In a normal political environment, government leaders’ cars entering and leaving Thaksin Shinawatra’s residence would trigger an opposition uproar. Press conferences would be called to say how absurd and unconstitutional that looked.
But the “Orange” camp is always trapped between a rock and a hard place when it comes to Thaksin. It does not know what to say to be exact.
That the shocking Srettha episode has managed to end quickly owed a lot to reactive brilliance which made full use of the ideological polarisation.
Paetongtarn Shinawatra would not have been Thailand’s latest prime minister with support from the people who used to be the Pheu Thai Party’s sworn enemies had the political atmosphere been straightforward.
The black-and-white showdown stopped being simple when the Srettha government was formed. Paetongtarn’s appointment was just an extension of the unravelling absurdity which is apparently benefiting Pheu Thai despite its election setback last year.
Talking about political ridiculousness, the peak was when the prime minister shared a VIP meal with Thaksin in Chiang Mai, not when MPs of conservative parties voted to accept the convict’s daughter as prime minister.
Like him or loathe him, people have to hand it to Thaksin for using the ideological divide to his advantage beautifully, at least for now.
The argument “against” Thaksin “the criminal” is this: “How can someone convicted of a crime manage to assert control over Thai politics in defiance of laws and the Constitution? How can that someone host a political summit to determine how the next government should be formed?
Here’s an argument “for” Thaksin, the “champion of democracy”: He used to be a political prisoner and he is now just doing what “liberals” everywhere have always wanted him to do _ take charge of the directions of the country come what may.
Thailand’s “liberals” have wanted the same thing. (Or some may say they want to be perceived as wanting it because there are vested interests to suppress.) Whether they are sincere or have ulterior motives, saying Thaksin is improperly pulling the administrative strings is not an option.
Make no mistake, the conservatives are hypocritical, too. They are the ones who accused Thaksin of being badly corrupt, drunk with power and actually showing contempt for human rights.
But they are not the ones who have to make a statement here. Over the past year, they have shared administrative power with Pheu Thai, so their political job is to answer criticism, not ask questions.
The burden of asking questions, therefore, falls upon the “liberals”. It’s a tough task, because there are only two Thaksins _ the justifiably-convicted criminal and the persecuted champion of democracy. There is nothing in between.
While there is no loophole for the “liberals” to exploit, there is one for Thaksin. He sensed the small window of opportunity and swiftly took advantage. What happened after Srettha’s removal by the Constitutional Court was a brilliant move that caught both reluctant allies and new enemies off guard.
The former had no time to conjure up competing government-forming formulas. The latter, mostly those in the newly-dissolved Move Forward Party and their followers, could not criticise Thaksin for wrongfully asserting his powers, because such criticism would badly clash with what they proclaim they are fighting for.
One possible narrative for the “liberals” is that Pheu Thai, by agreeing to play the conservatives’ rules, must accept all the rules and failure to do so is a bad double standard.
This, however, still implies that Thaksin was innocent “before” and he was “persecuted” to deny his rights to lead the nation.
Whatever the liberals try to say will lead to a paradox. Thaksin can always say that as a “persecuted” politician, he is entitled to doing whatever necessary in order to be in charge. Critics basing argument on the “liberal” ideology will always come to a dead end.
Thaksin’s conviction was either right or wrong. Either he was judged based on undeniable evidence or there was a political conspiracy. If he had been persecuted, liberal logic dictates that he must be able to call Wednesday’s summit and stamp Pheu Thai’s authority.
In a way, it’s better for every “liberal” to see another Pheu Thai prime minister than, say, the return of Prayut Chan-o-cha or the rise of Prawit Wongsuwan. Extremists are also afraid that if they stir up big turmoil, another period of political turbulence could lead to something worse.
A sensible option for the “liberals” is to stay patient and wait for the next election. That, however, can play into Pheu Thai’s hands nicely because three more years are an ample opportunity to catch up with structurally-weakened opponents.
Many people will argue that what befell Move Forward last week only means a greater electoral victory for its reincarnation, the People Party. Others suspect that with the camp’s leaders getting younger and younger, the momentum may not be as strong after three years.
A lot of unpredictability will still transpire. As of now, however, a Thai cautionary tale featuring three “uncles” may come in handy. (It’s not the “three-P” uncles, mind you.)
The tale has two uncles, Ta In and Ta Na, fight over who should get the best part of a fish. They ask the third uncle, Ta Yoo, to arbitrate, in effect deciding who gets what. Uncle Yoo gives the head to one and the tail to the other.
As for the middle, the meatiest part of the fish, Uncle Yoo keeps for himself as the mediation fee.
