The cause may be diversified now, but are lack of clear goals and agendas good for red protesters?
If you think being a red-shirt leader is tough, imagine having to listen to them speak, day in and day out, for almost two weeks now and counting.
First you have fugitive ex-PM Thaksin Shinawatra, who spends most of his phone-in time bemoaning his plight before concluding: "This is not at all about me."
Then you have some speakers insist that dissolving the House is the only way to go, and then yet other speakers who tell you the whole political system is obsolete and rotten. And that's only on normal days, which seem to be getting rarer and rarer.
On Wednesday, for example, protesters at the Phan Fa Bridge were asked to perform a brief candlelight ceremony to honour the monarchy. On the previous evening, they heard one speaker proclaim: "Long Live Your Majesty." Both of these occasions followed the usual bombardment against ammart (royal advisers) by those up on the stage.
No matter how much each protester had been politically prepared before coming to Bangkok, there is no way they can miss what is "wrong" about Thailand. Nearly two weeks on, Rajdamnoen is more than enough to educate even the most ignorant about "double standards", "opportunistic" military, meddlesome ammart, obscene gaps in income and political mandates.
But when it comes to what is "right" for Thailand, that's another matter. Each speaker has his or her own blurry version of what should happen after Parliament is dissolved or what should really be done if Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva refuses to dissolve it. And this is further complicated by the sometimes-clashing agendas of those taking turns at the microphone.
Thaksin is only one of many speakers, a protest leader said yesterday.
"Is that right, brothers and sisters?" boomed Natthawut Saikua.
That could have simply been meant to foster an air of camaraderie and endorse claims that the fight has a greater, nobler goal than Thaksin's confiscated wealth, but fresh seeds of doubt have been sown at Phan Fa.
There have been murmurs about removing Thaksin's shadow that hangs over the rally, so that those who came with "pure hearts" and craved real reform can receive the credit they deserve. But Thaksin has already declared himself a symbol of "maimed democracy", and judging from the responsive roar of the clappers, most if not all protesters believe that.
But is he one of them? Is he a phrai, as he proudly proclaims himself to be? What is a phrai anyway, since every single high-profile - and reasonably rich - speaker on the stage seems to describe him/herself to be one? Is this a "class war", and if so why is money flowing in all directions, and why are protest leaders claiming support from all walks of life? Why attack ammart while saying "Love Live Your Majesty"? As for the income gap, what about the story of a persecuted phrai buying a hotel in Montenegro?
To red sympathisers, the answers may lie in what one male protester told The Nation: "I don't care much about Thaksin. All I care about is the double standard must go, so there can be real justice in this country."
That other protesters may not think the same is all right, say defenders of the perceived melting pot at Phan Fa.
"The death of the old system requires no clear vision, no unanimity of motive, no strategic acumen and no enlightened leader; indeed, it does not even require the physical removal of the present puppet regime," wrote Thai political watcher Khikwai in his blog.
"The red shirts may well be confused about what they want to build, but they now have a good idea of what they are against."
Confused they surely must be. After all, the unifying force of the rally enriched himself enormously under the old system of meddlesome, perhaps bribe-taking ammart, injustice and discrimination. Shin Corp could not have thrived under a dictatorship, and only after Thaksin decided to don the ammart hat did the company suffer his version of a travesty of justice.
The red shirts must have seen past all of that, as confirmed by their mere presence at the Phan Fa Bridge.
But that they remain unsure about what should come next may not be an encouraging sign. A fight with a fuzzy goal is like moving around blindfolded, and no matter how many people are near, it can feel quite lonely.
