Long
in crisis, Thailand is close to the brink. Without compromises on both sides,
it may well collapse
LOOK
on and despair. A decade ago Thailand was a shining example—rare proof that in
South-East Asia a vibrant democracy could go hand-in-hand with a thriving
economy. Contrast that with Thailand on May 7th, left in disarray after the
Constitutional Court demanded that the prime minister, Yingluck Shinawatra
(pictured), step down with nine members of her cabinet over her decision to
remove the country’s head of national security in 2011, in favour of a
relative.
For
all the pretence of due legal process and distaste at Ms Yingluck’s nepotism,
this was not an offence that merited the ousting of a prime minister. Instead,
the ruling is a measure of quite how far Thailand has fallen, how deeply it is
divided and how badly its institutions are broken (see article). Unless Thais
step back from the brink, their country risks falling into chaos and anarchy,
or outright violence.
In
kicking out Ms Yingluck, the court accomplished what months of anti-government
street protests in Bangkok, led by a firebrand populist, Suthep Thaugsuban, had
failed to bring about. It is far from the first time the court has ruled
against her. To break the impasse on Bangkok’s streets, she had called a
February election, but the opposition Democrat Party boycotted it, and the
court struck down the results. Ms Yingluck had been limping on as a caretaker.
The message for many Thais is that the court is on the side of a royalist
establishment bent on purging politics of Ms Yingluck, who came to office three
years ago in a landslide election, and—especially—her brother, Thaksin
Shinawatra, himself ousted in a coup in 2006 and now in self-imposed exile.
The
entire apparatus of government has been sucked into the conflict between two
visions of Thailand. For Mr Thaksin’s supporters, his emergence in 2001 marked
a welcome break from decades of rule by corrupt coalitions or military juntas.
Helped by a new democratic constitution in 1997, he gave a voice to Thailand’s
majority, many of them in his northern and north-eastern heartland. In their
view, he transformed the lives of the poorest with health and education
programmes, and he challenged Thailand’s privileged elites in the bureaucracy,
the army, the judiciary and the palace corridors of an ailing King Bhumibol
Adulyadej. To the Thaksinites, both the recent street protests and the
Constitutional Court’s activism are the work of an establishment that cannot
accept the results of the ballot box: in 2001, 2005, 2006, 2007 and 2011
parties loyal to Mr Thaksin won elections fair and square, and Ms Yingluck’s
Pheu Thai party would have done so, too, in February.
There
is merit in this interpretation. But so is there in what the Shinawatras’
enemies have to say. In particular, they charge that Thaksinite governments
have been run for the benefit of his rural supporters (a mad scheme to
subsidise rice threatens to bust the budget) and of the billionaire himself.
There is something creepy about the way that the exiled, unelected Mr Thaksin
has been calling the shots from Dubai.
Now
stalemate beckons. An election is supposed to happen. Ms Yingluck should have
had the right to confront her undemocratic royalist foes at the ballot box. But
an election is no solution because the opposition will boycott it. Mr Suthep
has proposed a “people’s council” of the great and the good, but Thaksinites
will rightly see it as a stitch-up designed to keep them out. The
irreconcilable differences between the two sides have swallowed up Thailand’s
courts, its army and even the monarchy—and left Thailand at the abyss.
Investors, having borne years of simmering discontent, are taking fright. Blood
has already been spilled this year. The prospects of wider violence are growing
as Thaksinite supporters threaten conflict on the streets.
Stop and think
If
Thailand is to avoid that catastrophe, both sides must now step back from the
brink. The starting point is the devolution of Thailand’s highly centralised
system of governance. At the moment only the capital has a democratically
elected governor, yet all 76 provinces should also have one—this would not only
help a rumbling Muslim insurgency in the south, it would also offer a prize to
Mr Suthep, because the winner of the national election would no longer win all
the power. In return for this reform, the Democrat Party must pledge to accept
election results; and in return for that, the Pheu Thai should run without a
Shinawatra at the helm.
Goodwill
is in short supply in Thailand today. Yet by fighting on, the two sides risk
bringing ruination to their country. Compromise would, by comparison, be a
small price to pay. The Economist
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