Rupak D Sharma in Bangkok
Asia News Network
Publication Date : 26-02-2010
In Thailand’s colouful political landscape, a colourless group has emerged
In the Land of Smiles, political preference is largely reflected by two colours: red and yellow.
In the present context, yellow refers to the pro-government faction and red denotes the anti-government camp.
These two groups are equally influential and together drum up support of more than 70 per cent of the country’s voters. But the rivalry between the two has often triggered conflicts in the once peace-loving country, generating a feeling of us-versus-them among many citizens. This polarising characteristic has turned the two colours into the hallmark of chaotic Thai politics.
The rivalry took its root around four years ago when protesters clad in yellow shirts staged demonstrations accusing then prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra of being corrupt, abusing power and hatching ploys to convert the kingdom into a republican state.
The protests calmed down after Thaksin was removed in a bloodless coup backed by the military in September 2006. But the muted demonstrators once again slipped on their yellow garb and started making noises on the streets of Thailand, particularly Bangkok, after the victory of the Thaksin-backed party in the general elections following restoration of democracy in 2007.
This gave birth to the red-shirt group, a band of people, who are mostly staunch supporters of Thaksin—the person loathed by the yellow-shirt group but deemed a charismatic leader by the reds.
Thaksin was a popular figure among people of all walks of life when he first came to power in 2001. His government was also the first in Thailand to serve a full five-year term in office and was elected for a second term.
But some of the decisions he made, like approval of a four-billion-baht loan from Thailand’s Export-Import Bank to Burma to buy telecom services from his family-owned company, Shin Satellite, portrayed him as a clone of corrupt leaders who had entered politics only to fill their own pockets.
Thaksin’s other moves like supporting the less privileged in northeastern and northern Thai provinces by providing easy credit or writing off debts were also being closely watched by the elites in Bangkok. And when the appropriate time came, they accused him of trying to establish his own kingdom inside the Kingdom of Thailand to marginalise the role of the monarchy in the country.
Thaksin has bluntly rebutted these charges but considering the number of supporters he has in those rural areas, he has—knowingly or unknowingly—created his own empire there.
In these areas, Thaksin is considered an idol by many, largely because of the policies he had introduced to uplift the living standard of the less privileged while in power. And the people happily come to his support whenever they feel he’s being bullied by the Bangkok elites. This is the truth the yellow shirt group cannot swallow.
The yellow camp believes Thaksin has been able to drum up support largely because of the money that he is showering on them, and nothing more. The yellow group also thinks the areas where Thaksin has a stronghold, especially in the northeastern provinces, are filled with illiterate and poor people, who do anything for money without considering the consequences.
Driven by this perception, the yellow camp in 2008 proposed that the voting rights of rural masses be curtailed and two-thirds of the parliamentarians be handpicked, rather than elected through polls.
These views have led the red camp to reckon the yellow shirts as a bunch of conservatives trying to reinvigorate the gradually disappearing feudal system in the country to continue keeping the less privileged in the shadows.
This deep-seated hatred for each other have time and again morphed into mass protests, the most (in)famous being the November 2008 seizure of Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi International Airport by the yellow-shirt group.
The group, at that time, demanded that the Thaksin-backed government step down and the protests were able to eventually unseat the government, but the closure of one of the busiest airports in Southeast Asia caused tourist arrivals to plunge 23 per cent the following month.
Then in April last year, the red-shirt protesters went on a rampage on Bangkok’s streets to throw out the yellow-shirt-backed government of Abhisit Vejjajiva. The consequence was same—a 22-per-cent dip in Thailand’s tourist arrivals.
The country is now facing another round of demonstrations ahead of the Supreme Court ruling on whether the state can seize Thaksin’s assets worth US$2.2 billion which were frozen by the military-appointed government following his ouster in September 2006.
(By the time this magazine comes out, the court verdict—considered the mother of all the verdicts on Thaksin—will be out, which will sketch the future course for Thai politics.)
Thailand should consider itself lucky as these political turbulences still have not dampened the investment climate in the country. Last year, foreign investors expressed commitment to pour in a record 723.4 billion baht (US$21.7 billion) in Thailand.
But the manner in which the political masses are turning into more organised forces —aiming to create instability in the long run—only create doubts on the prospects of foreign direct investment in the country.
The Nation (Thailand) recently reported that there are 459 red-shirt schools across the country. These schools offer “lectures on topics from political ‘lies’ and strategies of the aristocracy to political organisation”, The Straits Times said.
“Lectures at sessions like these, which are multiplying around the country, are also broadcast on the red shirts’ People TV channel, vastly extending their reach.”
The yellow-shirt group also disseminates its own propaganda using its own TV channels and newspapers. And the group’s professionalism in organising demonstrations and mobilising people was seen in 2008 when it captured the Prime Minister’s Office and surrounding areas for three months.
But amidst this catfight between the red and the yellow, a new breed of animal has emerged in Thai politics. It is a colourless group or simply a “politically neutral” force.
An ABAC survey—considered “reasonably reliable” – upon matching 6,000 samples of 28 provinces recently reached the conclusion that 53.4 per cent of the voters at present support neither the red camp nor the yellow.
“That is a crucial paradigm shift in the domestic political landscape. It clearly shows that a growing number of citizens, having lived through more than five years of political turbulence, have decided that neither the red nor yellow factions can provide real answers to the country’s deteriorating condition,” Suthichai Yoon, group editor of Nation Multimedia Group, wrote in his recent column.
“(This group) may not have a clear organisational structure or mobilisation mechanism to let their views be known and make a real impact, but it is clear that this is the echo of an increasingly powerful voice.”
This group—as expected—will also closely analyse the difference between rhetoric and real championing of the people’s interests, giving them power to vote wisely. After all, as Suthichai said, being neutral doesn’t mean being wimpish or undecided.Published in Asia News Feb 26-March 11 2010
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