation of demonstration-hungry students and a Communist party cum civil war supported by both the former and exploited peasants. In the meantime, the military top brass and their US patrons strengthened the monarchy as a focus of unity and stability. Setting on the idea of an elitist strong state versus the emergence of the unruly new popular forces resulted in a polarisation between the political right and left. 

In the last quarter of the 20th century, impressive economic expansion resulted in the urbanisation of Thai life and the marginalisation of the rural areas and their population. Big-business families grew in social prominence; a new white-collar middle class embraced western consumer tastes and concepts of individualism. Total trade, capital flows, international information, satellite television, massive tourist arrivals, excellent roads, and so on, punctured outer and inner borders, making for an unprecedented mass society and challenged the paternalistic tradition of the nation’s politics.

 

Cult of the King

Rapid change and the violence of October 1976 shattered the official self-image of a peaceable and progressive nation and led to the establishment of a National Culture Commission and the National Identity Office, with the idea of ‘democracy with the King as head of state’. In its aftermath, the cult of the King, with repetitive royal news and celebrations without end, grew into a craze that, according to my observations in the 1990s, became offensive to many; it was simply overdone.

As the booming economy went bust in 1997, it stimulated the activity of civil society and a flood of advice on how to go on. The country should rely less on the world outside; community-based development versus unabated urban growth; salvation through ‘cultural economics’; a monk collecting considerable donations to offset the national debt. It all came down to the call for love of country and putting the nation before self. The shock of the crisis—even as it was easing—threw up powerful themes of national defence, the neglect of rural society, and self-reliant development combined with scepticism about globalisation. The state should be strong with big-business people ready to manage the threats of globalisation and democratisation.

 

Rise of Thaksin

All this provided the mental world in which Thaksin Shinawatra could rise to super-prominence. The creation of his political vehicle—the Thai Rak Thai or ‘Thais Love Thais’ party—was a hit. Thaksin promised to run the country as a company, with he himself the CEO. Moving systematically, he knew how to tame officialdom and mobilise government financial institutions to promote certain economic sectors and chosen firms. In brief, he linked aggressive capitalism with a new populism, promising government assistance from cradle to grave. As a first-class political maverick, his Thai Rak Thai party won overwhelmingly in the polls of January 2002, while he continued working on his popularity and cementing public support. He was rewarded with unprecedented acceptance, but as his support among the mass broadened, his support among influential parts of the urban elite narrowed. The reasons of the latter are clear: Thaksin’s business background and pro-business policies accrued to a small coterie of business allies and his family firms.

To stem elite distrust, Thaksin, like any self-centred government, reasserted tight control of media, while at the same time presenting himself as the friend of the people. As such, he claimed he had to struggle against attempts by the old elite to preserve their own privileges and to obstruct his patronage of the mass. He argued that checks and balances, human rights, open debate, and even parliamentary opposition got in the way of his mission. His ideas and cunning received landslide approval when, in February 2005, the TRT took the north, northeast, centre and Bangkok, reducing the opposition Democrats to their heartland in the south. Even so, the resulting volatile mix of interests—elite versus mass; elite versus Thaksin; Thaksin’s high-handedness, etc.—triggered a reaction against him that meant a reaction against electoral democracy.

 

The third edition - The 2006 coup

According to the cover blurb, the present edition sheds light on Thailand’s recent political, social and economic developments, the violent street politics, and the election of 2011. It shows how the monarchy, the military, business and mass movements are players in a complex conflict. So far, so good, but a risky type of writing history, as post-publication events—the coup of 22 May 2014 and the umpteenth military government—would subsequently demonstrate. 

The circumstance that appears as the most obvious is that the advent of Thaksin has been an awakening call of the ordinary people that all of a sudden turned the mass society that had evolved into a highly political society in which the resentment of inequities in income, opportunity, and respect were and are expressed by the ‘Red Shirts’, that is, the people who were charmed by Thaksin’s populism and who had become aware of the importance of elections as a means to gain a larger share of the national pie. In brief, they insisted and insist on democratisation and making their voice heard.

They are opposed by the ‘Yellow Shirts’ who claim a monopoly of royalism (and its attendant morality), and are in favour of a strong state with its militarism, a paternalistic bureaucracy, social hierarchy and its privileges, with which big-business feels well at ease, and which attracted large parts of the growing, self-contented middle class, to boot. The first to take to the streets were the ‘Yellow Shirts’ (yellow is the King’s colour). The ‘Reds’ claim the colour of the nation, as in the country’s tricolour, and brought, through the polls, various Thaksinite governments to power, which invited the military coup of May 2014 and its aftermath (see the Newsletter 70, Spring 2015, pp. 38-9). In other words, Thai history is an ongoing story, and the end—real democracy?—is not in sight.

According to MacGregor Marshall’s interpretation, the unrest and its violence are symptoms of the crisis triggered by the succession prospect of the current, highly-aged King as the moral centre of the nation. The oligarchy is in the main opposed to the whimsical Crown Prince succeeding his father; they want a monarch they can control. The potential of this, avowedly secondary, conflict is a topic that, because of the draconian anti-lèse majesté legislation, is carefully sidestepped in A History, while resulting in MacGregor Marshall’s self-exile because of it. His book, though, is most advisable supplementary reading on Thailand’s entry into the 21st century.

 

Niels Mulder retired to the southern slope of the mystically potent Mt. Banáhaw, Philippines, where he concluded his swan song, Situating Filipino Civilisation in Southeast Asia; Reflections and observations (2012, Saarbruecken: LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing, print-to-order ed., ISBN 9783659130830) (niels_mulder201935@yahoo.com.ph)

 

References

MacGregor Marshall, Andrew. 2014. A Kingdom in Crisis; Thailand’s Struggle for Democracy in the Twenty-First Century. London: Zed Books Ltd. ix + 238 pages. ISBN 978-1-78360-057-1 pb.

“News from Southeast Asia”, the Newsletter 70: 38-9. Leiden: IIAS.