How to defeat anti-government movements: mastering the art of possibility

We have been persuaded that freedom of expression - and, by extension, political demonstration - is a necessary condition for democracy, and as such we must learn to take it in stride. But more of it is not necessarily merrier, especially when it is used to propagate an individualistic political agenda that has nothing to do with the greater good of the public and the country.

In Thailand these days political demonstrations are the norm rather than the exception. "Mobs" - as these demonstrators are generally called here - is an English term that has made its way into popular Thai vocabulary. In addition to the more visible and vocal red-shirt "mobs", we also have the "poor-man mobs", "default debtor mobs", "corn-grower mobs", "farmer mobs", and many special-interest as well as unidentifiable "mobs" that gather almost on a daily basis somewhere. If freedom of expression proves democracy, our "mobs" prove that Thailand is one of the freest and most democratic countries in the world, so much to our own detriment.

I was stewing in my own distress on Tuesday over the red-shirt march towards Government House when these words were spoken to me while we were sitting in the heavier than usual traffic. The words came from the former Thai ambassador to Washington whom I served for four years there in the 1980s and whose exceptional wisdom and insight never ceases to amaze me, over two decades hence:

"The art of possibility is the counter-measure to public discontent," he said. "In order to restore internal peace, Prime Minister Abhisit must be able to persuasively convey to, and convince, the people that better days are ahead, and how it is possible that these better days can be had by all."

Once again, I was reminded why I am in possession of many of the "Dummies" books.

"Hope always gives people a new lease of life," he continued. "People must believe that there is a chance they can lift themselves from the world of struggle and sail out into the universe of possibility." And that summed it up as tidily as it started.

And that's exactly what President Barack Obama communicated convincingly during his first State of the Union address on Tuesday (Wednesday morning in Thailand). He urged Americans to look beyond the dire struggle of today, take a long view, and place hope and confidence in the future along the lines carved out in the American psyche - that everything is possible if Americans put their mind to it.

"We will rebuild, we will recover and we will emerge stronger than before," he declared, "and this crisis will not determine the fate of this country."

The confidence he exuded made these lofty words believable, and for a moment the glimmer of hope shone on his people. There will be days when the American public will look back and think such talk is rubbish, but their president will surely be repeating the same message time and again. He will try to make positive thinking contagious. He will attempt to make the public see the ambit of possibility, not the impossibility. Time will tell if he will succeed. But whatever the outcome, it will not be for a lack of trying on the part of the Obama administration.

At home, the red shirt movement cannot be dismissed as a mere bunch of mercenaries. There are participants who are genuine believers. And we all know, the next three months are crucial to the comeback chances of the former prime minister, who now lives in exile. The battle will be fierce, but the best way to appease those believers and neutralise these anti-government, anti-institution sentiments is NOT to try to prove them wrong, but to demonstrate to them that there is a different road to consider, that there ARE other options and they are better options.

Reality and perception of that reality are two sides of the same coin and the line between them is rail thin. Our frame of mind creates, defines and confines what we perceive to be the reality and what is possible. Changing people's frames of mind on the left side of the equation can alter that on the right side. The art of possibility can win a battle without a single bullet. And it applies not only to marchers, political activists or hired guns, but also to the man, or men, behind many of these marches, whose current agenda and interests are perhaps not the same as those of the country.

There is a classic example used in many business school classrooms:

A shoe factory sends two marketing researchers to a region in Africa to find out about the prospects of expanding its business there. One researcher sends back a cable that reads, "Situation hopeless. No one wears shoes." The other writes to his headquarters: "Exceptional opportunity. They have no shoes."

Circumstances can make a hero or a villain. Prime Minister Abhisit has been hard at work and the toll on him is physically visible. He has a unique chance to make history, to make a champion out of himself and a winner out of our nation. Or he may prove to be a lesson in mediocrity by allowing himself to become bogged down in the political traps set up for him to fall into, and in the troubled economic maze out of which he has to lead the country. It will depend on his ability to convince not only the ordinary people, but his adversaries alike, that when it comes to the love of the country we can, and should, take a higher plane, and that no one has to be a complete loser or an absolute winner.

That only happens when the country as a whole loses. The way to counter the political disgruntlement, real or manufactured, lies in the ability of our leadership to master the art of possibility as a way out of the mess we are in, and make people believe in it. But as with happiness, there is no short cut to success. But vision is definitely required.