
Published on July 26, 2007
But if you watched last Saturday morning's programme with the kind of rapt attention I did, you could be excused for thinking that it was just another episode of "Comedian Sumo Tu's Weekend Show". In fact, for a few minutes, I was even misled into thinking that it was the first part of a Thai version of "Saturday Night Live!" - with someone resembling Thailand's prime minister giving the comedian a hard time instead of the other way round.
To my great surprise, I discovered that the man was actually Premier Surayud. To my even greater surprise, the premier even appeared to be enjoying himself on the air.
I could sense that Charaspong "Tu" Surasvadi was trying extra hard not to be funny. Perhaps, he wanted to prove that he could be a dead-serious and provocative TV anchor. And if you looked closely enough, the usually solemn premier looked as if he were happy for the first time to be fielding questions in this weekly series of "Open up Baan Phitsanulok" interviews.
Then I soon found that the interviewer made no pretence to impartiality in his questions. To attempt to be objective would be against his grain, perhaps. In fact, at the height of the question-answer session, "Sumo Tu" burst out: "I don't care if any of you watching this programme think I am a great supporter of the prime minister - because I am. And if you think I shouldn't be saying all these things because I am supposed to be impartial as an anchor, I don't care," he said.
You could see that General Surayud was unabashedly relaxed and beaming throughout the hour-long programme. If he felt uncomfortable over the anchor's blatant partisan expressions that relentlessly punctuated the session, he didn't show it.
The well-known entertainer made no secret of his distaste for those who oppose the draft constitution. "I don't know what they want. Don't they realise that all major constitutions in the world's history came after revolutions were staged ... be it the United States or France ..."
At this point, the premier, as if singing the same tune, chipped in, "... and also the United Kingdom".
Of course, neither Tu nor the premier made any attempt to explain that there was a huge and significant difference between revolutions and military coups.
The most provocative act of all - to me at least - was saved for the last few minutes of the interview. The anchor decided to go full blast into cheerleading mode when he said: "I am afraid, Mr Prime Minister, that we may not see the end of your political role even after the election ..."
I switched my full attention to scrutinise General Surayud's facial expression to detect any sudden change, hoping to see an abrupt show of surprise - or disagreement, or even shock. Perhaps I was being naive but nothing remotely resembling surprise registered on his face at all. He maintained his well-known unflappable poise.
Tu, by now looking extremely formal and serious, went on, perhaps deliberately raising the eyebrows of the whole country: "I am not saying that the new election won't work or that there is anything wrong with the current political process. But I personally suspect that something may happen in the future again that may put you back in a leading political role ..."
The professional comedian then added: "Of course, I know that you had not volunteered to take up the premiership this time. You were sort of forced into it. But I have my own belief that you may face that kind of pressure yet again sometime in the future ..."
He apparently meant what he said for the first time in the interview: "And I am not joking."
The premier smiled. There was a pregnant pause before General Surayud responded: "But by then, I will be too old for that sort of thing ..."
Tu pressed on. "But remember the famous saying during the American Civil War: Those with ability have the responsibility to the country when they are needed ..."
The premier simply said, almost without hesitation: "I will have to think more thoroughly about it the next time then ..."
When Surayud didn't explain that he also wasn't joking, I thought I had a major political scoop in my hands. And when not a single story on this particular exchange was reported in any of the next day's newspapers, I knew that the press had missed a hell of a story.
Suthichai Yoon