The political career of Thaksin Shinawatra is approaching its end. After
barely scraping victory in the snap election he had called for 2 April 2006,
even after much of the opposition had boycotted the polls, Thailand’s
caretaker prime minister has conceded the result’s fatal blow to his
authority. Two days on, he has announced his resignation, which will take
effect (as the constitution requires) within thirty days.
It wasn’t meant to be like this. Thaksin calculated that the poll - called
only thirteen months after a decisive electoral victory had reaffirmed the
mandate he first won in 2001, and in the face of a rising tide of urban
protest among Bangkok’s middle class - would consolidate his claim to be the
figure able to lead millions of poorer, rural Thais into boom times. His
achievement in lifting millions of small farmers out of poverty (albeit
increasingly into debt) was to be the foundation of the billionaire
premier’s third success.
When the moral backlash against the January 2006 sale of his ShinCorp
company to the Singapore government’s investment firm Temasek erupted into a
peaceful urban revolt, his response was to ensure that cash kept trickling
down to his loyal base in the boondocks - and then to appeal to them, “his”
people, to vote him another term.
Thaksin’s critics - who will become even more numerous now that his days in
office are numbered - argue that his executive hubris and greed are to blame
for his downfall. The evidence has been accumulating during his five years
in office, despite his numerous attempts to quash criticism with
criminal-defamation lawsuits designed to bankrupt any faultfinders. But the
dam only broke when he engineered a legal loophole that allowed his family’s
telecommunications conglomerate ShinCorp to secure a tax-free profit of $1.9
billion. In a country where the gap between haves and have-nots has been
widening under his governance, it was a deal too far.
The details of the sale confirmed the sense of grubbiness that surrounded
it. Thailand’s “first family” had holidayed with Singapore’s prime minister
Lee Hsien Loong and his family over the (western) new-year holiday.
Bangkok’s erstwhile power elite and tax-strapped middle classes were
incensed to realise that within a month Ho Ching, Lee’s wife, would be
overseeing decisions on Thailand’s satellites, internet servers, and its
biggest mobile-phone network. Even the deal-making Thaksin, who frequently
boasted of running the nation like a modern CEO, found such a brazen sellout
hard to justify.
What followed was remarkable: day after day of peaceful demonstrations as
tens of thousands of Bangkok residents made the city’s vast green Saman
Luang park their own, gridlocking the capital (and other urban hubs),
thwarting business decision-making, sapping further Thailand’s sagging stock
market, and provoking escalating political turmoil.
The days turned into weeks. The street demonstrations grew rowdier, tens of
thousands of voices demanded their arrogant leader get out of government,
the speeches to the enormous gatherings in Saman Luang became more
insistent, while a countervailing tractor-borne “caravan of the poor”
entered the fray with raucous declarations of loyalty to the besieged prime
minister. As Thailand’s body politic slouched toward constitutional chaos,
something had to give. In the end it was Thaksin Shinawatra.
An atmosphere of crisis
The election was the self-inflicted straw that broke the tycoon prime
minister’s back. Thailand is still reeling from the political chaos, but
Thaksin’s resignation at least offers an opportunity that the cavernous
power vacuum of the last three months will be filled in a way consistent
with a fraying constitutional order.
The bizarre election illuminates the challenge ahead. The three most
important opposition parties - the Democrats, the Chart Thai, and Mahachon -
agreed to recommend to their supporters to mark “no vote” on the
ballot-paper in the premature poll as the best way to register contempt for
Thaksin’s policies in a society where voting is mandatory.
In the capital, Thaksin’s unchallenged Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais)
party swept all the seats in an official turnout of 63% (2.6 million voters
in total, of whom 50.13% submitted blank ballots). Across Thailand, 10
million voters followed the opposition parties’ lead and abstained -
effectively a vote against Thaksin - or else ticked minority parties lacking
any chance of success. The combined results mean (unless and until new
elections are held) that by-elections will be required in thirty-eight
different constituencies where the pro-Thaksin candidate was unchallenged
and failed to win at least 20% of the votes; these contests are scheduled
for 23 April, and new candidates will be allowed to run.
In the aftermath, Thaksin put on a brave face but was clearly stunned by his
failure to secure the decisive result he had expected. "I want
reconciliation for the country", he emoted on a special ninety-minute
television programme, sentimentally titled Thaksin’s Heart Revealed. "I will
do anything. I have retreated so many steps that my back is against the
wall."
In his desire to appear statesmanlike, he offered to appoint a non-partisan
panel of eminent advisors - generals, judges and former heads of state to
consider the best way forward. If this was an uncharacteristically
conciliatory gesture, the offer to step down if opponents called off the
street protests and allow him to restore law and order was a sign of
desperation. “It is not necessary for me to be prime minister,” he conceded,
looking humbly at the camera. But electoral law required that any stand-in
would have to be from Thai Rak Thai, and Thaksin was prepared to start
unilateral constitution reforms if rival parties did not cooperate. The
opposition stood firm.
Thaksin confessed amazement when he heard the opposition Democrat Party, in
the shape of its baby-faced leader Abhisit Vejjajiva, appeal for royal
intervention - even though the message had been bandied about at
demonstrations for half a year. There was no indication that King Bhumibol
Adulyadej would invoke an emergency proviso in the constitution to replace
the prime minister; but Thaksin’s staff later caused frenzy among the press
corps by confirming that the prime minister was planning his own meeting
with the king on 4 April. Nothing extraordinary, reassured the advisers:
this is a previously scheduled meeting to discuss the celebrations for the
king’s diamond jubilee, his sixtieth anniversary on the throne. Thailand’s
constitutional monarchy evolved out of a theocracy, and the king is held in
awe by most of his subjects.
The opposition were not buying Thaksin’s damaged goods. As he clung to power
on 3 April, Bangkok’s strident anti-government protestors geared up to
disrupt any thought of a return to “business as usual”. Members of the new
People’s Alliance for Democracy (Pad) coalition summoned its supporters to
besiege the government’s headquarters, the Singapore embassy, and the
air-conditioned shopping malls where moneyed Thais take refuge from the
ordinary folk on the streets. It was not exactly “people power”, since even
in a degraded contest Thaksin’s party retained the loyalty of farmers in the
rice-bowls of north and northeast Thailand. But in the capital, where he is
considered by many citizens a nouveau riche interloper, Thaksin’s position
was looking increasingly precarious.
Media mogul Sonthi Limthongkul, who unleashed the anti-Thaksin campaign in
September 2005 - before the ShinCorp scandal broke - described the prime
minister’s belated offer to step down as a last-ditch grasp for power by
Thai Rak Thai and vowed that a huge street rally set for Friday 7 April
would proceed. Pad braced for a crackdown and arbitrary arrests by the
20,000 security troops assigned to crowd control. Suriyasai Katasila, a key
Pad leader, said: "When the prime minister makes an official announcement to
the public that he will resign, the alliance will end its rallies
immediately."
Chamlong Srimuang, the ascetic Buddhist general, led a successful 1992
protest that deposed Thailand’s last military junta. He has turned from
Thaksin’s political mentor into one of his fiercest foes. Chamlong announced
to his barefoot “Dharma Army” of Buddhist monks that Thaksin’s flawed
leadership had ushered in the darkest chapter of recent Thai political
history and denounced his offer of reconciliation as trickery: "Just picture
this - a thief broke into our homes, then asked us to remain idle for the
sake of reconciliation. This is unacceptable."
Abhisit Vejjajiva echoed the gathering contempt for the wounded prime
minister: "There are a lot of people who voted ’no vote’ this time. It shows
that most people think this election is not the answer to the problem right
now. And that’s the reason the Democrat Party didn’t join the election in
the first place.“Abhisit commented that it is”too late for national
reconciliation" and that his party would participate in new elections only
if Thaksin resigned first.
Somchai Phagaphasvivat, a political-science professor from Bangkok’s
Thammasat University, predicted a risk of street confrontation as long as
Thaksin attempted to hold the reins: "Thaksin wanted to legitimise his rule
with an outright victory, but victory here is very doubtful. Thailand is a
unified country, and you can’t say you have a majority only in some parts of
the country. When you talk about political legitimacy, it should be
widespread, not territorial."
The curtain falls
It has been almost too easy to vilify Thaksin; like the European counterpart
to whom he is so often compared, Silvio Berlusconi (now too also facing a
critical election), he provides plenty of ammunition to his enemies. In any
case, for superstitious Thais the omens could hardly have been worse for him
as his second term proceeded. The war on separatist insurgents in the three
Muslim-majority provinces in the south, which has claimed more than 1,300
lives since it reignited in January 2004, shows no sign of abating; an
inauspicious astrological alignment that predicted misfortune for this
triple-Leo leader caused the prime minister to suspend public speaking in
December 2005; and at the height of Bangkok’s anti-government protests in
March 2006, a deranged citizen of Muslim background smashed the revered
statue of Brahma at the downtown Erawan shrine after midnight (before being
beaten to death by outraged onlookers).
The destruction of the most popular religious icon in Bangkok, believed to
smooth life’s obstacles and bestow prosperity, precipitated great sorrow. A
white sheet soon shrouded the empty pedestal, and yellow crime-scene tape
supplemented the garlands of marigold, orchids and lotus blossoms draped
around its base. Pedestrians attempted to avert any sudden misfortune by
lighting thousands of joss-sticks; clouds of scent wafted over the traffic
fumes for many hours.
Thaksin said he was “appalled” by the wanton destruction, and ordered that
it be restored as soon as possible, incorporating any remaining shards.
Meanwhile, Thaksin’s wife directed Feng Shui specialists to rearrange the
layout of furniture inside the Thai Rak Thai offices.
The signals of misfortune turned out to be prescient. The chants of "Thaksin
get out!" that first resounded on the Saman Luang were gradually adopted by
a powerful minority of Thais across all generations and classes. The ruling
party’s attempt to dismiss them as xenophobes and moralists determined to
block modern development and trade agreements backfired. Thaksin Shinawatra
is on his way out. A political era in Thailand is ending.