For different reasons, Thais will miss Chuwit

He could have been showing bitterness, or defiance, or both. Chuwit Kamolvisit greeted the Supreme Court’s verdict, sentencing him to two years in jail for the razing of Sukhumvit Road beer stalls, in the same eccentric manner we’re all familiar with. “You will miss me,” he said after the highest court decided to take away his freedom. 

Thais will indeed miss him, albeit for various, different reasons. The “bad boy” of Thai politics has equal shares of fans, ambivalent observers and outright haters. He has been a colourful figure in Parliament, for better or worse, garnering fame not because he showed integrity or goodness but because he was widely seen as unpretentiously bad.

While Chuwit was perceived as open and straightforward, such characteristics did not emerge on every issue. He readily admitted to paying bribes to police in the past but was never forthcoming about allegations he was a violent boyfriend and a wife-beater. Chuwit always seemed selective in his displays of honesty and used good timing to gain the utmost political benefit from his “confessions”.

In fact, Chuwit has always been a typical Thai politician. He’s rich and flamboyant, often boasting of struggling in childhood. He had a questionable business background and apparently entered politics to overcome that reputation. He understood the media and used them well. All these made him similar to many politicians, barring the fact that he was among the rare few who openly talked about the bad things he did.

He was caught on video losing his temper in a dispute with another man. He gave a TV interview clad only in underwear, even though the interviewer was a woman. When rumours surfaced that he would be moving to America to escape the court verdict, he posted a video clip online in which he said he was “man enough” to face jail. If his past actions warranted a prison term, he said, then so be it.

Chuwit’s “charming” moments could never mask the fact that he was involved in the massage-parlour business, which he kept afloat by bribing police. They couldn’t excuse his sending a gang of men to demolish bars and other structures belonging to people who claimed they had legitimate leases. And, once he was in politics, he was confident enough of his fame to run in a Bangkok gubernatorial election.

Last week the Supreme Court decided that Chuwit and 43 others must be punished for the bar-wrecking incident. The highest court upheld convictions by lower courts, but reduced the jail term from five to two years for each defendant, including Chuwit. Pro-Chuwit comments in the wake of the Supreme Court ruling have generally questioned why the justice system spares far worse offenders. It’s a sound question where the big picture is concerned, but just as interesting is the fact that none of Chuwit’s defenders has said he’s innocent.

The notion of people “missing him” while he’s in prison actually stems from the unique flaws of our political and justice systems. His business background, political role and several rounds of hide-and-seek with the law raise more serious questions than simply whether he will be missed.

Did Chuwit deserve the punishment? If not, why not? Should the same justice standard be employed equitably across the political spectrum? Is punishing Chuwit a good start, or is it little more than a blip of good justice? 

These are the key questions highlighting a maverick politician’s nonchalant departure for prison.