The month of May and two bloody political crises
The uprisings in 1992 and 2010 were very different, but Thais have managed to return to democracy
Any Thai who marks the anniversaries of the May 1992 “mobile phone mob” uprising and May 2010 red-shirt uprising with the same solemn sincerity should be commended. From a general observation, it’s unlikely that there are many such people. The country’s political divide has run deep and the two bloody events do not share many crucial things in common.
There appeared to be similarities. People died in both incidents, the majority of them killed by military bullets. Most of the dead were protesters who had set out to fight “military-backed” governments of their times. Last but not least, the two uprisings followed the overthrow of democratically elected administrations by military generals. Like the Thaksin government in 2006, the Chatichai Choonhavan regime toppled in the 1991 coup was also accused of corruption.
On the surface, both bloody uprisings seemed to be motivated by the same ideology, which renounced political intervention by men in uniform. Truth is, such assumption is all but wrong. Despite the similarities, there are crucial factors that differentiate the two events. It can be arguably said that the first event sowed seeds for the latter, but it can’t be said that both sets of protesters shared the same ideas on democratic corruption and the armed forces’ role in politics.
The Chatichai government was not the first choice of the middle-class. The late PM’s administration featured primarily rural politicians, just like the Thaksin government. That the uprising which followed the downfall of the Chatichai government involved mostly urban protesters was intriguing.
What made the apparently anti-military middle-class change its attitude toward military intervention in politics? It’s a long story, parts of which harbour complicated subtlety. Somehow and for quite a long while, Thais had managed to hide their subtle differences when the issues of democracy, corruption and military intervention were concerned. Those differences exploded in the middle of the last decade into a major political crisis that remains unsolved until today.
The differences manifested themselves in the way both camps of Thais have interpreted the “soul” of the 1997 “People’s Constitution”. One half of Thailand sees a symbol of renouncement of military opportunism, whereas the other half believes that the charter’s true essence was its anti-graft mechanisms, many of which continue to function today. This is apparently the reason why many people who “demand” resurrection of the now-defunct 1997 charter don’t want the likes of the Constitution Court to play any powerful role in politics in the future.
How deep Thailand’s divide goes can be seen in the fact that people can’t even agree which May uprising – the one in 1992 and the other in 2010 – is more idealistic. Debate on the subject can also be highly acrimonious. But while nobody can give an answer that is acceptable to all, unavoidable truth is that both events are part of our political history.
Thais have to live with both events, although saying that we must learn from them has become a boring cliché, and to suggest that May 2010 may be the last political bloodbath in this country could be wishful thinking. But despite the cruel political flux in the aftermath of May 1992 and the widening rifts before and after May 2010, some force has always been there to bring about true democracy, one that is effective, transparent and immune to both corruption and military intervention. That force had largely given way to bad politics even before May 1992 up until now. Finger pointing has made things worse. Thailand, however, cannot give up hope on that force. After all, it’s our only hope that the “two nations” in one country can eventually co-exist in peace, no matter how long that may take.
