Can the Army really play the role of peacemaker?

Samak said the then government of Chuan Leekpai had to resort to bloodshed to quell the hostage crisis while, on the other hand, his administration should be given credit for not using force to bring down the anti-government PAD.

While these two incidents are totally unrelated, Samak's attempt to compare the Ratchaburi hostage incident with the current crisis reflects the shrewd tactics of this political old-timer.

Samak knew that mentioning the handling of the Ratchaburi hostage crisis would make a number of people uncomfortable because of the extrajudicial killing of the nine hostage-takers.

At the time of the Ratchaburi stand-off, former premier Surayud Chulanont was the then Army chief and Lt-General Aswin Kwanmuang led a group of commandos that stormed the hospital. This past weekend, Aswin was abruptly removed from his post as commander of the Bangkok Metropolitan Police to an inactive desk job. Samak was reportedly not pleased with him because of his lenient attitude towards the PAD protesters.

The Ratchaburi Hospital siege did not come out of the blue. Days before the incident, the then First Army area commander, Lt-General Thaweep Suwanasingha, gave his men the green light to shell "God's Army" positions inside Burma's Karen State. God's Army was a ragtag rebel army under the leadership of 10-year-old twins believed to have supernatural powers when going into battle.

Thaweep wanted to force the God's Army to turn over a group of Burmese rebels who called themselves the "Vigorous Burmese Student Warriors". He was offended when the VBSW, in October 1999, had gone through his area to get to the Burmese Embassy in Bangkok, where they held scores of people hostage, including Burmese diplomats and their families, demanding that the Rangoon junta release all political prisoners.

After three days of shelling and countless injuries, the VBSW decided to cross over into Thai territory and take over the Ratchaburi Hospital, holding more than 100 patients and staff as hostages. They demanded that the Thai troops stop shelling and that medical assistance be given to the injured in the God's Army camps.

Twenty-five hours later, at the crack of dawn the following morning, 200 black-clad police commandos stormed the hospital. The sound of automatic gunfire was heard for about half an hour. After a long while, there was a series of single shots. Finally silence.

The next day a leading Thai daily ran pictures of the nine young Burmese, all with gunshot wounds to their heads and their hands tied behind their backs. Nobody wanted to ask the ugly question. As far as most people were concerned, justice had been served.

It's hard to believe that moral injunction was the reason behind Samak's decision to bring up this incident at the joint parliamentary session over the weekend, knowing full well that the ugly questions had gone unanswered. If Samak was indeed doing the right thing, it was likely that he was doing it for all the wrong reasons.

The tendency to use violence to settle matters has long been a trait of the Thai police and military personnel. The stand-off at the historic Krue Se Mosque in April 2004 and the massacre at Tak Bai in October of the same year are some of the recent examples of the long-standing culture of impunity among the Thai security forces.

But one reason the security community gets away with questionable tactics is largely because the Thai public doesn't like to ask ugly questions.

In the case of Krue Se and Tak Bai, the public's attitude was that members of ethnic minorities had misbehaved and therefore got what was coming to them.

The killings of Black May in 1992, and those in October 1976, are testimony to the fact that Thai security forces have no qualms about using force, and so perhaps the Malays shouldn't take it so personally.

For many people, the presence of the Army's anti-riot units joining with police who were sandwiched between PAD protesters and the pro-government Democratic Alliance Against Dictatorship was a breath of fresh air.

Just like that the Army became the saviour of the nation, the peacemaker in time of trouble. Strange how easy people forget the bloody past. The fact that soldiers don't use their weapons doesn't necessarily mean they are men of peace.

But while the situation may be in the military's favour for the time being, the moment of truth will eventually hit Army chief General Anupong Paochinda.

For the time being, Anupong is leaving the ball in Samak's court. By restraining his men and arming them with little more than shoulder pads, Anupong is letting the embattled premier know that he will have to live with the consequences of whatever decision he makes.

Should we believe the Army has the kind of moral authority to be the peacemaker, given its chequered past? Or is it just simply trying to reinvent itself?