
Some years ago, not long after his retirement, former Malaysian prime minister Dr Mahathir Mohammed also made a similar suggestion. He went as far as to compare the plight of the Patani Malays to that of the Palestinians - a statement that jolted the government in Bangkok but was largely welcomed by the Malay Muslims in the deep South.
Malaysian opposition leaders such as Anwar Ibrahim and Nik Aziz Nik Mat, the spiritual leader of Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (Pas) have also urged the Thai state and the Malays in Patani to reconcile their differences and look for ways to coexist peacefully.
None, of course, have come up with any particular blueprint. But it is well understood that concessions will have to be made on both sides if peace is to prevail in Thailand's southernmost provinces, the historical homeland of the Patani Malays, who came under Bangkok's direct rule after the turn of the 19th century.
Najib's upcoming visit to Thailand's Malay-speaking South is significant indeed. In so many words, Najib is telling the Patani Malays that they have to come to terms with their Thai citizenship. Ideally, Thai Prime Minister Abhisit, who will accompany Najib to the region, should tell the Patani Malays there that their Thai citizenship shouldn't have to come at the expense of their identity or their membership of the Malay civilisation that stretches from southern Thailand to the southern Philippines.
But finding middle ground for the Thai state and the Patani Malays is no easy task, especially when it requires the state to rethink its entire notion of nation-state building.
As difficult as it may be for Thai nationalists to believe, giving the Patani Malays some sort of autonomy amounts to acknowledging that the Muslims in the southernmost provinces embrace an entirely different history and culture. And in this historical and political consciousness, the Thais are seen as foreign occupiers and the local Malays are colonial subjects. In other words, the legitimacy of the Thai state in the region is at the crux of the question.
The ongoing insurgency aside, relations between the community and the Thai state suggest that the Patani Malays are willing to be part of the Thai State but on their own terms.
But the level of honesty and frankness needed for this kind of debate is nowhere to be found, as the two sides appear to be bogged down by the alleged atrocities committed by both the insurgents and the government security forces. No one has time to think about long-term relations. And the task at hand is being tackled in bits and pieces. Nothing comprehensive enough is being done to give the debate a new paradigm.
The Abhisit Administration, for example, is weighed down with problems on the ground, as well as in trying to bring back civilian supremacy in the region after nearly six years of military leadership that has failed to win any hearts or minds.
Local residents, on the other hand, are either demanding justice and, or, compensation for relatives killed by either the insurgents or the government security forces.
Nevertheless, Abhisit is slowly pushing ahead with ongoing secret talks with members of the long-standing separatist movements living in exile. From the official point of view, it is hoped that the old guard can talk sense into the new generation of more violent militants on the ground.
During the Surayud Chulanond administration, Thailand sought Malaysia's help in facilitating some of these discussions with the old guard, mainly with members of the Patani United Liberation Organisation and former members of the now defunct Bersatu.
This time around, there are indications that some of the hardliners in the Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C) are planning to come on board of this peace process. It hasn't been smooth sailing, however, as some security top brass with inflated egos think that talking to the old guard is a waste of time. They say that the old guard naively believes that the insurgents on the ground will surface and talk to them.
And then came the Ai Bayae massacre on June 8, when about six heavily armed men - reportedly members of a Thai militia - fired into a mosque full of Muslims conducting evening prayers. The attack resulted in the deaths of 11 Muslims, with 12 people injured.
Police have named one suspect, Suthirak Khongsuwan, a former ranger turned village militia man under a government-sponsored scheme to outsource security duty to local residents. The massacre caused the old guard to balk, while the militants have demanded that the authorities get to the bottom of incident in order to prove that the Thais are committed to peace.
According to sources in exile, the active militants, often referred to as juwae, or "fighters" in the local Malay dialect, are not in a hurry to talk to anybody.
"The way they see it, they are winning," said one member of the old guard, who spoke on condition of anonymity.
No one knows what Abhisit's approach to Malaysia will be. Surayud sought Kuala Lumpur's help in facilitating some of the meetings his people had with the old guard, and Abhisit will probably do the same. But because Malaysia is a stakeholder in this conflict, neither Thailand nor the separatists view it as an honest broker. Moreover, the exiled separatist community has never forgiven Kuala Lumpur for handing over in 1998 some of the senior Pulo leaders - Abdul Rahman Bazo and two brothers, Ismail and Da-oh Thanam - to the Thai authorities.
That episode was a Thai way of testing Malaysia's friendship, said one Thai official. While that may be the case, it drove a still permanent wedge between the Patani Malays and the Kuala Lumpur government.