State
misinformation about the southern insurgency has fostered an undercurrent of
religious bigotry across Thailand
The
dispute over the planned construction of a mosque in the northern province of
Nan has reached an unprecedented level. But the anger being voiced by a growing
number of Buddhists there is fuelled by falsehood.
Many have cited the insurgency in the Malay-speaking, Muslim-majority South as the reason they don't want a mosque in town. More than 6,000 people in the southernmost provinces have died since violence erupted in January 2004.
There is general agreement among academics, researchers and historians that the conflict in the far South stems from Thailand's policy of forced assimilation at the expense of the separate cultural and religious identity of the Patani Malays.
When the region came under Bangkok's direct rule at the beginning of the 20th century, its Muslims did not challenge Siam's sovereignty. The rebellion only came into play in the 1960s, when heavy-handed rule triggered an armed insurgency.
When the fighting died down in the late 1980s and early '90s, there was an assumption that it had gone for good. But the absence of violence did not equate to peace.
With the Patani historical narrative still alive, it was only a matter of time before a new generation of Malay Muslims resurfaced to take up arms against the state. When it did, Bangkok was quick to dismiss the insurgency as the work of misguided, drug-crazed youths who had embraced a distorted brand of Islam. Placing the blame on religious fanatics offered a convenient way of hiding the truth: Their policy of assimilation had failed.
Though shallow and misleading, this official state line has been accepted by Thais almost without challenge. Many citizens, perhaps, thought it would be unpatriotic to question it.
Inevitably, the decision to play the religious card in the South has come back to haunt the state.
The anti-Muslim sentiment of protesters in Nan is just the latest example. Elsewhere, monks are demanding that Buddhism be recognised as the state religion. Both these groups have cited the conflict in the South to support their arguments.
Never mind that Thai Muslims outside the deep South are just as patriotic as their Buddhist neighbours and accept the legitimacy of the state. Never mind that the conflict in the Muslim-majority South is ethno-nationalist in nature and has nothing to do with Muslims in the rest of the country.
Instead, people find it easier to accept the official explanation at face value, because it avoids questioning a past failed policy. When the majority in the country shares this same attitude towards the conflict in the South, people don't mind being seen as bigots.
Who cares if scores of Malay Muslims suffocate to death in the back of military transport trucks, or if an imam in Narathiwat, Yapa Kaseng, is beaten to death in front of his son? And so what if no Thai security official has ever been punished for crimes like these?
Such popular sentiments are evidence the state has been successful in burying the Malay Muslims' historical grievances beneath a "good khaek versus bad khaek" narrative.
Bangkok let the genie of religious bigotry out of the bottle. Now authorities in Nan are having trouble convincing Buddhist protesters that their Muslim neighbours are the "good khaek" and should be left alone.
They should know that the anti-Muslim mindset is a product of their government's doing. But they should also know that it's never too late to tell the truth and set the record straight.
Many have cited the insurgency in the Malay-speaking, Muslim-majority South as the reason they don't want a mosque in town. More than 6,000 people in the southernmost provinces have died since violence erupted in January 2004.
There is general agreement among academics, researchers and historians that the conflict in the far South stems from Thailand's policy of forced assimilation at the expense of the separate cultural and religious identity of the Patani Malays.
When the region came under Bangkok's direct rule at the beginning of the 20th century, its Muslims did not challenge Siam's sovereignty. The rebellion only came into play in the 1960s, when heavy-handed rule triggered an armed insurgency.
When the fighting died down in the late 1980s and early '90s, there was an assumption that it had gone for good. But the absence of violence did not equate to peace.
With the Patani historical narrative still alive, it was only a matter of time before a new generation of Malay Muslims resurfaced to take up arms against the state. When it did, Bangkok was quick to dismiss the insurgency as the work of misguided, drug-crazed youths who had embraced a distorted brand of Islam. Placing the blame on religious fanatics offered a convenient way of hiding the truth: Their policy of assimilation had failed.
Though shallow and misleading, this official state line has been accepted by Thais almost without challenge. Many citizens, perhaps, thought it would be unpatriotic to question it.
Inevitably, the decision to play the religious card in the South has come back to haunt the state.
The anti-Muslim sentiment of protesters in Nan is just the latest example. Elsewhere, monks are demanding that Buddhism be recognised as the state religion. Both these groups have cited the conflict in the South to support their arguments.
Never mind that Thai Muslims outside the deep South are just as patriotic as their Buddhist neighbours and accept the legitimacy of the state. Never mind that the conflict in the Muslim-majority South is ethno-nationalist in nature and has nothing to do with Muslims in the rest of the country.
Instead, people find it easier to accept the official explanation at face value, because it avoids questioning a past failed policy. When the majority in the country shares this same attitude towards the conflict in the South, people don't mind being seen as bigots.
Who cares if scores of Malay Muslims suffocate to death in the back of military transport trucks, or if an imam in Narathiwat, Yapa Kaseng, is beaten to death in front of his son? And so what if no Thai security official has ever been punished for crimes like these?
Such popular sentiments are evidence the state has been successful in burying the Malay Muslims' historical grievances beneath a "good khaek versus bad khaek" narrative.
Bangkok let the genie of religious bigotry out of the bottle. Now authorities in Nan are having trouble convincing Buddhist protesters that their Muslim neighbours are the "good khaek" and should be left alone.
They should know that the anti-Muslim mindset is a product of their government's doing. But they should also know that it's never too late to tell the truth and set the record straight.
The
Nation, Bangkok
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