Yongyuth Tiyapairat, the minister for Natural Resources and Environment and a staunch protege of Thaksin, last week blasted Channel 7, a television station owned by the Royal Thai Army, for interrupting a popular prime-time soap opera with a news update on the anti-Thaksin rally at Sanam Luang. He also faulted Channel 9, which is operated by the Mass Communications Organisation of Thailand, for airing an interview with a 10-year-old boy from Khon Kaen who has been a regular at the Sanam Luang rallies.

With the exception of Channel 11, which is run by the Public Relations Department, all the free TV channels seem to have made extraordinary efforts by Thai broadcast journalism standards to cover the anti-Thaksin activities. It's not that their political coverage is groundbreaking in any sense. But the fact that they do consistently give more airtime to views critical of the current political leadership is unprecedented. And this is probably what has set off the alarm bells for Thaksin and the people around him.

From the outset, Thaksin gave every impression he was a firm believer in media control. His immense wealth and unprecedented political power gave him both the carrot and stick to get the media to toe the line. While he might have had difficulty co-opting some of the mainstream print media, the broadcast media presented the least worry.

The current structure of the broadcast industry ensures that politicians in power have direct control over all broadcasters. Thaksin, therefore, had every reason to believe the broadcasters should know where their loyalty lay in this present political crisis.

It was the same political mindset that prevailed among the powers-that-once-were during the May 1992 uprising. The Suchinda administration did everything it could to make sure all the state-owned TV stations did not stray from the official line.

Under political pressure, all the broadcasters resorted to what was essentially an attempt at whitewashing the military crackdown on the pro-democracy demonstration. It was only a handful of newspapers that remained defiant throughout by siding with the pro-democracy movement and reporting truthfully about the bloody suppression, despite threats and intimidation from the authorities.

The censorship, however, backfired. Tens of thousands of people took to the streets, angry that they were being lied to by the state-owned media, which tried to portray the pro-democracy protestors as troublemakers and lawbreakers.

After 14 years Thai politics appears to have come full cycle. Thaksin is facing the people's wrath just as then prime minister Suchinda Kraprayoon did in 1992. Though the circumstances might be different, the essence of the public discontent is largely the same: the need to fight a political dictatorship in the making.

When Thaksin and his lieutenants blast the media for being "biased", they certainly ignore the fact that the media are merely reflecting the views of vast sectors of society frustrated with the corruption, conflicts of interest and cronyism prevalent in the administration.

While it is fair to say the media in general are freer today than they were during Thaksin's first term, it's too premature to jump to the conclusion that they are all operating without political constraints or that their political news coverage is being guided purely by journalistic principles.

Even while they devote more airtime to the ongoing anti-Thaksin rally at Sanam Luang, the broadcasters often have to remind themselves of the limits to their freedom. A high degree of self-censorship still exists at all broadcast media outlets. Ever since Thaksin came to power in 2001, broadcasters have dutifully internalised the demands of politicians by staying away from politically sensitive issues. This should not have come as a surprise because practically every major broadcaster operated with a business mindset, and it was unthinkable to try to cross the incumbent power holders.

The decision of some of the TV stations to be more truthful in their reporting on the current political crisis at the risk of earning the ire of those in power is, therefore, a much welcome breath of fresh air - no matter how small it is.

The broadcasters might be dreading the thought of a repeat of what happened in the 1992 uprising, for which they were partly responsible, or they have found the public discontent with the political leadership too intense and widespread to ignore. But whatever the reason, the broadcast media - especially their journalists out in the field - deserve credit for raising audience awareness of the magnitude of the crisis.

If Thaksin does believe that he is not being given a fair amount of space in the media, he has only himself to blame. Ever since the controversial Shin Corp share deal began making headlines, Thaksin has never given a single press conference to answer charges of conflict of interest and of stock manipulation to evade taxes.

Instead he chose the more comfortable turf of his weekly radio address to mount what seemed more like a public relations campaign to hit back at his critics, or consented to ad hoc interviews on Government House steps so that he could simply walk away when confronted with unpalatable questions.

And even when he did address the accusations against him, especially those surrounding the controversial Shin Corp share sale and his subsequent decision to dissolve the House, Thaksin has sounded like an old record with phrases like "I did nothing wrong" or "I am victim of political slander". All questions about ethics and political impropriety were dismissed off-hand.

Thaksin, one of the most media-savvy leaders Thailand has ever had, should know that he could not expect them to fill their pages or airtime with tired, rehashed copy day after day. In an extraordinary time like this, the public deserves better than political rhetoric.

There is a huge difference between what politicians want to say and what the public wants to know.

Thepchai Yong

The Nation