

Whether Thais like it or not, Thailand witnessed the first military coup in 15 years on the night of September 19, 2006 after months of political confrontation between supporters and opponents of Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra. The junta claims that it was the best solution to prevent imminent bloodshed and overthrow an allegedly corrupt government.
This article, recently published in a special edition for the 36th anniversary of The Nation, argues that a white knight some people are searching for has never existed. It is only the matter of choice. Weerayut Chokchaimadon writes.
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It is the morning of September 20, 2006. The streets of downtown Bangkok are enjoying unusually light traffic. Cancelled are the new rounds of street protests against interim Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra's plans to run in the national election scheduled on October 15. An unexpected incident has occurred during the night.
In the rain walks a man. Approaching a tank near Government House, he smiles and hands a red rose to a soldier who is grasping his rifle in both hands.
Unable to hide how much he appreciates the new day, the man shouts, "Thank you very much!"
A number of people, meanwhile, are making their way to Government House and the nearby Royal Plaza and Ratchadamnoen Avenue. Hour by hour, the historic venues turn into funfairs. Girls pose for photos with soldiers. Children climb onto the tanks. Cameras are seen all around. Cheer and joy overwhelm this historic moment.
International news agencies are growing increasingly certain that a coup by General Sonthi Boonyaratglin to overthrow the most-beloved-and-most-hated Prime Minister Thaksin, who is visiting the US, has succeeded without firing a shot.
Just overnight, the military junta, called the Council for Democratic Reform under Constitutional Monarchy, takes control of the national administration. Thaksin's dream of ruling the country for 15 more years has suddenly collapsed. So have the people's power and the 1997 Constitution.
Democracy has struggled to take root in Thailand since the fall of the Absolute Monarchy in 1932. For decades, the civil society fought military rule to establish an electoral system that ensured that the ruling power lay in the hands of the people.
In February 1991, the late Prime Minister Chatichai Choonhavan was deposed by a military junta, led by General Sunthorn Kongsompong. After the bloodshed of the May 1992 uprising, critics believed that top-brass generals would never again have to send their tanks into the streets.
Soldiers became the most hated profession, and wearing a military uniform was not recommended when walking outside a military camp. In 2006, however, the September 19 coup proved that soldiers never die in the game of power. After nearly 15 years, they were in the streets again.
The result? They received applause and flowers. The new round of military intervention to oust another allegedly corrupt elected government was welcome.
Their claims were simple. The Thaksin government had distorted democratic principles, lacked good governance and, in the worst case, insulted the monarchy. In its five years in power, the government came under public scrutiny for attempting to consolidate power and harbouring corruption by interfering with independent agencies as well as state agencies and enterprises. It also attempted to intimidate the media. Moreover, many politicians were accused of distorting electoral processes in attempts to assume power.
These actions caused divisiveness between groups in society, leading to disunity and potential confrontation because politicians did not try to heal the rift.
Thaksin's opponents hailed the 2006 coup for saving the whole nation. They believed that premier Thaksin had given them no choice but to welcome military intervention as the "best solution" to the ongoing political crisis, nor did they want the nation to face catastrophe as pro- and anti-Thaksin camps were set for confrontation.
The coup, nevertheless, raised concerns that the old days of military rule would return to haunt the country, no matter how many times the generals promised to return power to the people.
Most foreign media and pro-democracy groups called Thaksin's downfall a big blow to democracy because the elected premier was not the only casualty. So was the 1997 Constitution.
His opponents said that democracy had already died before the coup because Thaksin kept distorting its rules to benefit his cronies while neglecting its will to serve all the people.
When the 1997 Constitution - dubbed the Peoples' Charter - was implemented, there was hope that Thailand would break the vicious cycle, which had undermined national stability and held up the nation's progress.
For decades, Thailand had witnessed elected politicians abuse state power to build their own wealth. They formed a coalition government, negotiated for benefits and stole "pieces of cake" from the state coffers. Every military coup in past decades somehow produced the same cliche: they could not stand to watch the nation crumble from the actions of corrupt politicians.
History proves that juntas stay in power for their own reasons. Unfortunately, when a new election is held, the same corrupt faces are ready to return to power.
The 1997 charter was hailed as Thailand's best political innovation of all time. The 99 drafters designed a new model of checks and balances to ensure that power was in the hands of the people while and not corrupt politicians and state officials.
Senators were elected for the first time. Independent agencies - including the National Counter Corruption Commission (NCCC), Election Commission (EC), Constitutional Court, Auditor General's Office and Administrative Court - were created to examine the government and politicians.
With more rules and tools to fight corruption, the drafters hoped the model would close the door on undemocratic means. In other words, it was designed to reduce the chances of military intervention.
Thaksin had a better chance to free Thailand from "the old politics of instability" than his predecessors when he assumed power in January 2001. His Thai Rak Thai (TRT) Party won almost half of the 500 Lower House seats, making it the biggest party in the coalition government. The party even had more power after sweeping 377 of 500 seats in the February 2005 poll, leading to the formation of the first one-party government in the 73 years of Thailand's democratic rule.
With majority power, Thaksin was expected to free his premiership of the pressure of interest groups so that he could build a new political landscape in which the politics of patronage, nepotism and corruption had no room to breathe.
It was hoped that Thaksin, having such a "people's mandate", would not bow to interest groups or political factions that, in the past, had threatened to withdraw their support from the government or turn to the opposition if the prime minister could not meet their demands.
Thaksin had a great chance to deliver his promises given during the TRT campaigns. Most spending-spree policies - including the Bt30 medical scheme, People's Bank and Village Fund - aimed to help poor people and low-income workers, who make up about 80 per cent of Thailand's population. If their quality of life improved, Thaksin believed, the country would enjoy sustainable prosperity, and the pain of the 1997 economic crisis would never return to the Kingdom.
Thaksin was a unique prime minister, however. He was known as the richest man in Thailand, although, in legal terms, he had transferred all his stakes in his family's business empire to his children. His aspirations were clear. He wanted to become one of the most powerful Asian leaders.
To attain his goal, he built his ruling TRT through shortcuts, including allying it with unpopular influential factions and merging it with other smaller parties. By enforcing the CEO style, provincial governors had to report directly to the prime minister instead of the Interior Ministry. Thaksin seemed to be attempting to tighten his grip on state power although he argued he only wanted to reform an inefficient bureaucracy.
Thaksin's claims of goodwill hardly convinced his opponents, who kept attacking him over conflicts of interest. He allegedly exploited state policies or legal loopholes to benefit his family's business empire or interest groups that backed his TRT.
Thaksin was also accused of being an agent of the "New Power", influential business groups attempting to control state power to protect their interest rather than allocate it to local administrative bodies as the 1997 charter aimed.
In late 2000, the NCCC ruled that Thaksin intended to conceal his assets, which were covered under the ownership of his servants. The graft busters asked the Constitutional Court to assert his guilt, which would ban him from assuming any political posts for five years. In the meantime, Thaksin insisted that he was innocent.
Despite the NCCC charges, a number of people, including socially respected figures, launched a campaign to collect signatures nation-wide shortly before the court ruled. They wanted to save Thaksin from being ousted by a possible guilty verdict. They believed the people's mandate given to Thaksin had not been delivered.
In August 2001, the court judges reversed the NCCC ruling and issued a verdict in favour of Thaksin by a margin of 8-7 votes.
Although Thaksin was freed from the charge, he raised doubts as to his sincerity. Ministers with good reputations were replaced with new but familiar faces, TRT financial backers or people allegedly involved in graft scandals or vote-buying.
Thaksin reshuffled his Cabinets more than ten times during his five years in power, most nothing more than a merry-go-round for political factions to share pieces of cake rather than to boost government efficiency. The range of faces in the reshuffles narrowed during his second term as some of the aides in his inner-circle entered the line-ups.
Thaksin was criticised for turning a blind eye to the alleged corruption of controversial ministers. For example, he switched a minister to another ministerial post to avoid facing a censure debate by the opposition, instead of suspending him from his duties so that he could be scrutinised.
Some ministers who were hailed for their courage in fighting the influence of heavyweights in the ruling party were removed because their will to "clean out the rubbish" had ruined "government unity." Thaksin preferred to keep the status quo.
Allegations that Thaksin had interfered in independent agencies continued to erode public faith in himself and his government.
Before the 1997 charter, all watchdog agencies had worked under the government. Thus, the real probe into fraud involving national politicians would not have been possible.
The case against Thaksin for concealing assets was the first warning that the paper tigers finally had some teeth.
Since then, the ruling TRT has allegedly interfered in selection of independent agencies' members, particularly of the NCCC, Election Commission and Constitutional Court. Was history repeating itself?
Candidates close to TRT were allegedly nominated to control the agencies to prevent probes into graft scandals involving its members.
The allegations involved the Senate, which would pick final nominees to sit in the independent agencies. It was believed that a number of senators sided with TRT and lobbied to pick TRT-sponsored candidates.
Under Thaksin, another tool of public scrutiny faced a tough journey. The press was allegedly intimidated. After the media revealed suspected graft in a number of cases, owners were either asked directly for "cooperation" or attempts were made to buy "disobedient" media companies through nominees. The "people's charter" guaranteed freedom of expression, but the ruling TRT was unwilling to accept it.
Although Thaksin's opponents had searched for the right channel to bring him down, even before he became prime minister in 2001, he mainly has himself to blame for his downfall.
When media tycoon Sondhi Limthongkul raised the flag of "royal power", leading street protests to oust him in January 2006, his aims would not have been accomplished if Thaksin had not kept ruining public faith by acting in favour of his cronies.
Thaksin would not have had to dissolve the Lower House on February 24, 2006 in a desperate bid to halt his opponents. Sondhi would have remained nothing more than Thaksin's old business partner who was heartbroken after the premier refused to grant him concessions related to his media empire.
If Thaksin had cared more about his service to the nation than his strategies to keep himself in power, many of his supporters would not have switched sides and backed his bitter opponent, the People's Alliance for Democracy (PAD) led by Sondhi and Thaksin's former mentor Chamlong Srimuang.
Above all, the military would have had no chance nor legitimacy to take over an elected government.
The sell-off of his family's stake in Shin Corp to Singapore's Temasek Holdings was only the last straw for the anti-Thaksin movement. The crisis had been growing for years.
Asserting its good will to rescue the nation, the military staged the Sept 19 coup while Thaksin was attending the United Nations Assembly in New York.
Shortly after His Majesty the King endorsed him as chief of the "reform council", Army commander-in-chief General Sonthi claimed that society was so divided that confrontation could turn into violence and bloodshed. Moreover, he said, the Thaksin administration was corrupt while Thaksin himself showed no respect for the revered monarchy. The military had to intervene in the political crisis; otherwise, the people would suffer in the end.
Sonthi insisted that his clique had no intention of clinging to power. The military only wanted to return real democracy to the people, he claimed.
In an attempt to build the junta's legitimacy, a number of charges against deposed premier Thaksin rapidly were raised in the aftermath of the coup. The Assets Examination Committee (AEC) was installed as an ad-hoc national graft buster to investigate the ousted government.
The police also charged Thaksin with lese majeste following his remarks on His Majesty on several occasions, which the junta regarded as insults.
The charges included the killings and disappearances of suspected Muslim insurgents in the southernmost provinces, which were allegedly ordered by high-ranking officials in the Thaksin government.
Following the coup, Sonthi was quick to install his ex-boss Privy Councillor General Surayud Chulanont as interim prime minister. To gain public confidence in the post-Thaksin era, Surayud promised to stay in power for only one year before an elected administration would take over. Greatly respected by national leaders and politicians, Surayud was regarded as the best choice under the shifting balance of power.
Although military-installed agencies still could not provide solid evidence to justify the claims for seizing power, the junta has ignored the awkward situation and done everything that critics warned could revive memories of the military dictatorships of the past decades.
A day after the coup, Sonthi and his coup leaders promised to stay in power only two weeks before a civilian interim government assumed power. In fact, the junta did not go away. Instead, it turned into the most powerful body in the Kingdom.
Duplicating the model of the 1991 coup maker - the National Peace-keeping Council - the junta under Sonthi took the first step in whitewashing itself and diverting public attention from its intentions by renaming itself as the Council for National Security (CNS) when the 2006 interim charter was implemented.
It did not forget to include a crucial condition in its own version that let CNS chief Sonthi sack the prime minister if he stopped acting as a "yes" man or started rebelling against the coup leaders. In this context, the junta has been pulling all the strings. Sonthi has ultimate authority to control Surayud.
Sonthi also controls military power on the ground, where he can exercise it through other security agencies, including the Army and the Internal Security Operations Command. He has full authority to command their personnel.
The Army reshuffle in March affirmed that Sonthi was looking to the future after he retires in September. He put his trusted aides in key places to ensure he would not be revenged, no matter if he permanently retires or clings to power by postponing the general election or assuming the prime ministership.
The new line-up of 456 officers showed the rise of Sonthi's ally, the Pre-Cadet Class 9 clique, as the dominating force in the Army, and Sonthi's rearguard tactic to leave his men as the vanguard for the future.
As far as the junta is concerned, its business is not only about power but "rewards" too, for their dedication and risk of life in overthrowing Thaksin.
A number of CNS members and generals close to the junta were appointed on various boards of state enterprises and semi-government corporations shortly after the coup. They include Thai Airways International, Airports of Thailand (AOT), TOT and CAT Telecom. Executives close to the deposed Thaksin government were sacked or replaced.
A few days before the whole country celebrated the 2007 New Year, the Surayud Cabinet approved a Bt555-million fund, which the CNS demanded for supporting a special operational force to quell possible unrest. Surayud believed the amount of funds to maintain the 13,625-strong force through the whole year was not expensive.
On the same day (December 27, 2006), the military-installed National Legislative Assembly (NLA) passed the Bt1.566-trillion Budget Bill for 2007. The defence budget was the centre of attention because it was increased from the previous year by 35 per cent or Bt20 billion to Bt115 billion.
The issue was not debated by CNS-sponsored NLA members as they agreed that the military deserved it. The new defence budget would fill the military coffers, which, the CNS admitted, provided some Bt1.2 billion on planning and executing the coup.
The bright future of the military was recently guaranteed by a charter drafting panel, led by allegedly CNS-sponsored Prasong Soonsiri. Its 35 members agreed that future governments would be duty-bound not only to provide adequate arms and military equipment to the armed forces, but also to be modern and up-to-date in terms of technology.
The season of self-rewards has continued.
On April 3, the Cabinet approved a pay rise for 120 officers working for the CNS. They received a 15-per-cent increase, added to the 15 per cent granted earlier. The junta believed those officers should get a special reward for their dedication and service to the nation. No CNS members, however, told the public if the pay hike included their names in the line-up.
As the cash gushed down from the top, a cousin of key CNS member General Saprang Kalayanamitr was chosen to head a Bt12-million government public relations campaign. When the documents on the deal were leaked to the press, the military attempted to find the person who leaked the information. They claimed the leak was a violation of the law, as the document was highly confidential. Amid mounting criticism over nepotism, the junta insisted that Saprang's cousin "is a professional and experienced at PR."
Saprang himself had earlier failed to clarify an allegation that involved him and some other AOT board members. He, as AOT chairman, refused to comment on a lavish and controversial Bt7-million trip to Europe at AOT expense. Instead, he praised himself as a "hero" who had ousted Thaksin and made the country a better place. Thus, the "hero" had no need to explain, he said.
Saprang's tough stand can be understood because, under military rule, a check- and-balance system does not exist. All watchdog agencies are not supposed to cross the line as their bosses have installed them only to execute their enemies.
While society is still divided into two camps [pro- and anti-Thaksin supporters], the one-sided investigation has proved that junta's actions will not lead to national reconciliation. The junta did not set up an independent panel of "neutral" members to prove the charges cited to topple Thaksin. Instead, some of Thaksin's enemies appeared in the line-up of new graft busters.
Nam Yimyaem, former chair of an ad-hoc panel that ruled TRT should be dissolved for being involved in election fraud, has become the AEC chairman. Auditor General Jaruvan Maintaka, whom the junta kept in position while dismissing her rivals, the Board of Audit Commission's members, and Klanarong Chantik - former NCCC secretary-general who asked the Constitutional Court to rule that Thaksin was guilty in the asset-concealment case - were "invited" to sit on the AEC.
Former senators Kaewsan Atibodhi and Sak Korsaengruang and law expert Banjerd Singkaneti are three other AEC members who have been critical of the Thaksin government for years.
Concerning the AEC line-up, critics warn that peace will not return because many Thaksin supporters would never accept the "justice" the military-backed government was supposed to give to the former prime minister.
While peace has not been given a chance as the junta has promised, some military leaders are reported to be preparing for a "safe landing."
Main attention centres on the new Matchima political group, the old Wang Nam Yom faction of TRT, led by influential Somsak Thepsuthin, a former minister in the Thaksin Cabinet. Somsak was reported to have met with CNS secretary-general General Winai Phattiyakul to discuss how they would form a new political party.
The party would reportedly give coup leaders a mainstream avenue for political involvement when the CNS and the Surayud government are defunct following the formation of a new elected government.
The move raises doubts among Thaksin's opponents if the junta's leaders are willing to "clean up" the corrupt politicians, as one of the four claims for staging the coup, or have they only come to regain their clout lost during the Thaksin reign.
Another "don't" that the junta has already committed is that its charter-drafting panel led by veteran Prasong has ensured that the junta is given amnesty from prosecution for toppling the elected Thaksin government. Although the drafters denied that no word such as "amnesty" would appear in the charter, its meaning relies on Article 299 of the Prasong panel's final draft.
It reads, "Whatever has been recognised under the Thai (interim) constitution of 2006 to be legal and constitutional, including all actions related to the incident be it before or after the promulgation of this constitution, will be legal under this charter."
What about any rules that will rein in the generals, who now hold absolute ruling power? An answer might be found in Prasong's arguments.
"I do not think the military will interfere with politics in the future. If those in politics didn't interfere with the military, these public servants would correctly and justly carry out their work ... those on the political side shouldn't mess with them."
Furthermore, the junta leaders broke the important "Don't behave like Thaksin" rule that brought Thaksin to his downfall.
Amid concerns the coup leaders would become just another group of typical dictators who stole Thailand's democracy - and set to impose absolute control on the media - General Sonthi guaranteed, shortly after the coup, the media would be granted freedom of speech, which the people had rarely enjoyed during the Thaksin reign. Although the junta had placed their soldiers at every broadcast media station for months, editors regarded it as "protection" rather than intimidation.
Three months later, it's a different story, however. Shortly after the New Year, the junta ordered the broadcast media to cease airing views defending former prime minister Thaksin and the Thai Rak Thai Party.
"You guys should know that if we allow representatives of the former premier to make statements every day, the public will be confused. Executives of state- owned media should withdraw the programmes [that violate the order]. Why continue to defend people who damaged the country?" said CNS secretary-general General Winai, who summoned about 50 editors and media executives.
The "intimidating" message inevitably leads to a "climate of fear" as a number of people believe that the junta leaders only intend to cling to power by manipulating the Thaksin issue to tighten their grip on the media.
Thaksin has only attempted to sway the direction of news reports through his political clout, but the junta has sent its ultimatum to media with officers holding guns in the background. Hence, it is not surprising to know the media these days has put self-censorship as its top priority.
Almost two years after anti-Thaksin movements gained momentum, democracy in Thailand is still clouded with uncertainty and political crisis. For more than half a year since the September 19 coup, the facts begin to speak for themselves.
Thaksin's supporters would not bow to the "justice" that the junta gives to "their prime minister". After hailing the generals as national heroes on the night of September 19, academics, activists and the junta's allies have become suspicious as to whether they have backed the right side.
Society is still divided into pro- and anti-Thaksin camps. Casualties of ongoing turbulence in southernmost provinces have risen sharply, compared to the Thaksin years. The economy is still plunging, and experts are concerned that ghosts of the 1997 economic crisis will return to haunt the whole nation.
People in the streets are still scared of a possible new round of bombings following the attacks in the New Year. Rumours of a new coup to topple the Sonthi junta occasionally rise from military camps. Thaksin's opponents keep calling on Surayud to quit as he allegedly attempts to compromise with his predecessor in a secret deal. The public have become suspicious of a possible conspiracy to extend the military rule.
The bright future that the junta promised when it ousted Thaksin is not about to come. Will it ever come, though? The Thaksin entry in 2001 revived hope that Thailand would avoid the vicious cycle and the people could truly establish power. But he blew it.
Although the Thaksin departure gives some people hope that "real democracy" still has a chance in this country, the road ahead to a post-military era could be hard for democracy supporters to accept.
Some corrupt politicians are now on their campaigns for the forthcoming national poll while the coup leaders are on their way for a "safe landing". History proves that they will find a winning combination in the end.
The continuing political crisis is a tough lesson, if the Thais can cope with one trouble by not making another one. Tanks and guns will never build a road to democracy.
Thailand has fought a long path of 75 years, sacrificing tears and blood to secure the people's power. If there is still hope, the road ahead will need patience and conscience to shape a "permanent democracy", without corrupt politicians or military juntas.
Otherwise, the long journey will be only a "curse" the Kingdom has to live with.