Much has been said about plans to hold a national referendum on the controversial charter draft. And too little has been said about the fact that, given its significant flaws, the document in no way represents a measure of the public’s political ideals. We have had constitutions full of promise, only for expectations to be dashed. Whether the draft is approved or rejected in a referendum, it perhaps won’t mean much ideologically.
The reasons why the charter draft should be put up for a national referendum are logical, or so it seems.
Before the Yingluck Shinawatra administration was ousted in the 2014 coup, its attempt to change the 2007 Constitution prompted a warning from the Constitution Court, which said that since the charter was approved by the people in a referendum, any alterations would also require a referendum.
Although that charter was negated by the 2014 coup, it’s only sensible that replacing it should have the public’s backing as well.
There is also the matter of our dire political divide to consider. A constitution that has not been approved in a referendum will inevitably be regarded as biased against half the citizenry. A referendum would at least give the current draft a semblance of legitimacy, although full legitimacy is out of the question given that the drafting is taking place under military rule.
Interim Prime Minister Prayut Chan-o-cha doesn’t seem to support holding a referendum because he thinks the campaigning ahead of it could cause trouble that might snowball out of control.
The stance is questionable. Prayut evidently fears that a referendum would open a can of worms and allow for a show of mass discontent with his decision to stage a coup. And what happened to the 2007 charter must have taught him that, even if a military-backed charter survives a referendum, its future isn’t assured.
So there are political reasons why the charter draft should and should not go to a referendum, and the debate remains inconclusive.
However, the “the real issue” has barely been touched upon, and that is the voting public’s inability to foster a sound constitution. We are more than able to write one, but what looks good on paper doesn’t necessarily translate into a system that promotes true democracy, freedom of expression, government checks and balances and political accountability.
In Thailand, constitutions have become political tools. Politicians exploit them or find loopholes in order to win and reclaim power. Our charters are never treated as representing common values that transcend ideologies or personalities.
And because of this, we are stuck in a vicious cycle of arguments – should senators be elected or appointed, how best to realign electoral zones, how should the judiciary and the legislature share the authority to deal with corruption, and so on. Thus we go on writing and rewriting new constitutions, tearing them down and writing more.
The debate will continue over whether this new draft should be voted on by the public, but it will not touch upon the most important problem, that composing the highest law of the land has become some sort of a game.
Until the debaters do pay attention to the ultimate obstacle – the question of why Thailand can have the world’s best constitution on paper and yet still manage to mess up – they will carry on arguing over the lesser issues again and again.