Grassroots movements succeed without politicisation

Vanida was an idealist, vocal about rejecting her comrades' advice to tap the grassroots' power by turning it into a broad-based political party of the poor. Many of her leftist comrades were inspired by "green" parties in Europe and communist parties with a proletariat base. But hers was a popular resistance in a pure, ideal sense, without the panaceas of revolution or electoral politics - which are a springboard for politicians' gain.

The red-shirt uproar in Bangkok - which ended in tragedy for all Thais, no matter which side of the spectrum they belong to - has certainly given political visibility to the poor. Irrespective of the armed element that tarnished its legitimacy, the movement has taken the opposite path from the idealistic approach to empowerment that Vanida advocated and inspired many grassroots communities to follow over the past two decades.

Despite the obvious political puppeteering, aggressive leadership and armed violence, the red shirts won support from pro-poor academics, peace and human rights activists. It is undeniable that academics - presumably honest and authentic - and the movement's effective PR campaign have played a significant role in shaping the direction of media coverage. The BBC and CNN have been active in portraying the phenomenon as the oppressed poor's revolt against an evil dictator, Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva. In their coverage, Abhisit is depicted as a tyrant who commanded a Tian'anmen Square-like massacre of protesters, leading to the red shirts' spontaneous reaction in burning Bangkok.

The unrest, the worst ever in Thailand's political history, left 88 dead, 1,900 injured, and over 30 buildings destroyed in Bangkok. It left deep wounds for both reds and anti-reds. It casts doubt on what constitutes a peaceful protest. How has the practice of non-violent protest, as proclaimed by the red-shirt movement, deviated from the original idea? Is non-violence a concept that evolves with time and transforms in a changing political arena? These questions bring us back to Vanida's vision.

Vanida, an inspirational mobiliser who died from cancer two years ago, led the anti-Pak Moon Dam movement in Ubon Ratchathani province. The Moon River fishermen's movement has become a legend of non-violent, grassroots protest. Their struggle inspired other groups in the early 1990s and was instrumental in the formation of the "assembly of the poor".

A product of the October 6, 1976 student uprising - during which she fled to the jungle in southern Thailand - Vanida was a believer in non-violent protest and a critic of injustice caused by development and social inequality. For her, empowering the marginalised required an approach outside the mainstream political bodies and the bureaucracy. Her intent was not to create a fast track to achieve a short-lived utopia, but a political process that involves struggle, self-understanding and learning, so that individual members can build a solid social movement.

The starting point in such a struggle is always a concrete problem, never abstract ideals. The demand for the return of the Moon River, a local fishery-based livelihood, farmland, and fair compensation to cover the cost of rehabilitation and damage caused by the dam have been top of the movement's agenda. For these fishing communities, democracy as an abstract concept was never something they craved. Rather, it was recognised as a practical framework within which they could exercise their rights to pursue their livelihoods.

Throughout the Pak Moon struggle, almost two decades long, ethnic prejudice against the protesters was prevalent. Often, their Isaan dialect and unsophisticated manner was met with silence and contempt from privileged officials and Bangkok Thais. Their knowledge of the Moon's ecosystem and biology was ridiculed by bureaucrats from the Electricity Generating Authority of Thailand (Egat). Their persistent protests at Government House angered motorists as the rallies forced traffic to a standstill. Worst of all, some ignorant Bangkokians branded them as greedy folk who endlessly pushed for more compensation and made new demands.

In the face of tension and despair, Vanida refrained from fanning the ethnic prejudice and a cultural collision between the Isaan underclass and Bangkok elites. Neither did she salt the wounds of social inequality or turn it into a class war to tap the raw angst and frustration amongst the protesters. On the contrary, the middle class's arrogance and contempt was acknowledged, endured and rejected. It was never sensationalised nor taken as grounds for revenge.

For Vanida, violence bred more violence, hatred fuelled fiercer hatred. She saw the danger of the narrowly focused politics of ethnicity and class. Leading the Moon fisherfolk, Vanida consciously sought to turn their Isaan roots into positive ethnic pride, asserting and demanding respect and space for their views. Her task was to remove, not fuel, the underclass stigma. The messages were clear: Local knowledge has to function alongside expert knowledge; villagers are entitled to live alongside dominant central Thais in a more inclusive society.

Thailand's progress over the past five decades has been built on the backs of the urban and rural poor, whose productivity has been tapped to fuel the engine of growth. To counter this capitalistic trend, Vanida's view was to develop a bottom-up plan to protect remaining resources and to be less dependent on capital. Free from oppositional politics, Vanida mentored the movement's members about the importance of representative democracy. She warned villagers not to give in to bribes for their votes, teaching that voters are the masters whom elected politicians must serve, not vice versa.

In short, Vanida's vision was a radical one - a dream for the poor to realise individual and collective empowerment in a quest for an equitable and just society. For this dream to come true, the means were as important as the end, as bad means could not justify a glorious goal.

Clearly, the issue of class and ethnic differences needs to be handled with care. The danger of class politics and politicians' manipulation of the poor was something Vanida foresaw. Thus, a purely autonomous popular movement is the answer to fighting the multiple axes of oppression. Was Vanida a day-dreamer? No. She was an idealist and a dedicated doer.

Part 1 of a two-part series.

The author is a former environmental journalist with The Nation, now living in Denmark.