One word punctuated the political atmosphere: Thaksin. One was either for or against the man. Some said Thaksin was the perfect product of democracy, and he deserved to compete in it. Others warned that Thaksin was a wolf in sheep's clothing, working to undermine democracy.

Sure, the coup ended Thai democracy, but what kind of democracy was it?

How could Thaksin be democratic and yet be undermining democracy? That depends on how we define democracy. A minimalist definition of representative democracy sees it as merely procedural - where voters select candidates to fill legislative and executive positions in regular, competitive elections. In return, these candidates do not necessarily need to be responsive to electors.

A fuller definition - the one on which Thailand's 1997 constitution was based - points to a liberal conception. A liberal democracy extends beyond the procedural to include a clear separation of powers, rule of law, decentralisation of power and civil liberties maintained by an enforced constitution. So democracy is a matter of degree. It can be minimalist, maximalist or somewhere in between.

From 1978 to 2001, Thailand moved slowly but surely in the direction of liberal democracy. Though the military intervened in 1991, the intercession proved fleeting. Democracy continued toward consolidation. Yet, in 2006, after five years of Thaksin, many felt that Thai democracy had been perverted. May 2006 saw Pairoj Vongvipanond, an economics lecturer at Chulalongkorn University, opine that Thailand's political system was becoming similar to that of some Latin American countries.

One contemporary variant of democracy in Latin America is called delegative democracy. According to Guillermo O'Donnell, a faculty member at Notre Dame University's Kellogg Institute for International Studies, delegative democracies derive from the notion that the person who wins a presidential or parliamentary election is enabled to govern as he or she sees fit. The elected leader becomes the main custodian of the national interest, which it is incumbent upon him to define. On a continuum, delegative democracies are closer to illiberal democracies than they are to liberal democracies. The only thing really democratic about delegative democracies is the practice of sending voters to the polls. Between elections, the elected leader rules virtually by decree. An independent parliament or judiciary is a mere obstacle to the elected leader's monopolisation of power. He or she generally commands a large social movement while exploiting popular divisions.

If Thaksin Shinawatra were seeking a delegative democracy for Thailand, running roughshod over checks and balances, constitutional freedoms and the rule of law, one has to wonder exactly how "democratic" his leadership was. How much democracy, then, was destroyed by the September 19 takeover? The coup, according to this view, was justified. On the other hand, if we are of the opinion that the most minimalist form of democracy is still democracy, then the coup was deplorable. These questions give rise to a host of others. When does democracy atrophy to such an extent that a non-democratic "rescue" is necessary? Who has the right to decide when democracy has dropped below the appropriate threshold? How do we measure "democracy" and "freedom" anyway? Is non-democracy always wrong?

Western concepts of the "right" approach in this case have been ambiguous at best. Western scholars begin with the assumption that democracy is right and non-democracy is wrong. It is this belief that underlies the foreign criticism of the coup. For example, just after the takeover, Australia said that the Thai military had "destroyed" democracy.

The coup in Bangkok has re-energised discussion over definitions and valuations of democracy. Yet since the imposition of martial law, any harsh judgements of Thaksin will pale in comparison to what the military now does. Thaksin's distortion of the democratic system differs from simply voiding it. Of course, if the military returns to the barracks quickly after setting up a new prime minister and constitution, then history may not consider this coup so harshly. Then again, the military presents Thailand with three possible paths:

1 Shadows of Suchinda.

As in 1991, the military will choose to expand its power, thus losing popular support and eventually be pushed out of the political arena. Many Thai people welcomed Suchinda's 1991 coup. However, "Big Su" moved too quickly to fulfil his ambitions. As a consequence, he lost the backing of most Thais.

2 Professionalised permanently.

The military will quickly go back to the barracks, supporting a new constitution as well as the development of democracy, and never involve itself in politics again.

3 White September.

The military may succeed in uniting the country, thus enhancing its popularity and increasing its political power to dangerous levels. These generals will have learned the lessons of Suchinda, so they will bide their time before definitely returning to play a key role in Thai politics. At times, Thai people have depended on the Thai military to solve the country's political problems, but this mindset could take Thailand down the slippery slope towards the militarisation of politics as occurred in Japan earlier this century.

Whichever path the Thai military chooses will certainly depend on the mindset of the Thai people and how much they value democracy. Thailand's political future may end up reflecting what kind of democracy - and the degree of democracy - that Thai people actually prefer.

Paul Chambers and Napisa Waitoolkiat

Paul Chambers is a lecturer in political science at Chiang Mai University. Napisa Waitoolkiat is a lecturer in political science at Naresuan University