Then, he underwent a subtle shift with his ironclad statement, “I will die in office.” The tone might still be unyielding, but there was a clear concession that death, albeit in the political sense, might not be all that remote. The deadline, too, might be much closer than he had thought only a few days earlier.

Not long after that soft back-pedalling, Thaksin made yet another little-noticed retreat, and few political commentators picked up on the nuance. But it was clear that the tough-talking, never-say-die leader was feeling the growing pressure for him to quit. Thaksin began to realise that his political mortality was staring him in the face. He tried to strike a new bargain. The tone remained uncompromising, but it was clear that he was in the throes of the biggest crisis in his political life.

Thaksin declared, “I won’t step down until I can find a successor who can run the country and the party.” Some observers might have jumped to the conclusion that that was a declaration of faith and intention from a supremely confident leader who was on the verge of getting a third four-year term as premier.

But I came away with a totally different interpretation. To me, that was the statement of a badly shaken prime minister who realises he is losing his grip on power and is desperately fighting for breathing room. Talking about a successor means he is preparing for his own departure. Hinting at a third term is just the unconscious self-consolation of a psychopath who isn’t quite sure he will still be in power in the next few weeks.

Thaksin has been so obsessed with his struggle for survival these past few weeks that he has lost touch with reality – and has bid farewell to his common sense. His only claim to legitimacy is his oft-repeated “19 million votes” in the last election – although a few polls this past week have suggested that the number could shrink to fewer than 9 million if an election were held today – while almost all of his other vital pillars of support have collapsed from underneath him like a house of cards.

Thaksin still lives under the illusion that he can choose his own successor. Before the scandal over his family’s sale of Shin Corp’s shares to Singapore’s Temasek Holdings last month, he might still have been arguably in possession of some semblance of legitimacy. But now, that claim has effectively evaporated. Whether he realises it or not, Thaksin no longer has the right to name his successor. The disillusioned and angry public won’t stop at calling for the ouster of Thaksin; the battle cry is for the removal of all vital traces of Thaksinomics and his “CEO-style politics”.

One tell-tale sign of being on the verge of giving up the fight if he could negotiate a way for him and his family to escape unscathed came during a closed-door session with his Thai Rak Thai members the other day. Thaksin was quoted as saying, “Even hardened criminals get their sentences commuted to half if they eventually own up to having committed the crime.” He stopped short of asking, “Could I demand the same treatment?” But it was clear what he was getting at.

As long as he stubbornly clings to the claim that 19 million voters remain on his side, Thaksin apparently still doesn’t realise the power people can have when they withdraw their consent.

His latest attempt to cool the rising political temperature against him is to convene a special joint session of Parliament to debate the ongoing political turmoil. That’s even worse than trying to lock the stable door after the horse has bolted. He has exhausted all legal arguments to defend his blatant series of conflicts of interest – so much so that his legitimacy, credibility and trustworthiness have all but vanished into thin air.

To make a bad situation even worse, Thaksin has let it be known through Deputy Premier Wissanu Krea-ngam, one of his few remaining lieutenants ready to defend him in public, that the joint parliamentary sitting will discuss only the roles of the Revenue Department, the Stock Exchange of Thailand and the Securities and Exchange Commission – not the really hot issue: the Shinawatra family’s dubious share deals and the complicated web of stock transactions, all the way from Shin headquarters in Bangkok to Singapore via the British Virgins Islands.

It’s like being cordially invited to attend a funeral, but upon arrival, the corpse has gone missing. A huge panel of doctors is still conducting the much-sought-after post-mortem; are you supposed to mourn or celebrate?

Suthichai Yoon