Thailand on the brink

The recent explosive events in Thailand which have exposed the deep social fissures in that country have come as a shock to many.  Tom Fawthrop explains the crisis.

'We stay where we are; you stay where you are. Compromise is finished, and the land of smiles will not exist.' - Natthayot Phajuang, red-shirt supporter, quoted in the International Herald Tribune (24 May 2010)

BANGKOK in the 'Land of Smiles' had metamorphosed into a wartorn Beirut. Smoke from burning tyres, barricades in the streets, petrol bombs and flying bullets, the din of gunfire and civilians cringing in fear in doorsteps and apartment blocks gave the city the aura of a warzone.

One of the most popular tourist destinations in Asia descended into chaos in mid-May as the Thai government desperately tried to regain control over the 'red zone' occupied by tens of thousands of 'red-shirt' protestors since 3 April.

On 19 May Thai soldiers and police backed by armoured cars finally broke through the barricades of bamboo poles and rubber tyres, warning the tenacious protestors that they were closing in. Observers feared the worst, with many women and children inside the red zone.

However, the prime minister and his generals did get one thing right during this weeks-long confrontation. The final advance to end the protest was conducted with caution and care to prevent any massacre, and despite the fact that some red-shirt guards were armed. Seven of the red-shirt leaders surrendered, to make it easier for the rally to come to a relatively peaceful conclusion.

But the surrender and defeat in the red zone prompted red-shirt gangs to roam the streets of the capital, smashing windows and setting fire to some major buildings. CentralWorld, the city's largest shopping mall, was burnt out and the Stock Exchange was also hit - both of them prime symbols of the elite world of globalisation, glitz and wealth so alien to the residents of Bangkok's slum and squatter areas. Twenty-seven major fires engulfed the city in a night of red-shirted rage. These extremist gangs also sought to exact revenge on pro-government media, setting fire to the offices of TV station Channel 3 and attempting to besiege the Bangkok Post and the Nation  buildings.      

The first attempt to clear the red-shirt protestors who had occupied the central commercial district around Siam Square and Rajaprasong - an area of 3 square miles - had been on 10 April. It was a disaster. Shooting broke out on both sides; 25 people were killed and over 900 injured.

The overall death toll by 20 May had reached 74, with more than 1,800 injured. It was the worst bloodshed since the massacre of pro-democracy demonstrators in Bangkok in 1992.

The Thai political system is tottering towards collapse, unable to resolve the bitter divisions between the capital's traditional ruling elite, the rival clique of new business elite led by former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, and the newly emerging plebeian voices from the countryside.

The eventual dispersal of the red-shirted revolt in the centre of Bangkok may only trigger more protests in the red-shirt strongholds in Thailand's north-east. 

'Class war'

The 'red-shirted' multitude had declared 'class war' and marched on the capital in mid-March. But the ranks of the protestors were also massively reinforced by Bangkok's urban poor and lower middle class, giving the lie to any simple dichotomy of urban-versus-rural polarisation.

The subsequent April occupation of Bangkok's central commercial district was unprecedented. Then, after weeks of stalemate between Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva's weak coalition government and the red-shirts, the government finally offered a five-point peace and reconciliation plan on 3 May to avert any further bloodshed.

Red-shirt leaders had initially welcomed the government's proposed declaration of an election on 14 November and the dissolution of parliament in September, but hardliners subsequently took over and made several demands which the government rejected. The government cancelled the peace plan, declaring an ultimatum and setting up several live-fire zones warning people 'No Entry - Danger'.

While the bulk of red-shirts engaged in peaceful protest and the police and military were under strict orders from the government to use maximum restraint, there have been eruptions of violence, as on 10 April.

In addition to the 20 civilians killed in that day's clashes, a mysterious group of  black-clad snipers who appeared to be professionally trained soldiers deliberately targeted senior military commanders, killing a Colonel Romklao from the Queen's Guards Infantry Battalion. The government denounced this act as 'terrorism'.   

The red-shirts have enjoyed strong support inside the police force and among the ranks of a sharply divided military. The security group that provided dozens of guards to patrol the red zone in Bangkok was under the control of army Major General Kattiya Sawasdipol aka Seh Daeng.

General Kattiya (suspended by the Defence Ministry) led a hardline faction of the red-shirt leadership openly espousing violence and closely connected to ousted premier Thaksin. On 13 May this Rambo-style general was shot by a sniper's bullet and he died a few days later.

The red-shirts - Thaksin's mob or popular movement for reform?

In February the Thai Supreme Court had delivered a landmark judgement about the frozen assets of Thaksin, who is now in exile. The court ruled that $1.4 billion of these frozen assets, derived from his period in office as prime minster, were ill-gotten gains to be confiscated. Another $900 million were returned to Thaksin.

Two weeks later red-shirt leaders mobilised under the slogan of a 'class war' against the amart (the Thai expression for the elite). Tens of thousands of farmers and labourers from far-flung provinces marched on the capital Bangkok.

The Bangkok elite have long been serviced by people from Thailand's poorest provinces. The latter make up most of the domestic maids, cleaners and taxi drivers in the capital. But it has never occurred to the super-wealthy elite of Thai society - the landed gentry, the army officers, the Privy Council (advisers to the king) and the politicians - that these uneducated masses might ever demand a real political say in how the country is run.

One legacy of Thaksin's skilful marketing of himself as a leader and tycoon who 'cares about the millions of poor voters' has been to increase their political involvement and their sense of empowerment. Thaksin had, by default, made them realise that their votes were important and that people outside of Bangkok could be key to the making and breaking of  governments.

But it is not only the rural people who have been caught up in the red-shirt fever, but also the poorer city dwellers, lower middle class and some university lecturers as well, united less by any lingering loyalty to Thaksin and far more by a pervasive conviction that the country needs change and a new social order.

Dr Thanet Aphornsuwan, a historian teaching at Thammasat University, commented, 'This is the biggest mobilisation we have ever seen and real change could come.' But, he cautioned, 'the red-shirt movement doesn't have the leaders to take it onto the next stage.'

Lack of a reform programme

What of the red-shirts' list of demands? Plenty of fiery rhetoric, but where is their programme of reform? Every successful reform movement, rebellion or revolution has formulated a list of demands and articulated some kind of vision.

In an interview with this correspondent, Dr Weng Tojirakarn, one of the red-shirt leaders, was vague about his vision of the future: 'I believe in Buddhist teachings and human equality. Everybody must have equality of opportunity.' 

The red-shirts, in all their propaganda in the streets of Bangkok, have spectacularly failed to define any concrete ways to achieve a new Thailand liberated from the hands of the hated elite.

One reason for this is that most red-shirt leaders remain wedded to Thaksin, still a major funder of red-shirt protests, despite the efforts of some like Weng and Nattuwat Saikua to publicly distance themselves from the ex-premier. Thaksin was in frequent phone contact with many red-shirt leaders.

Physically Thaksin is in exile, but whether he is in Dubai, Cambodia or Montenegro - he has residences in all three countries - he casts a long shadow over the bitter hate-filled politics of Thailand today, which is polarised between the red-shirts, the ultra-royalist 'yellow-shirts' and the government (see box 'Who's who in Thai politics').  

The simple demand for elections, without any programme for social change, plays into the hands of various pro-Thaksin politicians and retired military officers.

What, then, is the true agenda of the red-shirt movement? Is it no more than a vehicle to mobilise the masses for Thaksin's benefit? As government supporters and the ruling Democrat Party see it, the movement is a means by which Thaksin can return from exile and recover his confiscated assets.

Or is the red-shirt phenomenon an incoherent coalition of interests with a common denominator: to celebrate the rising up of the poor, gearing up to move Thai society out of its feudal shell?

The answer is dualistic, contradictory and complicated. 

It is a very broad umbrella movement that is defined more by what it is against than what it stands for. 

The red-shirts are clearly against the strong class hierarchy steeped in feudalism and servitude and backed up by the military as a key force behind the status quo with tacit approval from the Privy Council.

However, there are many differences among the red-shirt leaders, who range from diehard Thaksin supporters who identify with his ruthless right-wing corporate-style leadership (almost identical to Italy's Berlusconi), opportunist politicians and corrupt businessmen to those on the quasi-left who seek to harness this right-wing populism to advance the interests of the rural masses and move Thailand in a more egalitarian direction.

Whither Thailand?

Among the burning debris of Bangkok lie the ruins of Thailand's deeply flawed political system that has been stripped of its legitimacy. The bitter polarisation of the Thai people, the hatred that has been fuelled and fanned by extremist rhetoric, and the orgy of destruction inflicted on Bangkok are ugly reminders that the system is in shambles.     

Red-shirt forces may now take revenge on the government in their strongholds in the rural north-east. Some are even predicting that some red-shirts will conduct guerilla raids on government installations in these provinces.

The Thai crisis is so serious, and the danger of escalation and violence spiralling out of control so alarming, that the United Nations and many international bodies had already urged both sides to show restraint and get back to negotiations. The argument for some form of international mediation is stronger than ever.

There are no easy solutions and no easy path towards reconciliation. If the prime minister repeats his offer of an early election on 14 November in this atmosphere of hatred and bloodshed, it will not solve anything. With Abhisit and his cabinet colleagues ranked as hate figures among some extremists, some provinces of the north-east will now be no-go areas for candidates who are not with Puea Thai, the political party aligned with Thaksin and the red-shirts.

Indeed, Thaksin is the X-factor in the conflict who hopes to benefit from all the turmoil. The illness of the king and the problem of succession further complicates the situation.

If the more rational and reform-oriented red-shirts could ditch the Thaksin connection and focus on an agenda for social, economic and political reform, a national social compact could emerge in conjunction with people's organisations, NGOs and some trade unions.

If the nation is to end this conflict primarily between elites, then a national unity government committed to social justice and reform needs to be set up. It has to ensure that the people from the poorest provinces are well-represented for the first time. And international mediation may be needed to facilitate the delicate process of  reconciliation, rebuilding and creating a new Thai political order. u

Tom Fawthrop is a journalist and filmmaker based in Thailand. He is currently working on a documentary Killing the Mekong - Dam By Dam (Eureka Films). For more details, email EurekaCuba@gmail.com.

*Third World Resurgence No. 236, April 2010, pp 30-32