Cracks in the citadel

P.S. SURYANARAYANA Singapore

The events following the Bangkok clashes signal an erosion in the army’s support to Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva.

Thailand has, in recent years, become a byword for political instability and negation of democracy. Clashes between security forces and anti-government protesters on the streets of Bangkok in early April worsened this image.

The April 10 showdown was the worst since the anti-military riots of 1992 in Bangkok. Abhisit Vejjajiva, a suave leader of the Democrat Party, was the target of the protesters’ ire. His suspected link to the Thai military bloc as its civilian proxy was not the sole reason for such fury. More infuriating to the protesters was the perceived manner in which he gained back-door entry to Thai politics as Prime Minister in 2009.

Solid foundation

For the Oxford-educated Abhisit, who drew inspiration from the writings of the Nobel laureate Amartya Sen, among others, the latest episode in Thailand’s crisis of democracy could not have been more acute. Yet, on April 12, when Thai Army Commander-in-Chief Anupong Paochinda declared his preference for ‘peace’ and suggested ‘dissolution’ of the House of Representatives as a potential crisis-buster, Abhisit’s critics saw cracks in his political citadel, which was believed to have been built on a solid foundation of the military’s support.

As this report was being written, before the mid-April national festive season, there were many serious questions that came to the fore. Was the army beginning to dump Abhisit as a leader unworthy of continued support? Was Thailand doing a full circle insofar as the army’s political ascendance in late 2006 was concerned? If so, the army could be seeking an apolitical role. Also, was the army, having ‘bungled’ its 2006 coup, beginning to realize the potency of ‘people’s power’?

The frenetic events of late March and early April were almost entirely traceable to the circumstances of Thailand’s considerable exposure to the current wave of political globalization. Indeed, General Anupong’s April 12 comments seemed to have been a response to the potential global criticism of a possible full-scope crackdown on the anti-government protesters.

The lead-up to Anupong’s statesman-like comments was long and politically complex, too. By then the anti-Abhisit protesters had mobilised people in huge numbers for rallies and pickets on an almost-daily basis from mid-March. In a more fundamental sense, it was also becoming clear that Thailand’s crisis of democracy could be traced to the penchant of the country’s military to stage coups.

The spark that ignited the protest rallies in late March and early April was former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra’s sense of helplessness over a verdict of the Supreme Court on February 27 that nearly $1.4-billion worth of his assets be seized by the state.

This amounted to a significant proportion of his assets, which were frozen following the coup against him in September 2006.

The court passed the order on the basis of a finding that he had resorted to large-scale ‘abuse of power’ as Prime Minister for two times. Thaksin, who is in exile and has professed innocence all along, began a push for his ‘vindication’ at home through political moves from his bases.

He was at the United Nations when the coup against him was staged in 2006 and saw, on television in his New York hotel room, his own downfall in the cameos of coup-related actions in Bangkok. He began his self-imposed exile in those circumstances, and returned home briefly when his political ally was Thailand’s Prime Minister for a short while following the ‘democracy-restoring election’ that the junta held in December 2007. Later, while travelling abroad, he jumped bail in a case against him in Bangkok and began another spell of self-imposed exile, which has continued to this day.

Thaksin’s supporters, often encouraged and even tutored by him from his bases through video-link addresses on the logic and logistics of protest, were as ready in mid-March as at any time before for a showdown.

A series of earlier protest rallies and actions had all come to naught, as seen from his standpoint. His supporters, banded under the banner of the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD), are known as the Red Shirts, so named after the colour of their attire.

Before the rallies in March-April in Bangkok, the UDD staged a particularly significant show of protest that turned out to be a major international attention grabber. The protesters stormed the venue of a regional summit that Abhisit was hosting in the Thai countryside in April 2009. The meeting was totally disrupted and he cut a truly sorry figure. The primary aim of Thaksin and his supporters at that time was to “deny” Abhisit the pleasure of playing a regional statesman after having come to power, in their view, by riding on the shoulders of the military leaders and their civilian minions.

Abhisit’s ascent as Prime Minister was the result of political permutations and combinations in the House of Representatives, which was constituted in the wake of the December 2007 poll held by the coup-masters. And, in the lead-up to Abhisit’s ascent, two successive Prime Ministers, who were both associated with Thaksin, were unseated through court orders in the context of protest rallies against him.

Thaksin and his followers saw those rallies as the handiwork of the military and civilian forces opposed to him and jealous of his popularity among the rural masses.

Opportunity for protest

From Thaksin’s perspective, an all-out offensive against Abhisit and his presumptive godfathers in the military establishment was required in such circumstances. The verdict in the assets seizure case was an “opportunity for protest” that Thaksin did not want to miss. That decided the political complexion of the protest rallies against Abhisit.

The UDD surprised the military establishment, the civil service and other elite groups and even the civilian political class by launching and sustaining what turned out to be virtually a movement and not just a string of rallies.

For almost a month, there was no breach of the peace by UDD activists and rank-and-file protesters, most of them from among the poor masses who were reaping the benefits of Thaksin’s populist policies when he was toppled. On a Sunday during this period, the number of UDD protesters across Bangkok exceeded 100,000, according to some unofficial estimates.

The authorities, too, did not deny such a figure.

Right at the beginning of this campaign, Abhisit deployed an estimated 50,000 troops and other security personnel. He also armed himself with powers under an Internal Security Act, which was enacted in some controversial political circumstances.

Blood donation drive

As the UDD campaign progressed, rallies remained peaceful and were confined to a few historical sites and high-profile areas of modern interest. At one stage, the protesters picketed near an infantry headquarters, but no confrontation ensued as both sides exercised restraint.

To sustain the momentum of the protest, the UDD launched a blood donation drive. Several containers of the donated blood were later splashed at the premises of the Prime Minister’s office, his residence, and his party headquarters. This ‘innovative’ protest, driven by the concept of ‘sweat and blood’, also passed off peacefully.

As the UDD showed no signs of relenting in its campaign, Abhisit declared a state of emergency in Bangkok and a few neighbouring areas on April 7. A political gamble meant to subdue the protesters, it only served to raise the stakes as seen from the UDD perspective. The soldiers and other security personnel were also under pressure from some sections of civil society to act decisively by using the emergency powers.

Clashes

It was in such a milieu that clashes broke out between the security forces and UDD activists on April 10 at two or three locations in Bangkok. It was not immediately clear who triggered these clashes. The rallying cries of the protesters were calls for Abhisit’s resignation, the dissolution of the House of Representatives, and snap general elections.

The ferocious clashes on that day left a trail of casualties. Over 20 people, mostly protesters, and at least four military personnel, including a senior officer, were killed. Unofficial estimates placed the number of injured at over 850.

Following the fatalities, the army proposed a ‘retreat’ or, more precisely, a pullback from forward deployment. The proposal was implemented and the protesters were asked to reciprocate by vacating their camp sites. But the UDD leaders would not budge. Sensing that they had ‘won’ at least one round in the battle of attrition, they organised a somewhat solemn funeral rally for the dead on their side. The mood on the side of the security forces was, in contrast, one of dismay.

The army was accused of using live ammunition for crowd control. Denying this, the military establishment and Abhisit maintained that the security forces had used live bullets only for firing warning shots and only in self-defence when attacked. The UDD sought to trash the claim that the security forces used rubber bullets after tear gas and water cannons had failed to control the crowds. Abhisit alleged that “terrorists” had infiltrated the ranks of the protesters in a bid to hurt Thailand.

In an amazing, though indirect, admission of failure, a Thai Army spokesman said on April 11 that an order had been issued to “monitor the health and morale” of the military personnel in the context of the previous day’s clashes with UDD protesters.

In a uniquely Thai tradition, the people, including soldiers, look to the much-revered constitutional monarch, King Bhumibol Adulyadej, for guidance in a national crisis. Until April 12, the King made no comment by way of an instructive parable or a definitive directive.

With at least one foreigner, a Japanese cameraman covering the event, reported killed by ‘live fire’ during the clashes, the Thai authorities found themselves in a particularly hot seat. An official probe into all aspects of the clashes was ordered.

For Thailand, the external fallout of the prolonged crisis was not confined to a Japanese victim. The Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN), one of whose founding members is Thailand, became seriously concerned. An elaborate comment by the Singapore Foreign Ministry echoed the sentiments of several other ASEAN member-states as well.

“If the situation [in Bangkok] is unresolved, it will have serious implications for Thailand’s future and the future of the ASEAN. Singapore hopes that all Thais, whatever their political views, will place the interests of the country first and reach a durable compromise that will enable Thailand to return to normality as soon as possible.

This is important not just for the Thai people but also for the ASEAN as a community. The ASEAN cannot progress if one of its most important members remains mired in political instability.” Such plain-speak diplomacy, very rare in the courtesy-bound and national-sovereignty-conscious ASEAN, was a telltale commentary on the Thai crisis.

The Frontline