The Regular Force Cadet Association

What about us?

Bangkok April 2010

Bangkok-based consultant Bret Bestic was a brigadier in the New Zealand Defence Force, he brings the debate to our doorstep.

What the Redshirts in Bangkok are really asking is: “What about us?” The same question that was asked by Blacks in the US until the late 1960’s, the Catholic Irish in Belfast until 1969, the Aboriginals in Australia until 1973 and the French peasants until 1791. An underrepresented, trusting and bewildered class has watched the evolution of their democratic rights falter in the guise of paternalism by slight of cunning hands and they have just seen the trick. They are now asking “What about us?”

One of many brittle aspects of the machinery of Thai politics is the casual, almost flippant, approach to loyalty and duty assumed by the Armed Forces and Police. The political views of senior officers are discussed publicly, as is their enthusiasm or reluctance to do what the Prime Minister or Ministers tell them. With the current Redshirt occupation of central Bangkok, the failure of either the Police or the Army to remove them when ordered to do so comes up in conversations all over town. The media uses the terms “Watermelon Soldiers” to describe soldiers who sympathise or openly support the Redshirts - green on the outside but red on the inside – and “Tomato Cops” for Police who feel the same way.

The Reds have occupied an area about 2 x 1 km in the heart of Bangkok’s high-rise retail and commercial districts and look like they are there to stay. Our street runs parallel to one of the main occupied roads and about 200 metres from it. There are barriers at each end blocking traffic getting into access roads but not ours. We walk past the barriers to get to work, shops and trains, guided by smiling Redshirts who allow passage through the gaps to pedestrians and selected traffic. The barricades make quite a sight with a base of car and truck tyres, supporting and interlaced with long sharpened bamboo poles, fronted and enhanced with concertinas of razor wire. The outer edges are draped with bike tyres and scrap sponge rubber that can be doused with petrol and ignited in a heartbeat. Some have netting suspended overhead for shade and to catch grenades and tear gas canisters.

Barricade opposite my office underneath the overhead commuter railway

These were not designed by any redshirted rustic rice tillers. They look formidable and they are effective against humans, but they are matchwood against a tank or armoured bulldozer. Unless of course they are burning and could immerse an armoured vehicle in the sticky burny stuff that tires become when ignited. Unless of course the Army has airport foam engines following the bulldozers. Unless of course the Reds know the burny sticky stuff blocks the periscopes the tank crews need to see where they are going and they will be incinerated if they don’t get out - - - -

It is like a scene from Les Miserable. At any moment, someone is going to appear out of the crowd, climb on the barricade, and burst into “Do you hear the People sing?”

Seven weeks into a siege that started with a fairly routine designer traffic jam, they are still there demanding the government stand down and face an immediate election. They have the cheek to suggest that democracy should prevail. (See a full explanation below if you really care). They stayed overnight at first, then over week, then over month, and soon it will be over two months. Inside a sort of “T” shaped occupation of major roads and intersections, they now have hundreds of tents and sleep on thin mats on the tarmac or concrete. There are showers attached to fire hydrants, toilet buses, generators, kitchens, first aid stations, stalls selling red shirt souvenir paraphernalia and huge loud speaker trucks that make Karaoke nutters break into orgasms. We are 400 metres from the nearest boomer. These go all day and bloody night with full volume speeches and Thai music, both of which are an acquired taste. They must hear the noise on the moon. But Thais generally both love loud noise and are immune to it. (When I become Emperor of the World, the Japanese will be ordered to recall and destroy every infernal karaoke machine ever made or we will nuke them again.)

Although both the Government and Reds have been seeking a political way out of a deepening cul-de-sac, the army and police efforts to dislodge or disrupt the Reds so far have been shoddy and amateurish, leading to accusations of half-hearted obedience to orders, hence the Watermelon and Tomato labels

In one of their early attempts, the Army arrived with tear gas but no masks for themselves and had to retreat when the swirling breeze blew their gas back on them. In another episode, faced with sticks, fireworks and rude words, the Army abandoned its Armoured Personnel Carriers and retreated several hundred yards, loosing rifles, rubber-bullet guns and the Carriers in the process. Very useful resupply system for the Reds. In a separate incident, when the police drove up in trucks and ordered protesters to leave or face arrest, the Reds climbed on top of the trucks to listen to what the Police had to say and refused to give the trucks back if anyone was arrested.

The Police left, taking no prisoners or souvenirs.

Inside the Occupation, the mood is cheerful but apprehensive, like a rugby crowd outside the grounds, confident of victory but not sure if there are any seats left. Everyone knows things can turn ugly very quickly. There are snipers and crackpots around who are happy to crate chaos just for fun by shooting anything and accusations of plain clothed police and soldiers infiltrating the Occupied Zone to open fire and cause panic if the Army makes an assault on the perimeter. Some of the Red shirts are ex Border Police from the Burma and Laos borders who are accustomed to shooting drug smugglers without asking questions and see no reason to modify that tactic.

Life has been disrupted, but not significantly. To stop staff getting involved in incidents or getting caught up in a mob, the UN has had several “Work From Home” days that are always relaxing. Some found it so exhilarating there are rumours they might try “Work in the Office “ days. The US Embassy has relocated some of its staff who lived in adjacent neighbourhoods and we may have to shift if the UN gets touchy. In the Silom financial District, shoppers walk gingerly past Police razor wire stretched along the footpaths ready to be strung across the road. The fact that the public may get slashed on it in the meantime has not influenced the positioning. Big ticket retail shops are bleeding because access to them has been blocked by the Occupation for weeks, so the rich shareholders are getting snotty, but that is why the Redshirts are where they are – right where it will hurt the pockets of some of the rich at least. No Gucci Bag this week, Darling.

How did all this happen?

 “It has been a long time coming”, said one long time resident farang (Thai for “foreigner”), “and it wont go away.” We had just been watching hundreds of protesters on motorbikes, in cars and packed onto the back of small trucks in a noisy but carnival procession down our street, all wearing something red, and snapping plastic clappers shaped like a heart or a foot. He was summarising many decades of social and political evolution in Thailand and the growing frustration of the rural and poor masses with the conduct of the self appointed ruling classes and, for some,  the monarchy.  The ruling classes comprise those whose wealth has been accumulated by genuine business acumen, manipulation, corruption, and skulduggery by the military, police, civil servants and academia. They are concentrated in and around Bangkok in palatial castles from which they gouge large chunks of the nation’s treasure.

Bangkok sprawls across 2,000 square kilometres of wetlands, providing shelter and succour for at least 11 million people, most of whom are neglected, poor and inadequately educated. But it also provides the political, commercial and economic base for the whole country and is the hive of the wealthy. The next biggest city is less that one million, which tells you a lot about relativity. Political activity outside of Bangkok passes unnoticed, which is why the majority of the Redshirts had to travel long distances from the rural north and east to occupied the heart of it. They can ill afford to be in Bangkok for prolonged periods but they are well funded and are here to stay this time.

Thai politics lurched from an absolute but weak monarchy to a selective democracy in a 1932 bloodless coup. The first Prime Minister, an Army Field Marshal, set the pattern for the military thinking they can run the country better than anyone else, and reluctantly prospering in the process. He changed the name from Siam (Pronounced See-am, a name of Chinese origin) to Thailand. To quote the newly opened Museum of Siam “His National Socialist regime produced a State Edict in 1939 (proclaiming) that the country would henceforth be called “Thailand” in accordance with its racially pure “Thai” inhabitants who were genetically superior to other “lesser breeds”.  An interesting snippet of history that is not widely cited these days. He also declared war on the Allies after the Japanese invasion, but the Thai Ambassador refused to deliver the declaration to the US government in a classic example of Thai selective obedience

The pattern of coup-corruption-coup-corruption became the norm with the military and occasionally the Police sitting arrogantly on the sidelines until they did not like the way the game was going. Then they would step in, remove the referee, change captains and tell the spectators it was for their own good. In all of this, the rich snuggled closer and closer to the public trough, civil servants sold themselves huge areas of land and commercial licences, manipulated the numerous constitutions to gain what they regarded as democratic legitimacy and evolved insider trading into an art form. The monarchy provided an oasis of stability and wisdom in the eyes of the rural poor who were being left to drift further away from any hope of influencing their own destiny. They revere him almost as a deity and his picture is everywhere throughout Thailand, displayed by the poor and rich alike as proof of their loyalty to the country. My love for the King is better than yours. Loyalty to the King, if the the monarchy as an institution is a strong flavour in Thai culture and politics. There is considerable unease over what will happen when the King dies, an imminent event. One view is that a six-month period of official mourning will provide a very convenient breathing space for the current antagonists and the Government is making increasing accusations that elements within the Reds are tarrying to overthrow the monarchy. That same monarchy has also grown fabulously wealthy and created synergies that kept the trough-suckers loyal. Conveniently the various constitution writers made sure there was a law of lese majesty[1] which means no-one can criticise the King or the monarchy under threat of imprisonment. The March 18 2010 edition of The Economist was banned here because it contained an article critical of both.

In 1997, political and financial mismanagement led to a financial meltdown that deflated the Thai Baht down to junk and stopped the economy dead in its tracks. The poor suffered the most and the city is still littered with skeletal remains of dozens unfinished high-rise buildings. Labourers and sub–contractors lost the most in unpaid wages and fees. Two months later, yet another constitution, called the “people’s constitution” by politicians desperate to get out of the headlights promised better human and civil rights and greater protection. It also somewhat belatedly included strict procedures for elections.

In 2001, an ex Police Lieutenant Colonel who had managed to become a billionaire in his off duty hours, won a landslide victory under those very rules. His Party, called Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais or TRT) had a populist agenda that gave recognition to the plight of the poor\ and the landless farmers even though he was hardly one of them and much to the concern of the Bangkok bunch who had assumed the right to govern. His name was Thaksin Shinawatra and he was no slug at making a buck. He was the sixth richest man in the world in 2003. Just before he became PM, he transferred his shares in “Shin Corp”, his family-owner telecomms company and Thailand’s largest, to the rest of his family, chauffeur, servants and Uncle Tom Cobley and all to hide his actual wealth. Some years later, he was cleared of any deceit in an 8-7 vote by the Constitutional Court. How lucky can you get?

Thaksin was hardly a model PM. His crack-down on drug trafficking lead to a quota system for the Police and thousands of extra judicial killings, the Muslim separatist movement in the south surged, the Avian Flu epidemic was badly handled and government servants did not like his plans for privatisation of such cosy arrangements as the Electricity Generating Authority. He did stay the full four year term however, the first PM to do so in Thailand, and won the next election (another first)  in January 2005 by an even greater margin, partially because of disjointed and fractious opposition and

partly because of his policies of looking after the rural poor. He actually used the concept of one-person-one-vote very successfully, which left the opposition petulant and furious.

But his luck was running out. In January 2006, he sold his family controlling stock in Shin Corp to a Singapore investment firm and managed to avoid paying tax on the nearly two billion USD profit. The traditional trough-suckers were beside themselves with envy and even his popular support faultered. His cabinet started to fall apart so he dissolved the National Assembly and called new elections to be on 2 April 2006, three years early, fault-footing the opposition again. They demanded constitutional reform, a standard tactic here when you don’t like the rules.

Enter the Democratic Party, then in opposition. With two other major parties, they said they would boycott the elections, and they did. Thaksin’s TRT won 66% of the popular vote, a considerable portion, mostly from the north. In the south, however, they did very badly and it looked like the TRT would not have enough parliamentary seats to form a government. Following a chat with the King where no tea was served Thaksin announced that he would take a break from politics and would leave as soon new elections could be held. These were set for 15 Oct 06.

A few days later, the King (who is supposed to be a constitutional monarch and not get involved in day to day stuff) suggested that the Constitutional Courts should resolve the deadlock. It did so by nullifying the previous elections and postponed the next ones to late November. Palace intrigues became even murkier.

On 19 Sep when Thaksin, who was still PM, was at the UN in New York the military patronisingly decided to take over, in the best of Thai traditions. They had the audacity to call themselves the Council for Democratic Reform. They appointed a General buddy to be PM and threw the book at Thaksin and the TRT including vote rigging and the show-stopping lese majeste bit. Things got messy for a while, but a new Court, established by the military, decided that the TRT had broken election rules and banned it. Executive members of the party were banned from politics for five years. Meantime Thaksin stayed in exile.

By July 2007, very little was happening so a new spontaneous ground-swell appeared, calling themselves the Democratic Alliance Against Dictatorship (PAD) comprising media activists, social activists, academics and leaders of worker's unions, opposed to what it calls the "Thaksin system", which is Thaksin' 'autocracy'; his domination of independent supervisory institutions and violation of the human right and press freedom. Picky picky.They choose yellow as their rally colour. Among other policies, one was to reduce the eligibility of the rural poor to vote, suggesting that only 70% had the political maturity to do so. In August, a national referendum approved a new constitution drafted by the military of course. It allowed for a Senate that was not composed entirely of elected members and there is little doubt that few understood what they were voting for, as would happen anywhere in the world if you asked the entire voting population to read and comprehend a written constitution.

New elections were held on 23 Dec 2007, without the TRT because they had been banned. A new party and TRT look-alike, the People Power Party, used the exiled Thaksin as an advisor. It won more seats than any other party, but not a majority. A coalition was formed and appointed a buddy of Thaksin, a Mr Samak, to be PM. Thaksin came home but kept his bulletproof jacket on, and skipped bail a few months later.

Then, the political comedy really begins:

PAD Yellow Shirts invade Government House, occupy airports and trains for a few days and reject Samak because he is a mate of Thaksin.

The Constructional Court rules a conflict of interests and Samak gets the axe, finding him guilty of being hired and paid by a TV cooking program after he became the prime minister.

Mr Somchai, Thaksin’s brother in law, is elected by the National Assembly as PM.

There are too many Thaksin supportes still around for the Yellow shirts, so they occupy government offices, forcing the Government to shift to an airport to continue business. Clashes leave several dead and may injured.

Still no new Government so they blockade Don Mueang, the old international airport, where the government held its temporary offices, and Suvarnabhumi International Airports, leaving thousands of tourists stranded and cutting off most of Thailand's international air connections. Several explosions and clashes occur in the following days.

After weeks of this, the Constitutional Court dissolves the governing People's Power Party and two coalition member parties and banned leaders of the parties, including Prime Minister Somchai, from politics for five years.

Now that the largest Party is stifled, the Democratic party and coalition partners appoint Abhisit as PM. That is like a red rag to a bull, so the Reds start their opposition tactics. In retaliation they storm the Fourth East Asia Summit in Pattaya, forcing its cancellation. Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva declares a state of emergency in Bangkok and five neighbouring provinces.

Red shirt" opposition supporter protests in Bangkok result in 18 deaths and over 800 injured.

And here we are

So, the Redshirts saw the parties they supported get big majorities in elections, watched as the military and other arrogant groups removed those Parties from parliament by various devices, including modifying constitutions to ban some political parties and all the associated senior politicians and now see the Old Order back where they claim is their rightful place Now they are saying What about us? We have the numbers, we know we can win an honest election and we are gong to stay put until we get one.

Got It? Did I explain why the Redshirts are asking: “What about Us?”

Would you ask the same question?

 

 

[1] Meaning inter alia: “an offense violating the dignity of a ruler as the representative of a sovereign power”