Selective Enforcement of Emergency Decree

Hundreds of people gathered in Bangkok a couple days ago, to protest (again) Cambodia’s claim to an ancient temple along the border. Normally such a protest isn’t big news, as the issue flares up every few years. Thai politicians tend to stoke it when they hope to divert the public’s attention away from something more immediate or embarrassing.

But this time an emergency decree was supposedly in force that prevents the assembly of more than five people. Not only that, this protest was led by a fellow who has long been associated with the same group that shut down the airport with impunity during a chaotic week at the end of 2008. (Nobody has yet been prosecuted for that upper-class sit-in, while several people from lower spheres who were involved with this year’s downtown protests have not only been arrested but had their assets frozen.)

Several international human rights groups criticized the government for extending the state of emergency earlier this month. Then last Sunday, a bomb at a bus stop in central Bangkok killed one man and injured several others, around the same time that the government-backed winner of a close parliamentary by-election was announced, leading the prime minister to comment that the extension had been the right decision.

To be consistent in applying the “rule of law” (a concept politicians trot out when it suits), the government would have had to break up Tuesday’s temple dispute gathering. However, in this case the protesters’ cause has wide appeal, as often happens when issues get associated with patriotism. The protest leader acknowledged flouting the decree, but said he was willing to risk the consequences for the sake of “safeguarding Thai sovereignty.”

Pee Rahat

Here’s a Thai tradition I hadn’t known about before it was brought to my attention this week. College freshmen routinely receive the name of a sophomore who will shepherd them through the first year of school. The older one (“pee”) gives without expectation of return, providing books, treats, advice, rides home. Assignments are random—based on the students’ ID number, or code (“rahat”)—but not voluntary. Everyone gets a pee rahat who is studying the same thing they are. This intradepartmental social service, for some, is the first experience of helping or being helped by a non-family member.

Of course the system’s success varies. Some people I asked about it told me that they couldn’t remember the name of their pee rahat, and admitted that when it was their turn they didn’t take it very seriously. Yet one woman I spoke to remembered the connection to her freshman as “much better than a boyfriend.” She is still in touch with him and his whole family, and feels more like his older sister than like a mentor.

At the core of the tradition is the patron-client relationship that plays out so often in Thai workplaces. People never forget their place in the hierarchy.

Half a Decade

The verdict on Thailand, five years after arriving here: it’s still working for us. Whether or not it’s working for the average Thai person is another question.

Jip and I continue to be grateful for the many ways both of our lives have improved since we moved from Seattle. We neither expected nor earned that improvement, yet it’s undeniable. We’re healthier, richer, and much sunnier than we would have been had we stayed in the States.

OK, it’s true this place has had its ups and downs in the past year. My return to Bangkok from Spain last month didn’t generate the same little jolt of glad-to-be-home excitement that I’ve felt on most previous returns to Thailand. (Then again, any place would have seemed a little discouraging by contrast with the two weeks I had just spent with some of my favorite people anywhere.)

I'm over that little letdown now. Rainy season in the land of smiles is floating my boat. It’s a great time for running and reflection. Not to mention, Jip is in great form.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could say the same thing about the Thai political discourse? Alas, progress along the reconciliation roadmap is all but invisible. The country’s institutions just don’t seem up to the task of talking.

Maybe those conversations are going on beneath the surface. To the casual observer, though, there’s been virtually no change to the established order here, in spite of the damage done to Thailand’s reputation and economy by the airport occupations and street confrontations. Elites (and that group includes Jip and me, by the way) still follow a different set of rules from everybody else.

Or maybe, in this part of the world, change doesn’t happen through talk. Lots of people here feel it’s best if a few “phuu yai” make the decisions. Democracy, despite its many trappings throughout the region, is often seen as defective at best, pointless at worst.

Having said that, restlessness is definitely in the air. Although right now appears to be an intermission in the ongoing drama of Thai politics, the times they are a-changin’. The 21st century has brought information and influence to people from all walks of life in Thailand. The country’s mood is temperamental, and unlikely to get less so any time soon.

Composite Sketch

A copy of The Economist magazine’s year-end special issue came my way this week. Though it was already several months old, “The World in 2010” seemed worth skimming. An article that asked “Will 2010 Be a Year of Social Unrest?” caught my eye, and I thought of Thailand’s recent troubles.

Falling incomes, rising unemployment, and weakened middle classes led off the story—not much new there. Then the piece suggested that a given country’s “vulnerability to unrest depends on a host of factors.” My eyes widened as I scanned the list: degree of income inequality, state of governance, levels of social provision, ethnic tensions, public trust in institutions, history of unrest, and the type of political system (“intermediate regimes that are neither consolidated democracies nor autocracies seem the most vulnerable”). Lots of countries fit lots of those descriptions, but the article described Thailand particularly well.

Last week the government chose to extend the state of emergency in most of the provinces where it had first been declared in April. Western reaction to that decision so far has been critical, suggesting that the continuing arrests of red-shirt leaders and closing of opposition-friendly media outlets can’t help but lead to more violence. The Thai ruling class probably fears that anything hinting at compromise with the demonstrators is an invitation for the military to stage yet another coup.

Even though things are calm at the moment, and signs promoting Thai unity (“Together We Can”) have sprouted up everywhere since mid-May, 2010 will likely be a long year.

The Cup in Southeast Asia

Fresh from watching Germany take apart Argentina, let’s review Thailand’s reaction to the World Cup so far.

Wound up? Not much, unless you consider most of the country staying awake until 4am, when the marquee matches finish around here, to be a sign of excitement. Caught up? I’d have to say yes, given how many taxi drivers have been able to recall for me the scores from group stage matches that concluded more than two weeks ago (“Greece-Nigeria? That ended 2-1, if I’m not wrong.”) Vocal? Well, having lived in the same apartment for more than three years, we’ve hardly ever heard a sound from our neighbors… until the past few early mornings.

In a word, the Cup is consuming. Walking in to any of the thousands of 7-Eleven stores here, customers are greeted by clerks sporting t-shirts of the favored teams. Flags of the surviving countries hang from the ceilings. Strangers ask each other who they’re cheering for.

Next door in Burma things are apparently even more energized. According to the Irrawaddy magazine, officials there have magically become able to supply the capital with enough electricity to ensure that all of the games are broadcast live and without interruption. Normally Burmese citizens can count on only a few hours of power per day, particularly during the dry season, when hydro plants run at less than full capacity. Finally, the peoples’ interests overlap the government’s!