One year after he was re-elected in a landslide, Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra has been forced to dissolve the National Assembly and call a snap election. Although his Thai Rak Thai party commands a 75 percent majority in the assembly, Thaksin is embattled. He remains immensely popular with rural voters and the urban poor, who comprise more than 60 percent of Thailand's electorate, but he has been battling a fervent Bangkok-based insurrection against his rule by the intelligentsia and middle classes.
They accuse Thaksin, Thailand's wealthiest businessman, of corruption and treason for the tax-free sale of his family-owned Shin Corporation to the Singapore government's Temasek Holdings for US$1.9 billion. Thaksin's rapid reversal of political fortune attests to the limits of the ballot box, as well as to democratic shortcomings that now beset a host of developing countries, including regional neighbors such as the Philippines.
Until recently, Thaksin appeared to be as unassailable at home as he was bold and credible abroad. Exploiting Thailand's deep urban-rural divide, Thaksin bulldozed his way to power in 2001 on a populist platform. He stirred up national pride and promised rural Thais that their country would rise to greatness following the devastating 1997 economic crisis.
A raft of populist policies underpinned his first four-year government, from rural debt suspension and cheap universal healthcare to handing out US$25,000 to each of 77,000 villages for entrepreneurial start-up funds. Reminiscent of development strategies prevalent in East Asia, Thaksin picked strategic niche industries to propel Thailand's economic expansion, focusing on automobiles, fashion, food, healthcare and tourism.
In foreign affairs, Thaksin carved out his own space on the international stage with ambitious regional cooperation schemes anchored around the 25-member Asia Cooperation Dialogue (ACD), the Ayeyawady-Chao Phraya-Mekong Economic Cooperation (ACMECS) and a clutch of bilateral free-trade agreements with the major powers, including the US, China, Japan, India and Australia.
The ACD was designed to make Thailand the political center of gravity in Southeast Asia; ACMECS was to make it the region's linchpin of economic development; and the bilateral agreements would cement relations with the biggest players in the region. At his zenith, many saw Thaksin as a worthy successor to former Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohamad, buoyed by authoritarian rule at home and assertive leadership abroad.
Voters overwhelmingly returned Thaksin to office in February last year. But his personal popularity then plummeted, owing to the spate of separatist violence in the Muslim-dominated south and the scourge of corruption. Sins overlooked during his first term -- from harassment of the media and coercion of civil society groups to extrajudicial killings in an anti-drug campaign and conflicts of interest that benefited his Shinawatra telecommunications empire -- soon caught up with him.
The shady sale of Shin Corp in February galvanized long-simmering discontents. The deal was viewed as the epitome of Thaksin's sophisticated corruption and a betrayal of his proclaimed nationalism, thus exhausting his moral authority and political legitimacy. The company's value quadrupled during Thaksin's reign, with assets such as satellites, a mobile phone service and an airline having originated from state concessions that were conditioned on majority Thai ownership. For Thaksin's opponents, the sale of these assets to a foreign company owned by a foreign government amounted to putting Thailand's economic sovereignty on the block.
Thaksin's days appear numbered, for Thailand seems poised to eject a popularly elected prime minister. The number of street protesters has since swelled from five digits to six. His predicament illustrates the common dictum in the politics of developing countries where rural electorates elect governments but urban elites get to throw them out.
Indeed, the anti-Thaksin coalition will settle for no less than his ouster from office, permanent banishment from Thai politics and possibly exile. But the opposition has decided to boycott the snap election, which his Thai Rak Thai party would likely win again by a large margin, because Thaksin has captured and manipulated the institutions established by the Constitution to safeguard against graft and uphold separation of powers within the state.
Thai politics has thus reached an impasse. Only intervention by King Bhumibol Adulyadej, who is widely revered, seems capable of saving the day. In a fiercely contested battle between Thaksin and his opponents, King Bhumibol is the fundamental difference between Thailand and the Philippines, where "people power" revolts regularly undermine and sometimes overthrow presidents. The king's intervention would put an unconditional stop to the street confrontations.
But the Thai people cannot afford to look to their aging and ailing king every time they have a problem. Moreover, a royal intervention would risk returning Thailand to square one, seeking to rewrite its Constitution to remedy the shortfalls of its democratic culture.
What Thai democracy needs in order to mature is not a political safety net, but a vigilant citizenry to ensure disciplined enforcement of the Constitution's provisions and institutions, so that they can no longer be hijacked by the likes of a Thaksin.
Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a professor of political science at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok, is currently a visiting research fellow at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies in Singapore. Copyright: Project Syndicate
US President Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) were born under the sign of Gemini. Geminis are known for their intelligence, creativity, adaptability and flexibility. It is unlikely, then, that the trade conflict between the US and China would escalate into a catastrophic collision. It is more probable that both sides would seek a way to de-escalate, paving the way for a Trump-Xi summit that allows the global economy some breathing room. Practically speaking, China and the US have vulnerabilities, and a prolonged trade war would be damaging for both. In the US, the electoral system means that public opinion
They did it again. For the whole world to see: an image of a Taiwan flag crushed by an industrial press, and the horrifying warning that “it’s closer than you think.” All with the seal of authenticity that only a reputable international media outlet can give. The Economist turned what looks like a pastiche of a poster for a grim horror movie into a truth everyone can digest, accept, and use to support exactly the opinion China wants you to have: It is over and done, Taiwan is doomed. Four years after inaccurately naming Taiwan the most dangerous place on
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
Wherever one looks, the United States is ceding ground to China. From foreign aid to foreign trade, and from reorganizations to organizational guidance, the Trump administration has embarked on a stunning effort to hobble itself in grappling with what his own secretary of state calls “the most potent and dangerous near-peer adversary this nation has ever confronted.” The problems start at the Department of State. Secretary of State Marco Rubio has asserted that “it’s not normal for the world to simply have a unipolar power” and that the world has returned to multipolarity, with “multi-great powers in different parts of the
RSS