Calls to Curb the Crown’s Writ Put Thailand on Edge
Calls to Curb the Crown’s Writ Put Thailand on Edge
Report 263 / Asia

注定的政变?泰国实现稳定的前景

执行摘要

5月22日,泰国军方在数月的政治动荡之后攫取政权,这在泰国历史上已经是第12次。但这并不只是历史的重演。过去十年间,泰国从选举到抗议到政府倒台(不论是通过法院判决还是军方哗变)这个固定戏码越演愈烈,揭示出不断加深的社会分裂和精英间的对立,也凸显对合法权力这一概念的不同解读。此外,泰国即将发生皇室继位加剧了情势的危急,而这是法律禁止公开讨论的话题。如果政权的这些机能故障不得到修理,动荡将可能加剧。军方拿出的对策似乎是架空民选产生的领导人,支持非民选产生的机制。鉴于选民近年来影响力上升,军方的这种做法只可能制造更多冲突,而非巩固国家的凝聚力。对军方来说,现在既不能悔棋,也不能无限期地实行独裁统治。军政权的历史功过以及泰国的稳定都有赖于军方是否能够开辟一条新路,既能尊重多数主义政治,又能让所有泰国人觉得自己的呼声得到了倾听。到目前为止,这条新路还没有找到。

这次军方政变发生在又一场权力斗争的背景下,斗争的一方是前总理他信的支持者,另一方是他信的反对派,代表传统体制和城市中产阶级。他信的妹妹英拉在2011年当选总理,但她所在的为泰党很不明智地企图通过一项大赦法,使从2008年就开始自我流亡的他信可以返回泰国,这引发了大规模的反政府抗议活动。抗议者们看准了时机,以“议会独裁”、民粹主义失控和腐败指控为由,要求政府下台。英拉组织了普选,但遭到主要反对派的抵制,被迫中断,并被宪法法院定为无效。五月,该法院又以行政违法为由判英拉下台。就在英拉的临时政府苟延残喘但拒不下台时,军队宣布戒严令,夺取了政权。

英拉的下台和军队的政变同之前的几轮动荡类似。同他信有关的政党从2001年以来在历次普选几乎都受到来自固有体制的顽固抵制,但每次都赢得了选举,然而除了他信的第一任政府外,没有一届政府得以做足任期。他信个人虽然显示出了独裁主义倾向,但是他的政党在泰国每次回到民选制时都赢得选举。在这种情况下,英拉政府的下台让很多人,不论是支持者还是反对者,都觉得几乎不可避免。然而这次,军方在政府中更加积极的角色、政治分歧的加剧以及即将到来的皇室继位都使紧张局势更加紧张,可能难以扭转。

巴育将军领导的泰国军方上次出手涉政是在2006年,这次政变同上次时隔不久,此外,军方还参与了2010年以暴力手段平息街头抗议。这一轮政变后,军方似乎决心要从自己过去的错误中吸取教训。因此,泰国执政的全国维持和平秩序委员会下大力镇压了异议人士,而关于在2015年10月举行选举的话现在也被更模糊的承诺所取代,由此看来,该委员会不会迅速交出权力。此外,泰国临时宪法给该委员会绝对权力,包括可以赦免其成员过去和未来的所作所为,而且没有给予民选代表任何民主参政的角色或办法,吸取以前打压他信及其代理人影响力的努力遭失败的教训,临时宪法对下部宪法的界定显示,民选机构的权力将会受到严格限制。

现在还远不能说选民们一定会默默接受这种被削弱的地位。他们越来越习惯于选举他们的政府,但同时,因地域差异、某种程度上的阶级差异及准意识形态差异而造成的选民间的对立和分裂愈演愈烈。这些错综复杂根本性的挑战来自曼谷及其周边地区的关系和长期的收入差距。另外,一些人认为民选至高无上,另一些人则认为多数派政治不过是披着民主外衣的暴政,在两派的激烈交锋下,对领导人来说走教条主义的捷径比治国安邦来得更容易。

在数月政治动荡之后,泰国经济萧条。虽然军方声称自己反对平民主义,但除了大规模政府开支以外束手无策。在马来穆斯林占人口多数的泰国南部各省,持续了十年的分裂主义叛乱仍在继续。全国维持和平秩序委员会坚称会争取同武装分子领导人进行对话,但却拒绝支持这一地区实行任何形式的特殊行政管理,这使人质疑双方的谈判基础从何而来。

全国维持和平秩序委员会中止公民自由,对媒体进行管制,并剥夺民选官员的权力,如果这种局面不改变,其声称的建立民主之目标似乎没有实现的可能。泰国最需要的是通过全国范围内的对话就未来的政治方向达成共识,形成对民主这一概念的共同认识,并通过赋予行政和立法部门完整权力及保护所有公民的利益来确保多数主义受到尊重。

如想建立一个更能反映民意和更具生存能力的政府,最好的办法是建立更强大的代议和问责制度。否则,个人和团体就将被迫回到半透明的雇主-代理人式关系上以保障自身利益。独立机构必须公正,司法独立必须得到支持。泰国需要考虑进一步的权力分散是否能缓解地区差异带来的矛盾,并降低控制中央政府的重要性。 在国家权力对民选权力负责之前,稳定和民主都无从实现。在某种程度上,这要求民选官员遵守对权力限制,以确保透明性,并保护政治少数派的权利;另一大挑战是腐败,解决这一问题则需要在民主框架内采取的协调一致的措施。

同1991年和2006年的政变类似,2014年的政变并未立即引发暴力反弹。许多人欢迎军队介入以恢复秩序、消除腐败和“推动国家前进”。但是,上两次政变最终都以军队和抗议者的血腥对峙而结束。从目前日益高压的氛围来看,过去的经历或许会被证明是序曲。

布鲁塞尔/曼谷,2014年12月3日

Executive Summary

On 22 May, for the twelfth time in Thailand’s history, the army seized power after months of political turbulence. This is not simply more of the same. The past decade has seen an intensifying cycle of election, protest and government downfall, whether at the hands of the courts or military, revealing deepening societal cleavages and elite rivalries, highlighting competing notions of legitimate authority. A looming royal succession, prohibited by law from being openly discussed, adds to the urgency. A failure to fix this dysfunction risks greater turmoil. The military’s apparent prescription – gelding elected leaders in favour of unelected institutions – is more likely to bring conflict than cohesion, given a recent history of a newly empowered electorate. For the army, buyer’s remorse is not an option, nor is open-ended autocracy; rather its legacy, and Thailand’s stability, depend on its success in forging a path – thus far elusive – both respectful of majoritarian politics and in which all Thais can see their concerns acknowledged.

The coup’s stage was set by yet another round of a power struggle between forces allied with former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra and his opponents in the traditional establishment and urban middle class. Thaksin’s sister, Yingluck Shinawatra, who won office in 2011, faced large anti-government protests from November 2013 following an ill-judged bid by her party to pass an amnesty law that would have allowed for the return to Thailand of her brother, in self-exile since 2008. The protesters, sensing the moment, wanted to bring down the government, citing “parliamentary dictatorship”, runaway populism and alleged corruption. Yingluck called a general election, but it was boycotted by the main opposition, subject to disruption and invalidated by the Constitutional Court. In May, the same court forced Yingluck from office for an administrative violation. With the caretaker government hobbled but refusing to resign, the army declared martial law and seized power.

Yingluck’s ouster and the coup echo earlier rounds of turmoil. Thaksin-affiliated parties have won every general election since 2001, usually in the face of staunch establishment resistance, and none but his first government has been permitted to see out their term. Thaksin showed an authoritarian bent, yet his parties win each time there is a return to the polls. Under these circumstances, the ouster of Yingluck’s government seemed to many – both those for and against it – as almost inevitable. This time, the more active role of the military in government, the intensifying political divide and the impending royal succession create a tightening torque of tension that might prove difficult to roll back.

In seizing power so soon after its last intervention in 2006, and following its involvement in violently quelling 2010 street protests, the military, under General Prayuth Chan-ocha, appears determined to learn from what it sees to have been its past errors. Thus, the ruling National Council for Peace and Order (NCPO) has moved forcefully to repress dissent and looks unlikely to relinquish power any time soon, with talk of October 2015 elections now replaced with vaguer commitments. Further, the interim charter gives absolute power to the NCPO, including amnestying its members for past and future actions. It provides no role for elected representatives or means for popular political participation. The parameters it sets out for the next constitution suggest elected authority will be heavily circumscribed, previous efforts to tamp down the influence of Thaksin and his proxies having failed.

It is far from certain that the electorate will quietly accept such a diminished status. Voters, increasingly accustomed to choosing their governments, are also ever more riven across geographical, to some extent class, and quasi-ideological lines. These interlocking and fundamental challenges concern the relationship between Bangkok and its peripheries; persistent income inequality; and the reality that the country’s leaders – caught in a clash between those for whom the popular ballot is paramount and those for whom majoritarianism masks its own form of tyranny – find dogmatism easier to come by than statesmanship.

After months of political turmoil, the economy is sluggish. In spite of its proclaimed anti-populism, the military has found no alternative to extensive public spending. The decade-old separatist insurgency in the Malay-Muslim-majority southern provinces grinds on. The NCPO insists it will pursue dialogue with militant leaders, but its refusal to countenance any form of special administration for the region calls into question the rationale for talks.

Absent a change of course, the NCPO’s suspension of civil liberties, media censorship and measures to remove the power of elected officials appear to foreclose any possibility of achieving its stated aim of establishing democracy. Thailand’s biggest need is for a national dialogue to forge consensus on its future political direction; to settle on a shared notion of democracy; and to ensure that the majoritarian will can be respected in the form of a fully empowered executive and legislature, while protecting the interests of all.

Stronger institutions for representation and accountability are the best hope for more responsive and resilient government. Without them, individuals and groups are cast back upon opaque patron-client relations to secure their interests. The independent agencies must be impartial and the independence of the judiciary upheld. There needs to be consideration as to whether greater decentralisation could accommodate regional differences and reduce the stakes of controlling national government. Until state power answers to elected authority, stability and democracy will be elusive. This requires, in part, that elected authorities observe limits on power that ensure transparency and protect the rights of political minorities; addressing corruption, a significant challenge, will require concerted measures within that democratic framework.

Like the 1991 and 2006 coups, that of 2014 did not provoke an immediate violent backlash. Many welcomed the army’s intervention to restore order, stamp out corruption and “move the country forward”. But both earlier coups eventually resulted in deadly confrontations between troops and protesters. The current build-up of pressures suggests that past may prove to be prologue.

Brussels/Bangkok, 3 December 2014

A Buddhist monk walks with pro-democracy protesters as they carry large inflatable ducks during a march to the 11th Infantry Regiment as part of an anti-government rally in Bangkok on 29 November 2020. Jack TAYLOR / AFP
Commentary / Asia

Calls to Curb the Crown’s Writ Put Thailand on Edge

Young pro-democracy protesters have roiled Thai politics with a previously taboo demand to reform the country’s monarchy. As the state resists change, and conservative citizens recoil, the risk of violence is growing. The standoff poses Thailand’s existential question: is the king sovereign or are the people? 

At a small, rain-soaked pro-democracy rally in Thailand’s north-eastern city of Nakhorn Ratchasima in early October, three young women staged a performance entitled “Who Killed the People?” Appearing first as a trio of anonymous figures bound together by tangled cords, through silent dance and mime their roles emerged: monarch, military and people. In the play’s denouement, “the military” killed “the people” – invoking the massacres of pro-democracy protesters in 1973, 1976, 1992 and 2010 – while the third character struck a regal pose and waved to the crowd. The “monarch” then wrapped the corpse in a Thai flag and deposited her among the audience. 

In a country where public discussion of the monarchy was taboo until just a few months ago, this performance was one of innumerable examples of the creativity and fearlessness of Thai youth in pressing for change as part of the protest movement that has rattled the kingdom since July. It was also an encapsulation of the protesters’ narrative: Thailand’s ruling establishment, including the monarchy, is oppressive; in opposing this establishment, the protesters are heirs to a tradition of resistance to autocracy and dictatorship; and their struggle is a matter of life and death.

Events have unfolded incredibly fast. Earlier this year, a burgeoning student-led pro-democracy movement had been energised by the judicial dissolution of the progressive Future Forward Party, a new formation which captured some six million votes in the 2019 general election. The pandemic soon hamstrung the movement but, after lockdown was lifted in June, protests began to regain momentum, further galvanised by the enforced disappearance of an exiled activist in Cambodia. Protesters demanded the resignation of Prime Minister Prayuth Chan-ocha, leader of the 2014 coup d’état who remained in office following the 2019 elections; a new constitution reflecting popular participation to replace the 2017 charter drafted by the junta’s appointees; and a fresh general election.

A new chapter opened on 3 August when Anon Nampa, a human rights lawyer, publicly called for bringing the king under the constitution. A week later, at another rally, student Panusaya “Rung” Sithijirawattanakul read a detailed ten-point manifesto on reforming the Thai monarchy. Since these earthshaking events, this demand has shifted from the edges of a quixotic quest – what protest leaders called a “dream” at first – to the movement’s core. Unimaginable just a few months ago, the call for reform is an unvarnished expression of the legitimacy conflict that has beset Thailand since the absolute monarchy ended in 1932, namely: who is sovereign, the people or the king?

The movement has fused political and cultural issues.

The Nakhorn Ratchasima rally was one in a series staged in the provinces leading up to a major demonstration planned for Bangkok on 14 October, in part to commemorate the 1973 student-led uprising that brought down a corrupt military dictatorship. Several of the speakers were high school students, who have imbued the movement with much of its verve and indignation, directed especially against the sclerotic educational system. The range of issues addressed on stage reflected how the movement has fused political and cultural issues. Topics included everything from the need for safe and affordable public transport to the harmony of democracy, feminism and gender equality; from authoritarianism and corruption to class discrimination in schools; and from abuse of conscripts in the military to the need for constitutional change and monarchical reform. The common denominator, expressed in both the event’s style and its substance, was the imperative of overturning the rigid hierarchies that characterise Thai politics and society – and rejecting the servility and deference inherent in royalist nationalism. 

Coming at the King

It was inevitable that the monarchy’s role would change after the 70-year reign of King Bhumibol Adulyadej, or Rama IX, the ninth ruler of the Chakri dynasty. But even after his death in October 2016, this change was difficult to envision largely because his reign had come to define the Thai monarchy in the popular imagination. The palace was weak and subordinate to the military when he ascended the throne as a teenager, but in alliance with the military and the business elite, King Bhumibol worked hard to restore the institution’s power and prestige. From the late 1970s to the 2006 coup d’état, the monarchy achieved new heights of moral authority and influence. This period represented the Bhumibol consensus, an era of royalist hegemony with three main characteristics: it was driven by elites and their interests; distribution of power and benefits was hierarchical and clientelist, rather than egalitarian; and it was authoritarian, with a strong moralistic bent. 

From the late 1970s to the 2006 coup d’état, the monarchy achieved new heights of moral authority and influence.

The unravelling of the Bhumibol consensus began before the 2006 coup that ousted Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, whose electoral prowess stood as an implicit challenge to the monarchy, and picked up pace as the king’s health declined in his final decade. As Thaksin’s parties continued to dominate elections, officers orchestrated another coup, in 2014, leading to five years of military rule, a new constitution (Thailand’s twentieth) designed to limit elected authority, and a stilted 2019 general election that resulted in the junta’s top leaders remaining in power. An unspoken rationale for the coup was for the junta to preside over the royal succession.

Many observers of Thai politics anticipated that the reign of Bhumibol’s only son, King Maha Vajiralongkorn, would coincide with a waning of royal prestige, not least because Thais had already formed opinions about the crown prince’s character; his mother once described him as a “Don Juan” and he has been married four times. Since ascending the throne, Rama X has acted repeatedly to aggrandise himself, for example, requiring changes to the 2017 constitution – after it was approved in a referendum – to facilitate his rule from abroad, forbidding his older sister from running for political office, and taking personal control of the Crown Property Bureau’s vast wealth. He has spent most of his reign in Germany, apparently at leisure.

The 14 October rally in Bangkok marked a turning point, bringing the monarchy directly into the fray. A royal motorcade carrying the queen and the king’s son took an unanticipated detour through an area where demonstrators were gathered. The protesters were non-violent, but they jeered the procession, some shouting “My fucking taxes!” This incident, which scandalised royalists, served as a pretext for the government to declare a “serious state of emergency”; three people were later charged with “threatening the queen’s liberty”, which carries a sentence of sixteen years to life in prison. Two days later, the Border Patrol Police deployed water cannons against peaceful protesters in central Bangkok. The images of students armed with umbrellas hosed down by dyed water laced with chemical irritants won the movement the public’s sympathy. Defying the ban on demonstrations, protesters rallied almost every day, attracting ever larger crowds. The government rescinded the serious state of emergency after only a week.

The 14 October rally in Bangkok marked a turning point, bringing the monarchy directly into the fray.

Since then, protests have repeatedly targeted the royal institution. On 26 October, tens of thousands marched to the German embassy, urging investigation of the king’s activities in Germany, while on 8 November, demonstrators were stopped by the police as they attempted to deliver their letters of grievance at the Grand Palace. The following week, thousands of protesters at the Democracy Monument turned their backs on a royal motorcade, raising the three-finger salute (a gesture of defiance borrowed from the Hunger Games film series, which has become a symbol of the protests) and singing the national anthem. On 18 November, graffiti left at a protest scene in front of the national police headquarters insulted the monarchy in profane terms. 

Protest leaders declared their intention to rally at the Crown Property Bureau office on 24 November but, in light of heavy security deployments, changed their target to the Siam Commercial Bank, in which the king is the largest shareholder. Speakers outside the bank’s headquarters that night criticised the monarch’s expansive and opaque financial holdings. Five days later, they rallied in front of the 11th Infantry Regiment base to highlight the king’s assumption of direct control of key Bangkok military units.

Royalist Reactions

The sudden emergence of a popular, youth-led movement questioning the role of the palace in Thai politics is of epoch-making significance. Royalist nationalism has been the cornerstone of Thailand’s political order for decades, enshrined in successive constitutions as “the democratic system with the king as head of state”. The state portrays the monarchy as one of the kingdom’s three pillars, along with nation and religion. A movement to place the monarchy within a framework of accountability threatens the prevailing political order – especially the generals and oligarchs who most benefit from it.

The sudden emergence of a popular, youth-led movement questioning the role of the palace in Thai politics is of epoch-making significance.

The Prayuth government has struggled to handle the protests. Apart from blocking protesters from reaching certain symbolic locations, authorities have so far permitted demonstrations to proceed, focusing their energy on heaping charges on the main leaders but also granting them bail. Its only sop to the movement has been to allow parliament to consider amending the constitution. Few, however, are optimistic that these deliberations will result in substantive change. With the junta-appointed senate in effect wielding a veto, many see the process as a charade aimed at preserving the status quo rather than accommodating demands for change. 

In the face of increasingly strident and unfiltered public denunciations of the monarchy, the government is shifting from a permissive approach to a firmer, more suppressive strategy. On 19 November, Prime Minister Prayuth stressed that “all laws and all articles” would be brought to bear on the protesters – a clear indication that charges under Section 112 of the Criminal Code, the lèse-majesté law that carries a penalty of three to fifteen years, could be revived. Since then, at least 33 people, mostly protest leaders, have been summoned to face charges under this law, including a sixteen-year-old. In June, Prayuth acknowledged that the law had been in abeyance since late 2017 at the “merciful” king’s request, leading many to wonder who is responsible for the sudden reversal in policy. 

Meanwhile, the palace has undertaken an atypical public relations offensive. The king came back from Germany on 10 October for an unusually long sojourn in his domain. Various religious and ceremonial duties have afforded opportunities for the royal family to greet their ardent supporters. These stage-managed events are a departure for the king, whose persona during his normally brief visits to the kingdom had so far been austere and aloof. The campaign suggests a concerted effort to rally royalists and improve the monarch’s image. But the king’s well-publicised words of encouragement to prominent ultra-royalists during some of these events, and statements appearing to take sides in the political conflict, have done nothing to soothe tensions. These public appearances stand little chance of swaying the protesters.

Conservative Thais are unnerved by the demands for monarchical reform.

Conservative Thais, however, are unnerved by the demands for monarchical reform and, most recently, the open discussion of republicanism. Reactions have often been frantic. Given the royalists’ belief that love of the monarchy is an essential trait of Thai-ness, they blame foreign interference for the protests. On 27 October, a small group demonstrated in front of the U.S. embassy, accusing Washington of waging “hybrid war” on Thailand; signs held by protesters singled out the conspiracy theorists’ bête noire, George Soros. Even Prime Minister Prayuth has hinted that malevolent foreign forces are instigating the protests, though he has offered no evidence. 

Royalists rail against those they call “nation haters” and have urged reactionary measures. Some have advocated for social sanctions against protesters, such as denying them employment or asking parents to disown their rebellious children. On 9 November, a group under the banner of the People’s Network to Protect the Royal Institution delivered letters to the prime minister’s office and the army commander calling on the government to “shut down” the country in the monarchy’s defence, which many interpreted as a demand for a coup. The leader of the Thai Pakdee (Loyal Thai) group, former politician Warong Dechgitvigrom, even suggested that absolute monarchy should be temporarily restored as a way out of the crisis.

Sectarian Rift?

The fevered royalist response points to the moral dimension of the conflict in Thai society. Under King Bhumibol, the Theravada Buddhist notion of the king as a future Buddha and perfect being was revived in the service of royalist nationalism. As Patrick Jory writes in Thailand’s Theory of the Monarchy (2016), the egalitarianism inherent in democratic politics “posed a mortal threat” to a political order based on hierarchy and deference. As a result, those who challenge the status quo “have been represented by their royalist opponents as morally reprehensible”. 

Religious undertones impart an unpredictable and explosive dynamic to the current moment. Many older Thais who came of age in the heyday of King Bhumibol’s reign internalised the link between hierarchy and morality, and are disconcerted at demands for change. Still others, especially those who benefit most from the status quo, are furious. To royalists, those who demand monarchical reform are not just disloyal but heretical. In late October, the arch-royalist and retired General Dr. Rianthong Nanna, told a reporter that it was “natural” for loyal Thais to use violence against the monarchy’s critics. Demonisation of opponents and casual justifications for brutality highlight the risk of violence looming over Thailand as a new generation, impervious to the reverence their elders are accustomed to, refuses to back down. As tensions rise, there is a growing possibility of miscalculation, inadvertent confrontation or even acts of provocation that authorities could use to justify a crackdown. 

The risk of violence has grown significantly since pro-monarchy counter-demonstrators have started taking to the streets in recent weeks.

The pro-democracy protests have been overwhelmingly peaceful, particularly compared to earlier waves of mass demonstrations. But the logic of non-violent social movements does not preclude violent outcomes, and the risk of violence has grown significantly since pro-monarchy counter-demonstrators have started taking to the streets in recent weeks, often organising rallies in proximity to the pro-democracy gatherings. On 17 November, near parliament, police retreated from their position between the two groups, allowing for violent scuffles. More than 50 people were treated for injuries, mostly related to inhalation of tear gas, but at least six people were shot (none fatally) by unidentified gunmen. 

Street protests alone will not upend the status quo. The protesters achieve leverage only when the establishment coalition begins to fracture. There is anecdotal evidence that many rank-and-file police officers and civil servants are sympathetic to demands for reform, but protests have not achieved the critical mass that would compel people to choose sides. A decision to defect from the establishment may have many causes, such as a recalculation of material interests, or developments that prick the conscience, like state violence against peaceful protesters. A Thai analyst called the activists’ strategy a “gambit … to provoke the police enough so that they will clamp down hard on the protesters” in order to sway public opinion. It is unlikely that the government could forcefully quash criticism of the monarchy without also exciting the opposition of greater numbers of Thai people.

How Does It End?

Absent from royalist analysis is a positive argument for how Thai people benefit from maintaining a royal institution that is staggeringly wealthy, politically engaged and above the law. Instead, as political scientist Suchit Bunbongkarn observed in Monarchy and Constitutional Rule in Democratizing Thailand (2012), royalists tend to argue that political legitimacy is culturally specific, and that reverence for the monarchy is essential to Thai culture. Thus, one hears royalist claims that “All Thais love the king”, Thais cannot tolerate criticism of the monarchy and critics of the king cannot be real Thais. In a defence of the lèse-majesté law (in the same volume cited above), royalist legal scholar Bowornsak Uwanno argued that any limits on freedom of expression arising from Thailand’s defamation laws “reflect the ethical and cultural norms that most Thais adhere to”. Such contentions raise the question of whether the kingdom’s laws are a reflection of apparent norms, or their cause. 

And what happens when norms change? The protest movement should be understood as an effort to bring social and political institutions into better alignment with emerging cultural norms and the need for structural change. Many protest leaders recognise that the horizon for the reforms they seek necessarily extends years into the future. One of their slogans, “Let it end in our generation”, combines a sense of urgency with an acknowledgment that change takes time. Whatever happens next, long-term transformation is already in train. Bowornsak conceded that culture is not static: “As the Buddhist law of impermanence states, everything, the lèse-majesté law included, arises, exists and perishes, as the society’s ethical and cultural norms evolve in accordance with this same Buddhist law. Nothing is permanent”. 

The question is, can the conflict be managed so that, in the near term, Thailand avoids the spasms of violence that have occurred in the past when popular sovereignty has challenged the royalist status quo? The signs are discouraging. Thailand’s history points to a pattern of state violence against proponents of change. The conflict’s high stakes reduce prospects for compromise and divisions are hardening. Finally, there are no institutions or mechanisms not already implicated in the conflict available to help strike bargains. The obvious pathway out of the crisis is to empower elected institutions that can reflect the popular will, reconcile majoritarianism with protection of fundamental rights, and manage a process of achieving a fresh consensus on political legitimacy. But Thailand’s parliament, enfeebled by the 2017 constitution and the powerful appointed senate, is unlikely to serve this function. By resisting change, the government is increasing the likelihood of a dangerous confrontation.

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