Early last February I flew out of Bangkok, having spent a mostly agreeable year living in the Land of Smiles. But nobody was smiling when I left. As my cab sped towards the airport, 60,000 Thais lined the streets, all angrily shouting, “OUT! OUT! OUT!”
“Why does this keep on happening to me?” I sighed.
Thankfully, I soon discovered that the demonstrators were actually demanding the resignation of their colourful PM, Thaksin Shinawatra. It took a further two months of reasonably widespread public protest but, following a private audience with the King, the beleaguered billionaire finally stepped down a fortnight ago, despite having just won a snap general election.
While his Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais) party took about 57% of the vote, most other parties had boycotted the poll, and the protest vote was massive.
His resignation isn’t altogether surprising. Although public protests against Thaksin seriously intensified in December, when it was revealed that his family wouldn’t pay any tax on the 73 billion baht (almost ¤1.5 billion) sale of their telecommunications company Shin Corp to Singapore’s Temasek Holdings, opponents had been demanding his resignation for months. However, the sneakiness of the Shin Corp deal, and the sheer smugness with which the PM announced that it would be totally tax free, may have been his final undoing.
Not everybody was happy to see the prime minister go. While he was extremely unpopular with the educated and highly vocal middle-classes, it was mostly poor farmers, rural villagers and working-class Thais who kept him in power.
“He’s fought against drugs and he’s fought against the Mafia,” one tearful taxi-driver was quoted as saying, when his resignation was announced. “I’m very sad.”
It’s certainly true that Thaksin fought against the illicit drug trade. When this writer arrived in Thailand in February 2005, the country was only beginning to recover not just from the December 26th tsunami, but also from the government’s hugely violent anti-drug blitz, in which 2,500 people lost their lives in just three months.
When asked was this not excessive force, the prime minister explained that a leading Buddhist monk had assured him that, “to kill a yaa-baa (drug) dealer is of no more consequence than swatting a mosquito.”
As for fighting against the Mafia, the question has to be asked – which one? The country is notoriously corrupt, and rife with drug, prostitution and gambling rackets. The police and the military are very poorly paid, with the result that many members of both forces abuse their positions for their own personal benefit.
In Bangkok, the traffic police openly and routinely demand bribes, which are known locally as “tea money.” On the islands of Koh Samui and Koh Pha-Ngan – hugely popular destinations for Irish backpackers and holidaymakers – the standard rate for any ‘farang’ (westerner) busted with a bag of marijuana is 50,000 baht (¤1,000). If you look like you’re worth more, they’ll inevitably demand more. Whatever they ask for, it’s always advisable to pay. As harrowing books like Colm Martin’s Welcome To Hell testify, the notorious Bang Kwang prison (colloquially known as “the Bangkok Hilton”) is no place to be.
But it’s at government level that Thai corruption is most obvious. A number of recent opinion polls suggest that the people feel that their government is actually the biggest Mafia of them all. Throughout the last twelve months, Thaksin and many members of his cabinet have been besieged by scandals and corruption charges. Many of these were related to Bangkok’s newly built Suvarnabhumi Airport.
There was outrage when it was alleged that massive bribes had been paid to Thai officials by an American firm in relation to the sale of CTX 9000 baggage bomb detectors. When cracks appeared on the sides of the runways and on the roof of the main terminal, the construction contracts were brought into serious question.
A more recent controversy involved Thaksin’s younger sister using a military jet to ferry friends up to her birthday party in Chiang Mai (the Shinawatra family’s hometown). Accusations of the PM and his relatives treating the public purse as if it were their own have inflamed the nation.
Thaksin first came to power in January 2001, after winning a landslide victory in compulsory nation-wide elections – the first in Thailand to be held under strict guidelines established by the 1997 constitution.
At the time, he publicly stated that his ambition was to remain in power for four consecutive terms (or 16 years). Although living standards have improved somewhat for poor rural farmers, the country’s economy remains shaky and the turbulent political situation in the deep South has worsened considerably under his watch.
For the most part, thick-skinned Thaksin has shrugged off his detractors, and occasionally even mocked them. At a televised press conference in government buildings last winter (the first of its kind in Thailand), the PM used a child’s toy – which emitted a buzzing sound similar to the ‘wrong answer’ ones used on quiz shows – to fend off questions which he found to be “not constructive.”
Non-constructive questions included anything about the airport scandals or the troubled deep South. While the stunt angered print journalists (the following day’s Bangkok Post headline read 'Thaksin toys with media: Reporters not impressed'), it played well on TV, with the Thai equivalents of Jay Leno and Conan O’Brien all featuring it approvingly on their shows.
Last October, he publicly announced that any province that didn’t vote for his Thai Rak Thai party in an important by-election would be last on the list for any government funding. When challenged about this, he replied, “I’m a straight talker – I won’t beat about the bush. Provinces that don’t vote for us will not get priority.”
The last few months have seen the PM resorting to populist publicity stunts to counteract the protests. He presented his own reality TV show in January, in which he spoke to the poor and impoverished, and handed them land and money from his own pocket. In February, he threw a free street feast for tens of thousands of locals in Chiang Mai.
However, such gestures are easily afforded when you’ve just pocketed a 73 billion baht tax-free windfall. The controversial sale of Shin Corps to a Singaporean company (Thaksin had amended alien-ownership laws to facilitate the deal) provoked the middle-classes into months of massive street demonstrations that just wouldn’t die down. Last Tuesday, his opponents got their wish when he finally agreed to go. He will remain as caretaker prime minister until parliament selects his successor.
But it’s doubtful he’ll be gone for long. The real reasons for his resignation probably have more to do with not upsetting the monarchy. Thailand’s beloved King Bhumibol Adulyadej – the world’s longest serving monarch – celebrates his diamond jubilee in two months. While the King wields no political power, his influence over the people is enormous. In a country where saving face is everything, and offending royalty a serious crime, it would be absolutely unthinkable for Thailand to be in political turmoil for the celebrations. “We have no time to quarrel,” a tearful Thaksin told the nation, when he stepped down.
While his resignation will have little immediate impact on tourism and foreign investments, it’s worth noting that Thai democracy is still fledgling, and military rule has been the norm in the country for the last century. However, unless something unexpected happens, few political observers will be surprised to see Thaksin make another bid for power once the jubilee celebrations are over.