Sufficiency Economy is Philosophy or Economy System ?
by Darksingha
What is Sufficiency Economy ? Between are Philosophy or Economy System or both. Unofficial translation from major trend of Thai Social(read about Thai Social at www.inthadark.bloggang.com ) that is to say Sufficiency Economy is Philosophy that emphasizes the middle path as an overriding principle for appropriate conduct by the populace at all levels as level of individuals, family, communities, nation in development and administration so as to modernize in line with the forces of globalization.
If consider only Sufficiency that don’t different with the Sufficiency Economy because Sufficiency in major trend is moderation, reasonableness and need of self-immunity for sufficient protection from impact arising from internal and external changes. To achieve this, an application of knowledge with due consideration and prudence is essential. In particular great care is needed in the utilization of theories and methodologies for planning and implementation in every step. At the same time, it is essential to strengthen the moral fibre of the nation, so that everyone, particularly public officials, academics, businessman at all level, adheres first and foremost to the principles of honesty and integrity. In addition, a way of life based on patience, perseverance, diligence, wisdom and prudence is indispensable to create balance and be able to cope appropriately with critical challenges arising from extensive and rapid socioeconomic, environmental, and cultural changes in the world.
From the means of Sufficiency Economy and Sufficiency therefore is a philosophy or way of a person in the individual level more than the Economy system because economic system is a mechanism (social institution) which deals with the production, distribution and consumption of goods and services in a particular society. The economic system is composed of people, institutions and their relationships to resources, such as the convention of property. It addresses the problems of economics, like the allocation and scarcity of resources
And the Sufficiency Economy in major trend of Thai Social don’t say structure relations in economic system between human with human, human with socioeconomic that still ability to appropriate surplus value of the stratified that is near center of power in The World Stratified Society. So the Sufficiency Economy in major trend of Thai Social therefore is Political Discourse that the major trend or liberal capitalist economy can appropriate explanation in social as though Sufficiency Economy is capital economy that have moral.
*can read article that concerning at www.asiaarticle.blogspot.com and www.aboutasean.blogspot.com
Monday, June 18, 2007
Confronting the Military in Thailand
Confronting the Military in Thailand
Monday, Jun. 11, 2007
By HANNAH BEECH/BANGKOK
Protests against Thailand's ruling junta spilled onto Bangkok streets over the weekend, with an estimated 13,000 demonstrators calling for the resignation of the military leaders who masterminded a bloodless coup against Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra last September. The marches were the largest show of dissatisfaction to date against coup architect Gen. Sonthi Boonyaratglin and junta-appointed Prime Minister Surayud Chulanont. While the bulk of the protesters came from within Thaksin's followers, they also included a wide range of other interest groups, a worrisome sign for a government already under scrutiny from overseas investors and businessmen worried about the kingdom's stability. The fear is that the tensions between civilian protesters and the military government could explode in violence and even further damage Thailand's image and prosperity.
The political situation was exacerbated late last month when a tribunal hand-picked by the junta dissolved Thailand's largest political party — Thai Rak Thai (TRT), which had been founded by billionaire Thaksin — as punishment for committing electoral fraud. Although the ruling generals have promised to hold elections by the end of this year, removing the nation's most popular party from contention threw Thailand's democratic future further into question. Indeed, during the weekend marches, emotions overflowed and a few demonstrators clashed with police, even beating up an ex-Senator who had been critical of Thaksin. On Sunday, the junta blamed the TRT party leadership for the violence, urging the group's large and mostly rural electoral base to respect the ban on their party.
But the rallies spanned a far wider spectrum than just Thaksin acolytes. Democracy advocates have taken to the streets to decry the use of army tanks over ballot boxes. Anti-poverty campaigners who claim the junta has not adequately addressed the plight of Thailand's rural poor have raised their voices, as have employees of community-radio stations banned from the airwaves by the junta. Legal activists, including a veteran former judge, have condemned what they believe is deteriorating judicial freedom under the military leadership. And Buddhists, who are upset that their faith was not designated as the national religion in the draft of the post-coup constitution, have also rallied against the military government. "The anti-junta coalition has gathered critical mass," warns Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a political scientist at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. "This is a pent-up situation, and it's going to get worse."
Certainly, the anti-coup movement makes for peculiar bedfellows. One of the mobilizers of the weekend protest was Weng Tojirakan, a respected democracy activist who had been vociferous in his criticism of Thaksin before the military overthrow. "I do not support Mr. Thaksin, but the junta destroyed democracy," Weng says. "The junta is a monster and is evil, even more than Mr. Thaksin."
The interim government has also drawn criticism for failing to quickly prove corruption by the former P.M., even though his alleged graft was a major rationale the generals gave for staging their putsch. (On Monday evening, a junta-appointed investigative committee announced it had ordered the freezing of Thaksin's domestic bank accounts, estimated at more than $1 billion.) More generally, many Thais blame the coup leaders for a series of economic missteps that dented Thailand's international reputation, as well as for scrapping the previous constitution and presenting a new draft that drew little from public consultation.
The anti-junta coalition has vowed to continue holding protests until the coup leaders resign. On Monday, 5,000 Buddhists thronged in front of the Thai Parliament, some participating in a hunger strike to draw attention to their call for a state faith. It's unlikely, however, that this coterie of generals will bend to such wishes — or relinquish their own power so easily.
More possible, perhaps, is either a counter-coup against the interim government — hardly a confidence-booster for believers in Thai democracy — or heightened clashes between anti-junta protestors and army troops. In a worrisome precedent, similar pro-democracy marches back in 1992 ended with soldiers firing on unarmed protestors, killing dozens. "To be fair to the military, they have been disciplined and patient so far, but for how long?" asks political scientist Thitinan. "They are trained to respond by force. If it turns more violent, it will be bad for Thailand economically — and for how it is viewed by the world." With reporting by Robert Horn/Bangkok
from : www.time.com
Monday, Jun. 11, 2007
By HANNAH BEECH/BANGKOK
Protests against Thailand's ruling junta spilled onto Bangkok streets over the weekend, with an estimated 13,000 demonstrators calling for the resignation of the military leaders who masterminded a bloodless coup against Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra last September. The marches were the largest show of dissatisfaction to date against coup architect Gen. Sonthi Boonyaratglin and junta-appointed Prime Minister Surayud Chulanont. While the bulk of the protesters came from within Thaksin's followers, they also included a wide range of other interest groups, a worrisome sign for a government already under scrutiny from overseas investors and businessmen worried about the kingdom's stability. The fear is that the tensions between civilian protesters and the military government could explode in violence and even further damage Thailand's image and prosperity.
The political situation was exacerbated late last month when a tribunal hand-picked by the junta dissolved Thailand's largest political party — Thai Rak Thai (TRT), which had been founded by billionaire Thaksin — as punishment for committing electoral fraud. Although the ruling generals have promised to hold elections by the end of this year, removing the nation's most popular party from contention threw Thailand's democratic future further into question. Indeed, during the weekend marches, emotions overflowed and a few demonstrators clashed with police, even beating up an ex-Senator who had been critical of Thaksin. On Sunday, the junta blamed the TRT party leadership for the violence, urging the group's large and mostly rural electoral base to respect the ban on their party.
But the rallies spanned a far wider spectrum than just Thaksin acolytes. Democracy advocates have taken to the streets to decry the use of army tanks over ballot boxes. Anti-poverty campaigners who claim the junta has not adequately addressed the plight of Thailand's rural poor have raised their voices, as have employees of community-radio stations banned from the airwaves by the junta. Legal activists, including a veteran former judge, have condemned what they believe is deteriorating judicial freedom under the military leadership. And Buddhists, who are upset that their faith was not designated as the national religion in the draft of the post-coup constitution, have also rallied against the military government. "The anti-junta coalition has gathered critical mass," warns Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a political scientist at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. "This is a pent-up situation, and it's going to get worse."
Certainly, the anti-coup movement makes for peculiar bedfellows. One of the mobilizers of the weekend protest was Weng Tojirakan, a respected democracy activist who had been vociferous in his criticism of Thaksin before the military overthrow. "I do not support Mr. Thaksin, but the junta destroyed democracy," Weng says. "The junta is a monster and is evil, even more than Mr. Thaksin."
The interim government has also drawn criticism for failing to quickly prove corruption by the former P.M., even though his alleged graft was a major rationale the generals gave for staging their putsch. (On Monday evening, a junta-appointed investigative committee announced it had ordered the freezing of Thaksin's domestic bank accounts, estimated at more than $1 billion.) More generally, many Thais blame the coup leaders for a series of economic missteps that dented Thailand's international reputation, as well as for scrapping the previous constitution and presenting a new draft that drew little from public consultation.
The anti-junta coalition has vowed to continue holding protests until the coup leaders resign. On Monday, 5,000 Buddhists thronged in front of the Thai Parliament, some participating in a hunger strike to draw attention to their call for a state faith. It's unlikely, however, that this coterie of generals will bend to such wishes — or relinquish their own power so easily.
More possible, perhaps, is either a counter-coup against the interim government — hardly a confidence-booster for believers in Thai democracy — or heightened clashes between anti-junta protestors and army troops. In a worrisome precedent, similar pro-democracy marches back in 1992 ended with soldiers firing on unarmed protestors, killing dozens. "To be fair to the military, they have been disciplined and patient so far, but for how long?" asks political scientist Thitinan. "They are trained to respond by force. If it turns more violent, it will be bad for Thailand economically — and for how it is viewed by the world." With reporting by Robert Horn/Bangkok
from : www.time.com
Thailand's Trouble with Islamists
Friday, Jun. 08, 2007
By HANNAH BEECH
With its powder-soft beaches and golden-spired Buddhist temples, Thailand markets itself as a tourist haven. But the Southeast Asian nation has another side it would rather visitors not see: an Islamic insurgency in the country's far south that has claimed more than 2,100 lives since 2004. On May 31, a dozen paramilitary rangers were killed in an ambush. The following weekend, two civilians were shot dead, and 20 soccer players were injured by an on-field bomb.
Although Thailand is predominantly Buddhist, millions of Muslims live in the country's three southernmost provinces, which Thailand annexed a century ago. An insurgency has simmered for three years, with some militants calling for an independent homeland. Many Thai Muslims have long felt marginalized by the Buddhist majority, and the sense of alienation may get a lot worse. This spring, thousands of Buddhist monks took to Bangkok's streets clamoring for their beliefs to be designated in the constitution as Thailand's sole state religion. On June 4, charter writers rejected the call for an official faith, but growing pro-Buddhist (and, by extension, anti-Muslim) sentiment could doom the new constitution when it faces a referendum in August.
The mounting body count in the south dashes hopes that last September's military coup might ease the crisis, because junta leader General Sonthi Boonyaratglin is a Muslim. Since the putsch, violence has worsened. On June 4, insurgents were blamed for a train derailment that caused the entire railway network in the south to grind to a halt. With no end in sight to the conflict, Thailand's government will have to work even harder to keep the violence from distracting the tourist trade.
from : www.time.com
By HANNAH BEECH
With its powder-soft beaches and golden-spired Buddhist temples, Thailand markets itself as a tourist haven. But the Southeast Asian nation has another side it would rather visitors not see: an Islamic insurgency in the country's far south that has claimed more than 2,100 lives since 2004. On May 31, a dozen paramilitary rangers were killed in an ambush. The following weekend, two civilians were shot dead, and 20 soccer players were injured by an on-field bomb.
Although Thailand is predominantly Buddhist, millions of Muslims live in the country's three southernmost provinces, which Thailand annexed a century ago. An insurgency has simmered for three years, with some militants calling for an independent homeland. Many Thai Muslims have long felt marginalized by the Buddhist majority, and the sense of alienation may get a lot worse. This spring, thousands of Buddhist monks took to Bangkok's streets clamoring for their beliefs to be designated in the constitution as Thailand's sole state religion. On June 4, charter writers rejected the call for an official faith, but growing pro-Buddhist (and, by extension, anti-Muslim) sentiment could doom the new constitution when it faces a referendum in August.
The mounting body count in the south dashes hopes that last September's military coup might ease the crisis, because junta leader General Sonthi Boonyaratglin is a Muslim. Since the putsch, violence has worsened. On June 4, insurgents were blamed for a train derailment that caused the entire railway network in the south to grind to a halt. With no end in sight to the conflict, Thailand's government will have to work even harder to keep the violence from distracting the tourist trade.
from : www.time.com
Thaksin Ups the Ante for Thailand's Generals
Thursday, Jun. 14, 2007
By HANNAH BEECH/BANGKOK
Enlarge Photo
SHOW OF FORCE: An anti-junta rally in Bangkok on June 11
Hoang Dinh Nam / AFP / Getty Images
Having dubbed itself the land of Smiles, Thailand tends to go out of its way to avoid confrontation. The capital's infamous traffic jams, for instance, rarely lead to the kind of road rage that strikes other cities. Yet this past week, the Southeast Asian kingdom showed the world a rather less peaceful visage. Protests against Thailand's ruling junta spilled onto Bangkok streets last weekend, with an estimated 13,000 demonstrators calling for the resignation of the generals who masterminded a bloodless coup against Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra last September. The marches, which sometimes erupted in clashes with the police, were the largest show of dissatisfaction to date against the military government led by the coup's architect, General Sonthi Boonyaratglin.
Thaksin, who has lived in exile since his ouster, quickly upped the confrontational ante. On June 11, a government-appointed investigative committee announced it had ordered the freezing of $1.6 billion in domestic bank deposits belonging to the former tycoon and his family, alleging corruption in several government projects overseen by Thaksin. The exiled leader, who has denied any wrongdoing, suggested the following day that he may return to Thailand to fight the charges—and perhaps re-enter politics. The prospective homecoming of Thaksin is likely to inflame tensions between civilian protestors and the military government, further damaging the country's international image and its hopes for stability. "[Thaksin's] return will raise the likelihood of violence," says Sunai Phasuk, the Thailand representative for New York-based Human Rights Watch. "We are heading for political upheaval."
Most of last weekend's demonstrators were from Thaksin's fan base, which draws largely from the rural poor. Many expressed anger at a tribunal, handpicked by the junta, which had dissolved Thaksin's Thai Rak Thai (TRT) party for committing electoral fraud in last year's polls. In their defense, the ruling generals have promised to hold elections by the end of this year, and they point out that their putsch was met with almost no public outcry. That's true: Thaksin's popularity had nosedived by the end of his tenure, in part because of his autocratic style, and street protests against him last year still dwarf the current rallies against the junta.
On Sunday, the junta blamed the TRT party leadership for the protests, later hinting that cash handouts had lured many poor citizens to the demonstrations. But the anti-junta rallies span a wider spectrum than just Thaksin's supporters. Democracy advocates took to the streets to decry the September coup. Anti-poverty campaigners who claim the junta has not adequately addressed the plight of Thailand's rural poor raised their voices, as did employees of community-radio stations banned from the airwaves by the interim government. Legal activists condemned what they believe is deteriorating judicial freedom under the military leadership. And Buddhists, who are upset their faith was not designated as the national religion in the draft of the postcoup constitution, also marched en masse. "The anti-junta coalition has gathered critical mass," says Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a political scientist at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. "This is a pent-up situation, and it's going to get worse."
The anti-junta coalition has vowed no letup in their dissent. On Monday, 5,000 Buddhists thronged in front of the Thai parliament, some participating in a hunger strike to draw attention to their call for a state faith. It's unlikely, however, that the generals will bend to such wishes—or relinquish their own power so easily. On Wednesday, General Sonthi struck a defiant note, predicting that Thaksin would not dare return to Thailand because he could be killed by one of the many groups of people who oppose him.
If Thaksin does return, the junta may have to redouble efforts to keep the peace between increasingly irate demonstrators and army troops. "To be fair to the military, they have been disciplined and patient so far, but for how long?" asks political scientist Thitinan. "They are trained to respond by force. If it turns more violent, it will be bad for Thailand economically—and for how it is viewed by the world."
with reporting by Robert Horn/Bangkok
from :www.time.com
By HANNAH BEECH/BANGKOK
Enlarge Photo
SHOW OF FORCE: An anti-junta rally in Bangkok on June 11
Hoang Dinh Nam / AFP / Getty Images
Having dubbed itself the land of Smiles, Thailand tends to go out of its way to avoid confrontation. The capital's infamous traffic jams, for instance, rarely lead to the kind of road rage that strikes other cities. Yet this past week, the Southeast Asian kingdom showed the world a rather less peaceful visage. Protests against Thailand's ruling junta spilled onto Bangkok streets last weekend, with an estimated 13,000 demonstrators calling for the resignation of the generals who masterminded a bloodless coup against Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra last September. The marches, which sometimes erupted in clashes with the police, were the largest show of dissatisfaction to date against the military government led by the coup's architect, General Sonthi Boonyaratglin.
Thaksin, who has lived in exile since his ouster, quickly upped the confrontational ante. On June 11, a government-appointed investigative committee announced it had ordered the freezing of $1.6 billion in domestic bank deposits belonging to the former tycoon and his family, alleging corruption in several government projects overseen by Thaksin. The exiled leader, who has denied any wrongdoing, suggested the following day that he may return to Thailand to fight the charges—and perhaps re-enter politics. The prospective homecoming of Thaksin is likely to inflame tensions between civilian protestors and the military government, further damaging the country's international image and its hopes for stability. "[Thaksin's] return will raise the likelihood of violence," says Sunai Phasuk, the Thailand representative for New York-based Human Rights Watch. "We are heading for political upheaval."
Most of last weekend's demonstrators were from Thaksin's fan base, which draws largely from the rural poor. Many expressed anger at a tribunal, handpicked by the junta, which had dissolved Thaksin's Thai Rak Thai (TRT) party for committing electoral fraud in last year's polls. In their defense, the ruling generals have promised to hold elections by the end of this year, and they point out that their putsch was met with almost no public outcry. That's true: Thaksin's popularity had nosedived by the end of his tenure, in part because of his autocratic style, and street protests against him last year still dwarf the current rallies against the junta.
On Sunday, the junta blamed the TRT party leadership for the protests, later hinting that cash handouts had lured many poor citizens to the demonstrations. But the anti-junta rallies span a wider spectrum than just Thaksin's supporters. Democracy advocates took to the streets to decry the September coup. Anti-poverty campaigners who claim the junta has not adequately addressed the plight of Thailand's rural poor raised their voices, as did employees of community-radio stations banned from the airwaves by the interim government. Legal activists condemned what they believe is deteriorating judicial freedom under the military leadership. And Buddhists, who are upset their faith was not designated as the national religion in the draft of the postcoup constitution, also marched en masse. "The anti-junta coalition has gathered critical mass," says Thitinan Pongsudhirak, a political scientist at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. "This is a pent-up situation, and it's going to get worse."
The anti-junta coalition has vowed no letup in their dissent. On Monday, 5,000 Buddhists thronged in front of the Thai parliament, some participating in a hunger strike to draw attention to their call for a state faith. It's unlikely, however, that the generals will bend to such wishes—or relinquish their own power so easily. On Wednesday, General Sonthi struck a defiant note, predicting that Thaksin would not dare return to Thailand because he could be killed by one of the many groups of people who oppose him.
If Thaksin does return, the junta may have to redouble efforts to keep the peace between increasingly irate demonstrators and army troops. "To be fair to the military, they have been disciplined and patient so far, but for how long?" asks political scientist Thitinan. "They are trained to respond by force. If it turns more violent, it will be bad for Thailand economically—and for how it is viewed by the world."
with reporting by Robert Horn/Bangkok
from :www.time.com
Sunday, June 17, 2007
The Philosophy of Sufficiency Economy
Medhi Krongkaew
The economic crisis of 1997 affected everyone in Thailand, even His Majesty the King. Seeing many of his subjects suffering, he advised the Thai people to change their economic philosophy in order to cope with present economic adversity and withstand future economic insecurity. His Majesty’s words have become known as the Philosophy of Sufficiency Economy and have been used as the guiding principle in drafting the current 9th National Economic and Social Development Plan.
The philosophy can be summed up in one paragraph, as translated from the Thai:
“Sufficiency Economy is a philosophy that guides the livelihood and behavior of people at all levels, from the family to the community to the country, on matters concerning national development and administration. It calls for a ‘middle way’ to be observed, especially in pursuing economic development in keeping with the world of globalization. Sufficiency means moderation and reasonableness, including the need to build a reasonable immune system against shocks from the outside or from the inside. Intelligence, attentiveness, and extreme care should be used to ensure that all plans and every step of their implementation are based on knowledge. At the same time we must build up the spiritual foundation of all people in the nation, especially state officials, scholars, and business people at all levels, so they are conscious of moral integrity and honesty and they strive for the appropriate wisdom to live life with forbearance, diligence, self-awareness, intelligence, and attentiveness. In this way we can hope to maintain balance and be ready to cope with rapid physical, social, environmental, and cultural changes from the outside world.”
This philosophical statement has lent itself to interpretation by diverse groups of people. First, we can dismiss outright the extreme interpretation that the Sufficiency Economy means complete self-reliance or autarky. In an autarchic system, a country or unit thereof relies upon itself and its people to produce all its needs with no dependence on others. It may do this voluntarily (cutting off contacts with the outside world) or by necessity (because it is incapable of generating those contacts). But His Majesty the King explicitly rejected this interpretation: “This self-sufficiency does not mean that every family must grow food for themselves, to make clothes for themselves; that is too much. But in a village or sub-district there should be a reasonable amount of sufficiency. If they grow or produce something more than they need they can sell them. But they do not need to sell them very far; they can sell them in nearby places without having to pay high transport costs.”
Some people have attempted to link this economic philosophy with the so-called “Gandhian Economy.” Along the lines proposed by Mahatma Gandhi, this is an economy based on family-level or village-level small-scale enterprises and traditional methods. It may have been appropriate to India in the mid-twentieth century, when the people were poor and technology was limited. But in the present, it may be too restrictive to expect families to do everything by themselves using simple tools and machinery, such as traditional spinning wheels to make cloth. Perhaps the basic idea of Gandhian simplicity – a life less encumbered by modern needs and modern technology – could make people happier. But in the very open world of today, self-sufficiency a la Gandhi is too extreme.
We also hear people relating the Sufficiency Economy to the knowledge and applicability of Buddhism. In Buddhism, life, especially spiritual life, is enhanced by cutting out excessive wants and greed. True happiness may be attained when a person is fully satisfied with what he or she has and is at peace with the self. To strive to consume more leads to unhappiness if (or when) consumption is not satisfied or falls short of expectations. A sufficiency economy in this context would be an economy fundamentally conditioned by basic need, not greed, and restrained by a conscious effort to cut consumption. This is probably acceptable insofar as it does not reject gains in welfare and well-being due to greater consumption.
Looking back, it can be seen that His Majesty has talked about the sufficiency idea since 1974. In his customary birthday speech of that year, he wished everyone in Thailand “sufficient to live and to eat” (Por You Por Kin). This was indeed a precursor to the sufficiency economy. His Majesty also said: “The development of a country must be by steps. It must start with basic sufficiency in food and adequate living, using techniques and instruments which are economical but technically sound. When this foundation is secured, then higher economic status and progress can be established.” (See Apichai Puntasen, “The King’s Sufficiency Economy and Its Interpretation by Economists,” prepared for the 1999 Year-End Conference of the Thailand Development Research Institute (TDRI), Pattaya, 18-19 December 1999.)
This is very clear: it shows that His Majesty did not deny economic progress and globalization, as some people have interpreted. Indeed the word “globalization” (โลกาภิวัตน์ , lokapiwat) is used in the statement on Sufficiency Economy that His Majesty has endorsed. The notion that Sufficiency Economy is anti-globalization should be put to rest forever.
Still, there are attempts by various segments of the Thai population to dissociate this new economy from the realm of mainstream economics that stresses economic rationality and efficiency in resource allocation. It is obvious that His Majesty’s Sufficiency Economy is not the type found in a mainstream economics textbook, but it would be inaccurate to interpret it as the antithesis of mainstream economics in every respect. On the contrary, I think we can understand Sufficiency Economy within the framework of economic rationality and efficiency in allocative choices. The difference is not in type, but in degree or magnitude of economic behavior. His Majesty used the phrase “middle path” or “middle way” to describe the pattern of life every Thai should lead – a life dictated by moderation, reasonableness, and the ability to withstand shock. Can we find something in mainstream economics that captures the spirit of this philosophy?
I propose to use my own understanding of economic optimization. It is possible to see the Sufficiency Economy as consisting of two frameworks. One is the inevitability of facing the globalized world in which economic efficiency and competition are the rules of the game; the other is the need for economic security and the capacity to protect oneself from external shock and instability. Thinking within the first framework – the basic tenet of mainstream economics – we must realise the opportunity costs involved in every decision we make. We gain from specialization and division of labor because the opportunity costs of doing everything by ourselves is much higher. The laws of comparative advantage and gains from trade are at work in today’s world. But it would be foolish to pursue all-out specialization without basic security, especially in food, shelter, and clothing. This is where the framework of the new Sufficiency Economy comes in. This concerns the basic capacity of the people of a country to look after themselves. The optimization principle applies when we seek to answer the question: How much of our time and energy should be devoted to the first and second frameworks, respectively? In other words, how much resources should be allocated to producing for trade based on comparative advantage principle, and how much for basic security? The best mix between the two allocations would represent the optimal state of affairs, both in mainstream and Sufficiency Economics.
The author is professor of economics at the School of Development Economics, National Institute of Development Administration (NIDA).
from :Kyoto Review
The economic crisis of 1997 affected everyone in Thailand, even His Majesty the King. Seeing many of his subjects suffering, he advised the Thai people to change their economic philosophy in order to cope with present economic adversity and withstand future economic insecurity. His Majesty’s words have become known as the Philosophy of Sufficiency Economy and have been used as the guiding principle in drafting the current 9th National Economic and Social Development Plan.
The philosophy can be summed up in one paragraph, as translated from the Thai:
“Sufficiency Economy is a philosophy that guides the livelihood and behavior of people at all levels, from the family to the community to the country, on matters concerning national development and administration. It calls for a ‘middle way’ to be observed, especially in pursuing economic development in keeping with the world of globalization. Sufficiency means moderation and reasonableness, including the need to build a reasonable immune system against shocks from the outside or from the inside. Intelligence, attentiveness, and extreme care should be used to ensure that all plans and every step of their implementation are based on knowledge. At the same time we must build up the spiritual foundation of all people in the nation, especially state officials, scholars, and business people at all levels, so they are conscious of moral integrity and honesty and they strive for the appropriate wisdom to live life with forbearance, diligence, self-awareness, intelligence, and attentiveness. In this way we can hope to maintain balance and be ready to cope with rapid physical, social, environmental, and cultural changes from the outside world.”
This philosophical statement has lent itself to interpretation by diverse groups of people. First, we can dismiss outright the extreme interpretation that the Sufficiency Economy means complete self-reliance or autarky. In an autarchic system, a country or unit thereof relies upon itself and its people to produce all its needs with no dependence on others. It may do this voluntarily (cutting off contacts with the outside world) or by necessity (because it is incapable of generating those contacts). But His Majesty the King explicitly rejected this interpretation: “This self-sufficiency does not mean that every family must grow food for themselves, to make clothes for themselves; that is too much. But in a village or sub-district there should be a reasonable amount of sufficiency. If they grow or produce something more than they need they can sell them. But they do not need to sell them very far; they can sell them in nearby places without having to pay high transport costs.”
Some people have attempted to link this economic philosophy with the so-called “Gandhian Economy.” Along the lines proposed by Mahatma Gandhi, this is an economy based on family-level or village-level small-scale enterprises and traditional methods. It may have been appropriate to India in the mid-twentieth century, when the people were poor and technology was limited. But in the present, it may be too restrictive to expect families to do everything by themselves using simple tools and machinery, such as traditional spinning wheels to make cloth. Perhaps the basic idea of Gandhian simplicity – a life less encumbered by modern needs and modern technology – could make people happier. But in the very open world of today, self-sufficiency a la Gandhi is too extreme.
We also hear people relating the Sufficiency Economy to the knowledge and applicability of Buddhism. In Buddhism, life, especially spiritual life, is enhanced by cutting out excessive wants and greed. True happiness may be attained when a person is fully satisfied with what he or she has and is at peace with the self. To strive to consume more leads to unhappiness if (or when) consumption is not satisfied or falls short of expectations. A sufficiency economy in this context would be an economy fundamentally conditioned by basic need, not greed, and restrained by a conscious effort to cut consumption. This is probably acceptable insofar as it does not reject gains in welfare and well-being due to greater consumption.
Looking back, it can be seen that His Majesty has talked about the sufficiency idea since 1974. In his customary birthday speech of that year, he wished everyone in Thailand “sufficient to live and to eat” (Por You Por Kin). This was indeed a precursor to the sufficiency economy. His Majesty also said: “The development of a country must be by steps. It must start with basic sufficiency in food and adequate living, using techniques and instruments which are economical but technically sound. When this foundation is secured, then higher economic status and progress can be established.” (See Apichai Puntasen, “The King’s Sufficiency Economy and Its Interpretation by Economists,” prepared for the 1999 Year-End Conference of the Thailand Development Research Institute (TDRI), Pattaya, 18-19 December 1999.)
This is very clear: it shows that His Majesty did not deny economic progress and globalization, as some people have interpreted. Indeed the word “globalization” (โลกาภิวัตน์ , lokapiwat) is used in the statement on Sufficiency Economy that His Majesty has endorsed. The notion that Sufficiency Economy is anti-globalization should be put to rest forever.
Still, there are attempts by various segments of the Thai population to dissociate this new economy from the realm of mainstream economics that stresses economic rationality and efficiency in resource allocation. It is obvious that His Majesty’s Sufficiency Economy is not the type found in a mainstream economics textbook, but it would be inaccurate to interpret it as the antithesis of mainstream economics in every respect. On the contrary, I think we can understand Sufficiency Economy within the framework of economic rationality and efficiency in allocative choices. The difference is not in type, but in degree or magnitude of economic behavior. His Majesty used the phrase “middle path” or “middle way” to describe the pattern of life every Thai should lead – a life dictated by moderation, reasonableness, and the ability to withstand shock. Can we find something in mainstream economics that captures the spirit of this philosophy?
I propose to use my own understanding of economic optimization. It is possible to see the Sufficiency Economy as consisting of two frameworks. One is the inevitability of facing the globalized world in which economic efficiency and competition are the rules of the game; the other is the need for economic security and the capacity to protect oneself from external shock and instability. Thinking within the first framework – the basic tenet of mainstream economics – we must realise the opportunity costs involved in every decision we make. We gain from specialization and division of labor because the opportunity costs of doing everything by ourselves is much higher. The laws of comparative advantage and gains from trade are at work in today’s world. But it would be foolish to pursue all-out specialization without basic security, especially in food, shelter, and clothing. This is where the framework of the new Sufficiency Economy comes in. This concerns the basic capacity of the people of a country to look after themselves. The optimization principle applies when we seek to answer the question: How much of our time and energy should be devoted to the first and second frameworks, respectively? In other words, how much resources should be allocated to producing for trade based on comparative advantage principle, and how much for basic security? The best mix between the two allocations would represent the optimal state of affairs, both in mainstream and Sufficiency Economics.
The author is professor of economics at the School of Development Economics, National Institute of Development Administration (NIDA).
from :Kyoto Review
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Thailand
Thailand
Thank you very much, Acharn Giles. The title of my talk, “A Country is a Company, a PM is a CEO,” is based on a statement Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra made in November 1977 when he declared: “A company is a country. A country is a company. They’re the same. The management is the same.”
Thaksin’s election victory in January 2001 should be seen not just as the “rise of Thaksin,” but as the triumph of big business in Thai politics. Thaksin is not the only big businessman in or well connected to the Cabinet. Ukrist Pathmanand, others, and I elsewhere have described the circles of interest around this government, so I don’t need to go into detail. It’s enough to note that the Cabinet and the core of the Thai Rak Thai Party contain a significant selection of the big business families which managed to survive the crisis in reasonable shape.
Big business has captured the state. That in itself is interesting, and I will talk a little about how this came about. But what big business wants to do with the state is more interesting, and I’ll spend rather more time on that.
First, then, how did this capture of the state come about? To begin with, we have to understand that this is not totally new. In the era of military dictatorship, big business was very well connected politically. As parliamentary democracy developed, several big businessmen played a prominent role in the early stages, and later moved more into the background.
For most of the past two decades, they have not seen much need to take a direct political role. I think this was for two reasons. First, before 1997 globalization seemed to be a great thing. Big business profited more than any other social or economic segment by getting access to technology, ideas, education, markets, finance. Big business did not need the state to manage globalization. Second, the state did a pretty good job of looking after business’s interests inside the country without the need for direct management. It built infrastructure, controlled labor, kept the macro economy stable, and did not interfere much with big business itself.
All that changed over the 1990s, and especially in the 1997 crisis, in three main ways. First, the existing political system showed itself catastrophically incapable of protecting big business interests – in fact the government sleepwalked into a crisis which wrecked many of the largest companies. Second, globalization ceased to be a friend but became a threat – in the shape of the IMF and predatory transnational capital. And third, society became more demanding. The 1990s was a decade of protest, new political organizations, and arguments for structural change. (I will come back to this issue below).
These three changes provided the motivation for big business to take a larger political role. Two other things made this much easier. First, parts of the 1997 constitution had an urban, centrist bias which provided the openings for big business. Second, the widespread social havoc of the crisis created an equally widespread demand for political change which could be exploited by electoral promises and party imagery.
Now let me move to the second part, how big business wants to use the state. I divide this into two areas, which are broadly economic and sociopolitical respectively.
First, economic. This government wants to shift towards a form of the “developmentalist” state found in other parts of Asia over the past generation. By “developmentalist” I mean that the state takes a more active part in protecting and promoting domestic capital in order to achieve catch-up economic growth.
This is not a new ambition on the part of Thai domestic capital. Back in 1980, the banker and finance minister Boonchu Rojanasatian campaigned for “Thailand Inc.” and said: “We should run the country like a business firm.” That effort was blocked by the generals, who worried that capitalism rampant would stimulate communism rampant too.
Thaksin has echoed Boonchu almost exactly, talking of “Thailand Company Limited” and saying, “A country is a company. A company is a country. They’re the same.”
Economic growth is the Thaksin government’s primary focus. At first, it was simply recovery from the crisis. Once this was on the way, the goal became attaining OECD status and transiting into the first world. This is the primary goal that shapes all of the secondary ones.
For earlier developmentalist states (Japan, Korea, Taiwan), the aim was to force-feed domestic capitalism through three main kinds of policies: directed credit; industrial policy, meaning packages of protective and promotional measures for selected sectors or firms; and control of labor.
Thailand’s new developmentalism differs in some important ways because of the change in era and the special character of Thailand’s economy. Most importantly, Thailand has pursued trade liberalization and later financial liberalization for many years, so the economy is highly open and externally oriented. Changing this orientation would be highly costly. Since the boom and bust, most major industry – and especially export industry – is under transnational firms. The Thaksin government’s policy is not to withdraw from this transnational dominance. It accepts that this is the age of transnational production networks. Rather the government tries to promote Thailand as a site for export location, tourism, and investment, and at the same time to upgrade Thailand’s position within transnational production chains.
In parallel, the government wants to promote and protect domestic capital in sectors oriented to domestic consumption, especially service industries. These sectors are somewhat protected from foreign competition, not by trade protection but by other legal barriers, such as the ban on foreign ownership of land and restrictions on foreign investment in media, telecommunications, and certain kinds of services on the grounds of special or security reasons. These sectors are also the ones in which most of the family businesses connected to the government are involved.
The government has moved towards what used to be called “industrial policy,” though here it is formulated in terms of business school economics and labeled “enhancing competitiveness” and promotion of small and medium enterprises (SMEs). Five strategic industries have been openly identified for promotion, including: fashion; agriprocessing; automobiles; ICT, especially graphics; and services, including tourism, restaurants, medicine, and logistics. Others are clearly being promoted in parallel through cronyist ties. Note that the majority of strategic industries are in services or service-related.
The government is also involved in channeling credit on a scale never previously seen in Thailand. The 1997 crisis pole-axed the commercial banks and finance companies. Those that survived are still reluctant to lend. At the same time, the crisis transferred many banking assets to government control. The government’s Krung Thai Bank was transformed from a sleepy dinosaur into the country’s largest lender. In addition, the government has mobilized other semi-dormant state banks and state specialized financial institutions (e.g., Government Saving Bank, EXIM Bank, SME Bank), expanded their roles, and urged them to lend. It has also experimented with ways to steal dormant deposits away from the remaining commercial banks; launched schemes of subsidized credit (for real estate and SMEs); begun using the stock market to corporatize and refinance state enterprises; and set up a state Asset Management Corporation which is able to restore the creditworthiness of formally bankrupt companies. The government has become the major factor in the allocation of credit.
The government is also stimulating consumption in order to create the market for domestically-oriented enterprise. This began with Keynesian stimulus under the previous government. Thaksin expanded this by encouraging a large increase in consumer debt.
Finally, the Thaksin government is intent on broadening and deepening the extent of the domestic capitalist economy. The thinking is simple: many people still live in a semi-subsistence economy. Incorporating them more firmly into capitalism will increase growth (as well as reduce poverty). The Thaksin government’s so-called “populist” schemes are easily misunderstood as similar to Latin American welfare populism. With the exception of the cheap health scheme, this is not the case. The Thaksin schemes are mostly about stimulating entrepreneurship by increasing the access to capital. Thaksin has said: “Capitalism needs capital, without which there is no capitalism. We need to push capital into the rural areas.” Thaksin’s adviser, Pansak Vinyaratn, claimed: “For the first time in the history of Thailand, we have moved capital closer to the people.” The same logic is being applied to some parts of the illegal or underground economy. The government wants to legalize them and bring them within the scope of the legitimate economy.
Now let me come to the socio-political part. Here my argument in summary is as follows. While big business has seized the state to manage external threats, it has also seized it to manage internal threats. This second mission is just as important, and much less understood.
After the end of the Cold War and the collapse of Thailand’s military rule, there was a big expansion of political space – protests, civil society, NGOs, public intellectuals, people politics, new organizations, etc. More people were looking for new ways to challenge the distribution of power and wealth. This upsurge threatens the interests of big business in many ways. Most directly, it threatens its ability to command the use of natural resources for land development, power generation, waste disposal, and many other things. By the end of the 1990s, almost every large-scale project was challenged and blocked by protest.
More subtly, this new civil society embraced ideologies which aim to severely reduce the power of the central state. These ideologies arose in reaction to the centralized, top-down, dictatorial state of the era of military rule, which was willed almost intact to the new parliamentary politicians. These protest ideologies range from classic liberalism, which simply wants to qualify state power through greater transparency, rule of law, checks and balances, etc., through to more anarchistic ideas such as the community culture movement, which wants to disassemble the central state and return power to local communities. These liberal and anarchistic strains were logically opposed to one another, but in many of the campaigns of the 1990s they could cooperate in opposition to the central leviathan. Moreover, these agendas started to have real influence within the state. Some of the key policy documents of the late 1990s were written from this perspective, namely, many parts of the 1997 constitution, the eighth development plan, the decentralization law, education reform proposals, and so on.
Just when big business wanted to seize the state and use it to force-feed capitalism, civil society movements wanted to disassemble or restructure the state to be more responsive to other interests. And these agendas began to have influence over the state.
Moreover, the protest movements disrupting the big projects were intertwined with the ideological campaigns against the strong state. The ideologues rode on the backs of the protesters to press their agenda; the protesters contracted the ideologues to articulate their demands in a wider political context. Moreover, this axis began to benefit from globalization, whose benefits had earlier seemed to fall mostly to big business and the middle class. Similar protest movements and ideological currents began to link together on a transnational scale, leading to such events as the World Social Forum and the siege of Seattle.
Since 2001, the Thaksin government has closed down much of the political space opened up over the prior quarter-century. This has been dramatic. The government has pursued five main approaches.
First, the government has tried in part to quell protest through a new “social contract” offering some more welfare, village funds, and various “care” schemes. Second, where this approach is ineffective, the government reverts to repression. The Pak Mun dam issue nicely fits this pattern. Thaksin himself went directly to the protesters and offered them money. When they refused, he settled the issue summarily without even completing the government-financed research and had the protest camps forcibly dismantled. To aid in countering protests, the government has added several repressive laws and has partially rehabilitated the military to serve as an ally and resource. It has aggressively targeted the NGO movement.
Third, the government has tamed the media through a mixture of law, regulation, intimidation, and money. The media is possibly tamer now than at any time in Thailand’s modern history, except the immediate aftermath of the 1976 massacre.
Fourth, the government has launched campaigns of social discipline. Some of these are peripheral – little more than state aid for panicked middle-class parents who cannot control their children and particularly their children’s sex lives. But behind these campaigns is an idea of the state’s duty and ability to discipline what Habermas would call the life-world. This is summed up in the phrase “social order,” which in its Thai version, rabiap sangkhom, has a much greater tone of conformity and orderliness than the English. For example, the Ministry of Culture has been running a TV ad for several months about a bad youth who would not bend his back in the traditional stoop of deference. The “final war on drugs” in 2003 had many objectives, but one of its outcomes was to intimidate all forms of social deviance.
Fifth, the government is promoting nationalism. This is not the political nationalism of the colonial and cold-war eras, but an economic nationalism. The thinking is explained in Liah Greenfeld’s book, The Spirit of Capitalism, which Thaksin and his advisors have publicly quoted on several occasions. The main message of the book is that societies which put priority on achieving economic growth to make their nation great can achieve growth very rapidly. Greenfeld wrote: “Where nationalism embraces economic competitiveness, the ‘take-off into sustained growth’ can be expected to take place within a generation…. Nationalism was like the magic wand that changed Cinderella’s pumpkin and mice into a gilded coach-and-four.” Greenfeld’s second message is that societies which start on this path but get distracted by other goals such as democracy or rights or the quality of life or equity are likely to fall by the wayside.
At the end of last year, Thaksin said: “Democracy is a good and beautiful thing, but it’s not the ultimate goal as far as administering the country is concerned…. Democracy is just a tool, not our goal. The goal is to give people a good lifestyle, happiness, and national progress.”
In sum, I see Thaksin as the leader of a big business project to seize the state in order to protect big business against both external and internal threats, and in order to achieve a “great leap forward” into advanced capitalism. Thaksin and his allies want to manage the economy more actively by using state tools to mobilize resources and deepen capitalism. They want to manage the society to suppress alternative agendas which might obstruct this great leap forward, particularly agendas which prioritize rights, democracy, or equity above growth. Thailand is obviously adopting a form of developmentalism along the line of the Asian NICs in the 1970s, but with differences because of the way the world has changed over recent decades.
When a country becomes a company, and government becomes management, then people are not so much citizens with rights, liberties, and aspirations, but rather consumers and factors of production. Thank you.
Giles Ji Ungpakorn: Thank you very much, Prof. Pasuk. Our next speaker is Associate Professor Paul Hutchcroft, who is currently based in the University of Wisconsin in the United States, where he specializes on comparative politics on Southeast Asia, especially the Philippines.
from :Kyoto Review
Thank you very much, Acharn Giles. The title of my talk, “A Country is a Company, a PM is a CEO,” is based on a statement Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra made in November 1977 when he declared: “A company is a country. A country is a company. They’re the same. The management is the same.”
Thaksin’s election victory in January 2001 should be seen not just as the “rise of Thaksin,” but as the triumph of big business in Thai politics. Thaksin is not the only big businessman in or well connected to the Cabinet. Ukrist Pathmanand, others, and I elsewhere have described the circles of interest around this government, so I don’t need to go into detail. It’s enough to note that the Cabinet and the core of the Thai Rak Thai Party contain a significant selection of the big business families which managed to survive the crisis in reasonable shape.
Big business has captured the state. That in itself is interesting, and I will talk a little about how this came about. But what big business wants to do with the state is more interesting, and I’ll spend rather more time on that.
First, then, how did this capture of the state come about? To begin with, we have to understand that this is not totally new. In the era of military dictatorship, big business was very well connected politically. As parliamentary democracy developed, several big businessmen played a prominent role in the early stages, and later moved more into the background.
For most of the past two decades, they have not seen much need to take a direct political role. I think this was for two reasons. First, before 1997 globalization seemed to be a great thing. Big business profited more than any other social or economic segment by getting access to technology, ideas, education, markets, finance. Big business did not need the state to manage globalization. Second, the state did a pretty good job of looking after business’s interests inside the country without the need for direct management. It built infrastructure, controlled labor, kept the macro economy stable, and did not interfere much with big business itself.
All that changed over the 1990s, and especially in the 1997 crisis, in three main ways. First, the existing political system showed itself catastrophically incapable of protecting big business interests – in fact the government sleepwalked into a crisis which wrecked many of the largest companies. Second, globalization ceased to be a friend but became a threat – in the shape of the IMF and predatory transnational capital. And third, society became more demanding. The 1990s was a decade of protest, new political organizations, and arguments for structural change. (I will come back to this issue below).
These three changes provided the motivation for big business to take a larger political role. Two other things made this much easier. First, parts of the 1997 constitution had an urban, centrist bias which provided the openings for big business. Second, the widespread social havoc of the crisis created an equally widespread demand for political change which could be exploited by electoral promises and party imagery.
Now let me move to the second part, how big business wants to use the state. I divide this into two areas, which are broadly economic and sociopolitical respectively.
First, economic. This government wants to shift towards a form of the “developmentalist” state found in other parts of Asia over the past generation. By “developmentalist” I mean that the state takes a more active part in protecting and promoting domestic capital in order to achieve catch-up economic growth.
This is not a new ambition on the part of Thai domestic capital. Back in 1980, the banker and finance minister Boonchu Rojanasatian campaigned for “Thailand Inc.” and said: “We should run the country like a business firm.” That effort was blocked by the generals, who worried that capitalism rampant would stimulate communism rampant too.
Thaksin has echoed Boonchu almost exactly, talking of “Thailand Company Limited” and saying, “A country is a company. A company is a country. They’re the same.”
Economic growth is the Thaksin government’s primary focus. At first, it was simply recovery from the crisis. Once this was on the way, the goal became attaining OECD status and transiting into the first world. This is the primary goal that shapes all of the secondary ones.
For earlier developmentalist states (Japan, Korea, Taiwan), the aim was to force-feed domestic capitalism through three main kinds of policies: directed credit; industrial policy, meaning packages of protective and promotional measures for selected sectors or firms; and control of labor.
Thailand’s new developmentalism differs in some important ways because of the change in era and the special character of Thailand’s economy. Most importantly, Thailand has pursued trade liberalization and later financial liberalization for many years, so the economy is highly open and externally oriented. Changing this orientation would be highly costly. Since the boom and bust, most major industry – and especially export industry – is under transnational firms. The Thaksin government’s policy is not to withdraw from this transnational dominance. It accepts that this is the age of transnational production networks. Rather the government tries to promote Thailand as a site for export location, tourism, and investment, and at the same time to upgrade Thailand’s position within transnational production chains.
In parallel, the government wants to promote and protect domestic capital in sectors oriented to domestic consumption, especially service industries. These sectors are somewhat protected from foreign competition, not by trade protection but by other legal barriers, such as the ban on foreign ownership of land and restrictions on foreign investment in media, telecommunications, and certain kinds of services on the grounds of special or security reasons. These sectors are also the ones in which most of the family businesses connected to the government are involved.
The government has moved towards what used to be called “industrial policy,” though here it is formulated in terms of business school economics and labeled “enhancing competitiveness” and promotion of small and medium enterprises (SMEs). Five strategic industries have been openly identified for promotion, including: fashion; agriprocessing; automobiles; ICT, especially graphics; and services, including tourism, restaurants, medicine, and logistics. Others are clearly being promoted in parallel through cronyist ties. Note that the majority of strategic industries are in services or service-related.
The government is also involved in channeling credit on a scale never previously seen in Thailand. The 1997 crisis pole-axed the commercial banks and finance companies. Those that survived are still reluctant to lend. At the same time, the crisis transferred many banking assets to government control. The government’s Krung Thai Bank was transformed from a sleepy dinosaur into the country’s largest lender. In addition, the government has mobilized other semi-dormant state banks and state specialized financial institutions (e.g., Government Saving Bank, EXIM Bank, SME Bank), expanded their roles, and urged them to lend. It has also experimented with ways to steal dormant deposits away from the remaining commercial banks; launched schemes of subsidized credit (for real estate and SMEs); begun using the stock market to corporatize and refinance state enterprises; and set up a state Asset Management Corporation which is able to restore the creditworthiness of formally bankrupt companies. The government has become the major factor in the allocation of credit.
The government is also stimulating consumption in order to create the market for domestically-oriented enterprise. This began with Keynesian stimulus under the previous government. Thaksin expanded this by encouraging a large increase in consumer debt.
Finally, the Thaksin government is intent on broadening and deepening the extent of the domestic capitalist economy. The thinking is simple: many people still live in a semi-subsistence economy. Incorporating them more firmly into capitalism will increase growth (as well as reduce poverty). The Thaksin government’s so-called “populist” schemes are easily misunderstood as similar to Latin American welfare populism. With the exception of the cheap health scheme, this is not the case. The Thaksin schemes are mostly about stimulating entrepreneurship by increasing the access to capital. Thaksin has said: “Capitalism needs capital, without which there is no capitalism. We need to push capital into the rural areas.” Thaksin’s adviser, Pansak Vinyaratn, claimed: “For the first time in the history of Thailand, we have moved capital closer to the people.” The same logic is being applied to some parts of the illegal or underground economy. The government wants to legalize them and bring them within the scope of the legitimate economy.
Now let me come to the socio-political part. Here my argument in summary is as follows. While big business has seized the state to manage external threats, it has also seized it to manage internal threats. This second mission is just as important, and much less understood.
After the end of the Cold War and the collapse of Thailand’s military rule, there was a big expansion of political space – protests, civil society, NGOs, public intellectuals, people politics, new organizations, etc. More people were looking for new ways to challenge the distribution of power and wealth. This upsurge threatens the interests of big business in many ways. Most directly, it threatens its ability to command the use of natural resources for land development, power generation, waste disposal, and many other things. By the end of the 1990s, almost every large-scale project was challenged and blocked by protest.
More subtly, this new civil society embraced ideologies which aim to severely reduce the power of the central state. These ideologies arose in reaction to the centralized, top-down, dictatorial state of the era of military rule, which was willed almost intact to the new parliamentary politicians. These protest ideologies range from classic liberalism, which simply wants to qualify state power through greater transparency, rule of law, checks and balances, etc., through to more anarchistic ideas such as the community culture movement, which wants to disassemble the central state and return power to local communities. These liberal and anarchistic strains were logically opposed to one another, but in many of the campaigns of the 1990s they could cooperate in opposition to the central leviathan. Moreover, these agendas started to have real influence within the state. Some of the key policy documents of the late 1990s were written from this perspective, namely, many parts of the 1997 constitution, the eighth development plan, the decentralization law, education reform proposals, and so on.
Just when big business wanted to seize the state and use it to force-feed capitalism, civil society movements wanted to disassemble or restructure the state to be more responsive to other interests. And these agendas began to have influence over the state.
Moreover, the protest movements disrupting the big projects were intertwined with the ideological campaigns against the strong state. The ideologues rode on the backs of the protesters to press their agenda; the protesters contracted the ideologues to articulate their demands in a wider political context. Moreover, this axis began to benefit from globalization, whose benefits had earlier seemed to fall mostly to big business and the middle class. Similar protest movements and ideological currents began to link together on a transnational scale, leading to such events as the World Social Forum and the siege of Seattle.
Since 2001, the Thaksin government has closed down much of the political space opened up over the prior quarter-century. This has been dramatic. The government has pursued five main approaches.
First, the government has tried in part to quell protest through a new “social contract” offering some more welfare, village funds, and various “care” schemes. Second, where this approach is ineffective, the government reverts to repression. The Pak Mun dam issue nicely fits this pattern. Thaksin himself went directly to the protesters and offered them money. When they refused, he settled the issue summarily without even completing the government-financed research and had the protest camps forcibly dismantled. To aid in countering protests, the government has added several repressive laws and has partially rehabilitated the military to serve as an ally and resource. It has aggressively targeted the NGO movement.
Third, the government has tamed the media through a mixture of law, regulation, intimidation, and money. The media is possibly tamer now than at any time in Thailand’s modern history, except the immediate aftermath of the 1976 massacre.
Fourth, the government has launched campaigns of social discipline. Some of these are peripheral – little more than state aid for panicked middle-class parents who cannot control their children and particularly their children’s sex lives. But behind these campaigns is an idea of the state’s duty and ability to discipline what Habermas would call the life-world. This is summed up in the phrase “social order,” which in its Thai version, rabiap sangkhom, has a much greater tone of conformity and orderliness than the English. For example, the Ministry of Culture has been running a TV ad for several months about a bad youth who would not bend his back in the traditional stoop of deference. The “final war on drugs” in 2003 had many objectives, but one of its outcomes was to intimidate all forms of social deviance.
Fifth, the government is promoting nationalism. This is not the political nationalism of the colonial and cold-war eras, but an economic nationalism. The thinking is explained in Liah Greenfeld’s book, The Spirit of Capitalism, which Thaksin and his advisors have publicly quoted on several occasions. The main message of the book is that societies which put priority on achieving economic growth to make their nation great can achieve growth very rapidly. Greenfeld wrote: “Where nationalism embraces economic competitiveness, the ‘take-off into sustained growth’ can be expected to take place within a generation…. Nationalism was like the magic wand that changed Cinderella’s pumpkin and mice into a gilded coach-and-four.” Greenfeld’s second message is that societies which start on this path but get distracted by other goals such as democracy or rights or the quality of life or equity are likely to fall by the wayside.
At the end of last year, Thaksin said: “Democracy is a good and beautiful thing, but it’s not the ultimate goal as far as administering the country is concerned…. Democracy is just a tool, not our goal. The goal is to give people a good lifestyle, happiness, and national progress.”
In sum, I see Thaksin as the leader of a big business project to seize the state in order to protect big business against both external and internal threats, and in order to achieve a “great leap forward” into advanced capitalism. Thaksin and his allies want to manage the economy more actively by using state tools to mobilize resources and deepen capitalism. They want to manage the society to suppress alternative agendas which might obstruct this great leap forward, particularly agendas which prioritize rights, democracy, or equity above growth. Thailand is obviously adopting a form of developmentalism along the line of the Asian NICs in the 1970s, but with differences because of the way the world has changed over recent decades.
When a country becomes a company, and government becomes management, then people are not so much citizens with rights, liberties, and aspirations, but rather consumers and factors of production. Thank you.
Giles Ji Ungpakorn: Thank you very much, Prof. Pasuk. Our next speaker is Associate Professor Paul Hutchcroft, who is currently based in the University of Wisconsin in the United States, where he specializes on comparative politics on Southeast Asia, especially the Philippines.
from :Kyoto Review
Crimes Committed by the State: Transition in Crisis
Crimes Committed by the State: Transition in Crisis
Atchayagam Rat Wigrit Garnpienpaeng
Ji Giles Ungpakorn, Suthachai Yimprasert et al.
Bangkok / The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee / 2001
The Women of 6th October: Sifting Out the Truth by Opening Old Wounds
Grid Plae Glad Nong Grong Khwamjing Doi Phuying Hok Tula
Chonthira Sattyawattana
Bangkok / The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee / 2001
by Viengrat Nethipo
I found myself seated somewhere on the campus of Chulalongkorn University working on a manuscript of this review. It was the day of the 58th Annual Traditional Football Match between Chulalongkorn and Thammasat universities. The two royally composed university songs, CU’s “Mahachulalongkorn” and TU’s “Yoong Tong,” could be heard echoing across the campus from the National Stadium. For students today, it is activities like the football match that define university life.
In other words, this review of books dealing with the political events of 6th October 1976 is being written and will be read in a context very different from the one which held then, one in which there is very little public awareness of the politics of more than a quarter century ago. Today, only Thai students with an interest in Thai history have any knowledge of what took place on this date. Unlike in Chile, where former leader Pinochet was recently on trial for using force against innocent people during more or less the same period, in Thai society today, there is little interest in bringing to justice the culprits behind the violence of October 1976.
However, to researchers of Thai politics and society, these are important books. These two publications attracted the attention of a large number of participants at the International Symposium on Thai Studies in Nakorn Phanom Province in early January. This article centers on the question of whether these books, given the current political climate, or lack thereof, succeed in proving that the State was responsible for what took place 25 years ago—as suggested by the title of the first book—or whether it is possible only to “sift out the truth”—as the title of the second book implies.
The events of 6th October took place during the heat of political battles between the left and right wings. They culminated in the cruel suppression of the students gathering at Thammasat by police and a right-wing mob. A large number of innocent people were killed or suffered emotional trauma. A coup d’état followed forcing many Thai students to go into hiding or join the Communist Party of Thailand, which had strongholds in remote areas of the country. Thailand was effectively in a state of civil war, with the Communist Party and government forces battling for approximately four years.
The publisher of these books is The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee, which was set up in July 2000 to gather information about a missing chapter from recent Thai history by compiling verbal accounts from volunteer eyewitnesses. Sitting as the chairperson was Professor (Emeritus) of Rangsit University Dr. Chontara Satayawattana (the author of the second book under review), and holding the secretarial position was Assistant Professor Ji Giles Ungpakorn (co-author of the first book) of Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Political Science.
Atchayagam Rat Wigrit Garnpienpaeng (Crimes committed by the state) has three main objectives. In the first part, Ji Ungpakorn attempts to compile all available written accounts of the 6th October events. These are mostly explanations of “the truth” as seen through the eyes of the student leaders involved. Without imposing his own conclusions, the author simply presents these diverse viewpoints as starting points for discussion of the key issues raised in the last two sections of the book.
The next section consists of an in-depth examination of historical forces that led to the events. The study was done by Dr. Suthachai Yimprasert, a historian from Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Arts and a former student activist. Even though he wasn’t at Thammasat that morning, his alleged involvement in student politics prompted him to flee. Suthachai’s thorough and multi-faceted study presents several factors that led to the bloodshed, in which at least thirty-nine people were killed and 145 others injured. He concludes that the crackdown on the students and the subsequent coup d’état had been planned in advance by the government, which justified its actions by accusing the students of staging a play that bordered on lèse-majesté. Suthachai urges Thai society to accept the truth that the student victims were in fact “heroes” who aspired to create a better society. Suthachai has successfully enriched this historical chapter with as many details as possible, making it a reliable source for future reference.
In the final section, Ji Ungpakorn, one of the most interesting writers on the 6th October events, rules that what happened was a crime committed by the State. His approach is different from that of others who have written on the same subject. First of all, he was by no means a student leader. Nor was he involved in the student movement. In fact, he only returned from England, where he spent most of his life, five years ago. The reason why he proclaims himself “an October person” (the term used to refer to students and other educated people who were directly involved in the 14 October 1973 and 6 October 1976 events) is because he is the son of Puay Ungpakorn, the Thammasat University president who, as a result of the events of 6th October, was forced to flee the country and eventually died in exile.
Ji Ungpakorn is therefore an academic and social activist whose background was not directly shaped by political situations in Thailand. Nor has he been so deeply scarred by the events that he is unable to make an objective analysis. All this, in fact, works to his advantage. He deliberates on the events like a true judge whose impartiality is not clouded by any illusions, as when he professes himself to be a Marxist despite others’ disillusionment with the Communist Party of Thailand.
Thus, Ji’s deliberation on the 6th October case must be regarded as having been done from a distance by someone removed from the actual events. Ji builds his case carefully before reaching the conclusion that the events were a crime committed by the State. He cites counter-evidence and counter-arguments like a professional trial lawyer. He counters all four accusations made by the State to justify the crackdown on the students and people on 6th October: first, that the students had staged a play that bordered on lèse-majesté; second, that by stockpiling weapons at Thammasat the students were guilty of treason; third, that the clashes between the so-called “patriots” and the students had gotten out of control, forcing police to break into Thammasat; fourth, that the students, by spreading communist ideology, were a threat to national security.
Ji dismisses each of the accusations using factual evidence and arguments. His judgment that the students’ gathering was a legitimate act is made without regard to the students’ deeds or to their ideology at the time or to any of the philosophical or factual disputes presented in the first part of the book. In this section, Ji assumes the role of a prosecutor and a jury who convicts the state of committing a crime and calls for the judge to bring the culprits to justice. He proposes that a truth commission be set up as has been done in many other countries.
Grid Plae Glad Nong Grong Khwamjing Doi Phuying Hok Tula (The women of 6th October: Sifting out the truth by opening old wounds) is a compilation of testimony given verbatim by women eyewitnesses. The writer, Chontira Satayawattana, is a former student activist who spent seven years in hiding. She was pregnant when she was charged with involvement in communist activities and sent to prison, where she subsequently gave birth to a daughter.
The book lives up to its title. The writer successfully sifts out the truth through verbal accounts and memories recounted by the female eyewitnesses. An unprecedented feat, the book not only allows volunteer witnesses to vent their painful feelings and memories but also presents newly discovered information. For example, according to a former intelligence student activist, a radio police message intercepted just before the events took place confirms that police reinforcement had been ordered prior to that morning. This evidence leads to the conclusion that the decision to enter Thammasat on the morning of 6th October was not a case of a situation getting out of control, but was actually an action planned in advance.
Every paragraph written by Suthachai and Chontira is replete with the names of individuals and institutions that are still highly influential even today. This is an important reason why we cannot hope to see Ji’s verdict taken seriously or a truth commission set up any time soon. As an outsider, Ji may be perceived as naïve. And the day remains out of reach when his demand for justice is met and his hope to be a torchbearer for truth and a force for change is realized.
At least Ji Ungpakorn is successful in presenting facts to those wanting to know the truth, but his call for justice is likely to be drowned out by the two royally composed songs echoing across the campus today.
The author is an assistant professor of political science at Chulalongkorn University. This review was translated by Somjit Jirananthiporn and Michael Crabtree, Chalermprakiet Center of Translation and Interpretation, Faculty of Arts, Chulalongkorn University.
from :Kyoto Review
Atchayagam Rat Wigrit Garnpienpaeng
Ji Giles Ungpakorn, Suthachai Yimprasert et al.
Bangkok / The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee / 2001
The Women of 6th October: Sifting Out the Truth by Opening Old Wounds
Grid Plae Glad Nong Grong Khwamjing Doi Phuying Hok Tula
Chonthira Sattyawattana
Bangkok / The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee / 2001
by Viengrat Nethipo
I found myself seated somewhere on the campus of Chulalongkorn University working on a manuscript of this review. It was the day of the 58th Annual Traditional Football Match between Chulalongkorn and Thammasat universities. The two royally composed university songs, CU’s “Mahachulalongkorn” and TU’s “Yoong Tong,” could be heard echoing across the campus from the National Stadium. For students today, it is activities like the football match that define university life.
In other words, this review of books dealing with the political events of 6th October 1976 is being written and will be read in a context very different from the one which held then, one in which there is very little public awareness of the politics of more than a quarter century ago. Today, only Thai students with an interest in Thai history have any knowledge of what took place on this date. Unlike in Chile, where former leader Pinochet was recently on trial for using force against innocent people during more or less the same period, in Thai society today, there is little interest in bringing to justice the culprits behind the violence of October 1976.
However, to researchers of Thai politics and society, these are important books. These two publications attracted the attention of a large number of participants at the International Symposium on Thai Studies in Nakorn Phanom Province in early January. This article centers on the question of whether these books, given the current political climate, or lack thereof, succeed in proving that the State was responsible for what took place 25 years ago—as suggested by the title of the first book—or whether it is possible only to “sift out the truth”—as the title of the second book implies.
The events of 6th October took place during the heat of political battles between the left and right wings. They culminated in the cruel suppression of the students gathering at Thammasat by police and a right-wing mob. A large number of innocent people were killed or suffered emotional trauma. A coup d’état followed forcing many Thai students to go into hiding or join the Communist Party of Thailand, which had strongholds in remote areas of the country. Thailand was effectively in a state of civil war, with the Communist Party and government forces battling for approximately four years.
The publisher of these books is The 6th October 1976 Investigating Committee, which was set up in July 2000 to gather information about a missing chapter from recent Thai history by compiling verbal accounts from volunteer eyewitnesses. Sitting as the chairperson was Professor (Emeritus) of Rangsit University Dr. Chontara Satayawattana (the author of the second book under review), and holding the secretarial position was Assistant Professor Ji Giles Ungpakorn (co-author of the first book) of Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Political Science.
Atchayagam Rat Wigrit Garnpienpaeng (Crimes committed by the state) has three main objectives. In the first part, Ji Ungpakorn attempts to compile all available written accounts of the 6th October events. These are mostly explanations of “the truth” as seen through the eyes of the student leaders involved. Without imposing his own conclusions, the author simply presents these diverse viewpoints as starting points for discussion of the key issues raised in the last two sections of the book.
The next section consists of an in-depth examination of historical forces that led to the events. The study was done by Dr. Suthachai Yimprasert, a historian from Chulalongkorn University’s Faculty of Arts and a former student activist. Even though he wasn’t at Thammasat that morning, his alleged involvement in student politics prompted him to flee. Suthachai’s thorough and multi-faceted study presents several factors that led to the bloodshed, in which at least thirty-nine people were killed and 145 others injured. He concludes that the crackdown on the students and the subsequent coup d’état had been planned in advance by the government, which justified its actions by accusing the students of staging a play that bordered on lèse-majesté. Suthachai urges Thai society to accept the truth that the student victims were in fact “heroes” who aspired to create a better society. Suthachai has successfully enriched this historical chapter with as many details as possible, making it a reliable source for future reference.
In the final section, Ji Ungpakorn, one of the most interesting writers on the 6th October events, rules that what happened was a crime committed by the State. His approach is different from that of others who have written on the same subject. First of all, he was by no means a student leader. Nor was he involved in the student movement. In fact, he only returned from England, where he spent most of his life, five years ago. The reason why he proclaims himself “an October person” (the term used to refer to students and other educated people who were directly involved in the 14 October 1973 and 6 October 1976 events) is because he is the son of Puay Ungpakorn, the Thammasat University president who, as a result of the events of 6th October, was forced to flee the country and eventually died in exile.
Ji Ungpakorn is therefore an academic and social activist whose background was not directly shaped by political situations in Thailand. Nor has he been so deeply scarred by the events that he is unable to make an objective analysis. All this, in fact, works to his advantage. He deliberates on the events like a true judge whose impartiality is not clouded by any illusions, as when he professes himself to be a Marxist despite others’ disillusionment with the Communist Party of Thailand.
Thus, Ji’s deliberation on the 6th October case must be regarded as having been done from a distance by someone removed from the actual events. Ji builds his case carefully before reaching the conclusion that the events were a crime committed by the State. He cites counter-evidence and counter-arguments like a professional trial lawyer. He counters all four accusations made by the State to justify the crackdown on the students and people on 6th October: first, that the students had staged a play that bordered on lèse-majesté; second, that by stockpiling weapons at Thammasat the students were guilty of treason; third, that the clashes between the so-called “patriots” and the students had gotten out of control, forcing police to break into Thammasat; fourth, that the students, by spreading communist ideology, were a threat to national security.
Ji dismisses each of the accusations using factual evidence and arguments. His judgment that the students’ gathering was a legitimate act is made without regard to the students’ deeds or to their ideology at the time or to any of the philosophical or factual disputes presented in the first part of the book. In this section, Ji assumes the role of a prosecutor and a jury who convicts the state of committing a crime and calls for the judge to bring the culprits to justice. He proposes that a truth commission be set up as has been done in many other countries.
Grid Plae Glad Nong Grong Khwamjing Doi Phuying Hok Tula (The women of 6th October: Sifting out the truth by opening old wounds) is a compilation of testimony given verbatim by women eyewitnesses. The writer, Chontira Satayawattana, is a former student activist who spent seven years in hiding. She was pregnant when she was charged with involvement in communist activities and sent to prison, where she subsequently gave birth to a daughter.
The book lives up to its title. The writer successfully sifts out the truth through verbal accounts and memories recounted by the female eyewitnesses. An unprecedented feat, the book not only allows volunteer witnesses to vent their painful feelings and memories but also presents newly discovered information. For example, according to a former intelligence student activist, a radio police message intercepted just before the events took place confirms that police reinforcement had been ordered prior to that morning. This evidence leads to the conclusion that the decision to enter Thammasat on the morning of 6th October was not a case of a situation getting out of control, but was actually an action planned in advance.
Every paragraph written by Suthachai and Chontira is replete with the names of individuals and institutions that are still highly influential even today. This is an important reason why we cannot hope to see Ji’s verdict taken seriously or a truth commission set up any time soon. As an outsider, Ji may be perceived as naïve. And the day remains out of reach when his demand for justice is met and his hope to be a torchbearer for truth and a force for change is realized.
At least Ji Ungpakorn is successful in presenting facts to those wanting to know the truth, but his call for justice is likely to be drowned out by the two royally composed songs echoing across the campus today.
The author is an assistant professor of political science at Chulalongkorn University. This review was translated by Somjit Jirananthiporn and Michael Crabtree, Chalermprakiet Center of Translation and Interpretation, Faculty of Arts, Chulalongkorn University.
from :Kyoto Review
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