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Friday, April 20, 2007

Cinematic Narratives in Hero: Primordial Father and Assassins

By Pandit Chanrochanakit

I. Introduction
This paper begins with questions on what message Hero,1 a film by Zhang Yimou, conveys to its audience and how the story operates to convey this message. The message is really a simple idea of “peace under one ruler,” but the ways it presents the unification of China through cinematic narrative is fascinating.

The national imaginary portrayed in Hero is of an archaic China in the midst of turmoil during a period of fighting among seven independent kingdoms. Qin, leader of the Qin kingdom, finally defeats his enemies to become supreme ruler of China. However, a number of assassins want to kill him, including Nameless, Sky, Broken Sword, and Flying Snow. Nameless wants revenge because Qin destroyed his “country,” Zhao. Nameless studied swordsmanship to achieve his goal of killing Qin. However, after meeting Broken Sword, an assassin who has decided to forgo his mission, Nameless decides not to kill Qin. Instead, he sacrifices himself for the ideology of “peace under one ruler.”

This paper attempts to interpret cinematic narrative of Hero and investigating how it contextualizes the story. The paper uses Slavoj Zizek’s Lacanian cinematic materialism to examine the idea of unification under one ruler. The investigation reveals that homoeroticism is working in the film to convince the audience of the importance of a primordial father, as represented by Qin's relationships with his would-be assassins, Sky, Broken Sword, and Nameless. Flying Snow represents a stain on the dominant male discourse; she therefore has to die in the film. This paper concludes that the ideals of unification and "peace under one ruler" are ways in which some Asians, director Zhang Yimou in this case, resist the Western Gaze on Asian politico-cultural practices. Hero convinces its audience that peace under one ruler is worth any sacrifice.

II. Colorization in Hero

William E. Connolly points out that film is an intersection between cinematic techniques and a critical story. Techniques are a kind of micropolitics, an “organized combination of sound, gesture, word, movement and posture through which affectively imbued dispositions, desires and judgments become synthesized.” 2 The micropolitics, as introduced by Connolly, help the audience understand how a film works or operates and what kind of ethic is promoted in a film. The micropolitics in Hero operates through colorization. “Colorization” originally meant tinting black and white film. But in my treatment, colorization means creating turning color film into a monotone. This is unlike Steven Spielberg’s Schindler’s List or Saving Private Ryan, that were deliberately shot in black and white film. Hero uses color film, but shoots scenes that are constructed in monotone, specifically in following the narratives of Nameless and Qin.

Hero can be separated into six acts. The color of each act plays a crucial role in creating a sense of place. Different moods are also set by using the colors black, red, blue, white, and green. As in Akira Kurosawa’s Rashomon, in which each protagonist describes the same event from a different perspective, in Hero, the narratives of different stories become a form of negotiation between Qin and the assassins. Each of these narratives is divided by color.

The stories told in Hero are depicted within a large frame or vast landscape unless a fighting scene needs a close-up shot. The landscape in Hero represents the homeland of everyone under the Qin kingdom. The royal palace of Qin is at the center of Hero. People’s identities are embodied in their behaviors, especially that of the assassins, who are all people of Zhao. We can see in the third act that the people of Zhao are characterized as appreciating calligraphy, which represents their deep scholarly roots. Rather than taking up martial arts or inventing weapons, they practice calligraphy until the last moments of their life. Ironically, all of the assassins are people from Zhao.

The first act depicts gloomy gray clouds over a valley rushing with chariots and cavalrymen. This scene presents China in turmoil and unrest. The terrain depicts China in drought, a vast field under gray cloud, but does not locate a specific place in China.

The second act, rendered in red tones, depicts scenes in the Zhao kingdom. We cannot tell how far Zhao is from the Qin kingdom to Zhao, but we can see Zhao’s vast landscape. The film shows crowds of foot soldiers and archers moved freely from place to place. There are no long marching scenes, but we also see Qin’s invincible artillery.

Nameless narrates different stories of how he crushed other assassins, starting with Sky. The duel between Nameless and Sky is described in detail to convince Qin that Nameless is a mighty warrior. We find later that the duel is made up. The scene is set in black, representing sadness and Nameless’ intention to kill Qin.

In the third act, Nameless tells Qin how he overcame Broken Sword and Flying Snow, two assassins that had almost finished their mission. These scenes are again rendered in red, representing jealousy, lust, desire, anger, and falsehood. Nameless tells Qin that he took Sky’s spear and traveled to Zhao, where he showed the spear to Flying Snow and Broken Sword. Flying Snow loves Broken Sword, but kills him because she him betraying her by making love to his maid. She also has intimate feelings for Sky, and wants to revenge him by killing Nameless. Nameless takes advantage of Flying Snow's weakness at hearing the bad news of Sky's death to kill her.

Qin finds out that Nameless lied to him about killing the two assassins. The color turns to blue in the fourth act, representing royalty, as Qin then tells his story. Qin valued Broken Sword and Flying Snow as self-respecting warriors who would never have committed the acts told by Nameless. He interprets Nameless' story as a conspiracy among the assassins to achieve their goal. Because Nameless’ skill with the sword is limited to within ten paces, he needs to get closer to Qin by hunting Broken Sword and Flying Snow. Qin believes Nameless had to convince them of his plan and his ability to carry it out.

In the fifth act, Nameless hesitates to kill Qin. The real story, revealed by Nameless, shows that Qin underestimated Broken Sword, who has persuaded Nameless to abandon the mission. The color turns into white, representing mourning, sadness, illumination, and purity. The story tells why Broken Sword abandoned his mission and why Nameless hesitated. Qin is delighted by Broken Sword’s words “All under Heaven,” meaning he has understood Qin’s ideal of a united China. Qin even lets Nameless have his sword so that he can make the decision whether or not to accomplish his mission. In the last act, the color turns black again when Nameless sacrifices himself for his ultimate goal, peace under one ruler.

According to Connolly, the micropolitics of colorization helps set the stage for macropolitical action by the audience. 3 The macropolitics of Hero, I assert, is the ideal of “peace under one ruler,” represented through the conversation between Qin and Nameless. This conversation is the only experience that the audience observes. All of the conversation between Qin and Nameless is colored black. The monotones of each act creates a color-blind effect in the sense that everyone and every object in that scene is the same shade. The audience is forced to perceive the particular messages being given by the colors; the audience is thus colonized by these messages.

III. Lack of Being
This section discusses Slavoj Zizek’s concept of the “lack of being.” 4 Zizek examines film using a Lacanian interpretation which focuses on the primordial father, the phallus, sacrifice, and jouissance or lack. 5 Zizek investigates the idea of the Thing, which appears within the diegetic space of cinematic narrative. The Thing emerges in different forms (e.g., alien, rock, robot) in various films. The gigantic buffalo in The White Buffalo, for instance, represents the primordial father as a sacred Native American animal. The buffalo is used to portray the wild and natural discourse of America which was disrupted by Capitalism, represented by the hunting of the white buffalo.6

In Titanic, the gigantic ship represents the phallus disrupted by intercourse between Jack and Rose, who are from two different economic classes. The sinking of the Titanic is punishment for disrupting the natural order of human society. 7

Zizek uses the notion of jouissance, or lack, to mean that people are convinced they are missing something. Sacrifice, on the other hand, means to fulfill the lack of the other. 8 These two notions can be used to explain the cinematic narratives of Hero.

The film begins with the appearance of the assassin, Nameless. He is searched for weapons before being allowed to attend a ceremony in honor of the new emperor. Nameless is a low ranking officer of Qin who has already accomplished his mission of killing assassins who threaten Qin. Later, we learn that Nameless is himself a war orphan from Zhao who wants revenge on Qin for destroying Zhao. His non-name shows that he has no real identity, and also represents his lack of a father. When Nameless encounters Qin, he cannot kill him because of he has discovered a primordial father, the founder of a nation. His lack of a phallus is represented by his self-sacrifice for his primordial father’s ideal.

Broken Sword represents the impotent phallus. Both his name “Broken Sword” and failure to kill Qin show that he is sexually impotent. Even though the film actually shows him having sexual intercourses with Moon and Flying Snow, these stories are told through Nameless’ words and Qin’s imagination. His thick, broken sword not only connotes his sexual impotence but also his inability to kill the primordial father. In addition, he persuades Nameless to abort his mission.

Broken Sword expresses male intimacy towards Nameless when he draws on the desert ground the words “All under Heaven," enabling Nameless to look through his eyes. When Nameless encounters Qin, he has already abandoned his goal of assassination.

Of the assassins, Flying Snow has the strongest commitment to killing Qin. Qin had killed her father, a Zhao general of Zhao. Flying Snow’s jouissance is to kill the primordial father. Her support of Nameless is outweighed by Broken Sword’s influence, since he and Nameless share the ideal of peace under one ruler. Flying Snow thus becomes a stain on their homoerotic male relationship and she needs to be eliminated.9 This story operates similarly to Solaris, when the reappearance of Harey disrupts the norm of the idea that “woman merely materializes a male fantasy.” 10 In Hero, the male fantasy is the unification of China. As a stain, Flying Snow must die to preserve the fantasy.

Qin is portrayed in Hero as a primordial father, a mythic figure, a tyrant, and a lover. 11 He explains that he needs to unify China to make life easier for people. Unification will lead to the pursuit of peaceful life by living under the same standard i.e. literature and measuring.

Sky represents the dead. He conspires with Nameless, but fails to accomplish his task. Unlike Broken Sword, Sky never gets close to achieving his mission. Sky sacrifices his spear to convince both Broken Sword and Flying Snow of his honorable intentions. Although at first Sky seems to be the most skeptical about the ideology "All under Heaven," we later find out that he did not die in a duel with Nameless. The duel is only a conspiracy between him and Nameless. After Nameless failed to assassin he “gave up” his sword to pay homage to his fallen friends.

This Lacanian analysis of the protagonists in Hero is the basis of the next section, where I show how these warriors are involved in a political economy of friendship, an exchange of homoeroticism.

IV. The Political Economy of Friendship in Hero

This section attempts to answer the set of questions: “What kind of political economy occurs in Hero?” “What is exchanged in the film?” “What is the use of value and exchange of signs in Hero?” My analysis reveals that the object of the economy or circulation among the heroes Sky, Nameless, Broken Sword, and Qin is a homoerotic relationship, in a sense that they believe in the same token “All under heaven.” They exchange and share this ideology at any cost, including their lives.

First of all we need to treat homoeroticism, which characterizes asymmetrical relationships between adult men and boys or young men. The older partner takes the initiative and gains sexual pleasure, while the younger (the boyfriend or loved one) gains the friendship and help of the older man. 12 The homoeroticism as shown in Hero is not relationships between adult men and boys but rather relationships among adult men who believe they can sacrifice their lives to achieve their goals. A warrior or a hero is a person who will sacrifice anything for the collective good of society. The collective good, in Hero, is peace, which can be achieved only under one ruler. Hence, the political economy of homoeroticism operates in that they exchange their “lives” for both an ultimate good and friendship.

In his documentary film Yang and Yin: Gender in Chinese Cinema, Stanley Kwan traces how gender issues are represented in Chinese films back to the 1930s.13 He shows how male intimacy or homoeroticism is presented in Chinese films, including the swordplay genre (e.g., in films directed by Chang Cheh), Kung fu genre (e.g., in films directed by Bruce Lee), and gangster genre (e.g., in films directed by John Woo). 14

In Kwan's documentary, Peggy Chiao, a film critic, expresses her feelings about male bonding, muscles, and nudity, saying, “it's like a male paradise. It’s all very sexual.” 15 Homoeroticism is not only depicted in half-naked male bodies, but also in male friendships, which are treated as prior and more important than male-female bonds. As director Chang Cheh remarks in Kwan's documentary, “Chinese hero has no truck with woman, he is much more concerned with his male friends.” 16

The boundary between friendship and homosexuality blurs. This can be seen in Chinese films that portray high levels of masculinity and intimate male bonding rather than heterosexual intimacy. Cheh further explains that, “It’s my reading of Chinese tradition, nobody thinks of [the novel] The Three Kingdoms as gay.” However, he admits that Freud’s interpretation of sexual drive is important. 17

Chinese films only present men as sharing passion and intellectuality. In The Killer, a film by John Woo, men help each other even when they are opposed to each other. 18 In this film, a detective extracts a bullet from a hit man’s arm. The scene reflects the hit man’s face showing both pleasure and pain when the detective inserts a knife into his wound. Woo remarks that their intimate eye contact is unconscious, a way of depicting their mutual admiration as though it were a “first date,” even though it is not conceived in sexual terms. 19

The sword represents the phallus, as Kwan points out. Hero shows the impotent phallus of Broken Sword, who aborted his mission, Nameless' lack of father and discovery of fraternity with a primordial father, and Qin as that father, the first emperor of China. Only Sky that seems to be a normal person, but he loses his phallus-spear to Nameless. Flying Snow shows her jealousy of the male phallus, her female jouissance. Qin, the primordial father, is the only potent person in the film in that he achieves his ultimate goal.

To achieve swordsmanship one must unite himself with one's sword. Broken Sword, Sky, and Nameless fail to unify with their swords or spears. Among these assassins, Broken Sword is the most outstanding swordsman. His calligraphy shares the same principles with swordsmanship, but he cannot keep his “broken phallus.” Nameless, too, lacks a phallus. Together, they agree that “the swordsman is at peace with the rest of the world [when] he vows not to kill and to bring peace to mankind.” 20 Since calligraphy and swordsmanship share the same essence, Nameless asks Broken Sword to find the twentieth way to write the word “sword” in order to evaluate his skill as a swordsman. From the Zhao perspective, this is art and creativity, but for Qin it is too diversified. He claims that once he has unified China, he will “eradicate this problem” by consolidating calligraphic writing. 21

The relationship between the swordsman and his sword is intimate. Qin, talking about Broken Sword, remarks on the martial art principle that “once the unity between swordsman and his sword is attained, even a blade of grass can be a weapon.” 22 This is because “the sword exists in one’s heart.”23 The ultimate achievement is actually the absence of a sword because it means the swordsman and his sword are united. The hesitation and abandoning of their mission is really their inability to possess their swords. They become impotent assassins in front of Qin, the primordial father.

I would like to point out that Hero uses homoeroticism to create a sense of non- hierarchical relations among men, including even between Qin and Nameless. Their relationship has no power dimension. It seems that they are independent from each other, they each have free will to make decisions, to kill or not to kill, sacrifice or not sacrifice, take action or remain passive, be dead or alive. It is Qin’s wit that allows Nameless to hesitate. Male bonding is a strategy for dealing with assassination. His statecraft leads him to hand Nameless his sword, since Qin believes that Nameless will never kill him.

The homoeroticism in Hero depoliticizes heterosexual relationships. Broken Sword and Flying Snow are lovers, but their love is trivial compared to the love shared among the male heroes, Nameless, Broken Snow, Sky, and Qin. These male warriors do not ask for understanding from their friends because they already understand each other. Flying Snow, by contrast, fails to understand why Broken Snow aborted his mission even at her last moment of life. If she had understood, she might not have been willing to die. Flying Snow is the female stain who disrupts the flow of homoeroticism and, at the same time, allows men to practice their love. 24

The words of Broken Sword, “All under Heaven,” do not immediately encourage Nameless to abort his plan to assassinate Qin. Nameless later changes his mind because he is hungry for “the greater good for all,” which he comes to understand means peace under Qin’s rule. He believes that one person’s suffering is nothing compared with the suffering of many. The conflict between Qin and Zhao is trivial compared to the greater cause. 25 In Hero, friendship is intrinsic to philosophical thought. 26 Friendship shapes the cinematic narrative of Qin’s supremacy.

V. Who is the Real Hero/Heroine?
There is only one dead body seen in Hero, that of Flying Snow, the female protagonist. Death in Hero seems unreal in that Sky, Flying Snow, and Broken Sword do did not die fighting Nameless, as portrayed in his narratives. They are surrender to death. Only Nameless’ funeral is celebrated as a heroic funeral, but we do not see his dead body. The death of Flying Snow is left ambiguous in that females do not really fit into the swordplay film genre, yet her death is presented as more real than that of the men in the film.

But who is the real hero/heroine? The macropolitics of the film shows that the one who can manipulate the relations among male bonds or homoeroticism is the real hero. Qin is the real hero in that he is even impressed by his enemies and he installs his regime within a national narrative and imagination. As the primordial father, Qin achieves his goal: Qin as the supreme mono-emperor.

According to Michael Shapiro, cinematic nationhood is the process through which film articulates nation-building and sustains the projects of states.27 Albeit Hero was labeled an “unashamed compromise,” 28 it is an exemplar of how cinematic narrative works on the project of cinematic nationhood. Hero provides a set of ideas: peace under one ruler; unification prior to peace; peace and unification worth any sacrifice. This set of ideas forms the narrative of a national imaginary, constructed within the cinematic narrative of Hero.

Notes

1. Hero, pro. and dir. Zhang Yimou, Zhang Yimou Studio Production et.al., 2002, VCD format.

2. William E. Connolly, “Film Technique and Micropolitics,” Theory and Event 6, no. 1. See also Lars Tonder, “Between Lack and Abundance: Introducing the Zizek/Connolly Exchange on Film and Politics,” Theory and Event 6, no.1. I admit that using Connolly and Zizek in this paper presents some conflict in my analysis. However, since I found that both theorists contributed to my understanding of the film Hero, I decided to keep this conflicted approach.

3. Connolly, “Film Technique and Micro Politics.”

4. Tonder, “Between Lack and Abundance.”

5. Slavoj Zizek, “The Thing from Inner Space,” Sexuation. Ed. Renata Salecl. (Durham and London: Duke University Press), 2000, pp. 216-259.

6. Ibid., pp. 217-8.

7. Ibid., pp. 222-4.

8. Ibid., p. 246.

9. The notion of “stain” is the idea that an object that goes against nature has to be removed from the picture or natural landscape. In this case, Flying Snow disrupts the flows of homoeroticism. Bonitzer explains how stain makes film works because it induces the gaze. See Pascal Bonitzer, “Hitchcockian Suspense,” Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Lacan (But Were Afraid to Ask Hitchcock) (London: Verso), 1992, p. 21.

10. Ibid., pp. 228-9.

11. Many film directors produced the mythic stories of the many assassination attempt on Qin's life. For example, Chen Kaige produced two films on Qin: The Emperor’s Shadow and The Emperor’s Assassin.

12. Plato, The Symposium (New York: Penguin Books), 1999, pp. xiii-xv

13. Stanley Kwan (Director), Yang and Yin: Gender in Chinese Cinema. London: Connoisseur Video, 1996. Videocassette.

14. John Woo was an assistant director to Chang Cheh.

15. Kwan, Yang and Yin.

16. Ibid.

17.Ibid.

18. Ibid. See also John Woo (Director), The Killer. Hong Kong: Fox Lober Home Video, 1994. videocassette.

19. Kwan, Yang and Yin.

20. Yimou, Hero.

21. Ibid.

22. Ibid.

23. Ibid.

24. See Pascal Bonitzer, “Hitchcockian Suspense.”

25. Zhang Yimou, Hero.

26. Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari, What is Philosophy? (New York: Columbia University Press), 1994, pp. 2-3.

27. Michael Shapiro, Method and nations: Cultural Governance and the Indigenous Subject (Unpublished manuscript, 2002), 207.

28. Susan Jakes, “Play Safe,” Time Asia 160, no. 24, 23 December 2002, (5 May 2003).



Glossary of Film and Electronic Media Terms by cyber internet campus http://www.internetcampus.com/gloss/gloss_c.htm (24 November 2003)

from สยามเวนา

The Last Samurai: Diversity issues through a Buddhist lens



by
Snea Thinsan

Diversity necessarily implies that there are differences among human beings. Cultural, ethnic, and gender diversity is the issue of interest when we refer to diversity, but the scope can go much more beyond that. The diversity program at the School of Education, Indiana University confirms such a broad scope:

We recognize that diversity embraces a broad range of differences, including gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, social class, abilities, religion, and national origin. One of the important goals of achieving diversity at our institution and in our society is to include those groups that have historically been discriminated against, excluded or marginalized in school and society.
http://www.indiana.edu/~ediverse/mission.html

Strictly in the academia, diversity fits the best under the umbrella of multicultural education, which is very well defined by Sonia Nieto (2002) as follows:

Multicultural education is a process of comprehensive school reform and basic education for all students. It challenges and rejects racism and other forms of discrimination in schools and society and accepts and affirms the pluralism (ethnic, racial, linguistic, religious, economic, and gender, among others) that students, their communities, and teachers represent. Multicultural education permeates the curriculum and instructional strategies used in schools, as well as the interactions among teachers, students and parents, and the very way that schools conceptualize the nature of teaching and learning. Because it uses critical pedagogy as its underlying philosophy and focuses on knowledge, reflection, and action (praxis) as the basis for social change, multicultural education furthers the democratic principles of social justice. (Nieto, p. 208)



What does diversity mean to me? This question moves me deeper into the soul of the term through my personal world views philosophically influenced by Buddhism. The Buddha recognized differences that inevitably exist among human beings based on their past and present deeds, or according the karma law. Instead of emphasizing the differences, Buddha, however, saw all human beings, as well as all creatures, as equal or the same in that they all have certain destiny in common: they are to be born, aged, sick, and deceased, all alike as long as they have not reached nirvana. Differences in Buddhist view, therefore, should not create tensions or conflicts because, as friends of the same fate, people are taught to coexist to give and take in harmony. Hence, differences among human beings are, to me, the existing reality that we cannot avoid. In other words, we can say that diversity exists naturally and human beings have been living in diversity. However, issues surrounding how tensions, or conflicts caused by differences among people in given societies are created, viewed, and treated are not to be taken for granted. Given the rapidly changing world, in which differences lead to or are intertwined with discrimination and oppression, diversity issues must be examined seriously. Having watched the Last Samurai, I was led to see the following issues.



Diversity issues in The Last Samurai



A few most interesting themes that emerged in the Last Samurai deserve our attention.



How differences become conflicts



Differences are inevitable, but do not necessarily need to lead to conflicts or tensions, as I stated above. My personal analysis of the stories of the Last Samurai has led me to see a bigger picture of factors that turn differences into destructive confrontation.



Modernism, or capitalism to be precise, was responsible for the conflicts in Japan in the 19th century. In this film, the Samurai had worked faithfully to protect the Japanese Emperors for so long before the Emperor, under the influence of Omura and his business associates who dominated the congress, decided to modernize the country. Foreign experts and resources were brought in to Japan: lawyers from France, engineers from Germany, architects from Holland, and weapons from the U.S. The Samurai, led by Katsumoto--a main character, thought the changes were too fast and saw foreign forces as potentially harmful to Japan; thus, he led other Samurais to disrupt the process. Their actions were considered rebellious by Omura, who can be regarded as a representative of the capitalists in the modern world and who wished to gain wealth from trading exchanges with the U.S. and other foreign businesspersons.



Capitalism created consumption craze and more chaotic society, to the benefit of the more powerful elites, entrepreneurs and foreigners, who were considered the sources of knowledge, wealth, threatening external forces, and owners of superior cultures. Japan, after having closed itself to the world for over a century, found itself behind western countries and felt the threat brought around by the western countries seeking colonials and economic victims enslaved by unfair, if not unwanted, trade agreements. Modernizing the country seemed to be the only way out. Colonialism indeed began to disguise itself with capitalism as a tool then. Consumption of foreign goods and knowledge was evident in Japan during which era. Western clothes, watches, food, and even guns were not just normal commodities, but also symbolic representations of desired power and prosperity that the Japanese wished they had had then. Consumerism imposed by the influx of Western cultures can be negated. The harm that consumerism brings about cannot be overlooked because consumerism are at the roots of problems in our present world, not merely in Japan in the 19th centery. Sivaraksa (1999), a Noble Prize nominee from Thailand defines and negates 'consumerism' as follows:



Consumerism is the personification of greed and people don't realise that one can die for greed just as one can die for nationalism. It drives a person to work too hard, to desire money and to consume. One is conditioned to think that without consumer goods one is nobody. 'I buy therefore I am' is the slogan of the modern age. We must understand consumerism as a new demonic religion and find a spiritual alternative. (p. 13)



Capitalism, the twin of consumerism, on the surface promises wealth, comfort, convenience, physical satisfaction, and yet, at the roots, greed. Greedy tradesmen would do anything to get what they want, and Omura was a great example. In order for capitalism to prosper and yield him profits, he regarded the Samurai "terrorists" that needed to be eradicated. Little did he know that getting rid of that small group of people also meant dumping the Japanese's old virtues and ways of life. In all, we can see that greed that is usually provoked by capitalism and consumerism turn differences into conflicts and lead to destruction of the weaker force or culture.



Familiar consequences



When diversity becomes conflicting differences, the following scenarios are common.



Inferiority


Once "modernized", members of the local communities usually regard their old ways of life inferior to the new ways. Indeed, the word "modernize" indicates clearly that the old ways must be either ignored, abandoned or replaced, or even eradicated. The samurai suffered the same phenomenon, in which the ways they dressed, carried two swords, and lived their lives were insulted by modernized Japanese on the street. This is when diversity education counts. By promoting acceptance of differences without being judgmental of the different ways of life in light of the changing world, diversity education promises a more harmonious society. Whether and how well education can function in light of the fierce power of capitalism remains educators' duties and perhaps top priority.



Marginalization/ Otherness



When conflicts of interest occur, the weaker or smaller groups are generally marginalized in the capitalistic world. The samurai's interest of protecting Japan from foreign influences inevitably clashed with that of modernized, capitalistic Japanese and of the foreigners who had entered Japan looking for sources of profits and wealth: whale oil, new market, etc. In fact, the history of the samurai had been rough already before this era. Being elites, they had not been able to fit properly in the later Japanese society, where there were not wars in which to fight. They then already were the minority of the society, who could not do any work considered lower than their social ranks. Once Japan was lured into the capitalistic dreams under the modernization scheme, the samurai became the unwanted group of people. They were labeled rebels, barbarians, uncivilized group, and old-fashioned, unwanted minority.



Domination



Power relations among the Japanese and between them and foreigners were also very interesting as reflected in the film. Among the Japanese themselves, we could see that the ruling class changed from the Shogun and the samurai to be business-oriented groups. These business-oriented people under the umbrella of "modernization" imposed, with or without awareness, new ways of living and thinking. Their voices became louder than any other voice. People were told that Japan was modernizing itself and its promising future lied on the acceptance of foreign assistance. What they probably did not realize was that they were imposing on the Japanese the foreign culture and capitalism, that could potentially harm Japan at least because most of the actions would benefit only Omura and his colleagues and of course foreign firms/governments. Imposition is a one-way, top-down approach; thus, we can say that what happened in The Last Samurai was in line with Freire's notion of "cultural domination" (Freire, 2002). Foreign cultures became prominent in the Japanese society as a result. Cultural domination, according to Freire, occurs when the superior group as outsiders impose their way of thinking and conducting on the weaker, local groups. Domination can also come in the subtle form of cultural consumption under capitalism. I this case, the outsiders do not need to do much in order for their cultures to dominate the local one, because once the common goods and ways of operating things (i.e. uniform, weapons, experts, etc.) are accepted by the local as better and so are the culture embedded within them. Ironically, the film about the Japanese's strong virtues of keeping honor, discipline, and dignity was created by the U.S.-based producers!



Death of indigenous cultures & identity loss



The above scenarios can lead to the most threatening effect on the local cultures; the death of indigenous cultures. Cultural diversity that many try to promote practically is at stake if we look at how capitalism, which carries the power of the stronger groups of people and more powerful cultures, can intimidate, marginalize, dominate, and even destroy the local cultures. New, usually foreign, cultures under capitalism always flourish on the expense of the local ones. The death of the samurai perhaps marked the beginning of the loss of, or changes in, identity among the Japanese. Experts typically are made from foreign education and are more likely to adopt the foreign ways of thinking, expressing, and operating. Increasingly, the medium of communication in local, regional, and global levels necessarily becomes the language from the dominant culture. Now, as a result, intellectuality and aptitude of non-English speakers are tested in such the dominant language of the world, GRE, GMAT, TOEFL, to name a few. How adoption of equipment, approaches, thinking, generally foreign cultures to replace the indigenous ones can affect members of the indigenous cultures has not been studied adequately. However, it is said enough in the literature of multicultural education that language policies and learning cultures that ignore the backgrounds of the students can put the students from the marginalized cultures at a disadvantage (See for instance, Walsh, 1996; Heath, 1999; Delpit, 2002).

Lessons

The Last Samurai does not only provide the typical reflections of how the world works, it also informs us of whatit takes to promote diversity in light of extreme tensions.

For people from two cultures to understand each other, it is necessary that both sides are willing to "have a good conversation." Perhaps, Freire's dialogic approach to co-learning when outsiders are trying to make sense of a new culture applies here. Mutual respect is also the tool that two peoples need in learning about each other.

Keen interest in each other's culture is also very important. Algren and Kutsumoto both show interest in each other. While Kutsumoto took Algren to his village, observed his movements, and read his confiscated diary to study about his new enemy, Algren had read translated books about the Samurai and later at the village always kept his eyes, ears, and mind open.

Cultural sensitivity is perhaps another quality required for living in diversity. Observing eyes, keen ears, and open minds, therefore, are very important. Algren often showed us such a quality. He, for example, took off his shoes entering the house after he had learned that Taka, the host, had to clean the floor messed with the dirt from his shoes.

Non-judgmental attitude appears to be important, too. The movie often presents us with the lines that reflect the characters' biases, stereotypes, and quick judgments. We can always find something to say about strangers, but time often reveals to us that we can be wrong.

A most important lesson we can learn from the movie is that, in spite of many differences, we human beings are similar in many ways. Algren and Kutsumoto came to understand each other so profoundly because they realized that they were both 'the students of wars". Perhaps, instead of focusing on differences alone, we should try to emphasize similarities in diversity promotion, too. In the Buddha's eyes, we are all friends of the same fate within the same circle.

To understand a new culture enough to appreciate its glory, Freire's praxis, which requires both critical reflections and actions, seems to fit well. It took Algren more than just reading books to appreciate the Samurai ways. Algren merged himself in the Samurai ways of life by living with a family and doing what the Samurai did. Perhaps, this can encourage us, educators, to be more ambitious; that is, we should do more than just having cultural fairs or talent shows.

The other obvious lesson is the notion of language as an important tool for cultural understanding. Not only can learning a new language be a way to get closer to the people in the new culture, it is also a tool to help facilitate understanding at a deeper level. The fact that Kutsumoto could speak English and that Algren learned to speak Japanese reflect the importance of learning the target culture's language.

References



Delpit, L. & Dowdy, J. K. (2002). The Skin That We Speak. New York: The New Press.



Heath, S. B. (1999). Ways with Words. New York: CUP.



Nieto, S.(2002). Affirming Diversity: The Sociopolitical Context of Multicultural Education, New York: Longman Publishers, 3 rd. ed., 2000 (first ed., 1992; second ed., 1996).



Sivaraksa, S. (1999). Global HealingWalsh, C. E. (Ed.) (1999). Education Reform and Social Change. Bangkok: Ruankaew Printing House.

Walsh, C. E. (Ed.) (1999). Education Reform and Social Change. New Jersey: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc.

from สยามเสวนา

Thailand-Cambodia :A Love-Hate Relationship





Charnvit Kasetsiri
ตีพิมพ์ ๒๕ กรกฎาคม ๒๕๔๗


The violence which culminated in the burning of the Royal Thai Embassy in Phnom Penh on January 29, 2003, was both shocking and unexpected. The rioting not only inflicted extensive damage to Thai-owned property (fortunately, no one was killed) but severely strained Thai-Cambodian relations. It also warrants study of the history of Thai-Cambodian relations to understand the deep-seated causes of what took place so that similar incidents can be avoided in the future.




Among the neighboring countries of Southeast Asia, none seems more similar to Thailand than Cambodia (perhaps not even excluding Laos and the “Tai” people scattered throughout such countries as Burma, Vietnam, and southern China). Both nations share similar customs, traditions, beliefs, and ways of life. This is especially true of royal customs, language, writing systems, vocabulary, literature, and the dramatic arts.




In light of these similarities, it seems surprising, therefore, that relations between Thailand and Cambodia should be characterized by deep-seated “ignorance, misunderstanding, and prejudice.” Indeed, the two countries have what can be termed “a love-hate relationship.”




This lack of understanding is reflected in the thinking of a considerable number of educated Thais and members of the ruling class, who distinguish between the Khom and the Khmer, considering them to be two separate ethnic groups. They assert that it was the Khom, not the Khmer, who built the majestic temple complexes at Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom and who founded one of the world’s truly magnificent ancient empires. They further claim that Khmer culture, for instance its various forms of masked dance drama, is merely a “derivative” of Thai culture. (This is despite the fact that the word “Khom” is derived from the old Thai “Khmer krom,” meaning “lowland Khmer.” In spoken Thai, “Khmer” was gradually dropped, leaving only “krom,” which over time became, first, “klom” or “kalom,” and then eventually “Khom.”)




The border between Thailand and Cambodia is approximately 800 kilometers long, stretching along the provinces of the lower Northeast from a point known as “Chong Bok” in Ubon Ratchathani (where the Thai, Laotian, and Cambodian borders meet and which some refer to as the “Emerald Triangle”) and ending in Had Lek sub-district of Klong Yai district, in Trat province.




This long border is symbolic of the long history of relations between the Thais and the Khom-Khmer, which date from before the founding of the Sukhothai kingdom in the thirteenth century, thus starting the “love-hate relationship.” A similar relationship exists between the Japanese and the Koreans. Much of what defines Japanese culture today has been influenced by and is part of the cultural heritage of Korea. Buddhism, silkmaking, lacquerware, architecture, and sculpture – the most refined aspects of culture which the Japanese identify with China – passed to them first through Korea. But because of Japan’s successful transformation into an industrial powerhouse, that country has overlooked its debt to Korea and, in fact, treats Korea as an inferior.




Those elements of Thai culture which are generally considered to have originated in India, such as Buddhism, architecture, artistic designs, and even a significant portion of the Thai lexicon, did not enter Thailand directly from India. Rather, they were all second-hand transmissions, so to speak, having first passed through the Sri Lankans (including the Tamil), the Mon, or the Khmer. Even the concept of divine kingship (devaraja) and much of the special vocabulary associated with the royal court were, as M.R. Kukrit Pramoj, a noted intellectual and former Thai prime minister, said, “derived from Cambodia.”




Thai leaders in the past were filled with tremendous admiration for anything Khom-Khmer. Khun Pha Muang, who ruled the city of Muang Rad, somewhere in present-day northern Thailand, and was instrumental in the founding of the Sukhothai kingdom, was given the title “Sri Intrabodintrathit” (before it was changed to “Sri Intrathit”). This is a name taken from the lord or phee fah of the city of “muang Sri Sothonpura.” Pha Muang’s royal regalia, known as “Pra Khan Jayasri,” the Jayasri sword, and his royal consort named “Sikara Maha Devi,” were all bestowed by the King of Angkor.




This is the message conveyed to us by a fourteenth-century stone inscription of Wat Srichum at Sukhothai (the authenticity of which has never been questioned, unlike that of the Ram Khamhaeng Inscription). The Thai term “phee fah” (referring to a king) and the term “Sri Sothonpura” are direct references to a Khom-Khmer king and his royal capital. The king in question was probably King Jayavarman VIII (1243-1295) and the royal capital of Sri Sothonpura is certainly Angkor Thom.





In other words, the earliest royal Thai titles – King Sri Intrabodintrathit, the Pra Khan Jayasri sword, and the consort Sikara Maha Devi – were derived from the Khmer, one of the most highly advanced civilizations in Southeast Asia at the time and a source of knowledge and inspiration to the Thai people. It is possible that Sikara Maha Devi was a daughter of King Jayavarman VIII and thus the Thai leader Khun Pha Muang, one of the founders of Sukhothai, was a son-in-law of the Khmer King.




The early history of the Lao Lan Xang kingdom in Luang Prabang shares distinct similarities. Fah Ngum, the founder of the kingdom, had sought refuge at Angkor, where he was given a sacred Buddha image (Phra Bang) and where he took a Khmer consort (Mahesi) before establishing his supremacy over all the Lao people (A.D. 1353).




This respect and admiration for anything Khmer also characterized the Ayutthaya period from the mid-fourteenth century onward. Interestingly, the flourishing of Khmer art and culture at the Thai court was the result of war, a war in which the victors adopted elements of the superior civilization of the losing side.




The glorious Khom-Khmer civilization ultimately sank into decline, as Sri Sothonpura (Angkor Thom or Sri Yasodharapura), seat of the kingdom, fell three times to invading armies – first to King U-Thong in 1369, second to King Ramesuan in 1388/9, and finally in 1431 to King Sam Phraya. The sacking of Sri Sothonpura can be compared to the fall of Ayutthaya in 1767, but Thai historians are reluctant to make this analogy as it casts Thais in the role of “villains,” a role more comfortably attributed to the Burmese.




However, the Thai conquest of Sri Sothonpura led to a burgeoning of Khmer art and culture in Ayutthaya, just as the Mongol conquest of China led to the Mongol adoption of Chinese customs and culture (the founding of the Yuan dynasty at Peking). As Professor David Wyatt of Cornell University once noted, in fact, “Ayutthaya is the successor of Angkor.”




Another example from the Ayutthaya period is the decision by King Prasat Thong (1630-1656) to build the principal prang at Wat Chaiyawatanaram in the Khmer style and to bestow on the Khmer-style palace he constructed on the banks of the Pasak River (located today in Nakhon Luang district of Ayutthaya province) the name “Nakhon Luang.” This is a name taken directly from Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, as Thais at the time referred to the Khmer capital as (Phra) “Nakhon Luang” or in Pali-Sanskrit, Nagara, the City.




The admiration of the Thai ruling classes for things Khmer-Khom remained in evidence even into the Ratanakosin (Bangkok) period. King Rama IV, or King Mongkut (r.1851-1868), for instance, ordered a Khmer stone temple disassembled and reconstructed on Thai soil, but “Phra Suphanphisan, after a trip to the ancient Khmer capital at Angkor, informed the King that all the stone temples were too enormous to be taken apart and transported to Siam. Hearing this, the King ordered that Prasat Ta Prohm, a relatively smaller temple, be relocated instead. Four groups of 500 men each were dispatched…to deconstruct the prasat on the ninth day of the sixth lunar month.”




The account of this event, which appears in “The Royal Chronicles of King Rama IV” by Chao Phraya Thipakorawong, occurred in 1860, before the Siamese ceded “sovereignty” over Cambodia to the French in 1867.





It is unclear to us precisely why King Mongkut wished to have an enormous Khmer temple reconstructed in Siam at a time when the French were gradually extending their control over much of Indochina. What is interesting, however, is that the attempt to move the temple structure failed when “some 300 Khmers came out of the forest and attacked the men who had come to disassemble the temple, killing Phra Suphanphisan, Phra Wang and one of Phra Suphanphisan’s sons. Phra Mahatthai was stabbed, and Phra Yokkrabat was injured. The phrai commoners, however, escaped injury by fleeing into the forest.”

It was obvious that the Khmer were angered by the theft of their property and responded violently. The incident convinced King Mongkut to abandon the plan to “disassemble” the prasat and instead to construct a small model of the Angkor Wat temple complex. “Craftsmen constructed a model of Angkor Wat and installed it at Wat Phra Sri Ratanasasadaram (the Temple of the Emerald Buddha), where it remains to this very day.” (Prime Minister Hun Sen visited the model at the Temple of the Emerald Buddha in early 1990s during an official visit to Thailand for discussions with then-Prime Minister Chatichai Choonhavan.)





Despite the Thai love and admiration for anything Khmer, the Thais have also felt considerable hatred for the Khmer, as evidenced by a ritual called the phithi pathomkam. While Ayutthaya was busy fending off Burmese incursions, the Khmer King Satha (Chetta I, r.1576-1596) took the opportunity to attack Ayutthaya from the east. In revenge, so the chronicles say, King Naresuan ordered the capture of Khmer ruler to be beheaded and washed his feet with the blood.




The phithi pathomkam ritual re-enacts this story of revenge. However, Professor Kajorn Sukhapanich, a noted Thai historian, did not believe that the ritual, as recorded in the royal chronicles, ever really occurred. He claimed that Khmer King Satha fled and took refuge in Laos.




In general, present-day Thai view Khmer leaders and kings as traitors and ingrates. This idea was probably started by King Vajiravudh, or Rama VI (r.1910-1925), in his official nationalism campaign. It was handed down and developed by Field Marshal Phinbun and Luang Wichit in the 1930s-1940s when Thailand, with Japanese help, seized Siemreap and Battambang from French Indochina. It was also heightened by the dictatorship of Field Marshal Sarit when the International Court of Justice ruled that the great temple of Phra Viharn on the border belonged to Cambodia. The pro-Americanism of Thailand and the neutrality of Sihanouk Cambodia during the Cold War further encouraged mutual dislike between the two countries and peoples.





Thais are not particularly fond of Norodom Sihanouk, for example. A Thai riddle asks, “What color (si) do Thai people hate?” The answer is neither red (si daeng) nor black (si dam), but “Si-hanouk.”




This, of course, is the Thai perspective, but how do the Khmer view their kings, such as Satha and Sihanouk? Certainly as national heroes and saviors, as men who fought to preserve their country’s independence in the face of Thai aggressors intent on seizing control of Cambodia. Much the same could be said about King Anu of Laos, r.1805-1828, considered by Lao historians as a national hero, whereas to the Thais, he was a “rebel” against the Bangkok monarch King Rama III (r.1824-1851).




The history of Thailand and its neighbors, especially Cambodia, Laos, and Burma, is one with both positive and negative elements. Some events have bred hatred, for instance of the Burmese by the Thais; others have generated contempt and feelings of superiority or inferiority, as in the case of Thailand’s relations with Cambodia and Laos. These feelings have led to significant misunderstandings.




Clearly, then, there is a need for an earnest and systematic study of the history of relations between these countries. This study deserves support from national and regional organizations such as ASEAN. Unfortunately, however, once the smoke clears from the Thai Embassy in Phnom Penh, all that is likely to matter is the extent of the financial damage and how and when compensation will be paid.




Or if any analysis of the incident does take place, it is likely to reach the facile conclusion that the Khmers are “the villains” – they burned down Thai Embassy, after all – and the Thais are “the good guys” – we did not burn the Cambodian Embassy. It is convenient for Thais to forget that Ayutthaya rulers sacked Angkor three times. It would be far preferable, however, to examine the violent events of January 29 in order to draw lessons for solving the problems that continue to affect the neighboring countries of the Southeast Asian region.




Select Bibliography

The following texts shed some light for a better understanding of our Southeast Asian neighbors, especially Cambodia, its history, and the question of the Khmer legacy.




Her Royal Highness Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn. เขมรสามยก (Khamen sam yok / Cambodia: Three Times). 1993. A travel account of three trips made in 1992 and 1993, this book provides a day-by-day account of the Princess’s experiences in Cambodia, intending to give an understanding of the country and its customs. Filled with general information, the book is easy and pleasurable reading, and, importantly, contains beautiful photographs which help clarify the descriptions of modern day Cambodia (to 1992), as well as the historical sites at Angkor. 309 pages. 500 baht.




George Coedes. Angkor: An Introduction (translated into Thai by Pranee Wongthes as เมืองพระนคร นครวัด นครธม ). 1986. A popular book, currently in its seventh printing, written by an eminent French scholar from the Ecole Française d’Extrème Orient. Coedes once worked in Thailand and was the first man to read the Ramkhamhaeng Inscription Stone in its entirety. This text is a “must read” for anyone wishing to gain an understanding of the history of the ancient Khmer and the concept of divine kingship which informed the building of the great prasart. The book traces the development of the magnificent Khmer civilization and its eventual collapse. A smooth translation of the original, easy to read. 228 pages. 195 baht.





David Chandler. A History of Cambodia (translated into Thai by Phanngam Ngaothamasarn, Sodsai Khantiworapong, and Wongduen Narasajja as ประวัติศาสตร์กัมพูชา / Prawatsat Kamphucha). 1997 (second printing, 2000). Chandler, an eminent American scholar, is a former professor at Monash University, Australia. The book recounts the history of Cambodia, beginning from ancient times (before and after Angkor) and continuing to the present day (before and after the Khmer Rouge). It provides the “best background” to Cambodian history currently available in Thai. The book received an award for best translation of a work of non-fiction in 1999. A valuable reference book, suitable for reports, articles and advanced study. 412 pages. 250 baht.




Nikhom Musikakhama. ประวัติศาสตร์โบราณคดี กัมพูชา (Archeological History of Cambodia). 1993. A text published by the Fine Arts Department to mark the official opening of the National Museum at Phimai by Her Royal Highness Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn in 1993. The book is an attempt by the government to illustrate that: “Just as the two banks of the Mekhong River have not been able to separate the Thais from their Lao brothers and sisters, the Dongrak Hills have failed to separate Thailand from Cambodia.” This is a dense and fairly serious work, tracing the history of the Khmer people from before the founding of Angkor to the fall of the empire at the hands of Vietnamese and Thai invaders. The book serves as an excellent guide for determining what is “reliable” and what is “unreliable” in the study of historical “records.” Special attention should be paid to Chapter 5. 430 pages.




Jit Phumisak. ตำนานแห่งนครวัด (Prawatsat Borankhadi Kamphucha / The Legend of Angkor Wat). 1982 (second printing, 2002). This book, by an important Thai thinker and writer, is in the style of a cultural travel guide. It is an attempt to clear up misunderstandings and “overcome Thai prejudice and contempt for the Khmer.” Although it is somewhat romanticized, the book is full of insightful conversations between young men and women who ask questions and look for answers to the mystery of the rise and fall of the Khmer empire. First printing B.E. 2525 (1982), second printing B.E. 2545 (2002). Beautiful illustrations. 196+ pages. 175 baht.




Bernard Groslier. นี่ เสียมกุก (Syam Kuk). (Translated into English by Benedict Anderson from the French “Les Syam Kuk des bas-reliefs d’Angkor Vat” in Orients pour George-Condominas, Sud-est Asie/Privat, Paris, 1981; Thai version edited by Charnvit Kasetsiri). 2002. The book presents the debate over the identity of the figures known as “Syam” carved into the stone prasat at Angkor. “Were they Thai? Where they Siamese? Were they mercenaries? Were they primitive babarians? Precisely who were they?” The book also discusses a new theory which posits that these figures were none other than the Kuay or Kui, one of the oldest indigenous peoples of Southeast Asia, who are somewhat disparagingly referred to as the “Suay” in Thai or the “Kha”in Lao. These people inhabited remote areas between the Khmer and the ancient Champa kingdoms. (M. Groslier was the French curator who remained at Angkor until the very last moment during the Khmer Rouge period. He believed that the flourishing of the ancient Khmer civilization was due to its ability to harness waterpower. To him the Angkorian Empire was a hydraulic society.) 165 baht.




Sujit Wongthes, editor. พระนเรศวรตีเมืองละแวก แต่ไม่ได้ “ฆ่า” พระยาละแวก Phra Naresuan ti muang Lawaek dai tae maikai kha Phraya Lawaek / King Naresuan Captured the City of Lovek, But Did Not “Kill” its King). A history text consisting of dense but readable academic articles by Janchai Phakatimkom, Boonteun Srivorapong, and Santi Pakdeekham, which present new information, new perspectives, and new theories which contrast with long-standing readings of “historical records.” According to these articles, King Naresuan, in 1593, did in fact attack Lovek, the capital of the Khmer empire after the fall of Angkor, but he did not kill the Cambodian monarch, and the Pathomkam ritual, in which the blood of the Khmer king was used to wash King Naresuan’s feet, did not occur. These writers contend that the Khmer King of Lovek fled to Laos where he lived out the rest of his days. This book is recommended for the way in which it opens up new perspectives on the past and for its rejection of old-fashioned “fanatical nationalism.” (The editor is a national artist and cultural treasure; Janchai is a history professor at Ramkhamhaeng University, and Santi is an instructor at Srinakarintrawirot University – see his translation of the text on differences between Thai and Cambodian perspectives.) 184 pages. 155 baht.




Charnvit Kasetsiri. วิถีไทย (Withi Thai / The Thai Way). 1997. This is an historical and cultural guidebook intended to give Thai readers an understanding of and respect for their Southeast Asian neighbors. It takes the approach that by understanding “them,” we can better understand “ourselves.” The book attempts to break down the barriers imposed by borders, prejudice, and outdated nationalistic attitudes. For information on Cambodia, readers are directed to the chapters entitled “Across Cambodia from Atop Phra Viharn” and “Angkor Wat: Record of a Journey to the Celestial Palace of the Khom.” 321 pages. 230 baht.




Theeraphap Lohitakul. รัก ชื่น ขื่น ชัง อุษาคเนย์ (Rak, chun, khun, chang Usakhane / Love, Admiration, Resentment and Hatred in Southeast Asia). 2002. Written in a romantic style by one of the country’s most highly regarded travel writers, this book is a cultural guide to Southeast Asia with interesting historical asides. What is most noteworthy is the writer’s obvious respect and admiration for cultures and peoples different from the Thais. At the same time, however, the book’s title and chapter headings such as “Reassessing the Past: From Bang Rachan to Suranaree” and “To Whom Does Phra Viharn Belong? A Question We Should Perhaps Stop Asking” point to elements of love and hate in relations between neighboring countries in the region. Very easy to read, with beautiful illustrations, the book is an attack on ethnocentrism. 304 pages. 200 baht.




Apichart Kaweephokha. ปราสาทสด๊กก๊อกธม ประวัติศาสตร์และอารยธรรมขอม สระแก้ว บันเตีย เมียนจาย (Prasat Sdok Kok Thom prawatsat lae arayatham khom sra keo bantai mainchai / Prasat Sadok Kok Thom: Khom History and Civilization in Sra Kaew and Bantay Mian Jai). An admirable attempt to promote cross-cultural understanding at the local level. The book makes use of historical information, stone inscriptions, cultural travels, religious rituals, and other local activities to break down national barriers and promote cooperation between Sra Kaew province in Thailand (the location of the Prasat Sadok Kok Thom) and Bantia Mian Jai province in Cambodia (site of Prasat Bantay Chamar). The writer is the chief district officer in Khok Sung district, Sra Kaew. 190 pages. 100 baht.

From สยามเสวนา

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Understanding the Situation in the South as a “Millenarian Revolt”

Understanding the Situation in the South as a “Millenarian Revolt”
Nidhi Aeusrivongse


Editor’s Note: Nidhi Aeusrivongse has been the dominant figure in Thai historical scholarship for the past two decades. Long on the faculty of Chiang Mai University, he earned a doctorate in history at the University of Michigan in 1976 with a disseration on literature and nationalism in Indonesia. He subsequently published a series of books that revolutionized Thai social, cultural, and literary history. Among the most notable are Pak kai lae bai rua: wa duai kan suksa prawatisat – wannakam ratanakosin [Quill and sail: On the study of history and literature in the early Bangkok era] (1984); Kanmueang Thai Samai Phra Narai [Thai politics in the reign of King Narai] (1984); Kanmueang Thai Samai Phrachao Krung Thonburi [Thai politics in the reign of King Taksin] (1993); and, most recently, Krung Taek, Phra Chao Tak lae Prawatisat Thai: Wa Duai Prawatisat lae Prawatisatniphon [The fall of the capital, King Taksin, and Thai history: On history and historiography] (2002). During the boom years of the late 1980s and 1990s, Nidhi’s ideas reached a broader public through his regular columns in the Thai press, and he emerged as one of Thailand’s leading public intellectuals.

This essay was translated by the Regional Studies Program, Walailak University, from “Morng sathannakarn phaktai phan wæn ‘kabot chaona’,” Sinlapa Watthanatham 25, no.8 (June 2004): 110-124.



The Protagonists are the “Small People”


It is difficult to deny that the situation in southern Thailand this year [Ed: 2004] is a social movement numbering hundreds of people.[1] If we include those people who have lent their support to the operations, that number might reach a thousand or more.


I am not interested in who led such a large-scale social movement, who the mastermind was, or from where the movement has gained support. Searching for the ringleader does not help us to understand anything. The raid on the arms depot [on 4 January 2004], the assassination of government officials, school burnings, or attacks on police units by militant forces, etc., are not isolated incidents but a movement that involves a large number of people. No one person can lead or attract such a huge number of people to carry out such violent operations (even through the use of drugs – this is a reference to comments made by the Prime Minister and circulated in the media that the militants were drug addicts. ed). There must be certain factors that have led these small people to mobilize themselves out of a common interest. In order to understand the situation in the South, therefore, one must understand the surrounding conditions and factors that are affecting the lives of these small people.


An authoritarian state does not often pay much attention to the small people who participate in social movements. It never conceives that the common people could mobilize a political or social movement by themselves. It always assumes that they must have been incited by someone else to take part, or else have been lured into it through bribery or deception.


Although such incitement, bribery, or deception may indeed exist, none of these things can explain the actions of the small people who actually joined the movement. Since a large number of these small people chose not to participate in the movement, apart from the large number who did, the question is, why did one group join the movement while the other group did not?


Who are the Protagonists?


By chance, the 28 April [2004] incident that led to the deaths of so many people has enabled us to learn who these small people actually are [The “incident” refers to coordinated attacks by militants on a number of police posts in the provinces of Pattani, Yala, and Narathiwat, and a stand-off with security forces at Kruese mosque in Pattani province. The attacks were suppressed leaving 107 of the militants dead, includnig 32 at the Kruese mosque seige. ed.]


If we look at the forces that took part in the incident of 28 April, the majority of them, as has been reported by the media, were rural people. This is consistent with an interview with the 4th Army Commander who stated that these people received military training in certain areas of Amphoe [district] Sabayoi, in Songkhla province, or Amphoe Kabang, Amphoe Yaha, Amphoe Thanto, Amphoe Aiyaweng, and Amphoe Betong in Yala province. He pointed out that these are jungle-covered, mountainous areas where security officials had not been able to inspect (Matichon, 3 May 2004).


This interview with the 4th Army Commander is in accordance with information provided by military intelligence sources that the youth had received secret military training (I am not sure what “youth” means here, because a press release following the incident stated that most of the dead were around 25 to 30 years of age, which means they are too old to be referred to as “youth”). This military training took place in mountainous, jungle areas, or close to remote villages. Those who underwent the training course were able to advance to the high-ranking groups that carry out hit-and-run attacks on police targets (Perspective Section, Bangkok Post, 2 May 2004).


When the author attempted to find out about the backgrounds of those killed it appears that this subject has received hardly any interest from the media. Therefore, we barely know about these people.


Among the injured was Mr. Abdulroning Cheloh, a villager from Amphoe Khokpho, Pattani province. His wife stated that he worked as a laborer tapping rubber (Matichon, 2 May 2004). This suggests that his family is quite poor since he works as hired laborer in a rural village without his own working capital.


The kamnan (head) of Thankhiri sub-district, the administrative area that includes Susoh village, where nineteen of the dead militants who attacked Amphoe Sabayoi police station came from, stated that “the most serious problem is education, because most of the kids here are unemployed. They can’t find work because they don’t have any knowledge. Most of them finish their education at the compulsory level of grade six, or at most junior secondary school. Then they have to help their parents in rubber-tapping. Apart from this they don’t have anything to do” (Matichon, 2 May 2004). Their level of education and the nature of the work they did suggest, therefore, that they were victims of the disintegration of rural society.


There were, however, some different cases, such as those of Mr. Sanphu and Mr. Maroning Yogmakeh, both of whom were shot dead. Their father expressed his sorrow, especially for the loss of his elder son (it is not known which one) who had just finished high school at Islam Witthaya school and had just applied to enter the police training college. But besides this, the evidence suggests that the militants who carried out the operation, and perhaps even the whole movement itself are not be linked to the traditional elite. For example, the Bangkok Post of 27 April reported that it had discovered a leaflet distributed in three provinces, i.e. at Dalohala-Raman Road, in Amphoe Raman, Yala province, in Amphoe Khokpho, Pattani province, and in Amphoe Roesoh, Narathiwat province, which features a picture of a religious leader handing something to a uniformed police officer. The leaflet, written in the Thai language, demands that Islamic religious leaders cease their cooperation with the police in providing intelligence about the unrest in the South.


This demand would appear to suggest that most religious leaders are not involved with the movement. They have no real links with the militants or the movement. The author suspects that neither the militants themselves nor the movement they lead have any real connection to the traditional elite. In fact, following the government’s arrests and the charges laid against the “ringleaders,” up until now there has been no clear evidence to prove the charges. I have had the opportunity of reading two case studies contained in the “Case Study Report into…” prepared by the Military Intelligence Agency of the Internal Security Directorate for the 4th Army Region, 2nd Division, that attempts to link the whole movement with the traditional elite, both at the local and the national levels. But all of the report’s conclusions are groundless suppositions based on conjecture and suspicion with no factual basis. The report may even have been deliberately intended to misrepresent the facts in order to fit the story it had concocted (even though it was credible enough to convince a number of government leaders). The author still believes, therefore, that this is a movement of the small people, and that those who carried out this operation had no links to the local traditional elite.


The author is also skeptical as to whether even those well-known anti-Thai government organizations such as PULO, BRN, Bersatu, etc.[2] are as linked to this movement as they wish to claim.[3] Of course, they will give their support and praise the actions of these small people, even though they are not the main force directly behind the movement, since it obviously fits in with their political objectives. In actual fact, however, movements such as PULO, BRN, etc. appear to lack the necessary organizational strength for such actions. They have never been able to carry out operations on such a large scale and of such an on-going nature as this.


It is noteworthy that the communiqué released by PULO following the incident on 28 April still does not claim responsibility, which suggests that PULO itself may not know a great deal about the “heroes” it has praised for their sacrifice and bravery. The PULO communiqué prefers to keep these “heroes” anonymous, even though they ought to know very well that it is not difficult for the Thai government to trace the names and families of the dead militants.


The Ideology of the Protagonists


The mass media, which has obediently accepted the information provided to it by the government or high ranking state officials, depicts the militants as a separatist group whose aim is to establish an independent state of Pattani free of Thai political control, while at the same time receiving inspiration from an extremist strand of Islamic teaching.


It is true that certain evidence found on the dead militants or gained from the interrogation of those militants who have been apprehended may indeed support such an interpretation. But let us look at the details of this ideology as claimed above.


Even if the militants and their movement (including organizations that supported them, such as PULO) may have wanted to establish an independent Pattani state, up until 28 April these organizations had done nothing to make such a political separation practically viable under the prevailing conditions in the world today. There has been no serious attempt to gain the recognition, understanding, and sympathy of the world’s superpowers for a new, would-be political entity. There has not even been any dissemination to the outside world of the sufferings of the Melayu Muslim people under the rule of the Thai Buddhist state.


In today’s world, political separation from a state that has the economic and political importance of Thailand cannot be achieved without the recognition, at least implicitly, of the superpowers. In this respect, the United States, China, the European Union, Japan, or even ASEAN countries, stand to benefit more from Thailand’s stability, national integrity, and tranquility than from its disintegration and the resulting chaos.


The on-going activities of the militants, such as the assassination of state officials, the attacks carried out on small government security forces, and the burnings of schools and government offices, are certainly not a viable means of establishing an independent state. It is impossible for the militants to defeat the Thai armed forces. Moreover, the more they carry out these types of operations, the more they stand to lose in terms of their own manpower. And careless operations that result in the loss of mass support, such as school burnings, make it even less likely that they will be able to defeat the Thai state through the use of violence. At the same time their ability to foment unrest is even more restricted.


The Thai public cannot sympathize with these violent operations, and political separation from the Thai state would certainly require its consent. Yet the separatist movement has never seriously attempted to communicate its position to the Thai public (it is only recently that some organizations’ leaflets have begun to be written in Thai; formerly they were all written in the local Malay dialect and in Jawi script). The actions of the militants, therefore, would seem only to result in the strengthening of the Thai public’s opposition to the separatists.


The question is whether these organizations have ever seriously thought of achieving their goal of a separate state, or whether they just use secessionist sentiment in order to mobilize the small people in armed uprisings – while their real objective is simply to achieve a stronger bargaining position in negotiations.


These organizations have never laid out their plans for a viable future state. Some PULO statements have referred to an abundance of natural resources in the “Melayu Pattani” territory. While it may be true that this area has natural resources, what exactly these natural resources consist of has never been made clear in their statements (PULO has mentioned the existence of gold mines, but in reference to the past). It would appear that PULO itself does not have any clear plan as to who, in an independent Pattani state, would have access to these resources and how these resources would be distributed to the people; what the role of the 20 percent of the population that is not Melayu Muslim who dominate the urban economy would be; and how to deal with those outside capitalists who have invested in fisheries and related industries, so that these abundant resources could be used in a way that is fair to every party.


Moreover, the cultural identity of this new Pattani state is even less clear, other than the use of the local dialect and Islam. Would this new state be an Islamic state? But what is referred to as an “Islamic state” can have varying degrees of intensity. How Islamic would this newly constituted Pattani state be?


People always speak of Pattani’s glory in the past, but the resurrection of Pattani history did not come about through the efforts of the separatist movement. The latter part of the Hikayat Pattani was a work written by Ibrahim Syukri whose name, as far as I know, is not linked with any separatist movement. Moreover, the Melayu manuscript that was disseminated in mimeograph form was written in Rumi script in high Melayu, which means that most common people could not read it. In fact, it is the Thai version translated by an academic institution belonging to the Thai state that has been more widely published than the original version itself, and it has also been widely cited in Thai academic works.


Amidst this absence of ideology, the Kreuse mosque became the only tangible cultural symbol for the villagers. The attempt to revive the Pattani kris, or the search for and reproduction of ancient technologies, were projects carried out by Thai academics (in collaboration with local villagers) and were funded by the Thailand Research Fund, which is a Thai government agency. It was represented in the Thai academic community as the local culture of the Thai state. There is no context for a Pattani state independent of Thai political authority, either in the past or in the future.


I believe that the separatist organizations do dream of an independent Pattani state, or at least one free of the “oppression” of the Thai state. But these organizations, and especially the militants, have only a vague idea of this fantasy. But that is unimportant, because the imaginary Pattani state they dream of is just a symbol, or more specifically, a utopian state … something – anything – except the reality of today. No one has been able to conceptualize a viable state, so what we have instead is a fantasy state. It has no future reality, since there are no real means in the present to realize the ideal.


Even one of PULO’s own statements, which claims that “with the natural resources from both the land and the sea we could build a country as rich as Brunei, our brother,” suggests that this is all just about a utopian state.


As for Islam, certain high-ranking state officials and some secret intelligence reports have attempted to connect this social movement to international Muslim fundamentalism, both in terms of funding sources and ideology. In fact, no one has ever been able to provide any concrete evidence to prove this fantasy. Some intelligence reports have compiled biographies of foreign Muslims who have come to teach in several schools and pondoks in the South, but there is not a single piece of intelligence that clearly demonstrates that they are a risk to national security. Most of them were not granted extensions to their stay from the Immigration Department. So they simply went to Malaysia and clandestinely re-entered the country as tourists and stayed illegally, which is no different to those migrant laborers who fled poverty in their own countries to work in Thailand. One foreigner suspected of undermining Thai national security who had secretly re-entered from Malaysia could not find his former teaching job and so turned to smuggling illegal beef from Malaysia. He was certainly not a learned ulama who could gain a faithful following from the people. He was not conversant with the ideology of Islamic fundamentalism and did not seem to be a devoted follower of the doctrine of those radical militant groups such as Al Qaeda. He was just a man living as an itinerant, struggling to survive a poverty-stricken life in today’s borderless world.


If we consider the “Islamic” aspects of the militants’ behavior, it to consist simply of the common principles with which every Muslim is familiar. There is nothing to suggest that the militants or any of the various organizations have any profound knowledge of Islam. The police and military like to link the movement and the militants to religious teachers (toh khru) or foreign Islamic scholars. But even if a real relationship does exist, there is no profound Islamic teaching in this social movement. There is no document that explains the separatist rationality in sophisticated religious doctrine. One PULO statement purportedly quoted the Qur’an as declaring that “it is forbidden to live under kafir (heathen) rule; in fact those who take a kafir as their ruler will never achieve success, either in this world or in the next.” However, the Islamic experts that the author has consulted said there is no such verse in the Qur’an, and verses that do exist of a similar nature could be interpreted in many ways. Moreover, the statement’s call, “Awake, brothers of Melayu Pattani and Melayu brothers everywhere! Awake to fight against Siamese injustice in every form!” is certainly not aimed at a Muslim audience.


Some newspapers reported that some of the dead militants wore shirts on the back of which was written in Arabic script, “There is no god but God.” This declaration in Arabic is as familiar to every Muslim as the beginning of the Buddhist prayer, “Namo tassa,” is to every Buddhist. It is the first half of the declaration of faith in Arabic which every Muslim has to pronounce, “There is no god but Allah and the Prophet Muhammad is his Messenger.”[4]


Some media sources mentioned other messages written in Arabic script on the clothes of those killed, which they loosely translated as “let me die for God.” In fact, “Lâ ilâha illâ Allah” means, according to the villagers of Datoh village, “there is no god worthy of worship except Allah” (in fact, this is simply the first half of the declaration of faith, as mentioned above). Traditionally, when a sick person is gravely ill, his relatives and friends will lead him in uttering the first half of the declaration, because it is believed that Prophet Muhammad also uttered this phrase before his death (Srisakra, p.33).


Therefore, the most that the Arabic text written on the clothes of the militants could mean is that they were ready to die. Or, they may have used this important declaration for Muslims as a kind of mantra, for what other Arabic phrase could be more “sacred” to the Muslim villagers than this?


Similarly, the phrase “Allahu Akbar,” or “God is great,” which according to some media reports the militants cried out during their attacks, is a phrase in praise of God that is familiar to Muslims around the world and has been uttered for centuries. And it could also be understood to be a “sacred” word.


All these elements suggest that the militants’ understanding of Islam is rather basic and does not differ significantly from the knowledge of Islam that is common among ordinary Muslims. This also appears to be in line with the conclusion mentioned above, that this social movement is not related to the traditional elite. The militants’ knowledge of Islam is hardly very profound in comparison with that of the toh khru.


(In fact, despite police and government claims, there is no proof whatsoever of relations between the militants and the pondok schools. For example, whenever there is a report that weapons are hidden in some pondok schools, the security forces that are sent to investigate have never been able to find any evidence of illegal activities. The government always concludes that the failure to find weapons is due to intelligence leaks… So, if weapons are found it confirms the government’s suspicions; but if they are not found its suspicions still remain. When will the government cast suspicion upon its own suspicions?)


There has been another media report that could lead to a further misunderstanding. The villagers who were the relatives of the dead militants did not arrange the bathing ceremony for the dead. Some media sources said that this was based on the belief that those who died in the path of God should not be bathed before burial. But according to Muslim custom in southern Thailand, people who have died from drowning, or have been burnt to death, or have been killed by wild animals, or have been left dead for several days, or have died defending their country or religion, similarly will not be bathed (Srisakra, p.18) (they are all examples of violent death). This is related to the idea of cleanliness which is very important in Islam. Therefore, the relatives’ insistence that they would not perform the bathing ceremony for the dead is quite normal Muslim practice that does not necessarily have any political significance.


The reaction that the militants have towards the Thai state, therefore, does not originate from any new political or religious ideology with which they have recently been indoctrinated. But, as I wish to argue in this essay, the change that has affected the villagers has not come from any ideology. The problem is related rather to the impact of economic and social changes on the villagers’ lives.


Indeed, in contrast to Islam, if we follow the reports that have been disseminated in the media, the author feels that it is supernatural beliefs (which are forbidden in Islam) that have played the more significant role in this conflict.


Some media sources reported that on 28 April 2004 the militants wore strings of beads (some reports say they were white) and wrapped their heads with red headbands. While the media gave considerable attention to the red headbands because they were comparable to those worn by the Hamas group in Palestine, the author is rather more interested in the strings of beads they wore. What is the reason they wore these strings of beads, which are not required by Islam and are not a necessary element of Islamic prayer? The Islamic sect that commonly uses strings of beads is the Sufi, whom the mainstream Sunni sect does not particularly approve of. In the history of Islam, the Sufi have rebelled against the Sunni ulama and their governments many times, and these rebellions have also been suppressed by the Sunni many times. But a string of beads is merely an instrument for use in Sufi meditation rather than a talisman giving the wearer powers of invulnerability. The reason those Sufi “rishi” [ascetics] wore strings of beads around their necks was in order to prevent them from being lost.


It appears that the militants’ knowledge of Sufism was not particularly profound. The Sabayoi youth stated that they were followers of “Latthi Supri” [Sufism]. (Note the pronunciation of this word; there is no “f” sound in the Melayu language, therefore Arabic words that contain this consonant may be pronounced in two ways, either with an “f” or a “p” sound, which is the closest sound in the Melayu tongue. Whereas educated people can pronounce the “f” sound, ordinary villagers would pronounce this consonant as a “p” sound. For example, the Arabic word faham – meaning to understand – would likely be pronounced by villagers as “paham.” Thus the youths’ reference to Sufism as “Supri” or “Supi” is a reflection of their level of familiarity with authentic Sufism). These youths said that according to Sufi principles they had to perform the “ma-umna” ceremony before carrying out the operation, which consisted of meditating, chanting sacred verses, and counting the “gacabek” or strings of beads. This ceremony was secretly performed in a cave for one month. When they were ready to begin the operation they had to drink a cup of sacred water (Matichon, 2 May 2004).


This chanting of sacred verses before carrying out the attacks on the police posts was reported in almost all the media. One TV channel reported that the police found sacred verse on the body of one of the dead militants. However, when the police investigated its origin, they found it belonged to a young Muslim man who was not one of the militants. He testified that he was indeed the owner of the sacred verse, but that it in fact had belonged to his deceased father who had been a police warrant officer. The sacred verse gave the owner powers of invulnerability, for example, the ability to conceal oneself from the enemy and to protect oneself from weapons. One of the dead militants had asked him for the sacred verse, but he did not know what they were going to do with it.


Another report from the Kreuse mosque stated that each of the militants had to drink a kind of blue liquid before carrying out the attack. The author believes this drink was sacred water rather than a drug.[5]


The belief that they were protected by supernatural powers gave the militants such courage on 28 April 2004 that the Thai Army Commander acknowledged in an interview that, “from our experience in battle we have never encountered such wild, fearless, exceptional fighters” (Matichon, 2 May 2004). Just as in militant uprisings in the past, when the combatants depended on supernatural powers and found that the sacred verses could not protect them from the enemy, they fled to save their lives, as in the case of the 16 bodies found in Sabayoi district. After losing their friends in the attack, the militants fled and hid themselves in a local restaurant, but were pursued by the security forces who killed them all. In the case of the incident at Kreuse mosque, although we are not yet clear as to what actually happened, the release of three hostages (Bangkok Post, 29 April 2004) suggests there was a possibility of negotiation with the militants. It seems they had begun to doubt the efficacy of their supernatural powers.


Millenarian Rebellions


The author has presented this account of the facts in order to argue that there is no way of understanding this social movement in southern Thailand if we rely solely on the theory (or perspective) that focuses on the “ringleader,” or that attempts to explain only certain phenomena while totally neglecting many other related phenomena. The theories presented by government leaders and certain officials in the bureaucracy contradict one another (and sometimes even contradict themselves) and are unable to explain all these phenomena.


The author would like to argue that any theory that is to fully explain this social movement must focus on the large numbers of “small people” who participated in the uprisings. It is they who form the real substance of this social movement, and this movement must be understood as a twentieth-first century “millenarian” rebellion.


“Millenarian movements,” which are referred to in Thai as “peasant revolts” (kabot chao na) or “Phra Sri-arn rebellions” (kabot phra sri-arn), are resistance movements of the small people at the local level, for example, peasants, rubber-tapping laborers working deep in the thick jungle, coastal fishermen, itinerant animal herders, miners, indigenous people, etc. These small people have regularly risen up in opposition to changes they can not very well understand other than the fact that the changes have come from the outside and are having a devastating effect on their lives. These outside forces are typically the central government or its officials, outside traders, capital and outside capitalists (since the villagers tend to possess a means of dealing with local capitalists, i.e. accusing them of being blood-sucking spirits), new religious organizations, etc.


Because these changes affected the small people worldwide in the nineteenth century, that century witnessed millenarian uprisings in many countries. And because there is a wealth of information about these social movements, the millenarian movements of the nineteenth century have been employed as a model to explain similar movements in other centuries. One must be aware, however, in presenting an explanation based on the pattern of millenarian revolts in previous centuries, of the different global context that exists today. For example, better communications can facilitate peasant uprisings over a larger area compared to the locally-based operations of the past. The organizational capacity of movements is also more efficient, not to mention advances in technology which have produced much more lethal weaponry.


As mentioned above, the small people do not clearly understand the changes that are affecting their lives, thus they do not know who their real enemy is. Their mobilization of force is not directed at any specific targets. They tend to target their enemy’s symbols rather than the enemy itself, since the enemy is most often an outsider and out of reach of the anger of these small people. One example of these millenarian movements in Thailand was the Ngiaw rebellion in Phrae in the late nineteenth century. The rebels sought to kill only the “Thai people” in the local area of northern Thailand, specifically referring to the officials dispatched from the central government. In the case of contemporary southern Thailand, those officials who have been attacked were low-ranking policemen or soldiers, teachers, district or village heads, and even hospital guards. Most of the government offices that have been targeted in arson attacks were abandoned or remote police checkpoints. All of these targets are so small that their loss is hardly even felt by the Thai state which they consider their enemy. One villager in Yaring commented that if the militants really wanted to burn down schools, they could carry out arson attacks on schools every day. But the burning down of schools is a symbolic gesture, so they selectively attack only those schools that are located close to the street and are easily accessible, which is more dangerous than burning down a remote school which is far from the government officials (Note from a conversation between academics and villagers, in Srisakra, p.29).


With regard to ideology and organization, these small people tend not to think in complex ideological terms. Their thinking derives for the most part from popular religion and is not particularly closely related to religious organizations. Their religious beliefs are therefore not those of the learned religious scholar. As in “peasant rebellions” led by religious leaders, such as that of Chao Phra Fang following the fall of Ayuthaya in 1767, the leader often adopts unorthodox religious practices which deviate from the norms of organized religion; i.e., it was said that Chao Phra Fang dressed himself in a red monastic robe. At the same time the leaders rely on supernatural powers, which is consistent with the nature of millenarian rebellions that tend to depend upon the leader’s personal charisma. For example, in the “Holy Men rebellion” during the reign of King Chulalongkorn, the leaders were former monks who had spent periods of their lives in monasteries and could perform supernatural acts, such as placing their hand in boiling oil, etc. Such beliefs are also consistent with the limited weaponry available to peasant rebellions. Most of the weapons they use are easily available agricultural tools.



Because millenarian movements are a reaction to undesirable changes – for example, the shift from tax in kind or service to monetary taxation – or to the peasants’ exclusion from access to natural resources which they had previously used freely – such as the prohibition on wood-cutting in the forest – the ideology of millenarian movements is often based around the promise of a coming utopia or an ideal state in which everyone is equal, extending to relations between men and women, or in which there is no private property. Such idealism is often taken from the ideals of the small agricultural communities they are familiar with and is easily understood by the general “peasantry.”


And because millenarian movements originate among the small people, who do not enjoy significant political connections, these movements are often not linked to the traditional elite. For example, they are not linked to leaders in the religious establishment, the intelligentsia, local political leaders, state officials, or capitalists. (However, they may receive covert support from certain parties who take advantage of “peasant rebellions” in order to acquire power and influence; for example, it was believed that the Ngiaw rebellion in Phrae was secretly supported by some local rulers). The absence of the traditional elite means that the space for resistance available to millenarian movements is limited, not just in geographical terms but also in terms of politics, the mass media, academia, religion, education, and the economy. In most cases, these spaces for struggle are completely closed off to them. Thereby, they have only one space left: resistance to authority. If this provokes government suppression, then armed conflict is likely to be the response.


The author believes that we can only explain the current large-scale social movement in southern Thailand by viewing it as a millenarian revolt. The difference between it and nineteenth-century examples are only found in the changed global context mentioned above. For example, some news reports stated that the signal given for the commencement of operations on 28 April 2004 was a local radio program popular throughout lower southern Thailand. Such internal organization is of course more efficient than the millenarian rebellions of the nineteenth century, but only because of modern communications technology.


The relationship that exists between the militants and the traditional elite, whether they be the toh khru, imams, local politicians, or even former anti-government organizations, is rather superficial, or at least a deeper relationship has yet to be proven.[6] Therefore the association of this movement with the long succession of Pattani “rebellions” that have occurred over the last century explains nothing. In fact, this movement represents a decisive break from former political movements, since all of those movements were led by the traditional elite, whether they were descendants of the royal families, toh imam, or local politicians (all of whom were part of the elite of Thai society, or to put it in other words, were already an advantaged group in Thai society …one need only look at the background of Wan Muhammad Noor Matha, Den Tohmeena, Aripen Uttarasin, etc. These people have already “invested” heavily in Thai society and the Thai system, and at the same time have reaped considerable “profits” from it, in the same way as those who have been able to devote long periods of time to religious study and have become toh khru or toh imam – to the extent that these positions in many areas have been the preserve of certain leading families – or those who have traveled to Mecca for the Haj and have returned as Hajji). Thus it is rather difficult for this elite – both the traditional elite and the new elite that has emerged from modern changes – to participate in a social movement that lacks a clear objective or a practical means of achieving it. Furthermore, what could be said to be the movement’s objectives are certainly not in their interest, and might even directly conflict with their interests.


However, this does not mean that the villagers lack the historical knowledge that would relate their movement to the past. The villagers do retain their own version of Pattani history in their memories. The villagers of Datoh village can remember that a tomb surrounded by a fence in Yaring cemetery belongs to a Pattani ruler and his royal family. They know that this ruler was a former Trengganu king who once ruled Pattani but fled after being attacked and defeated by Thai forces. Therefore, no one brings their dead to be buried in this cemetery, and no one has ever visited this tomb (Srisakra, pp.19-20). But as mentioned above, this movement is a millenarian revolt, not the continuation of a struggle against the Thai state by the traditional elite.


If there is any relationship with the movements in the past, it might be with the Duson Nyoir incident of 1948.


The author does not know whether the choice of 28 April for the date of the militants’ operation was intentionally made to coincide with that of the Duson Nyoir uprising or not. If it was, it surely demonstrates that this was indeed a “millenarian rebellion,” because the Duson Nyoir incident was certainly a real, authentic millenarian rebellion. It began with villagers taking part in a supernatural ceremony to confer upon themselves the power of invulnerability in their fight against Malayan Chinese bandits who had plundered the community’s provisions and food stores. When government officials became suspicious of their conduct the villagers became angry and eventually fighting and killing broke out[7] with the objective of eliminating state authority from the community. There does not appear to have been any clear political objective beyond this.


If the militants wanted to link their movement with the Duson Nyoir uprising, it is particularly interesting, since the only movement that the militants considered related to their movement was a famous millenarian revolt.


Although millenarian revolts are movements of the small people from the lowest class, this does not mean that other people do not become involved in order to manipulate the movement to their own advantage (as mentioned above). The former anti-government organizations such as PULO or BRN certainly want to link themselves to the movement (but as mentioned above, the author feels that these links are not particularly close). Competition between local politicians is also likely to lead other people to become involved based on political interest. Despite this, the author still maintains that the heart of the movement is the low-ranking small people, and that other parties are only marginally involved.


Factors Contributing to the “Peasant Revolt”


Over the last few decades the three or four provinces in the lower part of southern Thailand have experienced profound changes. We might sum up these changes as being the result of the expansion of national capital (that is linked to transnational capital), which has led to villagers’ dispossession of natural resources from the villagers, some of whom have been unable to adapt to the changes. The author would like to refer here to the experience of Ajan Srisakra Vallibotama in the Pattani Bay, which clearly demonstrates these changes:


“Over the last ten years I have witnessed … economic and social changes from Ban Bangpu to Panareh and Yaring. Internal changes include a coconut plantation around the bay that was turned into a shrimp farm. As for those changes influenced by external factors, the villagers have organized demonstrations against the fleets of large fishing trawlers. According to the villagers these trawlers were accompanied by a fisheries research vessel belonging to the Department of Fisheries. Trawlers with push nets owned by capitalists in the fish export industry are wiping out the shellfish. These trawlers can catch tens of tonnes of shellfish each day, and have devastated many different kinds of marine life. At that time local fishermen used the local koleh offshore fishing boats that could catch at most 12 kilograms of fish a day.”[8]


Today this fleet of large fishing trawlers owned by outside capitalists has devastated fish stocks and marine resources in Pattani Bay. The villagers’ response to this deterioration of the ecosystem is very limited, and in some cases might even be leading to an acceleration of the process of deterioration. Srisakra has described the changes that have taken place in the Pattani bay:


“Three or 4 years ago when I returned to Panareh the villagers had been forced to increase their catches of fish; from 12 kilograms previously it had increased to 20-30 kilograms per day. The once clean seashore had become dirty, littered with rubbish, decomposing fish, crabs, and shells (meaning that people have less time for common concerns). Shrimp farms had replaced the coconut plantations. These were some of the changes that had taken place within these communities in response to external changes.”[9]


Outside capitalists are increasingly arriving, seeking opportunities in the Pattani area. The author has witnessed the daughter of a Muslim family in Rusamilae village who must leave for work as early as 2 a.m. A car is sent to pick her up to sort fish at the pier where fish are landed and auctioned daily. She has to work with male laborers who carry baskets of fish from the boats, which appears to conflict greatly with local custom which regards women as the family’s honor. The fishermen have to go into debt, borrowing money to install engines in the native koleh boats; since there are no more fish left close to the shore they are forced to go further out into the open sea. And because they go further into debt they have to catch more fish, which means they need bigger and more powerful engines, with the result that they are endlessly in debt. Meanwhile, women also work now on the fishing boats in the open sea, despite the traditional custom forbidding women from setting foot on the koleh.


Social relationships within the community have also changed from mutual dependence to contractual relationships between capitalists and wage laborers. Srisakra argues that the relationship has become one of profit-seeking and exploitation. The outside capitalists who have come to invest differ from local capitalists with whom the villagers are familiar: their relationship is based solely on employment, and the distant capitalists may not even set foot in the locality. The villagers at Chana (Songkhla) were unable negotiate with factory owners who have drained polluted water into their paddy fields. Similarly, villagers who own agricultural land close to shrimp farms have been forced to abandon agriculture as a result. Naturally, appeals to government agencies are useless; gossip and backbiting, which were once very effective as a social control mechanism, have become useless in the present situation.


The author has no statistics relating to investment by outside capitalists in rubber plantations or other industries in the three southern provinces, but I have heard from the local people that it is quite considerable. Wherever the villagers turn they meet people with whom they are unable to develop a power relationship based on a more equal footing, either locals who have transformed themselves into new capitalists, or outside capitalists. At the same time the villagers have less access to natural resources. They are increasingly being forced to sell their private property and turn themselves into wage laborers, making it difficult for them to sustain a traditional culture that has roots in a different social and economic structure.


What these small people in the lower southern provinces have experienced in the last few decades has been their impoverishment in every respect. They have been unable to respond successfully to the ever-encroaching changes that have pressed down upon them. One last recourse considered by the villagers is entry into the educational system, but this path is not open to very many. One villager in Yaring district remarked that today there are so many Muslims who want to study that there are not enough places for them. They believe that Prince of Songkhla University in Pattani does not maintain a quota for local students like other universities (in fact, Prince of Songkhla University in Pattani does maintain a quota, but like other regional universities it only gives attention to the quota percentage, not to differences between students from country areas and those from towns and cities). Some villagers question how Muslim students who are not fluent in Thai can compete with other Thai students if the universities employ a centrally determined standard for student entrance.


So even if they try to adapt themselves to the capitalist system there is simply no opportunity for them to do so. Their future is full of darkness because they simply do not know how to live amidst changes they are unable to respond to.


In fact, this fate is not limited to the Melayu Muslims, but is the same fate of other small Thai people. But for reasons the author will not go into in detail here (problems related to identity, or the fact that although they may share a similar sense of alienation in regard to their identity, other factors limit their alternatives), small people in other regions choose to struggle within the existing political system, for example, the Assembly of the Poor, the Forum of Indigenous People, etc., while the Melayu Muslims have chosen to pursue their struggle outside the system.


“Peasant Revolt” and the Modern State


In traditional states, millenarian uprisings were actually able to destroy the state or, in many cases, at least shake its foundations. For example, the Tayson rebellion in Vietnam was able to topple the Le dynasty and establish an alternative (to the extent that it could be called ‘revolutionary’) political regime over Vietnam until it was crushed by the Nguyen family and the Gia Long dynasty. In China, the Taiping rebellion shook the foundations of the Ch’ing dynasty and was able to control over half of China before it was defeated. Chu Yuan-chang, the founder of the Ming dynasty, was in fact the leader of a millenarian movement, but because he received the support of the Chinese intellectuals, he was able to establish a new dynasty to rule China using an old model.


However, for modern states millenarian movements are merely a minor nuisance. The militants’ forces are limited to a quite restricted area, whereas the state has become much more powerful, both in organization and military technology. Society in a modern state is also much more complex. The peasantry’s interests may conflict with those of other interest groups who, though they may not be in the majority, are greater in number and have more political and social influence (i.e., the middle class or the upwardly mobile lower class). In terms of social space, then, millenarian movements are even more limited. Moreover, politics in the modern state has opened up opportunities for those who have the money, education, or organizational skills to enter into and negotiate with the existing order – and clearly these are not the “peasants.”


Even the Siamese absolutist state, which underwent transformation into a modern state in the late nineteenth century, was able to deal with numerous millenarian rebellions that took place throughout the country with little difficulty. It did so by employing its newly established standing army to decisively crush the rebels. Furthermore, it was able to maintain the policies that had caused so much dissatisfaction among the “peasants” even though it had to delay the enforcement of those policies in certain areas.


The lack of a sophisticated ideology which could incorporate the social practices of other groups led to the isolation of millenarian movements. In Thailand, the late nineteenth century peasant revolt in the northeast has been represented as a movement based on the personal interests of the leaders, the phi bun [“Holy Men”], while the peasants’ suffering was ignored and eventually forgotten by society.


Therefore, there has not been a single millenarian revolt in a modern state that has been able to destabilize the state or its government.


In the case of southern Thailand today, in the final analysis there is absolutely no way that the militants’ actions can affect the state’s territorial integration (despite the government’s poor handling of the situation and its resort to bloody killings). However, the possibility of a permanent, peaceful solution to the conflict in the south does not depend only on the activities of the militants. While the uprising itself is not difficult to crush, those “peasants” who are most severely affected by their exclusion from access to resources may join other forms of anti-government political action that are not millenarian movements, in the same way that many “peasants” in Thailand once joined forces with the Communist Part of Thailand. Or, the suffering of “peasants” could lead to other forms of unrest besides terrorism or attacks on government officials.


It should also be said that a modern state, especially in a developing country like Thailand, often resorts to violence and sometimes cruel and barbaric acts in dealing with millenarian revolts. It is difficult for developing states to understand the mentality of rebellious “peasants.” Often these people are different in terms of ethnicity, religion, culture, or language (such as the Moros in the Philippines, the Indians in Mexico, the indigenous people in Sarawak, the Melayu Muslims in southern Thailand, the Cham in Vietnam, the Rohingya in the Arakan region of Myanmar, etc). Even more significant is the difference in ideology. Millenarian rebellions usually fight to defend a traditional pattern of resource use. They oppose laws that open up natural resources for the use of people outside their community, laws that prohibit the villagers’ access to these resources, or policies that make the traditional use of natural resources by the villagers unprofitable or that redefine such use as a criminal act. Whereas the “peasants” require diversity in their use of natural resources, developing states need unity of usage (so as to determine priorities between, for example, fisheries and the construction of a dam or gas pipeline). “Peasants” prefer resources to be distributed to people according to their particular skills, while developing states require the centralization of resource use in order to “maximize” their utility to create income for the country. The demands of the “peasants” are thus in direct conflict with the “development” model. There is no way for a developing state to compromise with them without utterly destroying its legitimacy as a developing state.


These differences mean that modern states – especially developing states – do not look upon millenarian movements in a particularly humane way. It is not possible to explain that the rebellious peasants are backward people who are being drawn into the modern world (development) which is the basis of the state’s legitimacy, because “they” are rebels; they cannot be bought, they cannot be lured, and they are unwilling to accept compensation for their losses. So they must be wiped out, and the easiest way (but perhaps not the most successful) is to exterminate them. More than ten thousand Zapatista rebels (who used mostly sickles, knives, and hatchets, similar to the militants on 28 April) were killed by the Mexican government. The author feels that even the communists are accorded far more respect as “enemies” of the state than are the “peasant rebels.”


What is the “Peaceful” Way Out?


Everyone agrees that we should resolve the problem through “peaceful means.” But this phrase means more than simply not killing people with weapons; it should include refraining from the use of violence of any form. From the point of view of the author, the lack of “peace” in the South is a result of the state’s development policy that has allowed the penetration of capital to exclude the small people from access to natural resources, while the state has neither the ability nor the intent to control the situation and produce a just solution. At the same time, the state does not (in practice) provide opportunities to help the small people gradually adjust and develop skills that would enable them to compete in the capitalist market without being at a disadvantage with other groups.


All these factors are part of the violence and are a long way from the real meaning of “peace.”


The author fully agrees with other proposals (such as that of Deputy Prime Minister Chaturon Chaisaeng) to try to overcome the state of mutual suspicion by ensuring that justice is applied through the strict application of the law, and to get rid of state agencies that are responsible for creating conditions of mutual hatred. But this is not enough, because the violence will not be eliminated until improvements are made to the development policy to make it truly equitable.


The author hopes that this essay will help the public see more clearly the complexity of the situation in the south and join together to push for changes to these unjust development policies. But the author has only a faint hope, since it is well known that this is a major issue affecting the interests of a large number of capitalists, all of whom currently enjoy political power. When one looks to the media or the middle class, who are in the best position to exert pressure on the government, they appear to be blindly following the leadership of the developing state. So peoples’ deaths have become a mere commodity that is exchanged between security officials and “peasant rebels,” like a figure recorded when a goal is scored in a football game.





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[1] By “peasant” (chao na) here I do not mean only the self-sufficient petty agriculturalist, but other small people in various occupations, i.e. miners, rubber-tappers, charcoal burners, etc. Nevertheless, Thai academics tend to refer to a social movement of this nature as a “peasant rebellion” to suit the Thai context. [Translator’s note: the Thai term, kabot chao na, may be translated either as a “millenarian revolt” or “peasant revolt.”]

I would also like to warn the reader that the information that I have been able to access about the situation in southern Thailand is for the most part unreliable. The government has intentionally deceived the public or covered up the facts, or does not actually know the true situation, and the same is true of the opposing party. The mass media has also not done its homework thoroughly enough. Apart from the problem of unreliable information there is simply so little of it since most of the attention has focussed only on the details of the actual incident itself.

[2] PULO is the acronym of the Pattani United Liberation Organization; BRN, the Barisan Rakyat Nasional (People’s National Front); and, Bersatu, the United Front for the Independence of Pattani.

[3] A Swedish newspaper has featured an interview with Samsuddin Khan, a senior member of PULO currently living in exile in Sweden, who claimed that his organization was responsible for the attack on April 28 however, according to the Thai 4th Region Army Commander, this claim is unreliable (Bangkok Post, 13 May 2004).

[4] Translated from an account by villagers, cited in “Khrongkan sueksa kanplianplang thang sangkhom lae watthanatham koranisueksa bandato lae ban phumi amphor yaring changwat pattani” [A research project on social and cultural change, A case study of Bandato and Banphumi, Amphor Jering, Pattani], a villager-researcher training project coordinated by Srisakara Vallibhotama, p.32.

[5] Four men who participated in the 28 April operation and surrendered themselves to the governor of the Yala province confessed during interrogation by the 4th Army that before carrying out the operation, following evening prayers on 27 April, they were given a sacred water. After drinking this sacred water, they were told, they would be invisible to the police (Bangkok Post, 13 May 2004).

[6] A military report into the incident stated that the 28 April operation was led by a new separatist organization, namely the Pemuda Bersatu (Youth Unity). But it is not yet clear whether this new organ is part of a shadowy network composed of several other organizations or is a new group operating independently. The 4th Army Commander suspects that this new organization does not have any links to the older ones (Bangkok Post, 13 May 2004).

[7] See the report by Thanawat Chae-un, Matichon, 5 May 2004, which, while differing in certain details from research done by certain academics, is consistent with the main points.

[8] Srisakra’s speech, “Kha ma, Kha hen, Kha khaochai: Pattani kab khwam lalang thang watthanatham thi yang thamrong khwam pen manut” [I came, I saw, I understood: Pattani and cultural backwardness that retains a sense of humanity], p.5.

[9] “Khrongkan sueksa kanplianplang thang sangkhom lae watthanatham,” pp.5-6.

from http://kyotoreview.cseas.kyoto-u.ac.jp

The Thai Cultural Constitution

The Thai Cultural Constitution


Nidhi Eoseewong


Translator’s Note. By the mid 1980s, Nidhi Eoseewong was established as one of the most original historians of Thailand. From around 1985, he wrote a series of long essays which use historical perspective to analyse modern society and politics. This essay is one of the most famous of this series.


It first appeared in November 1991.[1] In February of that year, an army junta (the NPKC) had seized power by coup, displacing the first government headed by an elected prime minister since 1976. The coup was initially well received by the Bangkok press, business, and middle class but this support gradually dissolved over the following year, especially when the generals drafted a constitution designed to reinstate the military’s political role. Demonstrations against this draft began in the same month this essay appeared and climaxed on 17–20 May 1992 when soldiers fired into the crowd. This crisis led to a revision of the constitution draft and restoration of democratic parliamentary government.


Appearing against this background, the essay could not fail to be controversial and has remained so. Nidhi argues that the power relations and operating principles of Thai politics are very different from those enshrined in its many written constitutions (and, indeed, those used by most academic analysis). In his introduction to a 1995 collection of Nidhi’s articles including this one, Thongchai Winichakul noted that Nidhi’s perspective in this essay offered unique insight on Thai politics, but was also “much too close to reactionary discourse.”[2] From King Chulalongkorn to the military dictator Sarit Thanarat, rulers had undermined dissent by painting it as “western,” and had justified their own rule by presenting it as “Thai.” Bringing in western-inspired constitutions, Thongchai suggests, might be a good way to fight the “dark” side of the power relations which Nidhi calls the cultural constitution.


But, as Thongchai also notes, nobody can mistake Nidhi for a reactionary and apologist of dictatorship. This little disagreement between Thongchai and Nidhi is one moment of a larger debate among Thai intellectuals in the transition from the era of the Cold War to the era of globalization. Some argued that the route of modernization, as mapped by either liberal or Marxist theory, still presents the best challenge to old forms of domination. Others argued that the failure of both communism and democracy dictates that a new politics must be built upon more accurate understanding of local society and culture, free of the teleology of modernism. This essay – and others in the same series – are part of Nidhi’s contribution to the latter project.


Except where indicated, the notes are mine. Thanks to Acharn Nidhi for permission, and to Acharn Pasuk for help. Chris Baker




The constitution is said to be the supreme law, but only because foreigners said this already. We copied their textbook and memorised it like a parrot. It has no real meaning in Thai culture. If it had real meaning, the constitution could not be torn up often, and laws, ministerial orders, regulations, and so on could not contravene the constitution. But in Thailand the constitution is torn up often, and more easily than the various rules and regulations of ministries and departments. Besides, there are many laws, ministerial orders, regulations, and so on, which contravene the constitution. Yet neither those enforcing these rules, nor those subject to them, feel any embarrassment at all. For instance, the Interior Ministry rejects women for the post of deputy district officer (palat amphoe) but denies this is on account of gender; and some medical schools refuse entry to people who are lame without any serious proof that the disability is any obstacle to the profession.


What is a constitution? This has to be understood well.


A constitution is the arrangement of power relations among various individuals and institutions in a state. The phrase “power relations” in everyday language means “who is bigger than who” and under what conditions.


But there’s a little problem in defining a constitution as an arrangement in this way; it may create the misunderstanding among people with weapons or clever people with social standing that “if that’s so, I’ll arrange things myself,” whether for personal interest or for the progress of the nation is open to debate.


In truth, the arrangement of power relations in a society does not arise because someone arranges them, but because various people and institutions struggle to create and defend their power status over a long time until it gains a certain acceptance and becomes part of administrative or political custom. That is, the ways of life, ways of thinking, and values of the society come to accept that legitimate powers must be related together in a certain way. This is the political culture.


The political culture of any society is not static because the competition to create and defend power status among institutions and individuals goes on continuously in response to trends of economic and social change. The political values of people in a society may alter. For example, people may think that old power relations between one institution and another are no longer legitimate and should be changed.


It is this political culture which is the true supreme arrangement of power relations. Or, to put it another way, political culture is the state’s true constitution. This constitution cannot be torn up, however many tanks are used. Other laws, ministerial orders, and regulations cannot contravene the provisions in the political culture or in this true constitution. So let this true constitution be called the cultural constitution. This cultural constitution cannot be “drafted,” but arises from the long-term experience of the society over centuries. Hence learned people (nak prat) in the pay of the military are not involved, and the cultural constitution of every society is not a written document at all.


In some societies, the content of the written constitution is fairly consistent with the cultural constitution. Such written constitutions can survive fairly permanently, even though there must be room to amend them all the time. However, even in countries where the written constitution has no problems because it is fairly consistent with the cultural constitution, politics and government are still based a great deal on other, unwritten customs. For example, the custom that the US president is limited to two terms cannot be found laid down anywhere in the US constitution, but is practiced as a custom of politics which is never infringed and can be considered no less sacred than other provisions in the written constitution.


Conversely, in some societies the drafted constitution is not consistent with the political culture and so has no sacredness. The army tears up the constitution at will, and the mass of the population does not feel incensed. This is because the people know that the army cannot violate the cultural constitution which is not visible as a written constitution. Sometimes, however, army leaders gaily violate the cultural constitution, resulting in widespread popular dissatisfaction which undermines the leaders to the point that they cannot retain power.


Thailand is one such case. It has a cultural constitution which is sacred and inviolable (but gradually changes all the time), and it has a constitution drafted by servants of the military which has to be torn up from time to time (whenever it is torn up, the old servants are ready to draft it anew). But the content of the cultural constitution has never really been studied. Understanding this constitution is important because it creates understanding both of Thai political culture and of the source of changes in Thai political culture as well.


What follows is a study of only the major institutions in the cultural constitution. It’s impossible to say much about the power relations among these institutions. I don’t know enough to talk about some matters, and I don’t dare talk about others.


Some Institutions in the Cultural Constitution


Monarchy
Whether it is inscribed in the written constitution or not, the monarchy penetrates every part of Thai culture to the point that it is very difficult to do without this institution. Whether it is written or not, the king is in a position of revered worship and shall not be violated.[3] If the section in the constitution on the king were totally removed, it would not shake the Thai monarchy at all, because this section is securely in the cultural constitution already. This is the reason why, however many times the constitution has been torn up, the section on the king in the newly drafted constitution has no significant change.


The written constitution deals with the king as an institution, not as an individual. This means that when the reign changes, there is no need to change this section in the constitution. However, the monarchy as laid down in the constitution is an institution that has roles and duties in the modern state. For example, the king is the head of state, is the head of the armed forces, has sovereignty through all three powers, is the upholder of religion, and so on.


But in the cultural constitution, the perspective on the “institution” of the king is different.


The Thai monarchy is “sacred” (saksit). Modern academics use this word to explain the monarchy with a new meaning which is not so different from being worshipped and revered. But the “sacredness” in the cultural constitution has an ancient type of meaning, which can be translated literally to mean having mystical power (sak) and might (sit).


In olden times, the monarchy in almost all societies was “sacred” in this sense.


In medieval Europe, it was believed that incurable invalids could be cured by the king’s touch. In other words, the king had mysterious power of medical treatment. The Chinese emperor was the son of heaven, and there were various ceremonies concerning the emperor which showed that he truly was the son of heaven, that this was not only a simile. These included the ceremony of making offerings to the heavens in the “model universe” of Tiananmen Square. The Japanese emperor was truly the son of the sun queen until the end of the Second World War.


In Thailand, it has been whispered among people from olden times that when Queen Srisuriyenthramat went into labour before her first delivery, Jao Jomsua asked for the water that had washed the feet of King Rama I to be given to the Queen to drink, and the labour pains eased. This showed the mystical medical power of the Thai monarch, just like European kings.


The writer once interviewed a monk who came from the line of the Chiang Saen[4] rulers (and who claimed it was the line of the Mangrai dynasty[5]). He spoke of matters which were passed on within the family about the time when King Kavila swept people down to Chiang Mai.[6] It was like all such sweeps; most of the people could escape it. But later, when the Chiang Saen ruling family and the people who were swept down with them had established a settlement near Chiang Mai, the other people followed down in their wake.


The writer asked the monk why the others followed, even though Chiang Mai had not sent an army to sweep them down. He replied that when a state has no ruler, the rain will not fall according to the seasons, so that if they remained at Chiang Saen they would face difficulty making a living from the land.


The Thai king hence has a certain mystical power which maintains the peace and order of the world. In olden times, such mystical power was demonstrated through things like the rain falling according to the season. Royal ceremonies about water, rain, agriculture, and so on, which appear in the palatine law of the Ayutthaya period, are based on the belief in the king’s mystical power of this kind.


The various royal customs and coronation ceremonies taken from India are only a surface covering over old Thai beliefs that the ruler of the country is “sacred” (among the Black Tai, the ruler is born directly from the sky god [thaen], unlike the ordinary people who are born from a gourd). Hindu royal ceremonies may have been discontinued and ancient royal customs of India no longer practiced, but the “sacredness” of the Thai monarchy still persists in the thinking of most Thai people.


Today when the king goes anywhere, people lay cloth for him to step on and take it home to worship. Anything he touches becomes a sacred object which must be kept like an offering.


Some day in the future, there may be a prime minister or military commander who is highly liked and esteemed by the people such that wherever he goes crowds come to welcome him with cheers. But it will be difficult to find someone to replace the king in the sense of sacredness. In Thailand there may be someone who is more “popular”[7] than the person who occupies the position of king (and in the past there may already have been, such as Chaophraya Borommaha Srisuriyawong at the start of the Fifth Reign[8]), but there is definitely nobody more sacred than the king.


In this respect the Thai monarchy is secure because this is laid down clearly in the Thai cultural constitution.


Even though the institution is safe and secure, the individuals who occupy the position are not necessarily safe and secure. In the practice of the Thai-Lao ethnic group from the past, it is understood that the most important property for holding the office of king is the right derived from birth or from the combined bloodlines of royalty. Old Thai legends (tamnan), whether of the Black Thai, Luang Prabang, or Thai Yuan, all focus on a royal clan. The old Singhonawat (Singhanavati) legend[9] is about the Singhonawat clan. The Khun Borom legend[10] is about the Khun Borom clan. The Thai Yai, Thai Ahom, and Black Thai all have stories about the founder of the royal clan descending from the sky.


The early history of Lanna, the Thai Lu, Luang Prabang, and even Ayutthaya show that overturning the throne does not mean changing the dynasty, but raising another prince of the dynastic line to replace the king. In Lanna, when the Mangrai line weakened and power fell into the hands of the nobles (khun nang), the nobles still had to choose a scion of the Mangrai dynasty to elevate as ruler, even when that meant a woman.[11]


There is a story from the above-mentioned interview with the monk from the Chiang Saen line that at the start of the Kavila or Thipchang dynasty[12] in Chiang Mai, the new dynasty tried to take descendants of the Chiang Saen rulers as consorts, because they believed the Chiang Saen line was the Mangrai line. But the Chiang Saen ruling group refused to offer their kin in marriage to the “family of elephant raisers” which had become the ruling family of Chiang Mai. In truth, whether or not there were marriages between these two families in the early years has not been investigated. However, the local chronicle composed in the early Kavila period claims that the new dynasty had a blood connection with the Mangrai line, showing that the standing (barami) of the Mangrai dynasty was “sacred” in the Lanna region (the Mangrai dynasty itself had a chronicle which “claimed” a connection with the Singhonawat dynasty).


A definite change of dynasty is something that happened not long ago in Thai history, and it is difficult to indicate in what period it first happened. King Prasat Thong’s mother came from the “Sukhothai” line, and if relatives are counted in the Thai way, including the female side, he can be considered related to the royal line.[13]


Even though the chronicle states that King Phetracha came from a Suphanburi commoner family, there is contemporary evidence that states his sister was King Narai’s first-ranked concubine, and in addition he was a close companion of Narai from childhood.[14] All this shows that Phetracha was probably born into an aristocratic family of Ayutthaya, and it would be no surprise at all to find evidence that there is a line of the Prasat Thong dynasty, especially on the female side.


If Phetracha was not the first commoner to seize the throne, then King Taksin and King Rama I were the first group of commoners to occupy the throne.[15] But ascending the throne at a time the state faced catastrophe (kaliyuga) was not a common occurrence, and must be considered exceptional. From then until now, there has been no other change of dynasty. Even though at certain times some noble families had more power than the dynasty, there was no change of dynasty.


Thus it is said that there is no law of succession to the throne in Thailand, but in fact it appears there is a law of sorts. The critical rule is that the successor to the throne must be of royal family (jao) (that is, from the group which descended the steps from the sky to come and govern according to the instruction of the sky god or thaen in Black Thai language). But the Thai law is not detailed to the extent of specifying that the eldest son (or the last child) must succeed. At the same time, there is no practice of ranking those with rights of succession to the throne according to any principle, as was introduced later by copying an English practice.


This then is the political mechanism of Thai society. To select the royal (jao nai) with the capability to become king, there was always competition over the throne, with more complexity in the background than the personal ambitions of the persons competing for the throne. This was because, after King Trailokanath’s centralization of power,[16] the role of the Thai king in governing the kingdom of Ayutthaya was very important. Any person who did not perform according to the hopes of the ruling class could not retain the position, but had to make way for his kinsmen who organised the nobles and people to fight for the throne. If the new king turned out to be no good, the throne would be fought over again.


Foreign sources from Phetracha’s time state that, after a fight over the throne, everything quickly returned to its former state as if nothing had happened. In other words, rivalry for the throne is not something which really shakes the system of politics and government. The writer understands that most of the succession disputes in Thai history were no different from Phetracha’s time, particularly the disputes which were concluded in a few days.


At present we tend to adopt the western attitude of looking for an institutional succession of political power such as a law, decision-making council, and so on, in the belief that succession disputes mean the system of politics and government is shaken. Westerners competed for the throne by warfare over many generations (for example, the War of the Roses in England lasted around a century).


But in Thailand succession disputes were over in one gasp. Mostly they were fought by coups inside the court. Sometimes the ruler was covertly poisoned; sometimes he was taken by surprise and executed; and so on. Even when it came down to civil war, it lasted only a few days before it was clear who had lost and won. The time taken for an election nowadays, beginning from the time they start throwing mud at one another and shooting election agents in the head, is much longer than the time taken fighting over the throne in olden times.


The reason why the old Thai method of succession disputes was peaceful and orderly was that the new group had no thought of violating the Thai cultural constitution. They knew how to put everything back in place, without any change. Even the coups that happened later were the same.


With this experience, the Thai have very high immunity to coups. They see a coup as a way to solve a problem and as a normal method of succession of power, no different from an election or an ordinary change of dynasty. Those who should flee, flee. Those who win become big according to the rules. As long as the cultural constitution is not violated, a coup is an ordinary change of government.


But because the position of the Thai king has such high importance in the government, there have to be frequent succession disputes to select the royal who is appropriate (whether for the benefit of the country or the benefit of the nobles) to ascend as king. Hence it can be said that the Thai monarchy as an institution is politically highly secure, but the individual holding the position may not be as secure as the institution because there may easily be a succession dispute to raise one of his own relatives to be king instead.


Even the attempt to establish a clear law of succession in the Fifth Reign did not give rise to a fixed and definite rule as intended. After the first Crown Price passed away, instead of keeping the succession in the line of the same queen, King Chulalongkorn decided straight away to change to another line,[17] even though some nobles and some members of the royal family dissented (according to what some senior people once said).


The Thai from olden times believe that the state must have a ruler but who that ruler should be is not so important except that he must be a royal or have a blood connection with a family which is royal.


Buddhism
None of Thailand’s written constitutions defines a national religion. Superficially this is as if Thailand is a completely “secular state,” especially in comparison with Indonesia, Pakistan, or Burma. But in reality Thailand has not passed through a process of decisively separating state and religion as in Europe.


Nevertheless, it is necessary to define first that the Thai “religious state” was different from the western one, and hence the process of making it secular ought to be different from the western process also.


Westerners think that power over humanity belongs to god. Hence government or the use of power in the world cannot be legitimate unless it is approved by god. But the Thai think that power is something natural. If there is no government wielding power, then a new government will appear to wield it. And power can be held without asking for the approval of anybody.[18] But a power holder can prove his legitimacy by nurturing Buddhism. One purpose of holding power hence is to promote and nurture Buddhism. It can be counted as one of the important purposes of government. The state thus arises for Buddhism. The ruler has the duty of defending Buddhism from being troubled by bad dogma. At the same time, he deploys royal power to create conditions for all the people to accumulate the king’s barami so he may progress through the cycle of rebirth to attain nirvana. This purpose can be seen clearly from the reigns of King Taksin and King Rama I onwards.[19]


The reform of government and religion in the Fifth Reign did not affect this important principle. The revolution of 1932 did not negate this principle either, although nothing was specified clearly in the constitution. Hence in the Thai cultural constitution, Buddhism has a status more special than other religions.


Even though the western way of thinking about a “secular state” was the model from which we copied the symbols of the new kind of “nation,” such as the national anthem, national flag, national language, and so on, the essence of the secular state was not absorbed into the political thinking of the Thai, and hence does not have much meaning for the Thai. For example, the white in the national flag is supposed to stand for religion, and white was probably chosen because it does not clearly indicate what religion (colors and shapes are related to religion in people’s thinking, for example, green and star for Islam, yellow and wheel for Buddhism, and so on). But not long after the tricolour flag came into use, someone created a separate flag for Buddhism which can always be seen at temples during religious festivals. That is the yellow flag with the wheel of the law in the center. It is often displayed together with the national flag.


Hence Buddhism is not just one of the religions which every citizen has freedom to choose, no different from others. Buddhism has a special status in the Thai state. Every written constitution lays down that the head of state must be a Buddhist. Almost all royal ceremonies, state ceremonies, and ceremonies arranged by government officials have some element of Buddhist ritual. The state encourages the spread of Buddhism both inside and outside the country using tax revenue collected from citizens who are Muslim, Christian, Hindu, and Sikh.


Thus it is not a genuine secular state like a state in western Europe (neither is it necessary to be so because we have not been through the same experience as them, but only taken their type of state as a principle to refer to, even though we are not the same). Whether or not it is written in the constitution, the Thai state is a Buddhist state. This does not mean that we have no prostitutes and drink no liquor, but it does mean that we give Buddhism a status more special than others. The Thai state is neutral between Christianity, Islam, or Hinduism but the Thai state is intentionally and demonstrably biased towards Buddhism.


Whether or not it is written in the constitution that Buddhism is the national religion, Buddhism is undeniably the Thai national religion, and this is openly inscribed in the cultural constitution.


Power and opposition
As a result of their historical experience, westerners think that power can be subdivided. For example, for many centuries in Europe, power was divided between rulers of the world and rulers of religion. There was always dispute over the boundary between worldly power and spiritual power, sometimes to the point of open enmity between king and pope. Thus in modern times, when westerners think about opposing power, they arrange for several independent powers to oppose one another.


But the Thai think that power is indivisible. Even worldly power and spiritual power are the same, because whoever is king holds the supreme power according to the strength of his own past deeds (kamma). When his merit is exhausted, spiritual power makes him quit the post of his own accord by some means or other. In the thinking of the Thai, worldly power and spiritual power are not two kinds of power but only one.


Moreover, although spiritual power is the greatest power, spiritual power cannot take concrete form as either an organization or individual because, if an individual or organization has supreme spiritual power (or in other words, the highest barami), then worldly power will also fall to that individual or organization automatically. Hence however much proficiency a monk has, he will always have less power than the king, because a monk has accumulated less barami than a king. If any monk were to have more, he could not remain a monk. In some way or another, he would become king eventually. The fact that a king is a king is proof that he has the supreme spiritual power, and hence has the supreme worldly power as well.


Even though the Thai think power is indivisible, yet this supreme indivisible power still has two constraints which are obstacles to the use of power for government. The Thai have always used these two constraints as shelter to escape from the supreme power of the rulers.


The first constraint is local leaders. There are many reasons why Thai rulers cannot completely repress local leaders. In olden times, the lack of a standing army, lack of communications, lack of a bureaucracy with a unified command, lack of public education controlled by the state, and so on, impeded the royal power in practice where local leaders were strong. However, the lack of the things mentioned above is only a secondary reason.


The real main reason is this. While in theory power is supreme and indivisible, in practice the king maintains power by dividing up the machinery of the state into little pieces which are fairly independent of one another, so that they cannot easily challenge the royal power. Thus although Thailand has had a bureaucracy for many centuries, the Thai bureaucracy is divided into little pieces which cannot coordinate for any purpose at all. Each piece seeks benefit from the duties entrusted to it by the king. In the past these pieces competed to control manpower. At present they compete to make laws which give themselves power to authorize this and that in order to demand a bribe.


The Thai bureaucracy from past to present has no ability to work in concert to truly increase the well-being of the people. But at the same time, it has no power to oppress the people systematically. Hence if Hitler or Stalin are taken as the standard for dictators, Thai dictators of every era are only clowns.


With an inefficient tool for government such as this, the rulers have to yield to influence (itthiphon).[20]


Yoshifumi Tamada explains the word influence in Thai politics in this way. Thai people perceive two kinds of power: the first is the power which is correct according to law and custom, which is called power (amnat); the second is the power that is not recognized by law or custom, but has force just like the first type of power. The Thai call this influence.[21]


Influence has existed in Thai society from olden times and is not something which comes into conflict with power. When power confronts influence, instead of suppressing influence to leave only power, power finds it lacks the necessary force. Instead it compromises with influence by incorporating it into power. For example, local bosses (nakleng) are elevated as leaders or nobles, or the family which has the supreme influence in an area is elevated as the local governor.


Modern administrative law copied from the west cannot compromise with influence so leaves influence alone outside the bureaucratic system. But in practice things are the same as before. That is, there is compromise between government officials and influence at all levels. The upcountry nobles get their free drinks and running expenses from local influence. The central nobles become directors of banks and golf courses and receive shares at par from national-level influence.


Influence has been an obstacle to state power from olden times. Influence is a constraint which the indivisible power of the Thai rulers must confront at all times. Whenever people are in trouble, they can either run to the rightful power of the state or seek the protection of the influence with which power has to compromise, depending on how that particular trouble should be dealt with. In modern western terms, the governing power in Thailand faces the “opposition” of influence.


Another constraint on power in Thailand is morality, or stated clearly, the manifestation of morality.


To retain power, the Thai monarch must demonstrate the ten royal virtues and carry out the imperial duties. What these two things are, Thai people in general do not know. But they are pleased if the monarch shows a high degree of compassion, is just, not indulgent, and moral. Learned men in the early Rattanakosin court condemned the kings of the Ban Phlu Luang dynasty[22] for immoral behaviour such as killing animals, sexual licence, drunkenness, and so on.


In any culture, it’s instructive to observe what is selected to condemn a king in history. In the Thai case, the five Buddhist precepts are chosen as the criteria. It is important for Thai rulers to manifest their morality. Failure to do so leads to lack of acceptance from the general population and invites other groups to challenge for power.


The manifestation of morality is not limited to the performance of public duties. The Thai do not distinguish between public duties and private practice. They consider them the same. Hence even in private life, rulers must manifest morality and integrity. One minister of interior had to resign because an MP said in parliament that he often took girls to cuddle in hotels.


Apart from their duties, rulers must also explain that they decide on policies for moral reasons, that is, clearly not in violation of moral principles. For example, for a long time there has been a call to abolish the law on prostitution and decriminalize it, but opponents always raise reasons of morality and reputation. They claim abolition would amount to supporting immoral actions and shamefully sacrificing the country’s reputation. But these opponents don’t care much about the fact that Thailand has almost a million prostitutes. It’s the same with the legalization of abortion, which has been opposed on grounds of morality, even while it’s easy as anything in Thailand to get an abortion or “induced menstruation,” both safe and unsafe.


So it should be reiterated that the “morality” which is important in opposing the power of Thai rulers does not make the Thai rulers become moral people, or make the public policies of the Thai rulers rich in morality. Rather, external manifestation of morality has much more importance than content. To put it simply, at present if you want a minor wife then go ahead but don’t create a scandal.


Nevertheless, even the external manifestation of morality is a force to constrain the power of the rulers to some extent.


To sum up, Thai rulers are cramped by two kinds of constraint on power, first, local bosses, and second, the external manifestation of morality.


Both constraints are sacred institutions which are inscribed in the Thai cultural constitution. Although nobody can tear up and throw away the provisions in this constitution, those who seize state power always suppress the bosses who are not part of their gang and build up their own network of bosses in their place. At the same time, the group which has seized power condemns its rivals as lacking in morality, even though the new group behaves no differently.


Influence and immoral actions disguised behind a moral façade are not something that Thai people dislike. Bosses in fact can help provide protection for us. Immoral actions disguised behind a moral façade are better than denigrating and violating the moral law without a care. In any case, power is like fire: close up, it’s hot; far away, it’s cool; anything which can offer some opposition to the power of fire is already good.


Military
The military is one form of influence (that is, power not recognised by law or custom), but this does not mean the military has no power (that is, power recognised by law and custom). The military does have power, but under any system of government other than military dictatorship, it is only a little power. The military always has only a small portion of power because whatever it does depends on decisions taken by others, whether a king, prime minister, or dictator.


Thailand has only had a standing army since the Fifth Reign (today’s army likes to celebrate military victories before this time, but really these are victories by a totally different army – victories by the Thai king leading the peasants out to fight). Not long after there was a standing army, it started to become unhappy with the little power it had. In the Sixth Reign, the army was unhappy that the king spared only a small part of the budget for the army. Some parts of the army even tried to overthrow the absolute monarchy, but without success.[23] Relations between the military and King Rama VI were not good throughout the reign.


The military began to expand its power through influence both in the lower ranks and at the Cabinet level. It’s notable also that newspaper articles at that time tended to cheer the military. Newspapers published by the military such as Senasuksa commanded an audience wider than the military circle. This amounted to increasing the influence of the military in Thai society in general.


But it is not at all surprising that people (at least in Bangkok) cheered the influence of the military. In the view of the Thai, influence is necessary to constrain power. What is more, the military has influence unlike other types of influence because it is not limited within a specific boundary. The military has a position within the bureaucracy, so it is both power and a tool of power. But the military itself does not have that much power. Thus it finds it difficult to be a danger to anybody. The military only has influence on which people in general can depend, or with which they can build an individual relationship more easily than with power. Hence there was no influence better than the military to limit the rapidly expanding power of the rulers in the new bureaucracy and the absolute monarchy.


Thus on 24 June 1932, the military was the main factor in the overthrow of the absolute monarchy. With the world situation offering no obstruction, the military became the biggest influence in Thailand, even though under the law and custom of democratic government, the military still had only a little power, as before.


Most Thai welcome the influence of the military and make use of that influence as fully as possible. Individuals run to the military to use its influence to coerce the power of the ever-corrupt civilian bureaucracy to follow their bidding or to be corrupt in a way which benefits them. Groups appeal to the regional army commander to press the interior ministry or police department to transfer officials they don’t like out of their area.


This does not mean that the military is an influence which is pure. When someone has influence (which is power not recognised by law and hence power which cannot be monitored or constrained, except by employing another influence), where would that influence not be used for private benefit? But the Thai don’t mind this. Using influence for some private benefit is not a problem. Any godfather would do that, but might ask for military protection in cases where that is necessary.


However, it must be admitted that the Thai have used the military to defend themselves against constant bullying by other parts of the bureaucracy or by criminals who always threaten them. Even though this is not effective every time, it is still better than not having any influence to obstruct the power which they cannot control themselves (don’t forget also that the supreme power in Thai thinking is indivisible, and so in truth Thai may not think about controlling power through legal processes and citizens’ rights, but rather think of using influence to control power).


Straight out it can be said, the Thai love the military more than all other officials, because they don’t see the military as rulers, but rather as elder brothers who help to protect them from the rulers. But this love lasts only as long as the military have only influence and not power, that is, they do not themselves become the rulers. When they become rulers and have power, the military have to become united with the civilian bureaucracy, the usual rulers, because they have to use the civilian officials as tools of their power or rule. At that point the military can no longer be relied on as an escape from power. Worse than that, although as a result of making a coup or suppressing insurgency the military become the rulers and have power, the military still has influence as before. But when influence supplements power, it increases the power of the rulers to the point that it is difficult to control. The Thai cultural constitution thus opposes the military having power. Whenever the military controls the power of the state, the Thai people’s appreciation of the military is reduced. Conversely, when the military does not control the power of the state, the army recovers the people’s favor. It can drag its enemies along to “cooperate in the development of the Thai nation,” not disclose some parts of the budget to the assembly, impound a government mobile radio station[24] – and people joke about these matters rather than thinking anything of them, because all of that is just using influence.


The Thai cultural constitution likes the military to have influence, but does not like it to have power.


MPs
MPs are most like the military, that is, MPs are not rulers and even their duty to legislate is not so important. In the cultural constitution, MPs have almost no power at all. They cannot even appoint a village head (kamnan). But MPs have influence so even provincial governors respect them. Thus MPs are an influence on which citizens can depend to negotiate with the rulers.


The Thai don’t think of giving MPs any more power. They like to see MPs as puny (krajok) in this way, but it’s good if MPs have a lot of influence. Hence government MPs are better than opposition MPs, as those in government are expected to have more influence; for instance, they can even get a governor transferred.


The duty of MPs in the cultural constitution is to negotiate with officials on behalf of the people and to use influence to defend and protect citizens from the rulers they dislike. The part about raising their hands to pass this law and that legislation is fine because it gives them more influence, but has nothing directly to do with the MPs’ duty. It doesn’t matter if they go to sleep or go absent from the Assembly.


Whatever it says in the written constitution, this is the duty of MPs according to the expectation of the Thai in the cultural constitution. So MPs find that having and using influence is the main duty of being an MP. This influence can be used both for others and for themselves and their clique. MPs use influence in both ways intertwined – for others to gain the popularity to be re-elected, and simultaneously for themselves and their clique for personal benefit to create the economic foundation for re-election. It is not possible to be a person of influence in Thailand without having a pocketful of money to spread around.


Each MP has more influence than each military man, but MPs as a group have less influence than the army as a whole. In this respect, an MP has an advantage over a military man in that one MP has the supreme influence. But combining together as a group or as a party does not increase the MPs’ influence so much. While each soldier has limited influence, the military uses its influence to the full only when it is consistent with the policy of the military or of the commanding officer. An MP can be a patron (thi pung) more easily than a soldier. If an MP agrees to provide help (whether by saying something or by giving money), then the MP can use his influence straight away.


Moreover, because an MP has been elected, ordinary people feel it is easier to approach him than a soldier or a local godfather. So MPs are an influence which has importance in the cultural constitution. Whatever happens, the people who are not rulers must have MPs as an influence which they elect themselves for a fixed period, as a guarantee that the people can have easy access to them.


Other influences in Thailand, even though they are not disliked, are not influences which the Thai people created. Some influences create themselves and some are created by others, but only MPs are an influence which the citizens can confer on anybody they choose. Elections thus cannot be left out of the cultural constitution, because they guarantee that the influence which the citizens create will be of some benefit to themselves. The practice of those standing for election as MPs to bow and scrape, distribute little fishes (pla thu), hand out money for votes, and so on, is a practice which is very satisfactory for the people, because it helps to confirm that the citizens will get some benefit from this influence in the future because they have some control over it.


In truth, vote-buying (or doing anything which is not plain ballot-stuffing) is confirmation of the “sovereignty” of the Thai people according to the cultural constitution.


Law
Influence is a force which is difficult to oppose, because influence does not derive from law. Influence is thus a frightening force along with being a useful force. The Thai have two ways to counter influence: first, by using another, bigger influence to counter an influence which is dangerous to them; second, by looking to power to counter influence.


The first method to counter influence worked well in the past because various influences were not tightly coordinated. It was not difficult to get an RPG or M16 to cut down a godfather. Even army commanders in the provincial centers might use their influence to quell local influences. But recently in some localities, economic expansion has made influences at various levels cooperate together. The influence of some godfathers has expanded very widely to cover almost a whole region. In some localities the regular local influences cooperate to share benefits among themselves peacefully. This makes it difficult to bring in one influence to counter another.


Even worse, the influence in several localities cooperates to share benefits with the influence which is concealed inside power. One clear example is that influence strengthens some groups of politicians to the point where influence has connections with ministers. This makes the influence of officials or the holders of power become one element of the influence of the godfathers.


But don’t take only the example of politicians, because that is unjust. A large number of regular officials, both military and civilian, reap benefits in collaboration with influence and use the influence concealed in their own power to buy up land, invest in tourism, or make profit from opening casinos, for example. In such cases, countering influence is difficult. For this reason, the Thai more and more turn to counter influence with the second method, that is, by bringing in power.


It has been mentioned several times already that power is based on law and custom. The Thai dislike power because it regularly causes them trouble, yet they know the nation must have power because without it there would be no force to counter influence. For this reason the Thai support both power and influence to coexist and counter one another.


The Thai believe in the sacredness of law because law is the basis of power. They don’t like anyone simply tearing up and destroying laws (other than the constitution). But because at the same time they believe in the importance of influence, they don’t care so much if law is often violated. They only require that everyone display adequate respect for the law. This is because as long as law exists, the Thai can fight influence that oppresses them too much by appealing to the authority of law to suppress influence.


The sort of laws which appear in the civil and criminal codes, civil procedure, criminal procedure, royal decrees, ministerial orders, departmental regulations, and so on, are thus highly secure in Thailand. Anyone with influence may tear up the constitution, but cannot touch the law, except by going through the correct rituals, such as arranging first for one’s clique and stooges to be members of the legislature and then gradually amending the law.


Coup-makers in Thailand are lawyers by instinct. They can trample on the constitution in full view of others, but a tiny law about collecting an irrigation fee of 10 baht must be followed correctly with all its complicated and difficult procedure according to the proper ritual. Coup-makers know well that law is something very important for the Thai, because law makes the force of power totally secure. Even though power often oppresses and troubles people, without any power at all, influence would get totally carried away and cause no less oppression and trouble than power.


The Thai may not believe in the rule of law[25] like westerners, but they believe in the persistence of law.[26] The cultural constitution lays down that the various laws will persist very securely.


The persistence of law is proven not only on paper. The important part of law which must persist in the view of the Thai is the power of the judiciary. In the Thai ideal, the power of the judiciary is the power which is purest, that is, free of any concealed influence at all. In the view of the Thai, judges are clean and pure people, the only ones in the whole judicial process. This belief reassures the Thai that power truly has the force to counter influence. If the judicial process can be made to work so that a case appears in court, influence will be overridden or its evil lessened by the pure power of judges.


But it should be understood that the Thai don’t hope to rely on the courts in every instance of dispute. Quite the opposite, in Thai culture and usage there are many ways to settle a dispute. In truth, bringing a dispute to court is only one part of the negotiation to settle it. The Thai do not perceive the courts as the ultimate recourse in resolving disputes (as lawyers think they should be). For example, suing to stop the construction of a condo next to one’s house is not done to stop the construction but to negotiate the compensation for making one’s house subside. When the money is secure, the case is dropped.[27]


Once this is understood, it can be seen more clearly how the law and judiciary are an important part of the game. The cultural constitution thus lays down that law and judiciary are “sacred” things which coup-makers cannot easily touch.


It’s already been said that the current economic expansion makes influences cooperate together more. Thus the opening to counter one influence by using another influence is narrowing. This is probably the reason why the Thai must increasingly use the second way of countering influence. Hence the Thai seem to pay more attention to changing laws after a coup, because currently the provisions of the law have more real impact on their lives than before.


It’s notable as well that there are two trends in the way government is changing laws and regulations at the present time. First, it is creating more guarantees for certain people’s rights (such as the right to call a lawyer when undergoing police questioning, tighter regulation of imprisonment, and so on). As relations with power are unavoidable, law must constrain the influence of power so it is safe to approach.


The second trend in changing laws and regulations is to increase the number of provisions imposing duties power must perform, such as setting a definite time limit to complete something after a petition is received, or beginning to impose constraints on bureaucrats’ decision-making. That is, if something is not approved, there must be clarification about what rule stood in the way, and the disadvantaged party may appeal to the courts. There is even an idea to have an administrative court to lessen the rulers’ power to adjudicate by facilitating more scrutiny.


This second direction of legal change is an attempt to monitor power because it is known that using influence to counter power as in the past is becoming more difficult, and hence it’s necessary to deal with power through law to guarantee one’s safety. If this trend continues, it’s possible that in the future the Thai cultural constitution will give rise to the rule of law more than the persistence of law.


This subtle change in the cultural constitution reflects the struggle of the Thai people amid the power and influence it cannot control, cannot monitor, and is constantly oppressed by. It should be said that this is a struggle which is profoundly clever and is the true wisdom of Thai society.


Amending the Cultural Constitution


All these are just examples of some institutions whose existence, powers, duties, and relations with other institutions are laid down in the cultural constitution.


Even though the cultural constitution cannot be torn up, it changes all the time. The above provisions must change in the future, in the same way that past provisions have been changed in the present. One change in the Thai cultural constitution will be mentioned here as an example.


In the cultural constitution in the past, it was never inscribed that people are equal. Quite the opposite, people were unequal for two reasons: first, birth; and second, the status granted to people by the king. This inequality is clearly seen in the Three Seals Law,[28] the law drawn up to accord with the Thai cultural constitution in olden times.


But many aspects of social change have made equality more significant in the present cultural constitution. High or low birth has almost ceased to have any meaning. People can no longer cite birth to maintain any power or influence (except the monarchy which is secure in the present cultural constitution). Only royal-granted status (or positions in the government) conveys power in hierarchical order but does not create any special “rights” for individuals.


The point worth noting is that power does not create any differentiation of rights, because power originates from law and so can be closely monitored. When a big military officer gives permission to a private company (with which he may have some kind of connection) to use a government helicopter to fly to inspect the land used for a golf course,[29] people all over criticize it, even though it happened under a coup government. This is because holding a high post in the military does not give rise to rights of this kind.


Conversely, influence gives rise to a great variety of “rights,” and the Thai accept the variety of rights which arise from different kinds of influence. Someone with influence has many privileges of various kinds – bidding for distilleries under advantageous conditions, bidding for government work under conditions which disadvantage the government, staking out degraded forest land to make resorts, jumping the queue at government hospitals, starting a private airline, and so on.


The principle of equality which is beginning to appear more clearly in the cultural constitution is a different principle from that in western constitutions, because the origin and the thinking behind it are different. Equality for the Thai is the equality of the market. That is, money gives rise to equal buying power. The poor get an increase in “respect” through the down-payment system. The Thai are not so jealous of people driving Benzes because they think if they were equally rich they would have the same right to drive a Benz. The Benz thus does not confer status in the way that a litter or sedan chair did because the right to use those did not arise from having money.


Do you remember the credit card ad, “how much for this whole shop?”[30] It delights the Thai very much, because it is right on the Thai principle of equality in the cultural constitution.


All people are born equal. Gender, birth, status, skin color, religion make no difference; but money in the pocket does.


For what reasons does the cultural constitution change?
The easiest answer is that when culture changes, the cultural constitution changes. But how the constitution changes, and how it relates to change in culture, is a matter of great complexity which this writer cannot talk about without adequate thought.


So there can be no more suitable point to end this article.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[1] “Rattthamanun chabap watthanatham thai” first appeared in Sinlapa watthanatham 11, no. 1, November 1991; and was reprinted in Nidhi Eoseewong, Chat thai, muang thai, baeprian lae anusawari (Thai nation, Thailand, school texts, and monuments) (Bangkok: Matichon Press, 1995).

[2] Thongchai Winichakul, “Chat thai, muang thai lae nithi iyosriwong” (Thai nation, Thailand and Nidhi Eoseewong), introduction to the collection cited in note 1, 29–33.

[3] The translation of this clause is taken from the official translation of the 1997 constitution, section 8.

[4] A place on the Maekhong river at the northern tip of modern Thailand. It is believed to be the site of an early political center mentioned in several legendary accounts.

[5] Mangrai (possibly 1238–1318) founded Chiang Mai in 1296, and his descendants ruled Lanna until 1558.

[6] Kavila (1742–1816) re-established Chiang Mai in 1775. After several attacks on the Burmese-held outpost in Chiang Saen, he took the town on 11 June 1804 and carried all its inhabitants away to Chiang Mai.

[7] Written in English in the original.

[8] Chuang Bunnag, Chaophraya Borommaha Srisuriyawong, was Regent when King Chulalongkorn succeeded at age 15 in 1868. Chuang headed the Bunnag clan which dominated the bureaucracy at the time. Some historians have accused him of manipulating the succession of a minor in the hope of dominating or even supplanting Chulalongkorn.

[9] A legend about the establishment of Yonok, a polity believed to be around Chiang Saen, some time prior to the late thirteenth century.

[10] The foundation legend of the Lao of Luang Prabang.

[11] Jiraprapha became ruler of Chiang Mai briefly in 1545.

[12] Kavila is credited with regaining Lanna’s independence from the Burmese in 1775, and his successors ruled in Chiang Mai until it was absorbed by Bangkok in the late nineteenth century. Thipchang (sometimes Thipchak), Kavila’s grandfather, had played a role in an earlier revolt in Lampang and Lamphun in the 1730s.

[13] Prasat Thong (r. 1629–36) usurped the throne of Ayutthaya by coup. Sukhothai had ceased to be a major political center, but its ruling family had intermarried with the Ayutthaya dynasty and continued to be a source of royal legitimacy.

[14] Phetracha (r. 1688–1703) usurped the throne from Narai (r. 1656–88) by coup. The chronicles written after the 1767 Burmese sack of Ayutthaya seek to attribute the sack to the failings of the Ban Phlu Luang dynasty begun by Phetracha. Hence they portray him as an uncouth upstart. Nidhi has written a study (Kanmuang thai samai phranarai, Politics in the era of King Narai) which uses writings by the French in Ayutthaya (especially de Bèze) to show that Phetracha had some royal connections and strong aristocratic support.

[15] Taksin re-established a capital after the 1767 sack. He was dislodged by a coup in 1782 which installed his former leading general as Rama I. Neither Taksin nor Rama I had any royal blood connection.

[16] Trailokanath (r. 1448-?) is credited with a major change in Ayutthaya’s government in the second half of the fifteenth century.

[17] In 1886, King Chulalongkorn (Rama V, r. 1868–1910) established a new system of succession based roughly on primogeniture, and selected Vajirunhis, his eldest son by Savang Vadhana, one of his three official queens, as the first Crown Prince. Vajirunhis died in January 1895. Instead of selecting another son by the same queen, Chulalongkorn chose Vajiravudh, his eldest son by Queen Saowapha. Vajiravudh succeeded as King Rama VI (r. 1910–25).

[18] Nidhi’s note: This idea comes from Benedict R. O’G. Anderson, “The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture,” in Language and Power, 1990, 19–23.

[19] Nidhi’s note: See Nidhi Eoseewong, Prawatisat rattanakosin nai phraratchaphongsawadan ayutthaya (The history of Rattanakosin in the royal chronicles of Ayutthaya,), 1980, 50–69.

[20] From this point, Nidhi uses the words itthiphon and amnat in quotation marks to denote a special meaning. I have rendered this through italics rather than quotation marks.

[21] Nidhi’s note: See Yoshifumi Tamada, “Itthiphon and amnat: An informal aspect of Thai politics,” in Southeast Asian Studies, Kyoto University, 1991/3.

[22] The dynasty which ruled Ayutthaya from 1688 to 1767. The chronicles written in the early Rattanakosin period blame this dynasty for the sack of Ayutthaya by the Burmese in 1767.

[23] In February 1912, authorities uncovered a coup plotted by about one hundred junior army officers. One of their grievances was that King Vajiravudh had founded the Sua pa or Wild Tiger Corps as a separate force under his direct personal control.

[24] In 1990, Minister of the Prime Minister’s Office Chalerm Yubamruang locked horns with the military. He stationed a government mobile radio station to intercept military communications. The army seized the vehicle and presented it to the king. Army head Suchinda Kraprayoon warned Chalerm, “he might have no land to live on” (Bangkok Post, 10 November 1990). Three months later, Suchinda led a coup and Chalerm fled the country.

[25] Written in English and followed by a Thai translation.

[26] Written in English and followed by a Thai translation.

[27] Nidhi’s footnote: See David M. Engel, Code and Custom in a Thai Provincial Court, 1978. The writer of this book told the writer of this article that he had recently returned to America to do similar research in a small community, and found that American people use the courts just like the Thai, that is, as only one part of negotiating to overcome disputes. He thinks that people anywhere in all cultures have many other ways to overcome disputes. Law has a small role in overcoming social conflict.

[28] A collection of Ayutthaya-period laws assembled in 1805.

[29] In June 1991, under the coup-installed government of the NPKC, newspapers published a picture of Jack Nicklaus descending from a military helicopter to inspect a golf course he had designed. The course had encroached on Khao Yai national park, and the developer (Golden Valley Co.) had illegally blasted away an inconvenient slab of rock.

[30] In this ad for the Diners Club credit card, a young man enters a luxury shop and is treated with obvious contempt by the saleslady who expects he has no money. He reacts with this line.
From http://kyotoreview.cseas.kyoto-u.ac.jp/

Problems in Contemporary Thai Nationalist Historiography


Problems in Contemporary Thai Nationalist Historiography

Patrick Jory


There are certain periods when historical discourses and their politics – who controls them, the mode by which they are disseminated, how competing histories are suppressed – become central to intellectual or public debate. In Thailand it has been some time since history provoked that kind of interest. Nationalist historiography appears to have achieved a position of hegemony that would be remarkable were it not for the fact that it apparently arouses little opposition. How secure, then, is this political and scholarly enterprise a hundred years after it was founded?



This article briefly outlines a number of problems for contemporary Thai nationalist historiography. The first of these is the subject of these narratives itself, the Thai nation. How has the historiography of the Thai nation fared, particularly since the critique of the concept of “nation” in the 1980s provoked by works such as Anderson’s Imagined Communities and Hobsbawm and Ranger’s The Invention of Tradition? Second, what is the role of the monarchy in these narratives? How does the monarchy’s current political and cultural influence limit the possibilities of Thai historiography? A third problem has been the representation of ethnic and regional minorities, which has challenged the previously unproblematic understanding of a unified, culturally homogeneous nation. A new issue that has appeared since the Thailand’s economic expansion of the 1990s is the effect of Thai nationalist historiography – as represented in TV dramas and movies, as well as in school texts – on relations with Thailand’s neighbors, which have led to diplomatic tensions. The next problem, for the moment, concerns mainly the professional historians of the academy: the influence of postmodern theory since the 1990s and its undermining of history’s truth claims. If Thai history is simply one story among countless others with no superior claim to authority over the past, how does it deserve its privileged status? Finally, there is the issue of professional history’s current state of near irrelevance to the way history is popularly perceived.


Formulations of the Nation



In the mid-1980s Nidhi Eoseewong, the dominant figure in Thai historical scholarship over the last twenty years, published a paper titled “Two Hundred Years of Thai History and Future Directions,” which proposed a model for periodizing the production of Thai historiography (Nidhi 2002a). According to Nidhi, Thai historical scholarship can be divided into three distinct periods, each of which is defined by an “identity crisis” experienced by the Thai ruling elite. The first is the Thonburi-early Ratanakosin (“Bangkok”) period of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries following the fall of the kingdom of Ayuthaya to the Burmese in 1767. This catastrophic event provoked Thai intellectuals to pose questions about the weakness of the Ayuthaya state, its system of administration, and even Thai cultural “values” and sense of “identity” which may have contributed to its downfall (2002a, 6). The answers to many of these questions were to be found in history, and for this reason there was an outpouring of historical work produced by scholars within and around the Thai court during that period. But with the stabilization of the Thai state under the early Chakri kings, this surge of interest in history gradually faded.


A second “identity crisis” occurred in the aftermath of the Pak Nam crisis of 1893, when the French seized the left bank of the Mekong River and threatened the Thai state with full-scale colonization. The Thai elite was once again forced to reassess itself and explain the weaknesses that had led to this disaster. It implemented massive reforms to the kingdom’s system of provincial administration and underwent a no less massive cultural revolution in attempting to imitate the standards of “civilization” demanded by the European colonial powers to avoid being branded “barbarians.” This era saw the birth of modern Thai historiography, much of it penned by or published on the authority of the “Father of Thai History,” King Chulalongkorn’s younger brother Prince Damrong Rachanubhab. However, with the passing of the colonial threat, the Great Powers’ acceptance of an independent “Siam” into the colonial order of inter-state relations, and the subsiding sense of “identity crisis” rising from the growing familiarity of the Thai elite with western culture through western education and visits to Europe, the flood of original historical scholarship of the Fifth and Sixth Reigns began to slow. Even after the overthrow of the Absolute Monarchy in 1932 there was no radical questioning of the Thai past. Indeed, there was a new interest in western history (2002a, 23).


The third and latest period of Thai historiography, according to Nidhi, followed Sarit’s coup of 1957 and the ensuing “American Era” (Anderson and Mendiones 1985). This was the era of capitalist economic development based on the advice of western economic advisers, the outbreak of a communist insurgency in Thailand and government’s alignment with the United States, the escalation of the Vietnam War and establishment of U.S. military bases, and the flood of American popular culture into Thailand. At the same time, Thai students in numbers greater than ever before were funded to study at American universities. All this led to a new identity crisis for the Thai upper class, which once again asked, “who are we, and who shall we be in the future?” (Nidhi 2002a, 27). This third crisis ushered in a new era of historical scholarship which questioned existing historical knowledge – works such as Jit Phumisak’s Marxist reworking of Thai history (2000), the re-reading of ancient inscriptions (Prasert Na Nakhon 1982), original work in prehistory (Srisak Vallibhodom 1981), the beginnings of the history of ethnic minorities, and general interest in the problem of “Thai identity.” As in the two earlier phases, and for much the same reasons, this latest surge of interest in history and the production of original historical work began to wane in the 1980s. With the defeat of the communist insurgency (hastened by the end of the Cold War) and a rapidly developing economy by late in the decade, the Thai state had achieved a position of greater security than at any time since the colonial threat at the turn of the nineteenth century. Growing familiarity with western culture and greater “cultural self-confidence” also helped relieve the identity crisis created by confrontation with western (particularly American) culture in the 1960s. A clear indicator of the declining interest in history was the dramatic fall of enrolments in history departments in universities around the country. (2002a, 35-6).


Thus for Nidhi, Thai historiography as it has been produced over the last two centuries originates out of a desire on the part of the Thai elite to define a Thai self that is periodically threatened by outsiders.


If the “Thai nation” is a relatively unproblematic concept in this study, it becomes more problematized in Nidhi’s work from the 1990s, where, for example, he looks at the role of the state in promoting Thai nationalism through primary school textbooks (citing Anderson’s Imagined Communities) (Nidhi 1995b, 47) or the construction of monuments. Later articles for the news weekly Matichon Sutsapda also criticize conceptions of the Thai nation devised by the state (Nidhi 2002b). Yet Nidhi’s consistent theme is not that the Thai nation is an empty “construction,” but rather that its definition has been too narrow and that it ought to be fully representative, in particular of “ordinary” Thai men and women.


The other figure who has had a major impact on the history of Thai nationalism is Thongchai Winichakul. Unlike Nidhi, Thongchai writes and publishes in both English and Thai, and for this reason he is better known outside the Thai scholarly community. His influential Siam Mapped (1994), which is also inspired by Anderson’s work, focuses on the construction in the late nineteenth century of a territorial conception of the Thai nation, what he terms the “geo-body.” In this and other works Thongchai’s approach is far more critical of the concept of the Thai nation than Nidhi’s. This derives in part from his direct involvement in one of the key events of modern Thai political history, the massacre of students by security forces and village militias at Thammasat University on 6 October 1976. Thongchai’s critique of the Thai nation is thus not simply a disinterested exercise in academic analysis, but at least partly a dialogue with 1976 – the Thai “nation” has blood on its hands.


In contrast to its status in public discourse, the nation in Thai historiography is not an overbearing, oppressive, or untouchable presence. Saichon’s recent study of the concept of the Thai nation and Thai identity in the work of the chief ideologue of the Phibun era, Luang Wichit Wathakan, is yet another work that attacks these notions, or at least the manner in which they have been defined and disseminated by the Thai state (Saichon 2002). Within the community of Thai historians, therefore, the nation can be criticized, challenged, ignored, redefined, or deconstructed out of existence, with little controversy.


The same can not, of course, be said of the dominant element in current formulations of the nation, the monarchy. The monarchy’s overwhelming political and cultural presence (Jory 2001) in the Thai polity today limits what can be said about a number of key historical events, among them the overthrow of the Absolute Monarchy in 1932, the death of Rama VIII, the present king’s elder brother, in 1946, and the massacre of students at Thammasat University in 1976. These events will have to await a future era in historical scholarship for any radically new interpretation to be expressed publicly.


However, the main problem in Thai historiography is not so much what cannot be said, but that which is said. This is the basis of Thongchai’s critique of what he terms “royalist-nationalist history” (prawatisat baep rachachatniyom). For Thongchai, this is the ideology which currently dominates historical thinking in Thailand and which leaves no space in the national narrative for what should be central episodes, such as the 6 October 1976 massacre (Thongchai 2001). Thongchai’s genealogy of this mode of Thai historiography is somewhat different from that of Nidhi. Thongchai locates the origins of “royalist-nationalist history” in the Pak Nam crisis of 1893. The central theme of the new historical genre that developed after this event was the defense of “Siam’s” independence against foreigners (especially the western powers or the Burmese). The heros of the new genre are the kings, not on account of their membership of an illustrious lineage or their supernatural powers, as in the old royal chronicles, but for their role in safeguarding (or winning back, in the case of King Naresuan) Siam’s independence. But rather than seeing in the 1893 incident the Siamese “lamb” being terrorized by the French “wolf” leading to the “loss” of part of “Thailand,” Thongchai provocatively argues that the incident should be interpreted as the “big wolf” of France and the “small wolf” of Siam fighting over the “lambs” of Lao and Cambodian territories (Thongchai 2001, 59). As he demonstrated earlier in Siam Mapped (1994), Thai nationalist historiography has represented this incident by projecting modern notions of “nation” and “national territorial sovereignty” onto a situation in which state relations existed on the basis of feudal tribute and overlordship arrangements between otherwise “autonomous” polities. The success of royalist-nationalist historiography has been such that the representation of this event by the Bangkok aristocrats and nobility at the turn of the century has become a central myth of the Thai nation. While Prince Damrong and other members of the Thai court in the Fifth and Sixth Reigns gave birth to this new historiographical genre, it was ironically the monarchy’s enemies, the promoters of the 1932 coup, who ensured the victory of this genre over all others by its dissemination in barely altered form to the Thai population through the compulsory education system and state media. The outcome has been a greater dominance of royalist-nationalist historiography than could have been imagined in the era of the Absolute Monarchy (Thongchai 2001, 62).


While one might have expected this dominant historical narrative to have been shaken by the democratic uprising of 14 October 1973, Thongchai points out an irony of Thai history that 1973 “liberated” the dormant energies not only of “the people,” but also of the monarchy, which has subsequently enjoyed its greatest levels of popularity since the death of Chulalongkorn in 1910. Royalist-nationalist historiography thus became democratized. Its practitioners were no longer the aristocracy, but a new breed of bourgeois academics critical of the military regime. Yet a further irony is that within the plot of royalist-nationalist historiography, the instigators of the 1932 coup against the Absolute Monarchy, the Peoples Party, have now acquired the dubious reputation of being the originators of military authoritarian rule. In perhaps the supreme irony, Rama VII, the last absolutist ruler in Thai history, has become the officially recognized “Father of Thai Democracy”! Pridi Phanomyong, the leading intellectual within the coup group, has been rehabilitated to a certain extent, but shorn of his socialist ideals and with his loyalty to the throne intact (Thongchai 2001, 62-3).


For Thongchai, then, “royalist-nationalist historiography” is the strait-jacket which restrains any attempt to present a revisionist interpretation of Thai history. But more than this, although the point is understated for reasons mentioned above, this version of history is directly implicated in the massacre of October 1976.


If the monarchy is an ongoing constraint on the possibilities of Thai national historiography, it might be thought that the obstacles to a representation of a more regionally and ethnically diverse nation have been coming down in recent years. For a long time, Bangkok-centric discourses of Thai national identity determined the representation of the country’s regional and ethnic diversity. But with the improved national security situation of the 1990s following the end of the Cold War, Thailand’s “diversity” (khwam lak lai) has acquired a more positive value and has finally been embraced by the state itself – up to a point. The major impetus to this change was the middle-class “uprising” of 1992 that led to the democratization of the Thai political regime and the acceptance of the legitimacy of political pluralism. The corresponding erosion of the bureaucratic polity and the increased significance of the National Assembly and elected politicians have given increased political representation to regional groups. Use of regional dialects and appeals to local cultural identity, once viewed as threats to national security, are now the normal stuff of political campaigning. The new 1997 Constitution provides numerous formal protections for cultural minorities. The tourism industry, strategically important to Thailand’s economic development given its capacity to attract foreign exchange with minimal capital investment, promotes ethnic and cultural diversity as a key “resource” for the industry’s further development. Perhaps most important of all, since the bourgeois revolution and the development of consumerism beyond Bangkok, Thailand’s population is being conceptualized as a mass of culturally, linguistically, ethnically diverse markets. Companies and their advertisers will speak the language of whatever market they wish to target, thereby lending new legitimacy to such diversity, but within the parameters of the free market economy and the demands of consumerism.


The modern historiography of Thailand’s cultural minorities dates from at least the 1960s, but has greatly expanded since the 1980s and 1990s in the more liberal political environment. However, as Thongchai has pointed out (1995), for the most part this historiography rarely departs from the framework created by nationalist historiography from the centre. Indeed it could be argued that “local history” (prawatisat thongthin), as it is known, if anything affirms the truths of nationalist history rather than challenging them. The fact that Chiang Mai or Nakhon Sri Thammarat can claim to have existed as independent “Thai” states prior to Sukhothai, the first officially recognized state in the national narrative, is no longer controversial because Thai sovereignty over these regions has not been in question since the colonial period. However, the case of Patani is the clear exception. The historiography of the state of Patani written by local historians in both Malay and Thai are linked in spirit (if not directly politically) to the separatist movements that have sought to free Patani from Thai political control since its integration into the Thai state during the Fifth Reign and the deposition and imprisonment of its last sultan, Abdul Kedir. Davisakd has described the on-going struggle between Thai centralist and Patani local historians for discursive control of Patani’s past, which relates directly to the question of Patani’s sovereignty (Davisakd 2002a).


The expansion of tertiary education into the provinces from the 1960s and the changed political atmosphere and value surrounding cultural diversity has led to more research being conducted into ethnic and regional groups. Yet these studies have their own regulations regarding what can and cannot be said. In 2000 Arkhom Detthongkham from Nakhon Sri Thammarat’s Ratchabhat College published an ethnographic study of the culture of bull-fighting in southern Thailand. The study is a model of what local studies should be, capturing the “flavor” of the aggressive masculine culture of the south through the metaphor of the bull-fight (Arkhom 2000). The research was picked up by the national media – this was a time when the southern-dominated Democrats Party was in government – and within days Arkhom was forced into hiding following threats by local influential figures against what was interpreted as the study’s denigration of southern Thai culture. Here it is not the state, the traditional villain, but local politicians with otherwise prominent roles in the narrative of democratization and decentralization of the 1980s and 1990s who are setting the limits to intellectual freedom.


In other cases, local histories which seek to go beyond a centrist, statist-oriented version of Thai history highlight the role of the state in unexpected ways. In 1995 Matichon Group published a master’s thesis written by Saipin Kaewngamprasert on “Thao Suranari,” said to be the heroine who helped suppress a Lao “revolt” in Nakhon Ratchasima (Khorat) in the reign of Rama III. A monument to Thao Suranari was constructed by the new government in 1933 shortly after its suppression of the royalist Boworadet rebellion which had used Khorat as a base – further adding to the “rebel” city’s infamous reputation. The statue of Thao Suranari (or “Ya Mo” as she is more affectionately known) has since become not only a cultural emblem but also a religious landmark for the people of Khorat and, to a certain extent, the northeastern region generally. The crux of Saipin’s thesis is that there is no evidence from the reign of Rama III to indicate the existence, let alone heroism, of Thao Suranari. The implication was that the cult of Thao Suranari was constructed by the government to ensure the loyalty of the northeastern region to the Thai state, a loyalty that remained in question up to the 1960s. This thesis was interpreted as a slight on the people of Khorat. Demonstrations were organized by various groups in Khorat, goaded on by local politicians demanding, among other things, that the book be burned, that Saipin apologize to the monument, and that her master’s degree be withdrawn. Eventually Matichon was forced to recall the book; Saipin went into hiding and was later transferred from her school in Nakhon Ratchasima to another province. The episode has many lessons. It is an irony that what started out as a state cult has now become a crucial element in contemporary discourses of regional cultural identity. Moreover, the power of regionalism, so long suppressed by the Thai state, now resorts to the same tactics of intimidation used by the state when its foundations are questioned by academic scholarship.


Regional Relations


A new problem for Thai historiography, one that a number of Asian nations face, is the impact of nationalist history on relations with other countries in the region. During the 1990s, Thailand’s economic links with its neighbours – Laos, Cambodia, and Myanmar in particular – reached a level not seen since prior to the colonial era. The impetus for these developments was Thailand’s capitalist expansion fueled by record economic growth from the second half of the 1980s. A new element in Thailand’s presence in these countries is its media, especially in the form of television dramas and movies. Over the last decade a number of Thai media productions, many of them with an historical theme, have led to diplomatic incidents. Relations with Myanmar, already strained over a number of security issues, deteriorated further after the Burmese regime criticized the hit 1998 movie Bang Rajan for its depiction of the Burmese as brutal marauders. The villagers of Bang Rajan are an icon in Thai nationalist history for having sacrificed their lives fighting the Burmese, who went on to besiege and eventually sack the capital Ayuthaya in 1767. The movie was produced in the wake of a resurgence of Thai nationalism following the economic crisis of 1997-8. The representation of the Burmese in another historical film drama, the 2002 Suriyothai, supposedly inspired by a dream of the Queen, is little better. In a response that same year, Burmese academic Ma Thin Win, presumably with the approval of the Burmese government, published a series of articles in The New Light of Myanmar critical of the sixteenth-century Thai king Naresuan, who is credited with saving the Thai “nation” from Burmese occupation. For several days Thai army radio stations broadcast a barrage of anti-Burmese commentary, even accusing the regime of slandering the Thai monarchy. The incident was only resolved after the Prime Minister and Foreign Minister were forced to intervene.


One major contributing problem is the historical textbooks on which these productions are largely based. These are written for the most part within the royalist-nationalist genre described by Thongchai that projects the national framework back onto the pre-nationalist past. The colonial nature of the pre-national Thai state – bringing into its political orbit the Lao territories, Cambodia, and the northern Malay states – is unquestioned. The textbooks are replete with often humiliating images of the Thai kingdom’s subjection of its neighbors. In one famous episode, King Naresuan is supposed to have beheaded the King of Lawaek (Cambodia) and bathed his feet with his blood. In another, the Lao Prince Anuwong, leader of a “revolt” against Thai rule in the 1820s and a nationalist hero in modern Lao historical discourse, is paraded through Bangkok in a cage before his eventual execution.


As Thailand’s relations with its neighbors becomes more intensive as a result of the country’s integration and increasing economic interaction within ASEAN, this historiography and its expression in Thailand’s exported cultural products will inevitably come under greater scrutiny and pressure to respond to contemporary political and economic demands.


Methodology and Consumption


The passions that nationalist history can stir among nations are based upon history’s claim to speak meaningfully of the origins of the nation. The entry of postmodernism onto Thailand’s academic scene challenges this claim. In September 2002 Giles Ungkhakorn, son of one of the heroes of the democracy movement of the 1970s, Puey Ungphakorn, and a leading leftist activist-intellectual in the country, published a short article in the business daily, Krungthep Thurakij (September 4), ostensibly relating his attendence at a “cremation ceremony for postmodernism.” The theme of the article was that postmodernism was little more than a rarified academic indulgence carried on by academics in ivory towers far removed from the struggles of the poor. Postmodernism had nothing to offer the “peoples’ movements” struggling for the rights of the poor against exploitation. On the contrary, it would be a positively dangerous influence on the country’s “progressive forces” if this academic “opiate” were imbibed by students and NGOs. The article set off vigorous debate among Thai academics and intellectuals both in Thailand and overseas via the internet and email, which are now challenging the popular print media as the primary site of intellectual debate. Ungphakorn had touched a raw nerve – the struggle between Marxism and postmodernism for the soul of the “critical” intellectual.


Postmodernism’s history in Thailand started in the early 1980s. But it is only since the late 1990s, in the wake of the end of the Cold War and the blow this caused to Marxist-inspired critical scholarship, that postmodernism has emerged as a serious potential rival. Interestingly, political science has been the discipline where postmodernism’s influence has been felt the most, and Thammasat University has been its preferred home. Chaiwat Satha-Anand was one of the first to use a Foucauldian approach in his Ph.D. thesis, “The Non-Violent Prince” (1981), and Foucault’s influence is also apparent in his recent history of the conflict between the Thai state and separatists in Patani (Chaiwat 2002). Chairat Charoensinolan’s study of the discourse of development (2000) has been the most influential work in recent years on the history of Thai economic development. Chairat also uses Foucault to criticize western discourses of development that have dominated economic thinking and policy making since the first Economic and Social Development Plan of 1961. He has since published another book on semiology, structuralism, and deconstruction and their use in political science (Chairat 2002). Another Thammasat-based political scientist, Kasian Tejapira, of the October 1976 leftist generation, has grafted a postmodern approach onto his former Marxist-oriented views, particular Baudrillard’s work on consumption, semiology, and identity (Kasian 2001).


History appears to have felt postmodernism’s impact less than other disciplines. The historian whose approach owes most to postmodernism is Thongchai, as is clearly evident in his Siam Mapped. Among the younger generation of historians, Davisakd Puaksom has recently completed a Thailand Research Fund-sponsored project on the history of western medicine in Thailand, in which he draws on Foucault’s work on medical discourse and institutions and their control of the body (Davisakd 2002b).


The problem postmodernism poses for Thai historiography is its undermining of any attempt – whether liberal, Marxist, or royalist – to claim to represent a “true” interpretation of the Thai past. However, one of the major focuses of postmodern critique in the West, its questioning of reason, modernity, and the Enlightenment, has received comparatively little attention in Thai historical scholarship. While there have been attempts to show an indigenous origin for the development of reason in Thailand (Nidhi 1995a), the explanation of the coming of reason and modernity to the Thai kingdom has been dominated by the theory of the impact of western colonial power in the second half of the nineteenth century. There is much room for reinterpretation of this accepted truth.


Where postmodernism has been particularly influential in historical circles has been in its critique of the notion that historical truth may be attained through the use of reason and the rules of evidence, or what was formerly known as the “historical method,” as influenced by the positivist “scientific method.” Truth in historical discourse is a no more than a political construction of its author. But as Nidhi (among others) has pointed out, if all there is is “construction” and “deconstruction,” what else is left to do? (Nidhi 2002b, 35). The nation can easily be written away as a constructed fiction.


While these debates may consume professional historians, academic history today has less influence in the public sphere than it has had at any time since Prince Damrong initiated professional history writing at the turn of the twentieth century. What is today consumed as history by the Thai public consists of two forms: the royalist-nationalist history taught in the schools and popularized through bureaucratic channels; and products of the commercial media in the form of movies, TV dramas, and even advertisements, which are gradually becoming the dominant mode of reproduction of historical knowledge. While the history produced by commercial media is often based closely on the officially approved history of school textbooks, as was the 2002 movie Suriyothai, this is not always the case. One very interesting example is a popular genre of TV drama that plays on the theme of a contemporary character who has “slipped back” into the Ayuthaya or early Bangkok era, or a historical character who has “fallen” into present-day Thailand. Recent examples include the Channel 3 productions “Nirat song phop” (Journey through Two Existences) and “Plai thian” (The End of the Candle), which is an imaginative adaptation of episodes from the classic tale Khun Chang Khun Phaen. While partly inspired by the international success of historical fantasy movies such as Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter, the genre also seems designed to fulfil the desire of contemporary generations to overcome the disjuncture between an “indigenous” premodern past (experienced largely through the official history of school textbooks, state ceremony, and representations of national culture) and the westernized, modern present. History presented through the media, therefore, responds to the tastes of its consumers in an increasingly competitive cultural marketplace. Whatever the case, these televised historical dramas attract a popularity and public interest out of all proportion to the more traditional history of the school textbooks.


The issue of the contemporary lack of relevance of professional history was raised by Nidhi as early as 1986 when he argued that the very success of the professionalization of history in the universities since the 1960s was responsible for its declining popularity during the 1980s as historians grew estranged from the reading public and caught up in their “ivory towers” (Nidhi 2002a, 37). Nidhi’s solution to this problem, like many other Thai public intellectuals, was to write shorter, more popularly accessible pieces for popular news-magazines and the press in the hopes of influencing a greater section of the public. An extension of this idea has been his establishment of the “Midnight University” in 1997-8, a loosely organized “open” university dedicated to a higher education free of the problems of the state system and its narrow, instrumentalist service to the state and increasingly the business sector. The university has its own website, which has quickly become a major forum for academic debate in the humanities and social sciences (Mahawithayalai Thiangkhun 2003).


The dominance of the Damrong school of history (or Thongchai’s royalist-nationalist historiography) has from the early twentieth century relied to a great extent on the technology of print and the state’s control of its dissemination through the education system and mass media. It is possible that the greatest challenge to this mode of national history will come not from new academic methodologies but from new forms of dissemination and consumption of movies, TV dramas, and internet debate by new mass markets.

Patrick Jory is coordinator of the Regional Studies Program at Walailak University, Nakhon Sri Thammarat, Thailand.


I am grateful for comments on the subject of this paper by my colleague Davisakd Puaksom. However responsibility for the paper’s final form including its weaknesses is of course mine alone.


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Thongchai Winichakul. 1995. “Changing Landscape of the Past: New Histories in Thailand since 1973.” Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 26, no. 1 (March): 99-120.


Thongchai Winichakul. 1994. Siam Mapped: A History of the Geobody of a Nation. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press.


Ungkhakorn, Giles. 2002. “Ngan sop naew postmodern” (A Cremation Ceremony for Postmodernism). Jut Prakai, Krungthep Thurakij, September 4.

from :http://kyotoreview.cseas.kyoto-u.ac.jp/issue/issue2/article_251.html

History in the Remaking

History in the Remaking

Nantiya Tangwisutijit


Conventional views of Thailand's past are being shattered by academics who feel the truth is not always being told



Thongchai Winichakul, a noted professor of history at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, has returned to Thailand on several occasions in the past few years to deliver public and academic speeches. Each time the venue is packed with people eager to hear his fresh and critical views about Thai history and society. He has not disappointed them.

On one occasion last year, respected Thai economist Professor Ammar Siamwalla congratulated him after his keynote speech at Thammasat University with a note of admiration: "You've kept your high standard." In his speech, Thongchai critically traced the roots of the master narrative of Thai history and exposed some hidden facts.

For example, in the stories of Siam's "loss" of territory to French imperialists, known as the Franco-Siamese crisis of 1893, historiographers projected Siam as a lamb bullied by France in the role of a wolf. Siam's survival was at risk at a time when all of its neighbours had been colonised. Bangkok had to give some of its territory to the imperial wolf to save the rest of the country.

"In fact, it was a case of Siam as a wolf being defeated by the bigger French wolf in their competition to gain control over the Lao and Cambodian lambs," he said. "Nonetheless, the story looks credible when told in a wrong context. It's a context in which the country's present boundary is taken as the old territory. It causes us to misunderstand that some parts of Laos and Cambodia that we 'lost' to France were always a part of Siam."

According to Thongchai, the 1893 crisis gave rise to the concept of the nation's history as we understand it today. The map that shapes today's understanding of national history and territory appeared for the first time after the crisis. Ironically, he wrote, the map was the outcome of cooperation between France, Britain and Siam.

Over the years, Thongchai has repeatedly called for a new historical "culture" in which history is read more critically. Under the predominant theme of the master narrative - in which Siam was a peace-loving country which endured many external threats only to be rescued by heroic leaders - any different view of history has always been suppressed. The legacy still hurts people who were reluctant or resistant to territorial integration.

In Thongchai's view - reflected in one of his speeches two years ago - the scores of student activists brutally killed during the October 6, 1976 massacre were victims of the prevailing view of Thai history because the master narrative, which stresses national unity, did not have room for people with a different opinion.

Some concepts discussed by Thongchai in the past few years were based on his 1994 book "Siam Mapped: a history of the geo-body of a nation", which is considered an original ontribution to our body of knowledge. By talking about them in public he is attempting to communicate more with Thais to get them to understand the country's real history.

His new book about the history of Thai national history will, partly, be a further development of the concepts he has discussed in recent years.

Earlier this year Thongchai came back again to reinforce his calls for an alternative view of Thai history. At the 8th Thai Studies Conference in Nakhon Phanom, he backed a new way of writing history. Instead of taking a central view, historians should begin at the interstices - where a location stops being this or that nation. That would mean autonomous history of areas that were not independent nations, but had resisted integration - or are still struggling for autonomy, such as in the cases of the Karen, Mon and Kachin, or Aceh and Irian Jaya.

Indeed, the need to go beyond the current view of Thai history was an important message from the conference. Apart from Thongchai, two prominent historians - Professor David Wyatt from Cornell University and Professor Srisakara Vallibhotama - also criticised the flaws and shortcomings of current views.

Wyatt emphasised that history was more than the history of a nation, while Srisakara recalled how people on the two banks of the Mekong River were spiritually attached to one another before national boundaries cut them apart.

"The validity of writing 'national history' in Asia is now disputed and the need to 'rescue' its 'casualties' advocated," Thongchai wrote. "This is an opportunity to propose alternatives, including radical and 'wild' ones . . . it is time to move on."

Thongchai did "move on" to the interstices. His latest academic, yet spicy, keynote address two weeks ago in Pattani exposed limits of geographical logic of Thailand's history that could not honestly explain the accounts of Pattani. He called stories from Pattani an anomaly in the geographical logic of Thai national history. He argued, in spite of their differences, that the stories should also have a place in Thai history and society (see related report).

Last week he elaborated on some points with The Nation.

How should we treat stories from the borders, like that of Pattani? How does it fit into our present knowledge of national history?

The master narrative should reduce its role and power. It could become one among many narratives, none of which is national. Some will be better known than others. The story of Bangkok [for example] may be better known because it involved a lot of people from different places.

But there should not be a big story that squeezes in other smaller ones in the name of harmony. Some people said we can have diversity, but they should stay in harmony. Why harmony? Can't we have diversity but not in harmony? We could disagree on things but we don't have to fight. Conflict resolution is not about reaching an agreement. It only means we disagree but don't confront by violence, that's all.

Why don't we allow different stories, even conflicting ones, to co-exist without trying to fit them all into one big story?

But hasn't the master narrative under the concept of unity become powerful because it's simple, easy to feel and understand?

I think we care too much about unity in the past. Some said it had a mission - to fight external enemies or whatever. I think this is similar to many other countries. But they also allow people with differences to live together. I think it's important to open the space for everybody in society.

It's not always true that minority groups want their own independent nation. They would not want trouble from separatism. But they need respect as fellow human beings. I think they can if we don't humiliate them. Do we believe a nation comes before anything, before their lives? Personally I think normal people will be satisfied if they can have a happy life.

On the contrary, life can go on even if we don't think about history.

It's true we don't think much about history [in our daily life]. But sometimes history has a legacy. We don't feel it because we are part of the majority.

But those suppressed by the master narrative must be disturbed. One easy example was when I delivered my speech at Pattani. I knew the term Khaek [for the Muslims] is kind of insulting, but I didn't care much about it until someone told me after my talk that they did not like the term. It's like we treat them as others, someone with lower status.

As I said, we don't realise it, but they feel it all the time. Sometimes the [suppressive] kind of thinking is also in state policy and many other things.

I have to reckon with national history because it has its negative side. It killed people. I am looking for an alternative kind of history and perhaps a new historical culture.

From The Nation, June 28, 2002

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The Kingdom of Thailand


by Michael Hoppe


Why are so many people fascinated from this kingdom? Maybe because it was never colonized by the Europeans and therefore remained original and unique without the dominating influence of European culture or language (colonialism). Speaking in geographical terms Thailand's surface area makes a large part of South East Asia. Its territory extends from the Himalaya foothill to the Malayan peninsula, also embracing the Golf of Thailand. If people see this on a map Thailand's territory often reminds them of an elephant's feature. Altogether Thailand has a surface are of about 513.000 square kilometers.

But surely it is not the elephant's shape on the map which influences so many people to travel to Thailand. The northern part of the kingdom is very hilly. There you have a very dry climate in summer and people who live there a very poor since agriculture is nearly impossible due to the lack of rain. But the central part and south east coast of Thailand are completely different. Here you have a humid climate because of the Golf of Thailand which surrounds this part of the country. The average temperature is about 18° Celsius.

When tourists decide to travel to Thailand they will not think about the seasons of the year but check how many rain there is for example from June to September when it's monsoon time. In the months before monsoon there are the highest temperatures of the year - quite often around 40° Celsius. So when you like cooler temperatures and not so many rain you should decide to travel between November and February.

Now what can you see in Thailand? It's a very colorful country. First of all you have the impressive capital Bangkok (the Thais call it Krung Trep) with its fascinating mixture of tradition and modernism. No problem to walk the streets of Bangkok and see a Buddhist monk talking with his mobile.

Songkran Adventure: Thailand's New Year Water Festival








by Doug Anderson


Friday
Since I was getting short of money, I decided to make a visit to an ATM the evening's project. I had noticed on a map earlier that Silom, one of the main streets of Bangkok, was apparently within walking distance of my new hotel, so decided to head that-a-way. I knew there would be lots of shops and restaurants and many ATMs there, and so I could stop for a Pepsi somewhere before heading back.


It's still Songkran, the Thai New Year Water Festival. I read in the Bangkok Post that the festival lasts different lengths of time in different parts of Thailand, varying from three days to five. Tonight was the last night of the Songkran celebrations in Bangkok.


Now at this point, someone should have taken me roughly by the shoulders and pushed me up against the wall, and slapped my face a few times to get my attention. "This. Is. The. Last. Night. Of. A. Five. Day. Water. Festival. Get it?"
Um, well no, not really. I mean, I read the words in the newspaper, but what they implied was lost in translation.


I knew there was a chance I might get wet, so I removed my wallet and didn't bother with my backpack. I took a business card with the hotel name and address, and my own business card with my name on it (in case someone found my body), my ATM card, and the little money I had (about $16). I took a look at the map, memorizing the streets in this area, then folded the map, and put it in my backpack, which I intentionally left behind. I find that, if you are going to explore a strange city at night, it's much more sa-nook (fun) without a map, and anyway, being a former Boy Scout, I have an infallible sense of direction.


I made my way out of the hotel, picked up a couple of rocks in case of dogs, and made my way to the main street, a couple of blocks away, where I discarded the rocks. They were unnecessary. The lane I wanted was directly across the street from where I was standing, right next to the Citibank headquarters, according to my map. But there were six lanes of traffic and a canal in between me and it, so I had to walk a couple of blocks to the nearest intersection, where I could take a pedestrian bridge across the road.


As I'm standing facing the narrow lane, deciding if I really want to do this at night, a tall foreigner with a German accent asked me if I spoke English. "Yes," I replied, "I'm from Canada."


"Do you know where one can eat in a restaurant without getting wet?"
Um, well, as far as I know, you can eat in any restaurant without getting wet. We seemed to be on different wavelengths, so he toddled off one way, and I toddled off down the lane.


Turning the corner, I saw a pickup truck ahead, filled with young people with buckets of water, stopped at the side of the road. Oh, oh, what to do, what to do? I stood in a doorway, hidden from view. A young woman came walking out of a side lane, and looked startled at seeing me hiding in a dark doorway. I pointed at the truck up the street and yelled "Songkran!" and she laughed and walked on. I had the thought that if a young woman was unafraid about walking down a dark lane alone at night, I, a former Boy Scout, could certainly make my way past the truck. So I stepped out, and just at that moment, the truck pulled away.


I walked down the lane, which twisted and curved around, and as I passed by an intersection, another truck came around the corner and I got squirted a couple of times. I walked on, and was about to walk past an apartment building when I heard someone laughing. Looking up, I saw four young men with a big bucket and some pots, so I quickly crossed the road and continued on. I made it to a main street without further incident, and continued walking towards Silom.
Or so I thought.


I was looking for Convent Road, which I knew would take me directly to Silom. I came to an intersection, and the sign said this was Convent Road, but it was not going the way I thought it should go. So, unlike most men, I asked for directions. A young woman came along, and I said "Ta-nohn Silom tee nai?" which means "Road Silom where?" which is how you ask a question in Thai. She pointed down the street, matching what the sign said. So my infallible sense of direction was pointing me 90 degrees off from where it should have pointed; it was pointing this-a-way and it should have been pointing that-a-way. Oh well, seems to me I never did get all my Scout merit badges.


I walked down Convent Road towards Silom, and passed through an area of 4 or 5 restaurants side by side. This is one of the great pleasures of Thailand. The sidewalk was crammed with tables, over 100 people, with barely any room to squeeze through. But the smells are incredible... all that Thai food, cooked right there on the street, just fantastic. I looked inside the restaurants, and they were all empty. Everyone was outside enjoying the atmosphere. I love the smells of Thai food.


I got to Silom finally and was amazed at all the people. There were thousands of people, covering the road. Silom has six lanes with a large median in the centre, which has huge pylons holding up the SkyTrain. There was a single lane of traffic, moving very slowly, mostly pickup trucks filled with people armed with water pistols and buckets and pots of water. The sidewalks and other lanes were filled with people doing the same thing. Loud rock music was playing from several directions.


Oh, now I understand. The last night of a five day water festival. Party time.
I was on the south side of Silom. Where I wanted to be was on the north side, which is where most of the restaurants are and where I knew there were a number of ATMs. The SkyTrain station was right above me, and 50 feet to the right of where I was standing, was a long stairway up to the station. The problem was, there were over a hundred people between me and the stairway, and they were all armed.
Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.


I slowly made my way through the crowd to the stairway, getting squirted a few times, but not too badly, considering.


I climbed the stairs and made my way down the stairs on the north side.
The crowd was thicker on the north side, and I found myself being pushed along by the people as they moved into a side lane en masse. OK, I had no particular destination in mind, so I just went along with the flow.


The lane was narrow, and there were hundreds of people. Along the sides were lots of young people armed with buckets of water, water pistols, and one guy had a hose, which he squirted on everyone. Within seconds, I was drenched. There was an incredible amount of noise, rock music, people laughing and squealing when they got splashed. I kept my hands on my pockets, protecting my money, as I was pushed and squeezed by people deeper and deeper into the lane.
I was squirted from the side, and the water went into my eyes. I had to put my hands on the side of my face to protect my eyes from all the water.


At one point, I happened to look up and saw, like a freeze frame, a bucketload of water coming at us, a meter above our heads. I ducked, and sure enough, my back was drenched. Then moments later, two more bucketloads hit me from the rear.


Just then, I heard some tall people yelling at each other, saying something like "This is stupid, how will we get out?" I couldn't see through my glasses, as they were steamed up and all wet, but they were obviously foreigners. The tallest one started bulling his way forward toward the main street, causing the people around me to lose their balance and squeeze even closer together. Now this is a dangerous situation; this is how people get crushed and trampled.




Fortunately, it eased up as the crowd adjusted and the bulls made their way out of the lane.
The crush of people eased a little, and something very cold splashed my back. I turned around, and a young guy was scooping ice water out of a big cooler filled with Cokes. I yelled "Nam kaeng!" (ice) at him, and he laughed and said yes, and offered to throw a second bowl of ice water at me. I declined, so he changed his angle slightly and threw it at the back of a young girl who promptly squealed.


At one point, a young guy gave me a fierce hug and yelled "Happy New Year!" in my face from six inches away.


The crowd kept moving forward further into the lane, and I went with them. I knew there was a street parallel to Silom, so I thought I would just go to the end of the lane, and take a taxi home from there, and forget about the ATM for tonight. But as I went further, the crowd stopped moving and I discovered that this particular lane was a dead end. I stood there, looking back at 2000 people, wondering if I had the energy to do that again. Suddenly I got squirted again. I was standing next to a bar with an open door, so I quickly ducked in there and stood dripping in their entrance.


The bar was mostly empty, and loud rock music was playing. I squished and squelched over to the bar, and ordered a Coke, which she poured into a glass with ice, and brought it to me where I was standing at the bar.


I reached into my pockets for my money and discovered I had no money. Well, I still had some coins and my ATM card and a blob of pulp that in a previous life had been business cards, but the bills were gone. That guy who was hugging me was probably pinning my arms while his light-fingered friend was lifting my money. I never felt a thing.


I pulled out the coins I still had. The drink was 60 baht ($2) but all I had was 40 baht and a few cents. I pushed it at her, and then yelled "Kamoy!" (thief) and showed her I had no more money. She looked uncertain as to what to do, but then made a motion which clearly meant "Give me more money". I yelled "Kamoy" again, and went through my little pantomime again, then suddenly noticed that the loud rock music I was listening to was Spanish Techno-Rock. And the name of the bar was "Noriega's".


Expect the unexpected.
Here I am, standing dripping wet, listening to Spanish Techno-Rock, in a Spanish bar in Thailand, with no money, unable to pay for a drink. How weird is that?
There was a Spanish-looking guy, with a pony-tail, standing near the doorway. Four or five young guys came in, and he stopped them, and asked them in Thai what they wanted. They said they wanted to use the toilet, and he said okay, but he made them leave their guns on the counter. I'm thinking, this is just like a Western movie. The kids put their water pistols on the counter and made their way to the washroom at the back of the bar. After they left, I figured that was a good idea, maybe I could dry off a little, so I went back too, but there were no paper towels and no hand dryers. Sigh.


When I went back to the bar for my drink, I asked the Spanish-looking guy if he was the owner, Noriega. He said, yes, he was, and he had escaped from jail and had a facelift. He has probably told that joke a thousand times, but I laughed. He told me that his father was from Chile and had married a Thai woman, and that he, Noriega, was born in Thailand and spent all his life here. And he didn't speak Spanish, only Thai and English.


I told him a kamoy had taken my money, and that I didn't have enough to pay for the drink, and he said that was OK, then reached behind the bar for his wallet, and took out a 100 baht note (about $3) to give to me for a taxi home. I thanked him, declined, and told him I was walking distance away. He then showed me the back door, which led to a parking lot, and said that I could avoid the crush out front by going out that way.


So I did that, but the problem was, that lane lead back to Silom, where there were thousands of people. Sigh.


I stood there, watching the action, and planning my next move. I didn't want to get caught up in a crush again. As I was watching, a tall, skinny German-looking lady, maybe 65 years old, appeared in front of me and squealed and laughed. Someone had just squirted her in the back. She made her way across the lane in front of me, and someone squirted her again, and she squealed again, so then two more people squirted her.


There were stairs leading to the SkyTrain station, and right near them, an ATM. Only 200 people between me and them. Sigh.


I stepped out onto the sidewalk on Silom, and very shortly, a young man stepped directly in front of me holding a small plastic bowl half-filled with white goop, the flour slurry. He slopped some on both my cheeks and grinned at me; I reached into his bowl and smeared his face, too, and he said "Happy New Year!". I said "Happy New Year to you too!" and turned slightly and saw a young woman grinning at me. She slopped some goop on my face and I did the same to her, and we exchanged greetings, all of us grinning like maniacs, surrounded by noise and hustle-bustle.


And now I finally get it. The last night of a five day water festival. Happy New Year.
And I'm thinking about the silly ritual we practice in Western society where everyone wears a party hat and stands around drinking beer or wine until close to midnight, and then everyone counts down from 10 to 1, then kisses the person next to them, and then blows a loud horn. The Thai way is much more sa-nook.


To make a long story longer, I made it to the ATM, climbed the stairs to the station platform, bought a 30 cent ticket, rode one stop, and got off near my hotel. I then discovered two convenience stores that I hadn't known about, so I stopped and bought a few supplies. Yet another cultural difference: both stores sold milk by the litre, but neither sold large containers of orange juice, only small drinking boxes. But both stores had 8 or 10 kinds of green tea in litre bottles. I passed.


I walked two blocks to my lane, and stopped to pick up a couple of rocks to throw at the dogs, if necessary. It was necessary. As I approached the end of the lane, two dogs came bounding out, barking furiously. Why do they always have to be guard dogs? Why can't they be guard cats or guard canaries?


At home in the hotel, I was shocked when I looked in the mirror. My hair was plastered to my head, my face and neck were covered in flour, my shirt and shorts were dripping wet, and had many flour blotches. I could see my nipples and chest hair through the T-shirt. I was a walking wet T-shirt contest


Anyway, I'm a "glass is half full kind of guy", not a "glass is half empty guy". Taking stock of the situation, I had a neat adventure, accomplished my goal of getting money from an ATM, went down some roads I hadn't been before, enjoyed some wonderful smells, got plastered (literally), and discovered a couple of convenience stores conveniently located near my hotel. And all it cost me was $16.


Sa-nook.
Happy New Year


Wednesday, April 11, 2007

History of Thailand since 1973:Democracy

The King re-appointed the liberal royalist Anand as interim prime minister until elections could be held in September 1992, which brought the Democrat Party under Chuan Leekpai to power, mainly representing the voters of Bangkok and the south. Chuan was a competent administrator who held power until 1995, when he was defeated at elections by a coalition of conservative and provincial parties led by Banharn Silpa-acha. Tainted by corruption charges from the very beginning, Banharn’s government was forced to call early elections in 1996, in which General Chavalit Yongchaiyudh's New Aspiration Party managed to gain a narrow victory.

Soon after coming into office, Prime Minister Chavalit was confronted by the Asian Financial Crisis in 1997. After coming under strong criticsm for his handling of the crisis, Chavilit resigned in November 1997 and Chuan returned to power. Chuan came to an agreement with the International Monetary Fund which stabilised the currency and allowed IMF intervention on Thai economic recovery. In contrast to the country's previous history, the crisis was resolved by civilian rulers under democratic procedures.

Since 2001 Thai politics has been dominated by the populist Thai Rak Thai ("Thais Love Thais") party of telecommunications millionaire Thaksin Shinawatra. Chuan’s agreement with IMF and use of injection fund to the economy stir various stream of opinion, meanwhile Thaksin’s demagogic appeal to the mass electorate. Thaksin campaigned effectively against the old politics, corruption, organized crime, and drugs. In January 2001 he had a sweeping victory at the polls, winning a larger popular mandate than any Thai prime minister has ever had in a freely elected National Assembly.

While Thaksin himself owned a large portion of shares in Shin Corporation (formerly Shinawatra Computer and Communications), one of Thailand's major telecommunications companies, he moved his holding to under the names of his servants and driver until his children were old enough to able to hold shares. The shares eventually transferred to family members. The share issue went to court and the court ruled in his favor, acquitting him from the legal clause that a prime minister cannot hold shares. Even though this legally freed him, political opposition parties and many Thai people did not accept the court ruling on this matter.

In power, Thaksin has presided over the rapid recovery of the Thai economy and repaid all debts borrowed from IMF before due time. By 2002 Thailand, and Bangkok in particular, was once again booming. As low-end manufacturing moved to China and other low-wage economies, Thailand moved upscale into more sophisticated manufacturing, both for a rapidly expanding domestic middle class market and for export. Tourism, and particularly sex tourism, also remained a huge revenue earner despite intermittent "social order" campaigns by the government to control the country's nightlife.

Thus by 2004 Thai democracy and prosperity seemed firmly established, but the dominance of Thaksin, whose rule was highly personalised and somewhat authoritarian (private company CEO-style), was seen by many commentators as an unhealthy development. Thaksin won an even bigger majority at elections in February 2005, securing his second consecutive term.
In December 2005 media proprietor Sonthi Limthongkul launched an anti-Thaksin campaign based on accusations of corruption and immorality. Accusations included the improper handling of privatization of PTT and EGAT, the unfairness of the U.S.-Thailand free trade agreement, and the corruption in the Suvarnabhumi Airport project. In January 2006, the 73,000 million baht tax free buy-out of his family holding in Shin Corporation, while legal, brought on more accusations by Sonthi and opposition parties on the grounds of what they said was immorality and conflict of interest. Mass rallies were held by Sonthi outside Parliament House, at which 40 people were arrested for trespassing but later released. In February Thaksin responded by calling a snap election in April.

On September 19, 2006, with the prime minister in New York for a meeting of the United Nations General Assembly, Army Commander-in-Chief Lieutenant General Sonthi Boonyaratglin launched a coup 'd'etat. On the same day Thailand's Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra declared a state of emergency..

References : Wikipedia

History of Thailand since 1973:The Prem era



The Prem eraIn April 1981 a clique of junior army officers popularly known as the "Young Turks" staged a coup, taking control of Bangkok. They dissolved the National Assembly and promised sweeping social changes. But their position quickly crumbled when Prem accompanied the royal family to Khorat. With the King's support for Prem made clear, loyalist units under the palace favourite General Arthit Kamlangek managed to recapture the capital in a bloodless counterattack.

This episode raised the prestige of the monarchy still further, and also enhanced Prem’s status as a relative moderate. A compromise was therefore reached. The insurgency ended and most of the ex-student guerillas returned to Bangkok under an amnesty. The army returned to its barracks, and yet another constitution was promulgated, creating an appointed Senate to balance the popularly elected National Assembly. Elections were held in April 1983, giving Prem, now in the guise of a civilian politician, a large majority in the legislature (an arrangement which came to be known as "Premocracy").

Prem was also the beneficiary of the accelerating economic revolution which was sweeping south-east Asia. After the recession of the mid 1970s, economic growth took off. For the first time Thailand became a significant industrial power, and manufactured goods such as computer parts, textiles and footwear overtook rice, rubber and tin as Thailand’s leading exports. With the end of the Indochina wars and the insurgency, tourism developed rapidly and became a major earner. The urban population continued to grow rapidly, but overall population growth began to decline, leading to a rise in living standards even in rural areas, although the Isaan continued to lag behind. While Thailand did not grow as fast as the "East Asian Tigers" like Taiwan and South Korea, it achieved sustained growth.

Prem held office for eight years, surviving two more general elections in 1983 and 1986, and remained personally popular, but the revival of democratic politics led to a demand for a more adventurous leader. In 1988 fresh elections brought former General Chatichai Choonhavan to power. But Chatichai proved both incompetent and corrupt.


References : Wikipedia

History of Thailand since 1973:A return to military rule

By late 1976 moderate middle class opinion had turned away from radicalism as the students, with their base at Thammasat University, grew more militant. The army and the right-wing parties fought back against the radicals through paramilitary groups such as the Village Scouts and the Red Gaurs. Matters came to a head in October when Thanom returned to Thailand to enter a monastery. Violent student protests were met by equally violent counter-protests. On October 6, 1976 the army unleashed the paramilitaries, and used the resultant orgy of violence, in which hundreds of students were tortured and killed, to suspend the constitution and resume power.

The army installed Thanin Kraivixien, an ultra-conservative former judge, as prime minister, and carried out a sweeping purge of the universities, the media and the civil service. Thousands of students, intellectuals and other leftists fled Bangkok and joined the Communist Party's insurgent forces in the north and north-east, operating from safe bases in Laos. Others left for exile, including Dr. Puey Ungphakorn, the respected economist and Rector of Thammasat University. The economy was also in serious difficulties, in no part due to Thanin's policies, which frightened foreign investors. The new regime proved as unstable as the democratic experiment had been. In October 1977 the army staged another "coup" and replaced Thanin with General Kriangsak Chomanand.

By this time, Thai forces had to deal with the situation resulting from the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia. There was another flood of refugees, and both Vietnamese and Khmer Rouge forces periodically crossed into Thai territory, sparking clashes along the borders. A 1979 visit to Beijing earned Deng Xiaoping's agreement to end support for Thailand's communist movement; in return, the Thai authorities agreed to give safe haven to the Khmer Rouge forces fleeing west following the invasion of Cambodia. Revelations of the crimes of the defeated Khmer Rouge also sharply reduced the appeal of communism to the Thai public. Kriangsak's position as prime minister soon became untenable and he was forced to step down in February 1980 at a time of economic troubles. Kriangsak was succeeded by the army commander-in-chief, General Prem Tinsulanonda, a staunch royalist with a reputation for being incorruptible.

References : Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

History of Thailand since 1973:Revolution

The Democracy Monument in Bangkok, built in 1940 to commemorate the fall of the absolute monarchy i like to dance. For the first time the urban middle class, led by the students, had defeated the combined forces of the old ruling class and the army, and had gained the apparent blessing of the king for a transition to full democracy, symbolised by a new constitution which provided for a fully elected unicameral legislature.

However, Thailand had not yet produced a political class able to make this bold new democracy function smoothly. The January 1975 elections failed to produce a stable party majority, and fresh elections in April 1976 produced the same result. The veteran politician Seni Pramoj and his brother Kukrit Pramoj alternated in power, but were unable to carry out a coherent reform programme. The sharp increase in oil prices in 1974 led to recession and inflation, weakening the government's position. The democratic government's most popular move was to secure the withdrawal of American forces from Thailand.

The wisdom of this move was soon questioned, however, when Vietnam, Laos and Cambodia fell to communist forces in 1975. The arrival of communist regimes on Thailand’s borders, the abolition of the 600-year-old Lao monarchy, and the arrival of a flood of refugees from Laos and Cambodia, swung public opinion in Thailand back to the right, and conservatives did much better in the 1976 elections than they had done in 1975.

References :Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

The 1973 democracy movement

The 1973 democracy movementIn the end it was the students that played the decisive role in the fall of the junta. Student demonstrations had started in 1968 and grew in size and numbers in the early 1970s despite the continued ban on political meetings. In June 1973, nine Ramkhamhaeng University students were expelled for publishing an article in a student newspaper that was critical of the government. Shortly after, thousands of students held a protest at the Democracy Monument demanding the re-enrolment of the nine students. The government ordered the universities to shut, but shortly afterwards it backed down and allowed the students to be re-enrolled.

In October the situation became more serious when another 13 students were arrested on charges of conspiracy to overthrow the government. This time the student protesters were joined by workers, businessmen and other ordinary citizens. The demonstrations swelled to several hundred thousand and the issue broadened from the release of the arrested students to demands for a new constitution and the replacement of the current government.
On October 13, the government yielded to the public's demand and the detainees were released. Leaders of the demonstrations, among them Saeksan Prasertkul, called off the march in accordance with the wishes of the King.

As the crowds were breaking up the next day, the historic October 14th, many students found themselves unable to leave because the police had attempted to control the flow of the crowd by blocking the southern route to Rajavithi Road. Cornered and overwhelmed by the hostile crowd, the police soon responded with violence by launching barrages of teargas and gunfire. Within minutes, a full scale riot had erupted.

The military was called in, and Bangkok witnessed the horrifying spectacle of tanks rolling down Rajdamnoen Avenue and helicopters firing down at Thammasat University. A number of students commandeered buses and fire engines in an attempt to halt the progress of the tanks by ramming into them, with disastrous results.
With chaos reigning on the streets, King Bhumibol, ignoring the safety concerns of his immediate security staff, ordered the gates of Chitralada Palace opened to the students who were being gunned down by the army.

Despite orders from Thanom that the military action be intensified, army commander Kris Sivara had the army withdrawn from the streets.
Then, for the first time in modern history, Thailand's constitutional monarch openly involved himself in the transition of political power. He condemned the government's inability to handle the demonstrations and ordered Thanom, Praphas, and Narong to leave the country.

At 06:10PM, Field Marshal Thanom Kittikachorn resigned from his post as Prime Minister.
An hour later, the King appeared on national television, broadcasting the following speech:
"Today is a day of great sorrow that will be. . . recorded with the utmost grief in the history of our Thai nation. For the past six or seven days, there have been various demands and negotiations that have culminated in an agreement between the students and the government. But then bottle bombs were thrown and tear-gas was fired, causing some clashes in which many people were injured. Violence then escalated all over the city until it became a riot that has not ended until now, with over a hundred of our Thai compatriots having lost their lives.
I beseech all sides and all people to eliminate the causes of violence by decidedly suspending any action leading in that direction, in order that our country can return to a state of normalcy as soon as possible.

Furthermore, in order to remedy the present disaster, Field Marshal Thanom Kittikachorn resigned from the post of prime minister earlier tonight. I have consequently appointed Nai Sanya Dharmasakti as prime minister. . . ."''

References :1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000 The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 · Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 · Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 · Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

The history of Thailand from 1932 to 1973 :Postwar Thailand

Seni Pramoj became Prime Minister in 1945, and promptly restored the name Siam as a symbol of the end of Phibun's nationalist regime. However, he found his position at the head of a cabinet packed with Pridi’s loyalists quite uncomfortable. Northeastern populist politicians like Tiang Sirikhanth and Bangkok upstarts like Sanguan Tularaksa were not the sort that the aristocratic Seni preferred to associate with. They, in turn, viewed Seni as an elitist who was entirely out of touch with Thailand’s political realities. Pridi continued to wield power behind the scenes as he had done during the Khuang government. The regent’s looming presence and overarching authority rankled the proud, thin-skinned Seni, fueling a personal animosity that would poison Thailand’s postwar politics.

Democratic elections were subsequently held in January 1946. These were the first elections in which political parties were legal, and Pridi's People's Party and its allies won a majority. In March 1946 Pridi became Siam's first democratically elected Prime Minister. In 1947 he agreed to hand back the French territory occupied in 1940 as the price for admission to the United Nations, the dropping of all wartime claims against Siam and a substantial package of American aid.

In December 1945 the young king Ananda Mahidol had returned to Siam from Europe, but in July 1946 he was found mysteriously shot dead in the palace. Three palace servants were tried and executed for his murder, but Thai society has preferred not to dwell on the event rather than to investigate its causes. The king was succeeded by his younger brother Bhumibol Adulyadej, who was a schoolboy in Europe. In August Pridi was forced to resign amid suspicion that he had been involved in the regicide. Without his leadership, the civilian government floundered, and in November 1947 the army, its confidence restored after the debacle of 1945, seized power. After an interim Khuang-headed government, in April 1948 the army brought Phibun back from exile and made him Prime Minister. Pridi in turn was driven into exile, eventually settling in Beijing as a guest of the People's Republic of China.

Phibun's return to power coincided with the onset of the Cold War and the establishment of a Communist regime in North Vietnam. He soon won the support of the U.S., beginning a long tradition of U.S.-backed military regimes in Thailand (as the country was again renamed in July 1949, this time permanently). Once again political opponents were arrested and tried, and some were executed. During this time, several of the key figures in the wartime Free Thai underground – including Thawin Udom, Thawi Thawethikul, Chan Bunnak, and Tiang Sirikhanth – were eliminated in extra-legal fashion by the Thai police, run by Phibun’s ruthless associate Phao Sriyanond. There were attempted counter-coups by Pridi supporters in 1948, 1949 and 1951, the second leading to heavy fighting between the army and navy before Phibun emerged victorious. In the navy's 1951 attempt, popularly known as the Manhattan Coup, Phibun was nearly killed when the ship he was held hostage aboard was bombed by the pro-government air force.

In 1949 a new constitution was promulgated, creating a Senate appointed by the king (in practice, by the government). But in 1951 the regime abolished its own constitution and reverted to the 1932 arrangements, effectively abolishing the National Assembly as an elected body. This provoked strong opposition from the universities and the press, and led to a further round of trials and repression. The regime was greatly helped, however, by a postwar boom which gathered pace through the 1950s, fuelled by rice exports and U.S. aid. Thailand's economy began to diversity, while the population and urbanisation increased.

By 1955 Phibun was losing his leading position in the army to younger rivals led by Field Marshal Sarit Thanarat and General Thanom Kittikachorn. To shore up his position he restored the 1949 constitution and called elections, which his supporters won. But the army was not prepared to give up power, and in September 1957 it demanded Phibun's resignation. When Phibun tried to have Sarit arrested, the army staged a bloodless coup on September 17, 1957, ending Phibun's career for good. Thanom became Prime Minister until 1958, then yielded his place to Sarit, the real head of the regime. Sarit held power until his death in 1963, when Thanom again took the lead.

Sarit and Thanom were the first Thai leaders to have been educated entirely in Thailand, and were less influenced by European political ideas, whether fascist or democratic, than the generation of Pridi and Phibun had been. Rather, they were Thai traditionalists, who sought to restore the prestige of the monarchy and to maintain a society based on order, hierarchy and religion. They saw rule by the army as the best means of ensuring this, and also of defeating Communism, which they now associated with Thailand's traditional enemies the Vietnamese. The young King Bhumibol, who returned to Thailand in 1951, co-operated with this project. The Thai monarchy's present elevated status thus has its origins in this era.

The regimes of Sarit and Thanom were strongly supported by the U.S. Thailand had formally become a U.S. ally in 1954 with the formation of the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO). While the war in Indochina was being fought between the Vietnamese and the French, Thailand (disliking both equally) stayed aloof, but once it became a war between the U.S. and the Vietnamese Communists, Thailand committed itself strongly to the U.S. side, concluding a secret agreement with the U.S. in 1961, sending troops to Vietnam and Laos and allowing the U.S. to open airbases in the east of the country to conduct its bombing war against North Vietnam. The Vietnamese retaliated by supporting the Communist Party of Thailand's insurgency in the north and northeast.

The Vietnam War hastened the modernisation and westernisation of Thai society. The American presence and the exposure to western culture that came with it had an effect on almost every aspect of Thai life. Before the late 1960s, full access to Western culture was limited to a highly educated elite in society, but the Vietnam War brought the outside world face to face with large segments of the Thai society as never before. With US dollars pumping up the economy, the service, transportation, and construction industries grew phenomenally. The traditional rural family unit was broken down as more and more rural Thais moved to the city to find new job. This led to a clash of cultures as Thais were exposed to Western ideas about fashion, music, values, and moral standards.

The population began to grow explosively as the standard of living rose, and a flood of people began to move from the villages to the cities, and above all to Bangkok. Thailand had 30 million people in 1965, while by the end of the 20th century the population had doubled. Bangkok's population had grown tenfold since 1945 and had tripled since 1970.
Educational opportunities and exposure to mass media increased during the Vietnam War years. As bright university students learned more about ideas related to Thailand's economic and political systems resulting in a revival of student activism. The Vietnam War period also saw the growth of the Thai middle class which gradually developed its own identity and consciousness.

Economic development certainly did not bring prosperity to all. During the 1960s many of the rural poor felt increasingly dissatisfied with their condition in society and disillusioned by their treatment by the central government in Bangkok. Efforts by the Thai government to develop poor rural regions often did not have the desired effect in that they contributed to the farmers' awareness of how bad off they really were. It is interesting to note that it was not always the poorest of the poor who joined the anti-government insurgency. Increased government presence in the rural villages did little to improve the situation. Villagers became subject to increased military and police harassment and bureaucratic corruption. Villagers often felt betrayed when government promises of development were frequently not fulfilled. By the early 1970s rural discontent had manifested itself into a peasant's activist movement.

The peasant's movement got started in the regions just north of the central plains and the Chiang Mai area (not the areas where the insurgency was most active). When these regions had been organised into the centralised Siamese state in King Chulalongkorn's reign, the old local nobility had been allowed to grab large tracts of land. The end result was that by the 1960s close to 30% of the households were landless. In the early 1970s university students helped to bring some of the local protests out on to the national stage. The protests focused on land loss, high rents, the heavy handed role of the police, corruption among the bureaucracy and the local elite, poor infrastructure, and overwhelming poverty. The government agreed to establish a committee to hear peasant grief. Within a short time the committee was flooded with more than 50,000 petitions, way more that it could possibly handle. Officials called many of the peasants' demands unrealistic and too far-reaching.

The political environment of Thailand changed little during the middle '60s. Thanom and his chief deputy Praphas maintained a tight grip on power. The alliance between these two was further cemented by the marriage of Praphas's daughter to Thanom's son Ranong. By the late 1960s, however, more elements in Thai society had become openly critical of the military government which was seen as being increasingly incapable of dealing with the country's problems. It was not only the student activists, but also the business community that had begun to question the leadership of the government as well as its relationship with the United States. Thanom came under increasing pressure to loosen his grip on power when the King commented that it was time for parliament to be restored and a new constitution put into effect. After Sarit had suspended the constitution in 1958, a committee was established to write a new one, but almost ten years later, it had still not been completed. Finally in 1968 the government issued a new constitution and scheduled elections for the following year. The government party founded by the military junta won the election and Thanom remained prime minister.

Surprisingly, the Assembly was not totally tame. A number of MPs (mostly professionals such as doctors, lawyers, and journalists) began to openly challenge some of the government's policies, producing evidence of widespread government corruption on a number of large projects. As a new budget was being debated in 1971, it actually appeared that the military's demand for more funds might be voted down. Rather than suffer such a loss of face, Thanom carried out a putsch against his own government, suspended the constitution and dissolved the Parliament. Once again Thailand had been returned to absolute military rule.

This strongman approach which had worked for Phibun in 1938 and 1947, and for Sarit in 1957-58 would prove to be unsuccessful. By the early 1970s Thai society as a whole had developed a level of political awareness where it would no longer accept such unjustified authoritarian rule. The King, using various holidays to give speeches on public issues, became openly critical of the Thanom-Praphas regime. He expressed doubt on the use of extreme violence in the efforts to combat insurgency. He mentioned the widespread existence of corruption in the government and expressed the view that coups should become a thing of the past in the Thai political system. Furthermore, the junta began to face increasing opposition from within the military itself. Being preoccupied with their political roles, Thanom and Praphas had become more removed from direct control of the army. Many officers felt outraged by the rapid promotion of Narong and the fact that he seemed destined to be Thanom's successor. To these officers, it appeared that a political dynasty was being created.

References :1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000
The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 · Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 · Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 · Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

World War II : The history of Thailand from 1932 to 1973

In 1940 most of France was occupied by Nazi Germany, and Phibun immediately set out to avenge Siam's humiliations by France in 1893 and 1904 when the French limited the borders of Siam to the north by forcing a series of treaties. Luang Wichit wrote a number of popular dramas that glorified the idea of many ethnic groups belonging to one greater "Thai" empire and condemned the evils of European colonial rule. Irredentist and anti-French demonstrations were incessantly held around Bangkok, and in late 1940 border skirmishes erupted along the Mekong frontier. In 1941, the skirmishes became a small scale war between Vichy France and Thailand. The Thai forces dominated the war on the ground and in the air, but suffered a crushing naval defeat at the battle of Koh Chang. The Japanese then stepped in to mediate the conflict. The final settlement thus gave back to Thailand a number of the disputed areas in Laos and Cambodia.

Phibun's prestige was so increased that he was able to bask in a feeling of being truly the nation's leader. As if to celebrate the occasion, he promoted himself to field marshal, skipping the ranks of lieutenant general and general.
This caused a rapid deterioration of relations with the United States and Britain. In April 1941 the United States cut off petroleum supplies to Thailand. Thailand's campaign for territorial expansion came to an end on December 8, 1941 when Japan invaded the country along its southern coastline. The Phibun regime allowed the Japanese to pass through the country in order to attack Burma and invade Malaya. Convinced by the Allied defeats of early 1942 that Japan was winning the war, Phibun decide to form an actual military alliance with the Japanese.
As a reward, Japan allowed Thailand to invade and annex the Shan States in northern Burma, and to resume sovereignty over the sultanates of northern Malaya which had previously been taken away in a treaty with Britain. In January 1942 Thailand actually declared war on Britain and the United States, but the Thai Ambassador in Washington, Seni Pramoj refused to deliver it to the State Department. Instead, Seni denounced the regime as illegal and formed a Seri Thai Movement in Washington. Pridi, by now serving in the role of an apparently powerless regent, led the resistance movement inside Thailand, while Queen Ramphaiphanni was the nominal head of the movement in Great Britain.

Secret training camps were set up, the majority of them by the populist politician Tiang Sirikhanth in the northeast of the country. There were a dozen camps alone in Sakhon Nakhon Province. Secret airfields also appeared in the northeast, where Royal Air Force and United States Army Air Force planes brought in supplies, as well as Special Operations Executive, Office of Strategic Services, and Seri Thai agents; while at the same time evacuating out prisoners of war. By early 1945, Thai air force officers were performing liaison duties with South East Asia Command in Kandy and Calcutta.

By 1944 it was evident that the Japanese were going to lose the war, and their behaviour in Thailand had become increasingly arrogant. Bangkok also suffered heavily from the Allied bombing raids. This, plus the economic hardship caused by the loss of Thailand's rice export markets, made both the war and Phibun's regime very unpopular, and in July Phibun was ousted by the Seri Thai-infiltrated government. The National Assembly reconvened and appointed the liberal lawyer Khuang Aphaiwong as Prime Minister. The new government hastily evacuated the British territories that Phibun had occupied and surreptitiously aided the Seri Thai movement while at the same time maintained friendly relations with the Japanese.
The Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945. Immediately the Allied military responsibility for Thailand fell to the British. As soon as practicable, British troops were flown in and these rapidly secured the release of surviving POWs. The British were surprised to find that the disarmament of the Japanese soldiers had already been largely completed by the Thais.

The British regarded Thailand as having been partly responsible for the immeasurable damage dealt upon the Allied cause and favoured treating the kingdom as a defeated enemy, but the Americans had no great sympathy for British and French colonialism and decided to support the new government. Thailand thus received little punishment for its wartime role.

References :1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000 The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 · Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 · Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 · Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

The pursuit of nationalism in The history of Thailand from 1932 to 1973

The pursuit of nationalismThe military, now led by Major General Phibun as Defence Minister, and the civilian liberals led by Pridi as Foreign Minister, worked together harmoniously for several years, but when Phibun became prime minister in December 1938 this co-operation broke down, and military domination became more overt. Phibun was an admirer of Benito Mussolini, and his regime soon developed some fascist characteristics. In early 1939 forty political opponents, both monarchists and democrats, were arrested, and after rigged trials eighteen were executed, the first political executions in Siam in over a century. Many others, among them Prince Damrong and Phraya Songsuradej, were exiled. Phibun launched a demagogic campaign against the Chinese business class. Chinese schools and newspapers were closed, and taxes on Chinese businesses increased.

Phibun and Luang Wichitwathakan, the government's ideological spokesman, copied the propaganda techniques used by Hitler and Mussolini to build up the cult of the leader. Aware of the power of mass media, they used the government's monopoly on radio broadcasting to shape popular support for the regime. Popular government slogans were constantly aired on the radio and plastered on newspapers and billboards. Phibun's picture was also to be seen everywhere in society, while portraits of the ex-monarch King Prajadhipok, an outspoken critic of the autocratic regime, were banned. At the same time he passed a number of authoritarian laws which gave the government the power of almost unlimited arrest and complete press censorship. During the Second World War, newspapers were instructed to print only good news emanating form Axis sources, while sarcastic comments about the internal situation were banned.

Also in 1939, Phibun changed the country's name from Siam to Prathet Thai, or Thailand, meaning "land of the free." This was a nationalist gesture: it implied the unity of all the Tai-speaking peoples, including the Lao and the Shan, but excluding the Chinese. The regime's slogan became "Thailand for the Thai."
Modernisation was also an important theme in Phibun's new Thai nationalism. From 1938 to 1942 he issued a set of twelve Cultural Mandates. In addition to requiring that all Thais salute the flag, know the National Anthem, and speak the national language, the mandates also encouraged Thais to work hard, stay informed on current events, and to dress in a western fashion. By 1941 it became illegal, among other things, to ridicule those who attempted to promote national customs. The programme also encompassed the fine arts. Fiercely nationalistic plays and films were sponsored by the government. Often these depicted a glorious past when Thai warriors fearlessly gained freedom for the country, defended their honour, or sacrifice themselves. Patriotism was taught in schools and was a recurrent theme in song and dance.
At the same time, Phibun worked rigorously to rid society of its royalist influences - traditional royal holidays were replaced with new national events, royal and aristocratic titles were abandoned. Ironically, he retained his aristocratic surname. Even the Sangha was affected when the status of the royally sponsored Thammayuth sect was downgraded.

Meanwhile, all cinemas were instructed to display Phibun's picture at the end of every performance as if it were the King's portrait, and the audience were expected to rise and bow. Another aspect of Phibun's growing personality cult was becoming apparent in official décor. He was born in the year of the cock, and this symbol began to replace the wheel. Similarly Phibun's auspicious birth-colour, green, was used in official decorations.

References :1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000 The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 · Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 · Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 · Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

Internal conflict in history of Thailand from 1932 to 1973

The military came to power in the bloodless Siamese coup d'état of 1932, which transformed the government of Thailand from an absolute to a constitutional monarchy. King Prajadhipok initially accepted this change but later abdicated due to his strained relations with the government. Upon his abdication, King Prajadhipok issued a brief statement criticising the regime that included the following phrases, since often quoted by critics of Thailand's slow political development:

I am willing to surrender the powers I formerly exercised to the people as a whole, but I am not willing to turn them over to any individual or any group to use in an autocratic manner without heeding the voice of the people.

The new regime of 1932 was led by a group of colonels headed by Phraya Phahol Pholphayuhasena and Phraya Songsuradej. In December they produced a constitution, Siam's first, with a National Assembly half appointed and half indirectly elected. Full democratic elections were promised when half the population had completed primary education - expected to be sometime in the 1940s. A prime minister and Cabinet were appointed and a facade of constitutional rule was maintained.

Once the new government had been established and the constitution put into effect, conflict began to erupt among the members of the new ruling coalition. There were basically four major factions competing for power. There were the older conservative civilians led by Phraya Manopakorn Nititada, the senior military faction led by Phraya Phahol; the junior army and navy faction led by Luang Phibunsongkhram; and the young civilian faction led by Pridi Phanomyong.

The first serious conflict arose in 1933 when Pridi was given the task of drafting a new economic plan for the nation. It was a radical plan which called for the nationalisation of large amounts of farmland as well as a policy of rapid industrialisation which would be directed by the government. His plan also called for the expansion of higher education so that entry into the bureaucracy would not be completely dominated by royalty and the aristocracy. Pridi's plan was instantly condemned by most of the factions in the government as being communist.

Because of its attack on private property, the conservative clique were the ones that were most alarmed by Pridi's economic plan. They urged the Mano government to adopt policies that would reverse the course of the "revolution". When Phraya Mano attempted to do this, Phibun and Phraya Phahol launched a second coup that toppled the Mano government. Phraya Pahon became prime minister, and the new government that was formed excluded all of the royalists.
A royalist reaction came in late 1933 when Prince Bovoradej, a grandson of Mongkut and one time Minister of Defence, led an armed revolt against the government. He mobilised various provincial garrisons and marched on Bangkok, capturing the Don Muang aerodome in the process. The Prince accused the government of disrespecting the King and of promoting communism, and demanded that the government leaders resign. He had hoped that some of the garrisons in the Bangkok area would join the revolt, but they remained loyal to the government. In the meanwhile, the navy declared itself neutral and left for its bases in the south. After heavy fighting in the northern outskirts of Bangkok, the royalists were finally defeated and Prince Bovoradej left for exile in Indochina.

One effect of the repression of the insurrection was the diminishing of the King's prestige. When the revolt had broken out, Prajadhipok declared in a telegram that he regretted the strife and civil disturbances. It is not clear whether the king was motivated by fear of being captured by rebels, or by the wish to avoid have to make further choices between Phahol and Bovoradej, the fact remains that at the height of the fighting the royal couple took refuge at Songkhla. The king's withdrawal from the scene was interpreted by the victorious party as a sign that he had failed to do his duty. By refusing to throw his full support behind the government forces he had undermined his credibility.

A few months later in 1934, King Prajadhipok, whose relations with the new government had been deteriorating for some time, went abroad to receive medical treatment. While abroad, he carried on a correspondence with the government that centred on terms under which he would continue to serve as a constitutional monarch. In addition to requesting the continuation of some traditional royal prerogatives, such as the right to grant pardons, he was anxious to mitigate somehow the undemocratic nature of the new regime. The government would not agree, and so on March 2, 1935, he announced his abdication. The government then chose Prince Ananda Mahidol, who was then in school in Switzerland, to be the next king. In some eyes, the youth of the King and his absence from the country were seen as the main reasons for his selection by the promoters. For the first time in history, Siam was without a resident reigning monarch and was to remain so for the next fifteen years.

In Prajadhipok's abdication speech he accused the government of having no regard for democratic principles, employing methods of administration incompatible with individual freedom and the principles of justice, ruling in an autocratic manner and not letting the people have a real voice in Siam's affairs. As an idealistic democrat, the former king had good grounds for complaint. The Executive Committee and Cabinet did not seem eager to develop an atmosphere of debate or to be guided by resolutions of the Assembly. In 1934 a Press Act came into effect forbidding the publication of material detrimental to public order or undermining morals and the law was strictly applied. All publications had to be submitted for review and all speeches over the radio were subjected to censorship.

Reaction to the abdication was muted. Everybody was afraid of what might happen next. The government refrained from challenging any assertions in the King's abdication statement for fear of arousing further controversy. Opponents of the government kept quiet because they felt intimidated and forsaken by the King whom they regarded as the only person capable of standing up to the promoters. In other words, the absolutism of the monarchy had been replaced by that of the People's Party with the military looming in the wings as the ultimate arbiter of power. The irony of the situation does not seem to have occurred to the promoters. Even Pridi, the most idealistic among them, had demonstrated by advocating a one-party state in his original constitution that his views were far removed from western democratic concepts.
Having defeated all internal challengers, the government now was put to the test of living up to the promises on which it had come to power. To its credit, it took much more aggressive steps to carry out some important reforms. The currency went off the gold standard, allowing trade to recover. Expenditures on education was increased four-fold, thereby significantly raising the literacy rate. Elected local and provincial governments were introduced, and in November 1937 democratic development was brought forward when direct elections were held for the National Assembly, although political parties were still not allowed. Thammasat University was founded, at Pridi's initiative, as a more accessible alternative to the elitist Chulalongkorn University.

Military expenditure was also greatly expanded, a clear indication of the increasing influence of the military. In the years between 1934 and 1940 the kingdom's army, navy, and air force were equipped as never before.

References : 1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000 The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 ·
Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 ·
Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 ·
Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

History of Thailand (1932-1973)

The history of Thailand from 1932 to 1973 was dominated by the military dictatorship which was in power for much of the period. The main personalities of the period were the dictator Pibulsonggram (better known as Phibun), who allied the country with Japan during the Second World War, and the civilian politician Pridi Phanomyong, who founded Thammasat University and was briefly prime minister after the war. A succession of military dictators followed Pridi's ousting — Phibun again, Sarit Dhanarajata and Thanom Kittikachorn — under whom traditional, authoritarian rule combined with increasing modernisation and westernisation under the influence of the U.S. The end of the period was marked by Thanom's resignation, forced after a massacre of pro-democracy protesters who were led by Thammasat students.

References :
1932: Revolution in Siam by Charnvit Kasetsiri; Thammasart University Press, 2000 The End of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam by Benjamin A. Batson; Oxford University Press, 1984 History of the Thai Revolution by Thawatt Mokarapong; Thai Watana Panich Press, 1983 The Free Thai Legend by Dr. Vichitvong na Pombhejara; Saengdao, 2003 · Siam becomes Thailand by Judith A. Stowe; University of Hawaii Press, 1991 ·
Thailand: A Short History by David K. Wyatt; Yale University Press, 2004 ·
Thailand: The Politics of Despotic Paternalism by Thak Chaloemtiarana; Thammasart University Press, 1979 ·
Thailand's Secret War: OSS, SOE and the Free Thai Underground During World War II by E. Bruce Reynolds; Cambridge University Press, 2004

Bangkok period

Rama I
Rama I restored most of the social and political system of the Ayutthaya kingdom, promulgating new law codes, reinstating court ceremonies and imposing discipline on the Buddhist monkhood. His government was carried out by six great ministries headed by royal princes. Four of these administered particular territories: the Kalahom the south; the Mahatthai the north and east; the Phrakhlang the area immediately south of the capital; and the Krommueang the area around Bangkok. The other two were the ministry of lands (Krom Na) and the ministry of the royal court (Krom Wang). The army was controlled by the King's deputy and brother, the Uparat. The Burmese, seeing the disorder accompanying the overthrow of Taksin, invaded Siam again in 1785. Rama allowed them to occupy both the north and the south, but the Uparat led the Siamese army into western Siam and defeated the Burmese in a battle near Kanchanaburi. This was the last major Burmese invasion of Siam, although as late as 1802 Burmese forces had to be driven out of Lanna. In 1792 the Siamese occupied Luang Prabang and brought most of Laos under indirect Siamese rule. Cambodia was also effectively ruled by Siam. By the time of his death in 1809 Rama I had created a Siamese Empire dominating an area considerably larger than modern Thailand.

Rama II
The reign of Rama I's son Phuttaloetla Naphalai (now known as King Rama II) was relatively uneventful. The Chakri family now controlled all branches of Siamese government — since Rama I had 42 children, his brother the Uparat had 43 and Rama II had 73, there was no shortage of royal princes to staff the bureaucracy, the army, the senior monkhood and the provincial governments. (Most of these were the children of concubines and thus not eligible to inherit the throne.) There was a confrontation with Vietnam, now becoming a major power in the region, over control of Cambodia in 1813, ending with the status quo restored. But during Rama II's reign western influences again began to be felt in Siam. In 1785 the British occupied Penang, and in 1819 they founded Singapore. Soon the British displaced the Dutch and Portuguese as the main western economic and political influence in Siam. The British objected to the Siamese economic system, in which trading monopolies were held by royal princes and businesses were subject to arbitrary taxation. In 1821 the government of British India sent a mission to demand that Siam lift restrictions on free trade — the first sign of an issue which was to dominate 19th century Siamese politics

Rama III
Rama II died in 1824, and was peacefully succeeded by his son Chetsadabodin, who reigned as King Nangklao, now known as Rama III. Rama II's younger son, Mongkut, was ordered to become a monk to remove him from politics.

In 1825 the British sent another mission to Bangkok. They had by now annexed southern Burma and were thus Siam's neighbours to the west, and they were also extending their control over Malaya. The King was reluctant to give in to British demands, but his advisors warned him that Siam would meet the same fate as Burma unless the British were accommodated. In 1826, therefore, Siam concluded its first commercial treaty with a western power. Under the treaty, Siam agreed to establish a uniform taxation system, to reduce taxes on foreign trade and to abolish some of the royal monopolies. As a result, Siam's trade increased rapidly, many more foreigners settled in Bangkok, and western cultural influences began to spread. The kingdom became wealthier and its army better armed.

A Lao rebellion led by Anouvong was defeated in 1827, following which Siam destroyed Vientiane, carried out massive forced population transfers from Laos to the more securely held area of Isan, and divided the Lao mueang into smaller units to prevent another uprising. In 1842–1845 Siam waged a successful war with Vietnam, which tightened Siamese rule over Cambodia. Rama III's most visible legacy in Bangkok is the Wat Pho temple complex, which he enlarged and endowed with new temples.

Rama III regarded his brother Mongkut as his heir, although as a monk Mongkut could not openly assume this role. He used his long sojourn as a monk to acquire a western education from French and American missionaries, one of the first Siamese to do so. He learned English and Latin, and studied science and mathematics. The missionaries no doubt hoped to convert him to Christianity, but in fact he was a strict Buddhist and a Siamese nationalist. He intended using this western knowledge to strengthen and modernise Siam when he came to the throne, which he did in 1851. By the 1840s it was obvious that Siamese independence was in danger from the colonial powers: this was shown dramatically by the British Opium Wars with China in 1839–1842. In 1850 the British and Americans sent missions to Bangkok demanding the end of all restrictions on trade, the establishment of a western-style government and immunity for their citizens from Siamese law (extraterritoriality). Rama III's government refused these demands, leaving his successor with a dangerous situation. Rama III reportedly said on his deathbed: "We will have no more wars with Burma and Vietnam. We will have them only with the West."

Mongkut
Mongkut came to the throne as Rama IV in 1851, determined to save Siam from colonial domination by forcing modernisation on his reluctant subjects. But although he was in theory an absolute monarch, his power was limited. Having been a monk for 27 years, he lacked a base among the powerful royal princes, and did not have a modern state apparatus to carry out his wishes. His first attempts at reform, to establish a modern system of administration and to improve the status of debt-slaves and women, were frustrated. Rama IV thus came to welcome western pressure on Siam. This came in 1855 in the form of a mission led by the Governor of Hong Kong, Sir John Bowring, who arrived in Bangkok with demands for immediate changes, backed by the threat of force. The King readily agreed to his demand for a new treaty, which restricted import duties to 3%, abolished royal trade monopolies, and granted extraterritoriality to British subjects. Other western powers soon demanded and got similar concessions.

The king soon came to consider that the real threat to Siam came from the French, not the British. The British were interested in commercial advantage, the French in building a colonial empire. They occupied Saigon in 1859, and 1867 established a protectorate over southern Vietnam and eastern Cambodia. Rama IV hoped that the British would defend Siam if he gave them the economic concessions they demanded. In the next reign this would prove to be an illusion, but it is true that the British saw Siam as a useful buffer state between British Burma and French Indochina.

Chulalongkorn
Rama IV died in 1868, and was succeeded by his 15-year-old son Chulalongkorn, who reigned as Rama V and is now known as Rama the Great. Rama V was the first Siamese king to have a full western education, having been taught by an English governess, Anna Leonowens - whose place in Siamese history has been fictionalised as The King and I. At first Rama V's reign was dominated by the conservative regent, Chaophraya Si Suriyawongse, but when the king came of age in 1873 he soon took control. He created a Privy Council and a Council of State, a formal court system and budget office. He announced that slavery would be gradually abolished and debt-bondage restricted.

At first the princes and other conservatives successfully resisted the king's reform agenda, but as the older generation was replaced by younger and western-educated princes, resistance faded. The king could always argue that the only alternative was foreign rule. He found powerful allies in his brothers Prince Chakkraphat, whom he made finance minister, Prince Damrong, who organized interior government and education, and his brother-in-law Prince Devrawongse, foreign minister for 38 years. In 1887 Devrawonge visited Europe to study government systems. On his recommendation the king established Cabinet government, an audit office and an education department. The semi-autonomous status of Chiang Mai was ended and the army was reorganised and modernised.

In 1893 the French authorities in Indochina used a minor border dispute to provoke a crisis. French gunboats appeared at Bangkok, and demanded the cession of Lao territories east of the Mekong. The King appealed to the British, but the British minister told the King to settle on whatever terms he could get, and he had no choice but to comply. Britain's only gesture was an agreement with France guaranteeing the integrity of the rest of Siam. In exchange, Siam had to give up its claim to the Tai-speaking Shan region of north-eastern Burma to the British.

The French, however, continued to pressure Siam, and in 1906–1907 they manufactured another crisis. This time Siam had to concede French control of territory on the west bank of the Mekong opposite Luang Prabang and around Champasak in southern Laos, as well as western Cambodia. The British interceded to prevent more French bullying of Siam, but their price, in 1909 was the acceptance of British sovereignty over of Kedah, Kelantan, Perlis and Terengganu under Anglo-Siamese Treaty of 1909. All of these "lost territories" were on the fringes of the Siamese sphere of influence and had never been securely under their control, but being compelled to abandon all claim to them was a substantial humiliation to both king and country (historian David K. Wyatt describes Chulalongkorn as "broken in spirit and health" following the 1893 crisis). In the early 20th century these crises were adopted by the increasingly nationalist government as symbols of the need for the country to assert itself against the West and its neighbours.

Meanwhile, reform continued apace transforming an absolute monarchy based on relationships of power into a modern, centralised nation state. The process was increasingly under the control of Rama V's sons, who were all educated in Europe. Railways and telegraph lines united the previously remote and semi-autonomous provinces. The currency was tied to the gold standard and a modern system of taxation replaced the arbitrary exactions and labour service of the past. The biggest problem was the shortage of trained civil servants, and many foreigners had to be employed until new schools could be built and Siamese graduates produced. By 1910, when the King died, Siam had become at least a semi-modern country, and continued to escape colonial rule

Vajiravhud and the ascent of elite nationalism One of Rama V's reforms was to introduce a western-style law of royal succession, so in 1910 he was peacefully succeeded by his son Vajiravudh, who reigned as Rama VI. He had been educated at Sandhurst military academy and at Oxford, and was a thoroughly anglicised Edwardian gentleman. Indeed one of Siam's problems was the widening gap between the westernised royal family and upper aristocracy and the rest of the country. It took another 20 years for western education to extend to the rest of the bureaucracy and the army: a potential source of conflict.

There had been no political reform under Rama V: the king was still an absolute monarch, who acted as his own prime minister and staffed all the agencies of the state with his own relatives. Vajiravhud, with his British education, knew that the rest of the nation could not be excluded from government for ever, but he was no democrat. He applied his observation of the success of the British monarchy, appearing more in public and instituting more royal ceremonies. But he also carried on his father's modernisation programme. Polygamy was abolished, primary education made compulsory, and in 1916 higher education came to Siam with the founding of Chulalongkorn University, which in time became the seedbed of a new Siamese intelligentsia.
Another solution he found was to establish the Wild Tiger Corps, a paramilitary organisation of Siamese citizens of good character united to further the nation's cause. The King spent much time on the development of the movement as he saw it as an opportunity to create a bond between himself and loyal citizens; a volunteer corps willing to make sacrifices for the king and the nation.

At first the Wild Tigers were drawn from the king's personal entourage (it is likely that many joined in order to gain favour with Vajiravhud), but a genuine widespread enthusiasm rapidly arose.

Of the movement, a German observer wrote in September 1911:
This is a troop of volunteers in black uniform, drilled in a more or less military fashion, but without weapons. The British Scouts are apparently the paradigm for the Tiger Corps. In the whole country, at the most far-away places, units of this corps are being set up. One would hardly recognise the quiet and phlegmatic Siamese.

Vajiravhud's style of government differed greatly from that of his father. In the beginning of the sixth reign, the king continued to use his father's team and there was no sudden break in the daily routine of government. Much of the running of daily affairs was therefore in the hands of experienced and competent men. To them and their staff Siam owed many progressive steps, such as the development of a national plan for the education of the whole populance, the setting up of clinics where free vaccination was given against smallpox, and the continuing expansion of railways.

However, senior posts were gradually filled with one of the King's coterie when a vacancy occurred through death, retirement, or resignation. By 1915, half the cabinet consisted of new faces. Most notable was Prince Damrong's absence. He resigned from his post as Minister of the Interior officially because of ill health, but in actuality because of friction between himself and the king.

In 1917 Siam declared war on Germany, mainly to gain favour with the British and the French. Siam's token participation in World War I gained it a seat at the Versailles Peace Conference, and Foreign Minister Devrawongse used this opportunity to argue for the repeal of the 19th century treaties and the restoration of full Siamese sovereignty. The United States obliged in 1920, while France and Britain delayed until 1925. This victory gained the king some popularity, but it was soon undercut by discontent over other issues, such as his extravagance, which became more noticeable when a sharp postwar recession hit Siam in 1919. There was also the fact that the king had no son; he obviously preferred the company of men to women (a matter which of itself did not much concern Siamese opinion, but which did undermine the stability of the monarchy).

Thus when Rama VI died suddenly in 1925, aged only 44, the monarchy was already in a weakened state. He was succeeded by his younger brother Prajadhipok

Prajadhipok
Unprepared for his new responsibilities, all Prajadhipok had in his favour was a lively intelligence, a certain diplomacy in his dealings with others, a modesty and industrious willingness to learn, and the somewhat tarnished, but still potent, magic of the crown.
Unlike his predecessor, the king diligently read virtually all state papers that came his way, from ministerial submissions to petitions by citizens. Within half a year only three of Vajiravhud's twelve ministers stayed on, the rest having been replaced by members of the royal family. On the one hand, these appointments brought back men of talent and experience, on the other, it signalled a return to royal oligarchy. The King obviously wanted to demonstrate a clear break with the discredited sixth reign, and the choice of men to fill the top positions appeared to be guided largely be a wish to restore a Chulalongkorn-type government.

The initial legacy that Prajadhipok received from his elder brother were problems of the sort that had become chronic in the Sixth Reign. The most urgent of these was the economy: the finances of the state were in chaos, the budget heavily in deficit, and the royal accounts an accountant's nightmare of debts and questionable transactions. That the rest of the world was in deep economic depression following World War I did not help the situation either.
Virtually the first act of Prajadipok as king entailed an institutional innovation intended to restore confidence in the monarchy and government, the creation of the Supreme Council of the State. This privy council was made up of a number of experienced and extremely competent members of the royal family, including the long time Minister of the Interior (and Chulalongkorn's right hand man) Prince Damrong. Gradually these princes arrogated increasing power by monopolising all the main ministerial positions. Many of them felt it their duty to make amends for the mistakes of the previous reign, but it was not generally appreciated.
With the help of this council, the king managed to restore stability to the economy, although at a price of making a significant amount of the civil servants redundant and cutting the salary of those that remained. This was obviously unpopular among the officials, and was one of the trigger events for the coup of 1932.

Prajadhipok then turned his attention to the question of future politics in Siam. Inspired by the British example, the King wanted to allow the common people to have a say in the country's affair by the creation of a parliament. A proposed constitution was ordered to be drafted, but the King's wishes were rejected, perhaps wisely, by his advisers, who felt that the population was not yet ready for democracy.
In 1932, with the country deep in depression, the Supreme Council opted to introduce cuts in official spending, including the military budget. The King foresaw that these policies might create discontent, especially in the army, and he therefore convened a special meeting of officials to explain why the cuts were necessary. In his addressed he stated the following:
I myself know nothing at all about finances, and all I can do is listen to the opinions of others and choose the best... If I have made a mistake, I really deserve to be excused by the people of Siam.

No previous monarch of Siam had ever spoken in such terms. Many interpreted the speech not as Prajadhipok apparently intended, namely as a frank appeal for understanding and cooperation. They saw it as a sign of his weakness and evidence that a system which perpetuated the rule of fallible autocrats should be abolished. Serious political disturbances were threatened in the capital, and in April the king agreed to introduce a constitution under which he would share power with a prime minister. This was not enough for the radical elements in the army, however. On June 24, 1932, while the king was holidaying at the seaside, the Bangkok garrison mutinied and seized power, led by a group of 49 officers known as "the Promoters." Thus ended 150 years of Siamese absolute monarchy

References :Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

Thonburi period

In 1767, after dominating southeast Asia for almost 400 years, the Ayutthaya kingdom was brought down by invading Burmese armies, its capital burned, and its territory occupied by the invaders.

Despite its complete defeat and occupation by Burma, Siam made a rapid recovery. The resistance to Burmese rule was led by a noble of Chinese descent, Taksin, a capable military leader. Initially based at Chanthaburi in the south-east, within a year he had defeated the Burmese occupation army and re-established a Siamese state with its capital at Thonburi on the west bank of the Chao Phraya, 20 km from the sea. In 1768 he was crowned as King Taksin (now officially known as Taksin the Great). He rapidly re-united the central Thai heartlands under his rule, and in 1769 he also occupied western Cambodia. He then marched south and re-established Siamese rule over the Malay Peninsula as far south as Penang and Terengganu.

Having secured his base in Siam, Taksin attacked the Burmese in the north in 1774 and captured Chiang Mai in 1776, permanently uniting Siam and Lanna. Taksin's leading general in this campaign was Thong Duang, known by the title Chaophraya Chakri. In 1778 Chakri led a Siamese army which captured Vientiane and re-established Siamese domination over Laos.

Despite these successes, by 1779 Taksin was in political trouble at home. He seems to have developed a religious mania, alienating the powerful Buddhist monkhood by claiming to be a sotapanna or divine figure. He also attacked the Chinese merchant class, and foreign observers began to speculate that he would soon be overthrown. In 1782 Taksin sent his armies under Chakri to invade Cambodia, but while they were away a rebellion broke out in the area around the capital. The rebels, who had wide popular support, offered the throne to Chakri. Chakri marched back from Cambodia and deposed Taksin, who was secretly executed shortly after.

Chakri ruled under the name Ramathibodi (he was posthumously given the name Phutthayotfa Chulalok), but is now generally known as King Rama I, first king of the Chakri dynasty. One of his first decisions was to move the capital across the river to the village of Bang Makok (meaning "place of olive plums"), which soon became the city of Bangkok. The new capital was located on the island of Rattanakosin, protected from attack by the river to the west and by a series of canals to the north, east and south. Siam thus acquired both its current dynasty and its current capital.

References :Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

History of Thailand (1768-1932)

From 1768 to 1932 the area of modern Thailand was dominated by Siam, an absolute monarchy with capitals briefly at Thonburi and later at Rattanakosin, both in modern-day Bangkok. The first half of this period was a time of consolidation of the kingdom's power, and was punctuated by periodic conflicts with Burma, Vietnam and the Lao states. The later period was one of engagement with the colonial powers of Britain and France, in which Siam managed to be the only southeast Asian country not to be colonised by a European country. Internally the kingdom developed into a centralised nation state with borders defined by its interaction with the Western powers. Significant economic and social progress was made, with an increase in foreign trade, the abolition of slavery and the expansion of education to the emerging middle class. However, there was no substantial political reform until the monarchy was overthrown in a military coup in 1932.

References :Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

The final phase of The kingdom of Ayutthaya

The final phase Three pagodas of Wat Phra Si Sanphet which house the remains of King Borommatrailokanat, King Borommarachathirat III and King Ramathibodi IIAfter a bloody period of dynastic struggle, Ayutthaya entered into what has been called its golden age, a relatively peaceful episode in the second quarter of the eighteenth century when art, literature, and learning flourished. There were foreign wars. The Ayutthaya fought with Nguyen Lords (Vietnamese rulers of South Vietnam) for control of Cambodia starting around 1715. But a greater threat came from Burma, where the new Alaungpaya dynasty had subdued the Shan states.

In 1765 Thai territory was invaded by two Burmese armies that converged on Ayutthaya. The only notable example of successful resistance to these forces was found at the village of Bang Rajan. After a lengthy siege, the city capitulated and was burned in 1767. Ayutthaya's art treasures, the libraries containing its literature, and the archives housing its historic records were almost totally destroyed, and the city was left in ruins.
The country was reduced to chaos. Provinces were proclaimed independent states under military leaders, rogue monks, and cadet members of the royal family. The Thais were saved from Burmese subjugation, however, by an opportune Chinese invasion of Burma and by the leadership of a Thai military commander, Phraya Taksin.

All that remains of the old city are some impressive ruins of the royal palace. King Taksin established a capital at Thonburi, across the Chao Phraya from the present capital, Bangkok. The ruins of the historic city of Ayutthaya and "associated historic towns" in the Ayutthaya historical park have been listed by the UNESCO as World Heritage Sites. The city of Ayutthaya was refounded near the old city, and is now capital of the Ayutthaya province.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 .

Contacts with the West of The kingdom of Ayutthaya

In 1511 Ayutthaya received a diplomatic mission from the Portuguese, who earlier that year had conquered Malacca. These were probably the first Europeans to visit the country. Five years after that initial contact, Ayutthaya and Portugal concluded a treaty granting the Portuguese permission to trade in the kingdom. A similar treaty in 1592 gave the Dutch a privileged position in the rice trade.

Foreigners were cordially welcomed at the court of Narai (1657–1688), a ruler with a cosmopolitan outlook who was nonetheless wary of outside influence. Important commercial ties were forged with Japan. Dutch and English trading companies were allowed to establish factories, and Thai diplomatic missions were sent to Paris and The Hague. By maintaining all these ties, the Thai court skillfully played off the Dutch against the English and the French, avoiding the excessive influence of a single power.

In 1664, however, the Dutch used force to exact a treaty granting them extraterritorial rights as well as freer access to trade. At the urging of his foreign minister, the Greek adventurer Constantine Phaulkon, Narai turned to France for assistance. French engineers constructed fortifications for the Thai and built a new palace at Lopburi for Narai. In addition, French missionaries engaged in education and medicine and brought the first printing press into the country. Louis XIV's personal interest was aroused by reports from missionaries suggesting that Narai might be converted to Christianity.

The French presence encouraged by Phaulkon, however, stirred the resentment and suspicions of the Thai nobles and Buddhist clergy. When word spread that Narai was dying, a general, Phetracha, killed the designated heir, a Christian, and had Phaulkon put to death along with a number of missionaries. The arrival of English warships provoked a massacre of more Europeans. Phetracha (reigned 1688-93) seized the throne, expelled the remaining foreigners, and ushered in a 150-year period during which the Thais consciously isolated themselves from contacts with the West.

During the early 20th Century, Thailand, after learning lessons from Burma–a militarily stronger neighbour that failed to protect itself from western powerhouse Britain in 1885–mostly used flexible and significantly compromising approach towards its counterparts including numerous western nations and Japan.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 .

Economic development of The kingdom of Ayutthaya

Economic development
The Thais never lacked a rich food supply. Peasants planted rice for their own consumption and to pay taxes. Whatever remained was used to support religious institutions. From the thirteenth to the fifteenth century, however, a remarkable transformation took place in Thai rice cultivation. In the highlands, where rainfall had to be supplemented by a system of irrigation that controlled the water level in flooded paddies, the Thais sowed the glutinous rice that is still the staple in the geographical regions of the North and Northeast. But in the floodplain of the Chao Phraya, farmers turned to a different variety of rice--the so-called floating rice, a slender, nonglutinous grain introduced from Bengal--that would grow fast enough to keep pace with the rise of the water level in the lowland fields.

The new strain grew easily and abundantly, producing a surplus that could be sold cheaply abroad. Ayutthaya, situated at the southern extremity of the floodplain, thus became the hub of economic activity. Under royal patronage, corvee labor dug canals on which rice was brought from the fields to the king's ships for export to China. In the process, the Chao Phraya Delta--mud flats between the sea and firm land hitherto considered unsuitable for habitation--was reclaimed and placed under cultivation.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 (ISBN 9971-77-491-7).

Social and political development in The kingdom of Ayutthaya

Social and political developmentThe king stood at the apex of a highly stratified social and political hierarchy that extended throughout the society. In Ayutthayan society the basic unit of social organization was the village community composed of extended family households. Generally the elected headmen provided leadership for communal projects. Title to land resided with the headman, who held it in the name of the community, although peasant proprietors enjoyed the use of land as long as they cultivated it.

With ample reserves of land available for cultivation, the viability of the state depended on the acquisition and control of adequate manpower for farm labor and defense. The dramatic rise of Ayutthaya had entailed constant warfare and, as none of the parties in the region possessed a technological advantage, the outcome of battles was usually determined by the size of the armies. After each victorious campaign, Ayutthaya carried away a number of conquered people to its own territory, where they were assimilated and added to the labor force.

Every freeman had to be registered as a servant, or phrai, with the local lord, or nai, for military service and corvee labor on public works and on the land of the official to whom he was assigned. The phrai could also meet his labor obligation by paying a tax. If he found the forced labor under his nai repugnant, he could sell himself into slavery to a more attractive nai, who then paid a fee to the government in compensation for the loss of corvee labor. As much as one-third of the manpower supply into the nineteenth century was composed of phrai.

Wealth, status, and political influence were interrelated. The king allotted rice fields to governors, military commanders, and court officials in payment for their services to the crown, according to the sakdi na system. The size of each official's allotment was determined by the number of persons he could command to work it. The amount of manpower a particular nai could command determined his status relative to others in the hierarchy and his wealth. At the apex of the hierarchy, the king, who was the realm's largest landholder, also commanded the services of the largest number of phrai, called phrai luang (royal servants), who paid taxes, served in the royal army, and worked on the crown lands. King Trailok established definite allotments of land and phrai for the royal officials at each rung in the hierarchy, thus determining the country's social structure until the introduction of salaries for government officials in the nineteenth century.

Outside this system to some extent were the Buddhist monkhood, or sangha, which all classes of Siamese men could join, and the Chinese. Buddhist monasteries (wats) became the centres of Siamese education and culture, while during this period the Chinese first began to settle in Siam, and soon began to establish control over the country's economic life: another long-standing social problem. The Chinese were not obliged to register for corvee duty, so they were free to move about the kingdom at will and engage in commerce. By the sixteenth century, the Chinese controlled Ayutthaya's internal trade and had found important places in the civil and military service. Most of these men took Thai wives because few women left China to accompany the men.

Ramathibodi I was responsible for the compilation of the Dharmashastra, a legal code based on Hindu sources and traditional Thai custom. The Dharmashastra remained a tool of Thai law until late in the 19th century. A bureaucracy based on a hierarchy of ranked and titled officials was introduced, and society was organised in a manner reminiscent of, though not as strict as, the Indian caste system.
The sixteenth century witnessed the rise of Burma, which, under an aggressive dynasty, had overrun Chiang Mai and Laos and made war on the Thai. In 1569 Burmese forces, joined by Thai rebels mostly royal family members of Siam, captured the city of Ayutthaya and carried off the whole royal family to Burma. Dhammaraja (1569-90), a Thai governor who had aided the Burmese, was installed as vassal king at Ayutthaya. Thai independence was restored by his son, King Naresuan (1590- 1605), who turned on the Burmese and by 1600 had driven them from the country.

Determined to prevent another treason like his father's, Naresuan set about unifying the country's administration directly under the royal court at Ayutthaya. He ended the practice of nominating royal princes to govern Ayutthaya's provinces, assigning instead court officials who were expected to execute policies handed down by the king. Thereafter royal princes were confined to the capital. Their power struggles continued, but at court under the king's watchful eye.

In order to ensure his control over the new class of governors, Naresuan decreed that all freemen subject to phrai service had become phrai luang, bound directly to the king, who distributed the use of their services to his officials. This measure gave the king a theoretical monopoly on all manpower, and the idea developed that since the king owned the services of all the people, he also possessed all the land. Ministerial offices and governorships--and the sakdi na that went with them--were usually inherited positions dominated by a few families often connected to the king by marriage. Indeed, marriage was frequently used by Thai kings to cement alliances between themselves and powerful families, a custom prevailing through the nineteenth century. As a result of this policy, the king's wives usually numbered in the dozens.
Even with Naresuan's reforms, the effectiveness of the royal government over the next 150 years should not be overestimated. Royal power outside the crown lands--although in theory absolute- -was in practice limited by the looseness of the civil administration. The influence of central government ministers was not extensive beyond the capital until the late nineteenth century.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 (ISBN 9971-77-491-7).

Thai kingship in The kingdom of Ayutthaya

Thai rulers were absolute monarchs whose office was partly religious in nature. They derived their authority from the ideal qualities they were believed to possess. The king was the moral model, who personified the virtue of his people, and his country lived at peace and prospered because of his meritorious actions. At Sukhothai, where Ramkhamhaeng was said to hear the petition of any subject who rang the bell at the palace gate to summon him, the king was revered as a father by his people. But the paternal aspects of kingship disappeared at Ayutthaya, where, under Khmer influence, the monarchy withdrew behind a wall of taboos and rituals. The king was considered chakkraphat, the Sanskrit-Pali term for the chakravartin who through his adherence to the law made all the world revolve around him. As the Hindu god Shiva was "lord of the universe," the Thai king also became by analogy "lord of the land," distinguished in his appearance and bearing from his subjects. According to the elaborate court etiquette, even a special language, Phasa Rachasap, was used to communicate with or about royalty.

As devaraja (Sanskrit for "divine king"), the king ultimately came to be recognized as the earthly incarnation of Shiva and became the object of a politico-religious cult officiated over by a corps of royal Brahmans who were part of the Buddhist court retinue. In the Buddhist context, the devaraja was a bodhisattva (an enlightened being who, out of compassion, foregoes nirvana in order to aid others). The belief in divine kingship prevailed into the eighteenth century, although by that time its religious implications had limited impact. The French Abbe de Choisy, who came to Ayutthaya in 1685, wrote that, "the king has absolute power. He is truly the god of the Siamese: no-one dares to utter his name." Another 17th century writer, the Dutchman Van Vliet, remarked that the King of Siam was "honoured and worshipped by his subjects more than a god."

One of the numerous institutional innovations of King Trailok (1448-88) was to adopt the position of uparaja, translated as "viceroy" or "underking", usually held by the king's senior son or full brother, in an attempt to regularize the succession to the throne -- a particularly difficult feat for a polygamous dynasty. In practice, there was inherent conflict between king and uparaja and frequent disputed successions.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 (ISBN 9971-77-491-7).

The kingdom of Ayutthaya

The kingdom of Ayutthaya (Thai: อยุธยา) was a Thai kingdom that existed from 1350 to 1767. King Ramathibodi I (Uthong) founded Ayutthaya as the capital of his kingdom in 1350 and absorbed Sukhothai, 640 km to the north, in 1376. Over the next four centuries the kingdom expanded to become the nation of Siam, whose borders were roughly those of modern Thailand, except for the north, the Kingdom of Lannathai. Ayutthaya was friendly towards foreign traders, including the Chinese, Indians, Japanese and Persians, and later the Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, British and French, permitting them to set up villages outside the city walls. The court of King Narai (1656-1688) had strong links with that of King Louis XIV of France, whose ambassadors compared the city in size and wealth to Paris.

Historical overview
The Siamese state based at Ayutthaya in the valley of the Chao Phraya River grew from the earlier kingdom of Lopburi, which it absorbed, and its rise continued the steady shift southwards of the centre of gravity of the Tai-speaking peoples. U Thong was an adventurer allegedly descended from a rich Chinese merchant family who married royalty. In 1350, to escape the threat of an epidemic, he moved his court south into the rich floodplain of the Chao Phraya. On an island in the river he founded a new capital, which he called Ayutthaya, after Ayodhya in northern India, the city of the hero Rama in the Hindu epic Ramayana. U Thong assumed the royal name of Ramathibodi (1350-69).

Ramathibodi tried to unify his kingdom. In 1360 he declared Theravada Buddhism the official religion of Ayutthaya and brought members of a sangha, a Buddhist monastic community, from Ceylon to establish new religious orders and spread the faith among his subjects. He also compiled a legal code, based on the Indian Dharmashastra (a Hindu legal text) and Thai custom, which became the basis of royal legislation. Composed in Pali -- an Indo-Aryan language closely related to Sanskrit and the language of the Theravada Buddhist scriptures -- it had the force of divine injunction. Supplemented by royal decrees, Ramathibodi's legal code remained generally in force until the late nineteenth century.

By the end of the fourteenth century, Ayutthaya was regarded as the strongest power in southeast Asia, but it lacked the manpower to dominate the region. In the last year of his reign, Ramathibodi had seized Angkor during what was to be the first of many successful Thai assaults on the Khmer capital. The policy was aimed at securing Ayutthaya's eastern frontier by preempting Vietnamese designs on Khmer territory. The weakened Khmer periodically submitted to Ayutthaya's suzerainty, but efforts to maintain control over Angkor were repeatedly frustrated. Thai troops were frequently diverted to suppress rebellions in Sukhothai or to campaign against Chiang Mai, where Ayutthaya's expansion was tenaciously resisted. Eventually Ayutthaya subdued the territory that had belonged to Sukhothai, and the year after Ramathibodi died, his kingdom was recognized by the emperor of China's newly established Ming Dynasty as Sukhothai's rightful successor.

The Thai kingdom was not a single, unified state but rather a patchwork of self-governing principalities and tributary provinces owing allegiance to the king of Ayutthaya under the mandala system. These states were ruled by members of the royal family of Ayutthaya who had their own armies and warred among themselves. The king had to be vigilant to prevent royal princes from combining against him or allying with Ayutthaya's enemies. Whenever the succession was in dispute, princely governors gathered their forces and moved on the capital to press their claims.

During much of the fifteenth century Ayutthaya's energies were directed toward the Malay Peninsula, where the great trading port of Malacca contested its claims to sovereignty. Malacca and other Malay states south of Tambralinga had become Muslim early in the century, and thereafter Islam served as a symbol of Malay solidarity against the Thais. Although it failed to make a vassal state of Malacca, Ayutthaya continued to control the lucrative trade on the isthmus, which attracted Chinese traders of specialty goods for the luxury markets of China.

References : Original text adapted from the LOC Country Study of Thailand From Isfahan to Ayutthaya: Contacts between Iran and Siam in the 17th Century, M. Ismail Marcinkowski, Singapore: Pustaka Nasional, 2005 .

Lanna


Lanna (English One Million Thai Rice Fields, Thai: ล้านนา) was a kingdom in the north of Thailand around the city of Chiang Mai. It consisted of several partly independent city-states.
The kingdom was founded in 1259 by King Mengrai the Great, when he succeeded his father as the leader of the Chiang Saen kingdom. In 1262 he founded the city Chiang Rai as his capital, naming it after himself. The kingdom quickly grew by unifying the many local Thai rulers of the area under his leadership, as well as by enlarging to the south by annexing the Mon kingdom of Haripunchai in 1292 - the area around the modern-day cities Lampang and Lamphun. In 1296 he founded the city of Chiang Mai as the new capital of the kingdom with help from allies Ngam Muang of Phayao and Ramkhamhaeng of Sukhothai.

The golden age of Lanna was in the 15th century. In 1477 the 8th Buddhist council was held near Chiang Mai, which worked on improving the Buddhist scriptures. The previously independent city-state Nan, capital of a Thai Lue people, was added to the kingdom in 1449.
The decline of the kingdom started in the early 16th century, and became worse after the death of King Phraya Kaeo in 1526. There was fighting over who should succeed him. Some of the kings were assassinated; others had to abdicate. This political instability invited an invasion from the neighboring Burmese kingdom, and in 1558 Lanna had to surrender and thus became a vassal of Burma. When the dynasty of Mengrai became extinct in 1578, the Burmese sent their own princes to serve as rulers of Lanna.

The Thai kings of Ayutthaya tried to capture Lanna several times, as the Burmese posed a threat to their kingdom as well. Even though around 1600 King Naresuan, and later in 1662 King Narai as well, succeeded in occupying Chiang Mai, they were repulsed by the Burmese after a short time.

In the early 1700s the Burmese divided the kingdom into a northern part, ruled from Chiang Saen, and a southern part, ruled from Chiang Mai. The northern part was for all practical purposes annexed by Burma, while the southern continued to be a vassal state.

After the Burmese destroyed Ayutthaya, King Taksin drove the Burmese out of Siam or Central Thailand. In the North, King Taksin helped Prince Kawila of Lampang to successfully drove out the Burmese. In the night of February 14, 1775 Chiang Mai fell to the Thai. Prince Kawila became the first King of Lanna under Siamese rulership. King Rama I after ascending to the throne, awarded Kawila with more power, Kawila become the King of the Northern Kingdom who ruled 57 cities. The two monarchs has become more closed. Not only Princess Sri Anocha, King Kawila's sister, married to Crown Prince Boonma, King Rama I's only brother, but Princess Dararasmi, King Inthawichayanon's daughter also become King Rama V's Princess Consort. In 1877 a Viceroy from Bangkok was sending to help the King. In 1892 Lanna was formally annexed by Siam, and administrated as the Monthon Phayap. The last of the Lannathai kings, Kaew Naovarat, never held any true administrative power. Upon his death in 1939, no successor was named to replace him.
References :Hans Penth - A brief history of Lan Na,
Michael Freeman - Lanna, Thailand's Northern Kingdom,
David K. Wyatt, Aroonrut Wichienkeeo - The Chiang Mai Chronicle,
Kampee Kampeerayannon, GP CAPT - Royal Family of Northern Thai Kingdom, http://www.globalgroup.in.th/encyclopedia_lanna.html

Sukhothai Kingdom




The Sukhothai kingdom was an early kingdom in the area around the city Sukhothai, in north central Thailand. It existed from 1238 till 1438. The old capital, now 12 km outside of New Sukhothai in Tambon Muang Kao, is in ruins and is a Historical Park.


Chiang Saen was established in the early 700 AD's at the same time, Muang Sua (Loungprabang) was established around 728 AD. Making Chiang Saen and Loungprabang the first Kingdoms established by the Tai speaking ppl in Southeast Asia. Precourser to the migration and expansion of the Tai speaking people into Northern Thailand, Laos, and eventually into Central Thailand and Central Laos.
The city of Sukhothai was part of the great Khmer empire until 1238, when two Thai chieftains, Pho Khun Pha Muang and Pho Khun Bang Klang Hao, declared their independence and established a Thai-ruled kingdom. Pho Khun Bang Klang Hao later became the first king of Sukhothai, calling himself Pho Khun Si Indrathit (or Intradit). This event traditionally marks the founding of the modern Thai nation, although other less well-known Thai kingdoms, such as Lanna, Phayao and Chiang Saen, were established around the same time.
Sukhothai expanded by forming alliances with the other Thai kingdoms, adopting Theravada Buddhism as the state religion with the help of Ceylonese monks. Intradit was succeeded by his son Pho Khun Ban Muang, who was followed in 1278 by his brother, Pho Khun Ramkhamhaeng. Under King Ramkhamhaeng the Great, as he is now known, Sukhothai enjoyed a golden age of prosperity. Ramkhamhaeng is credited with designing the Thai alphabet (traditionally dated from 1283, on the evidence of the controversial Ramkhamhaeng stele, an inscribed stone allegedly bearing the earliest known Thai writing). At its peak, supposedly stretching from Martaban (now in Burma) to Luang Prabang (now in Laos) and down the Malay Peninsula as far south as Nakhon Si Thammarat, the kingdom's sphere of influence was larger than that of modern Thailand, although the degree of control exercised over outlying areas was variable.
After Ramkhamhaeng's death, he was succeeded by his son Loethai. The vassal kingdoms, first Uttaradit in the north, then soon after the Laotian kingdoms of Luang Prabang and Vientiane (Wiangchan), liberated themselves from their overlord. In 1319 the Mon state to the west broke away, and in 1321 Lanna placed Tak, one of the oldest towns under the control of Sukhothai, under its control. To the south the powerful city of Suphanburi also broke free early in the reign of Loethai. Thus the kingdom was quickly reduced to its former local importance only. Meanwhile, Ayutthaya rose in strength, and finally in 1378 King Thammaracha II had to submit to this new power.
Replica of Silajaruek Pokhun RamkamhaengThe Silajaruek Sukhothai are hundreds of stone inscriptions that form a historical record of the period. Among the most important inscriptions are Silajaruek Pho Khun Ramkamhaeng (Stone Inscription of King Ramkamhaeng), Silajaruek Wat Srichum (an account on history of the region itself and of Srilanka), and Silajaruek Wat Pamamuang (a Politico-Religious record of King Loethai).
Sukhothai became a tributary state of Ayutthaya between 1365 and 1378. In 1412 Ayutthaya installed a chief resident, and King Thammaracha IV was installed on the throne by Ayutthaya. Around 1430 Thammaracha moved his capital to Phitsanulok, and after his death in 1438 the kingdom was reduced in status to a mere province of Ayutthaya
References : Wikipedia

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

History Thai





Different indigenous cultures have existed in Thailand since the time of the Baan Chiang culture. However, due to its geographical location, Thai culture has always been greatly influenced by China and India as well as other neighboring cultures. However, the first Siamese/Thai state is traditionally considered to be the Buddhist kingdom of Sukhothai founded in 1238, following the decline and fall of the Khmer Empire in the 13th - 15th century. A century later, Sukhothai's power was overshadowed by the larger Siamese kingdom of Ayutthaya, established in the mid-14th century. After Ayutthaya sacked Angkor itself in 1431, much of the Khmer court and its Hindu customs were brought to Ayuthaya, and Khmer customs and rituals were adopted into the courtly culture of Siam.

After Ayuthaya fell in 1767, Thonburi was the capital of Thailand for a brief period under King Taksin the Great. The current (Ratthanakosin) era of Thai history began in 1782 following the establishment of Bangkok as capital of the Chakri dynasty under King Rama I the Great. European powers began traveling to Thailand in the 16th century. Despite European pressure, Thailand is the only Southeast Asian country never to have been colonized by a European power. The two main reasons for this is that Thailand had a long succession of very able rulers in the 1800s and that it was able to utilise the rivalry and tension between the French and the British. As a result, the country remained as a buffer state between parts of Southeast Asia that were colonised by the two colonial powers. Despite this, Western influence led to many reforms in the 19th century and major concessions to British trading interests. This included the loss of the three southern provinces, which later became Malaysia's three northern states. In 1932, a bloodless revolution resulted in a new constitutional monarchy. During the war, Thailand was allied with Japan. Yet after the war, it became an ally of the United States. Thailand then went through a series of coups d'état, but eventually progressed towards democracy in the 1980s.
In 1997, Thailand was hit with the Asian financial crisis and the Thai baht was soon worth 56 baht to the U.S. Dollar compared to about 25 baht to the dollar before 1997. Since then the baht has regained some strength and currently trades around 36-39 baht to the dollar. The official calendar in Thailand is based on Eastern version of the Buddhist Era, which is 543 years ahead of the Gregorian (western) calendar. For example, the year 2007 AD is called 2550 BE in Thailand.

References :Thongchai Winichakul. Siam Mapped. University of Hawaii Press, 1984.

Wyatt, David. Thailand: A Short History (2nd edition). Yale University Press, 2003.

thailand



The Kingdom of Thailand lies in Southeast Asia, with Laos and Cambodia to its east, the Gulf of Thailand and Malaysia to its south, and the Andaman Sea and Myanmar to its west. The country's official name was Siam (Thai: สยาม; IPA: [saˈjaːm], RTGS: Sayam) until 24 June 1939. [1] It was again called Siam between 1945 and May 11, 1949, when it was once again changed by official proclamation. The word Thai (ไทย) means "freedom" in the Thai language and is also the name of the majority ethnic group.

References : Wikipedia