The looming legal action against Bangkok Governor Sukhumbh-and Paribatra poses another serious test for the country’s political system and its tendency to allocate immunity unequally when wrongdoing is alleged.
Sukhumbhand has several times been caught in the dangerous junctions where the tectonic plates of democracy and judicial principles meet. He was elected in an unprecedented landslide three years ago. His political career has always been attached to the Democrat Party, lending him both popularity and clout. Now we will get to see how the justice system handles that clout as it assesses the alleged irregularities, with the eventual ruling likely to help shape the future of our efforts at reform.
Sukhumbhand is under intense pressure to call it quits after the Office of the Auditor-General found irregularities in the Bt39.5-million “Bangkok Light of Happiness” project. It has implicated him along with eight others in charges of conspiring to manipulate the bidding on the New Year city-illumination scheme ostensibly intended to boost tourism. The Auditor-General has found several suspicious elements in the deal – the narrowest of margins between prices quoted by competitors, the withdrawal of some bidders, and the way some of the hopefuls appear to have “suddenly” come into existence at convenient moments. Sukhumbhand also stands accused to allowing a Bangkok Municipal Administration emergency fund to be used for the project.
In many ways this is a classic political scandal. It involves how a budget was established, how a project was proclaimed worthy, how suspicious money went to suspicious people, and how a popular politician is standing by his democratically won mandate in the face of criticism that it’s the wrong thing to do. Sukhumbhand has vowed to fight all charges, contrary to common practice in some countries, in which a man in his position would immediately resign.
But his ties to the Democrat Party have frayed – some would say they’re all but severed. His predecessor as governor, Apirak Kosayodhin, was a senior member of the same party, but in his case, when a corruption scandal rocked the BMA, he “did the honourable thing” and resigned. That, however, was the exception rather than the rule in Thai politics. The usual response here when facing corruption charges is to brush them off as a conspiracy fomented by political rivals.
Two scenarios are possible regarding Sukhumbhand’s fate. The National Anti-Corruption Commi-ssion could confirm the charges, which would effectively remove him from office. Or the national government could invoke the special powers of Article 44 in the interim constitution to pry him loose more quickly. By doing so, the military regime could demonstrate its commitment to ending corruption.
There is, however, irony underlying all of this, stemming from the way Sukhumbhand was re-elected last time. He was unpopular in his first term and no one expected him to earn a second chance. The expectation was that he would lose big, and yet he scored a triumph on a scale never before seen in the capital. The victory over a Pheu Thai challenger by such a wide gap was widely attributed to city voters’ fear that his loss would embolden the Shinawatra clan, which at the time was attempting to rebuild its popularity in Bangkok.
That Sukhumbhand has himself now been implicated in a scandal adds further irony, but it also underscores the fact that Thailand is always at risk of such irregularities occurring, no matter who is in charge. However, rather than allowing defeatists to defend officials accused of corruption on the grounds that everyone else is corrupt, the Sukhumbhand allegations should at the least remind us that Thailand is in chronic need of anti-corruption standards that can be applied to all, without presumption or prejudice.