Thailand’s political and social fabric is fraying. Indeed, the country’s future looks as shaky as it has never been.
In other prosperous democracies, the middle class provides the glue that holds society together. In Thailand, by contrast, the bourgeoisie, centered in Bangkok, is barely emerging as a social and political force. Instead, for a half-century, an unspoken social contract among four broad groups has held Thailand together: the “Palace” — a euphemism used here to avoid violating draconian lese majeste laws; big business, the custodian of economic growth; the military, which ensures, first and foremost, the sanctity of the Palace and the moral values it represents; and the common people, mostly rural and urban poor, who accept the rule of the other three estates.
Thailand’s national mythology is that it is a happy Buddhist country, a “land of smiles” bound together by compassion and harmony under the benevolent grace and blessings of the Palace and the generosity of big business. The less fortunate classes are docile, content to accept their subservient roles and satisfied with the social welfare, no matter how skimpy, provided by their betters.
The poor and the military hold the Palace in genuine reverence. Palace staff and people in the countryside kneel before the monarchy not merely as a matter of protocol, but out of genuine love and respect.
Forbes magazine last year ranked the Thai monarchy as the richest of all the world’s royals, putting its net worth at US$30 billion — a figure that locals consider too low. That royal wealth necessarily entails substantial investments in and with Thai big business in all sectors of the economy. Thailand’s blue-chip firms gain much from direct involvement with the Palace and from social proximity to it. One Hong Kong scion whose wife is from an elite Thai family estimates that perhaps 20 families control most of Thai business.
The Thai military is constitutionally subordinate to civilian leadership, but in reality it owes its allegiance to the Palace. In the current crisis, army generals have told the public that they are reluctant to use force, a position that was not theirs to take.
How long this inactivity will last is anyone’s guess. Mobs wearing red shirts to symbolize their loyalty to former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra are now camped out in two major commercial areas, paralyzing a large part of the local economy. They demand that the government dissolve the current legislature immediately, and that Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva resign because he was never elected and is viewed as a front man for the traditional anti-Thaksin monied groups.
Many believe that the current crisis will pass, and that Thailand will revert to its historical harmony among the four groups. But this view ignores the country’s new political dynamics.
First and foremost, Thailand’s lower classes have decided that docility is a thing of the past. They are angry and frustrated by the status quo. Save for the handouts they got under Thaksin, they benefited little from the economic growth of the past three decades. The vast gap between the urban rich and the rest has grown worse over the years, with no discernible “trickle-down” effect.
Even in the prime commercial districts and chic neighborhoods of Bangkok, the nation’s richest city, a short walk reveals miles of cracked pavements, piles of uncollected garbage, and rats scurrying freely. Such wrenching sights are typically accompanied by the pungent odor of a sewage system that is more a problem than a solution, especially during the rainy season.



