As one of the country's top legal experts - the qualification touted by the coup-makers - Meechai should know better than anyone what was wrong with the 1997 Constitution. Its problems had nothing to do with the poor or good parts of Thai political culture. The only thing that was wrong was people like him - those with legal power or wisdom - who failed utterly to enforce and foster its goodwill and spirit. The absence of the rule of law and checks and balances - the ills that caused our political crisis - cannot be blamed on the charter and the Thai people. The constitution was very good, but it did not get the support it deserv-ed from those who had the brains, power or influence to protect it.

The Rolls-Royce analogy is rubbing salt in the wounds of those opposed to Meechai's election as NLA president. They had questioned his credentials, citing his blanket services to controversial leaders including ousted Thaksin Shinawatra himself. Meechai has always been too close to power plays for comfort, and he was the architect of an infamous executive decree that provided immunity to military leaders blamed for the bloody crackdown on pro-democracy demonstrators during the 1992 "May Crisis".

He's doing the coup-makers, already under growing pressure and scrutiny, no good service. For the president of a junta-installed interim Parliament to criticise a much-loved charter is anything but a smart move. Meechai has in effect sowed seeds of doubt in the minds of people who have reluctantly decided to give the internationally condemned coup a chance. He has made critics here and abroad regard the coup-makers and the transitional legislature with increased suspicion as far as political reform goes. Some activist groups are already threatening to boycott the upcoming drafting of a new constitution and Meechai may inadvertently help turn more people to their side.

The saddest thing is that Meechai was repeating what the man toppled by the September 19 coup had said, virtually word for word. In an infamous statement in December 2003, Thaksin Shinawatra declared that democracy was not his goal. "One can't drive a Rolls-Royce to a rural village and fix people's problems," he said then, adding that there were times when "a pickup or good off-road vehicle will do".

What was the coup for then? We are tempted to ask this question after the president of the interim Parliament showed that apparently he shares the same ideology as the overthrown leader. We were dismayed to hear it from Thaksin. Coming from Meechai, it is very disappointing and worrisome.

There are two things that Meechai and the present powers that be must know: that ignoring the 1997 charter in the constitution-drafting process will be a disaster and that people expect absolutely no interference in the political reform procedure. The old charter must serve as a model for its values regarding civil liberty, public participation in politics and checks and balances. All we need is to find a way to effectively enforce its principles and make all Thai people cherish them.

The real reason why Thaksin had to go must be remembered. Without his sheer contempt for the principles enshrined in the 1997 Constitution, the September 19 coup would not have gone this smoothly. His attitude towards its true spirit made him do things that alienated him from much of the public and undermined his own legitimacy. It made a lot of people accept the coup with clenched jaws, hoping that some day soon Thailand would have Constitution-abiding politicians and safeguards against disrespect for the rule of law.

Despite its "revocation", the 1997 charter's spirit remains something sacred. The first man who compared it to a Rolls-Royce now has to live in exile, and if Meechai looked carefully enough at events of the past five years, he would know it wasn't the tanks that made it happen.