Understanding Lese Majeste in Thailand - intent and crime
One of the most outstanding features of the masterful Truth on Trial in Thailand: Defamation, Treason and Lèse-majesté (London: Routledge, 2011) by David Streckfuss is its unprecedented attempt to lay bare the logic of thinking by those who protect Thainess through the monarchy (or the monarchy through Thainess). Streckfuss's idea of a "defamation regime" is not a casual shot at coining a nice easy term, but is a systematic rendering, informed by deep theory, of the logic of the Thai state.
I had the pleasure of interviewing David Steckfuss about his book and the edited transcript was published in Critical Asian Studies in 2011. As we ponder why people like labour and red-shirt activist Somyot Prueksakasemsuk and others are locked behind bars for what amount to thought and speaking crimes, the temptation is to blame the sheer callousness of the authorities. That doesn't add up. As commentator after commentator notes, the thoughtless and ruthless application of the lese-majeste law and the inhumane sentencing that occurs might sensibly be thought to diminish the position of the monarchy in Thailand - any cost/benefit analysis would suggest as much.
Something else is going on so that the lese majeste machine sentences and imprisons at will. And it has come recently in Somyot's case to more explicitly expand its rationale for imprisonment to the supposed "intention" of the accused. Sentencing doesn't go through a cost/benefit committee charged with protecting the image and reputation of the monarchy. There are other reasons behind what is happening other than sheer instrumental repression. Truth and Trial in Thailand is a conceptually rich that book gives us deep insights into this ghostly machine. Critical Asian Studies has made the full transcript and accompanying book review available here .
At a minimum government agencies such as Thailand's Office of the Attorney General, government and opposition spoke-persons and public intellectuals ought express a preference for bail, lighter sentencing and stricter thresholds for prosecution. The idea that the issue is too sensitive to address openly is a convenient infantilization of Thailand's public sphere and a misguided attempt to reconcile with something that isn't tangible.
Showing posts with label lese majeste. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lese majeste. Show all posts
March 4, 2013
June 22, 2012
Stirring the dust under the feet
Just before the Thai July 2011 General election I was asked by Bloomberg: “What are the prospects of a power-sharing arrangement between Thaksin and his opponents?” My response in part was:
“Apart from hardline elements who mistakenly view Thaksin as the nadir of monarchist Thailand, my guess is the economic and political costs of protracted conflict is now weighing heavily on some of the incumbents who still want to steer Thailand to a prosperous and modern future. There must be considerable distress felt in royalist circles at the anti-royalist feeling that is emerging among rank and file redshirts and frankly the only genuine way to stop this growing is by bringing Thaksin back into the fold. Thaksin has time and time again shown his willingness to abide by most public protocols in relation to the monarchy. The inane propaganda efforts of the various security agencies are a lesson in blowback and the stupidity of force feeding people with "correct ideas". The more men in khaki wax lyrical about the royal family the more their standing is diminished. Thaksin has always signalled his willingness to do a deal and moreover is happy to deploy royalist imagery. This is what he offers and no one else can play this card. This will be the basis of any power-sharing arrangement.
In some senses the stark choice facing the rival camps is continued conflict at the cost of mutual destruction and seeing Thailand meltdown, or some step back from this and working out a formula for power sharing or at the very least a situation in which a "loyal opposition" has a credible chance of electoral victory at the following election. And should something be "agreed" this raises another question, how would such a historic anti-climax be received among those mobilised yellow and red -shirted citizens. This takes us to the final of the many unknowns of the post election period: the potential of a rising democratic mass in the face of this intra-elite bargaining and game-playing. Of all the possible game changers, this seems the least unlikely on the balance of probabilities. I'd like to be proven wrong.”
More recently I’ve been asked about the lack of support for amending Article 112 that concerns lese majeste. My response was:
“There is actually broad but muted support among some sections of the elite to amend the law, liberal royalists have come out in favour of amendment and of course red-shirt elements are strongly in support. The proposed amendment in the “people’s bill” are smartly pitched and in a situation where public policy was rationally debated you’d have to say the bill would go some way to answering the needs of both sides of the political divide.
But rational public debate is playing second fiddle to various political imperatives. These include constantly changing attempt to appease hardline royalists and not provoke mobilisation. You can see in the mobilisation against the amnesty bills what is possible. You’d expect greater mobilization to oppose the Campaign 112 Bill, given the monarchy’s place in Thailand’s symbolic politics.
Pheu Thai forces made it very clear in the days after the July 2011 election that the monarchy was their most vulnerable point and they would need to move slowly. They’ve lived up to that expectation, with people still in prison, and Chalerm’s war room to monitor lese majeste. But the plea by government sympathisers to understand Pheu Thai’s constrained political environment can also be self-serving - it creates a space for Thaksin forces to use anti-monarchy sentiment among supporters as their strongest bargaining point with the establishment to try and forge a power-sharing arrangement. “Deal with us, and we can stop this” is the message. This attempt largely defines the last year of political bargaining.
It is evident that while party-connected red shirts and those surrounding Thaksin do not totally control the red-shirt movement, they are in a position to largely shut down anti-monarchy discourse or at least alienate it from the more cautious elements of the movement. This is what they offer at the bargaining table. In some senses, the future of the monarchy depends on what agreements can be made to share power.
A final point to make would be that the reluctance to amend reflects a national condition of impending crisis. There is respect on both sides of politics for the king. This is a cultural condition that does not necessarily reflect agreement on the monarchy or the lese majeste law , but a sentiment that says so late in the reign it would be disrespectful to make these moves. For those who feel the king’s presence as the father and soul of the nation – and these ideas are really felt – amendment that is politically motivated appears as ingratitude. For that reason, amendment will likely quickly follow the passing of King Bhumiphol.
Amendment is only likely to happen in this reign under two conditions. Either a signal comes from the palace, so that the amendment is seen as part of the narrative of a democratic kingship or controversial amendment, even abolition, occurs as part of an increasingly polarised struggle for total power. Amendment based on rational debate is a distant possibility.”
“Apart from hardline elements who mistakenly view Thaksin as the nadir of monarchist Thailand, my guess is the economic and political costs of protracted conflict is now weighing heavily on some of the incumbents who still want to steer Thailand to a prosperous and modern future. There must be considerable distress felt in royalist circles at the anti-royalist feeling that is emerging among rank and file redshirts and frankly the only genuine way to stop this growing is by bringing Thaksin back into the fold. Thaksin has time and time again shown his willingness to abide by most public protocols in relation to the monarchy. The inane propaganda efforts of the various security agencies are a lesson in blowback and the stupidity of force feeding people with "correct ideas". The more men in khaki wax lyrical about the royal family the more their standing is diminished. Thaksin has always signalled his willingness to do a deal and moreover is happy to deploy royalist imagery. This is what he offers and no one else can play this card. This will be the basis of any power-sharing arrangement.
In some senses the stark choice facing the rival camps is continued conflict at the cost of mutual destruction and seeing Thailand meltdown, or some step back from this and working out a formula for power sharing or at the very least a situation in which a "loyal opposition" has a credible chance of electoral victory at the following election. And should something be "agreed" this raises another question, how would such a historic anti-climax be received among those mobilised yellow and red -shirted citizens. This takes us to the final of the many unknowns of the post election period: the potential of a rising democratic mass in the face of this intra-elite bargaining and game-playing. Of all the possible game changers, this seems the least unlikely on the balance of probabilities. I'd like to be proven wrong.”
More recently I’ve been asked about the lack of support for amending Article 112 that concerns lese majeste. My response was:
“There is actually broad but muted support among some sections of the elite to amend the law, liberal royalists have come out in favour of amendment and of course red-shirt elements are strongly in support. The proposed amendment in the “people’s bill” are smartly pitched and in a situation where public policy was rationally debated you’d have to say the bill would go some way to answering the needs of both sides of the political divide.
But rational public debate is playing second fiddle to various political imperatives. These include constantly changing attempt to appease hardline royalists and not provoke mobilisation. You can see in the mobilisation against the amnesty bills what is possible. You’d expect greater mobilization to oppose the Campaign 112 Bill, given the monarchy’s place in Thailand’s symbolic politics.
Pheu Thai forces made it very clear in the days after the July 2011 election that the monarchy was their most vulnerable point and they would need to move slowly. They’ve lived up to that expectation, with people still in prison, and Chalerm’s war room to monitor lese majeste. But the plea by government sympathisers to understand Pheu Thai’s constrained political environment can also be self-serving - it creates a space for Thaksin forces to use anti-monarchy sentiment among supporters as their strongest bargaining point with the establishment to try and forge a power-sharing arrangement. “Deal with us, and we can stop this” is the message. This attempt largely defines the last year of political bargaining.
It is evident that while party-connected red shirts and those surrounding Thaksin do not totally control the red-shirt movement, they are in a position to largely shut down anti-monarchy discourse or at least alienate it from the more cautious elements of the movement. This is what they offer at the bargaining table. In some senses, the future of the monarchy depends on what agreements can be made to share power.
A final point to make would be that the reluctance to amend reflects a national condition of impending crisis. There is respect on both sides of politics for the king. This is a cultural condition that does not necessarily reflect agreement on the monarchy or the lese majeste law , but a sentiment that says so late in the reign it would be disrespectful to make these moves. For those who feel the king’s presence as the father and soul of the nation – and these ideas are really felt – amendment that is politically motivated appears as ingratitude. For that reason, amendment will likely quickly follow the passing of King Bhumiphol.
Amendment is only likely to happen in this reign under two conditions. Either a signal comes from the palace, so that the amendment is seen as part of the narrative of a democratic kingship or controversial amendment, even abolition, occurs as part of an increasingly polarised struggle for total power. Amendment based on rational debate is a distant possibility.”
April 16, 2011
Truth on Trial in Thailand: Defamation, Treason and Lèse-majesté.
The following is a review of David Streckfuss' new book Truth on Trial in Thailand: Defamation, Treason and Lèse-majesté. London: Routledge, 2011.
Full Version Available at http://criticalasianstudies.org/issues/vol43/no1/truth-on-trial-in-thailand.html
David Streckfuss's Truth on Trial in Thailand: Defamation, Treason and Lese majeste builds on what was already an extraordinarily accomplished PhD dissertation taken at Wisconsin-Madison (1998) under the supervision of Alfred McCoy and Thongchai Winichakul. The original material has been revised and expanded in the context of Thailand's regime-shaking struggles since the 2006 coup d'etat that felled Thaksin Shinawatra and the accompanying excess of defamation and lse-majest claims. Truth in Thailand is also marked by the author's recent engagement with the theorists of the “state of exception,” Carl Schmitt and Giorgio Agamben.1
It is with Agamben and Schmitt that Streckfuss can claim that Thailand's legalization of “abnormal times” since the 1950s entails a permanent suspension of constitutional order—or a state of exception in which sovereign power defines the possible. The ghost of Foucault is also present, though more as a disposition than an explicitly referenced master. Introduced briefly on the matter of “regimes of truth” (43-47), Foucault then largely fades from view, but the idea of productive discourse shadows the entire book. How could it be otherwise when Streckfuss aims to make sense of the order of things—of Thai-ness, of monarchy, and of nation, and the power that works through them?
Streckfuss thinks through these matters with ruthless clarity. Under his scholarly scrutiny the way in which Thai law has regulated the “characterisation of things” across a dispiriting one hundred years is laid bare. Central to this project has been what Streckfuss calls the “defamation regime”: “a social and political formation that over time develops a kind of 'defamation thinking' and 'impulse' that focuses on the insult of the defamatory statement, often at the expense of the truth” (xv). His expert narrative shows how courts, inspired by wider state discourses, try to establish the intent of those who have allegedly defamed the nation, the monarchy, or Thai-ness—and in so doing make visible the logic of the regime's self-image. In shining a spotlight on these legal moments Streckfuss is illuminating the underlying collective logic by which power has been consolidated in Thailand.
The book's thirteen chapters are rich in detail and observation, and many Old Thai Hands will learn much from each of them. Thematically organized, the chapters offer an incomparable history of lse-majest, law and Thai-ness, public opinion, and the science of traitorology. Of especial relevance given the recent discussion of the judicialization of politics in Thailand is Streckfuss's remarkable account in chapter 5 of the institutionalization of the “state of exception” by Thai courts working in conjunction with the police and military. Tracing the use of “indistinct, legal concepts such as 'peace and order' or 'threat to national security'” (113) and working through court transcripts, Streckfuss shows the essential reasoning behind the constitutional standing of the hundreds of coup decrees that have the status of law. No one hoping to understand the hybrid nature of Thailand's authoritarian-liberal mix can ignore this chapter, even if some (including me) will take exception to his argument that the country has been in varying states of exception for decades. Even if technically correct in the sense that extra-constitutional acts found Thai political order and shadow it—and that such acts announce themselves with disturbing frequency—the idea of a permanent “state of exception” can lead to overgeneralization. It can gloss, for example, Thailand's shifting regime forms since the 1950s and the differential relationship each has to law.
Many readers will be intrigued by Streckfuss's attempt to explain with Buddhist logic the actions that precede and follow coups d'etat, more than ten of which Thailand has witnessed since 1932. He writes:
This pattern [of a coup d'etat and self-issued amnesty and constitution] seems inexplicable unless we look at the practise as ritual purification—a public act certified by Thai Theravada Buddhism that recognizes a sacrifice (staging a coup), acknowledges a necessary murder (the killing of a constitution), and rewards giving (a new constitution, a new political order). (122)
Some might read as overly culturalist this account of coups d'etat as purification rituals that establish the pure intent of their protagonists (following a Buddhist inclination to stress right intent). At the very least the argument is provocative and offers original insights that expand our ways of thinking through the cultural aspects of Thai politics. Indeed, those hoping to understand the thinking of the Thai establishment and its social intermediaries may well feel they can finally name what has been hitherto a vague sense of Thai elite mentality. Streckfuss's desire to understand, and his dedicated patience in doing so, allows him to render visible the authenticity of a conservative Thai worldview that is often forgotten or cynically understood as mere venal interest. In short, Streckfuss has captured, on a political rather than aesthetic register, what Raymond Williams calls a “structure of feeling” and its practical consciousness.2 This is what Streckfuss means when he speaks of a “defamation regime.”
It remains to be said that if a certain ironical grin accompanies Streckfuss's extensive and persuasive documentation of the defamation regime, present also is horror at the human cost that this regime extracts. Such sentiment hints at the deep humanism that drives his scholarship. No one can read the book's last page on the “Ghosts of Forgotten History,” reminiscent of Walter Benjamin's portrayal of the Angel of Progress, and not shudder at the thought of future Thai troubles on the way to democracy. When the “'Ghosts' of the Duson-nyor massacre, 6 October, Black May, and Tak Bai” (315) are finally granted an audience, Thailand will not be the same.
This monumental volume is destined to take a leading place in the field of critical studies of Asia.
The review appears in the: Connors MK and Streckfuss, D (2011) 'Michael K. Connors in conversation with David Streckfuss, author of Truth on Trial in Thailand', Critical Asian Studies, 43:1, 139 - 149
Full Version Available at http://criticalasianstudies.org/issues/vol43/no1/truth-on-trial-in-thailand.html
David Streckfuss's Truth on Trial in Thailand: Defamation, Treason and Lese majeste builds on what was already an extraordinarily accomplished PhD dissertation taken at Wisconsin-Madison (1998) under the supervision of Alfred McCoy and Thongchai Winichakul. The original material has been revised and expanded in the context of Thailand's regime-shaking struggles since the 2006 coup d'etat that felled Thaksin Shinawatra and the accompanying excess of defamation and lse-majest claims. Truth in Thailand is also marked by the author's recent engagement with the theorists of the “state of exception,” Carl Schmitt and Giorgio Agamben.1
It is with Agamben and Schmitt that Streckfuss can claim that Thailand's legalization of “abnormal times” since the 1950s entails a permanent suspension of constitutional order—or a state of exception in which sovereign power defines the possible. The ghost of Foucault is also present, though more as a disposition than an explicitly referenced master. Introduced briefly on the matter of “regimes of truth” (43-47), Foucault then largely fades from view, but the idea of productive discourse shadows the entire book. How could it be otherwise when Streckfuss aims to make sense of the order of things—of Thai-ness, of monarchy, and of nation, and the power that works through them?
Streckfuss thinks through these matters with ruthless clarity. Under his scholarly scrutiny the way in which Thai law has regulated the “characterisation of things” across a dispiriting one hundred years is laid bare. Central to this project has been what Streckfuss calls the “defamation regime”: “a social and political formation that over time develops a kind of 'defamation thinking' and 'impulse' that focuses on the insult of the defamatory statement, often at the expense of the truth” (xv). His expert narrative shows how courts, inspired by wider state discourses, try to establish the intent of those who have allegedly defamed the nation, the monarchy, or Thai-ness—and in so doing make visible the logic of the regime's self-image. In shining a spotlight on these legal moments Streckfuss is illuminating the underlying collective logic by which power has been consolidated in Thailand.
The book's thirteen chapters are rich in detail and observation, and many Old Thai Hands will learn much from each of them. Thematically organized, the chapters offer an incomparable history of lse-majest, law and Thai-ness, public opinion, and the science of traitorology. Of especial relevance given the recent discussion of the judicialization of politics in Thailand is Streckfuss's remarkable account in chapter 5 of the institutionalization of the “state of exception” by Thai courts working in conjunction with the police and military. Tracing the use of “indistinct, legal concepts such as 'peace and order' or 'threat to national security'” (113) and working through court transcripts, Streckfuss shows the essential reasoning behind the constitutional standing of the hundreds of coup decrees that have the status of law. No one hoping to understand the hybrid nature of Thailand's authoritarian-liberal mix can ignore this chapter, even if some (including me) will take exception to his argument that the country has been in varying states of exception for decades. Even if technically correct in the sense that extra-constitutional acts found Thai political order and shadow it—and that such acts announce themselves with disturbing frequency—the idea of a permanent “state of exception” can lead to overgeneralization. It can gloss, for example, Thailand's shifting regime forms since the 1950s and the differential relationship each has to law.
Many readers will be intrigued by Streckfuss's attempt to explain with Buddhist logic the actions that precede and follow coups d'etat, more than ten of which Thailand has witnessed since 1932. He writes:
This pattern [of a coup d'etat and self-issued amnesty and constitution] seems inexplicable unless we look at the practise as ritual purification—a public act certified by Thai Theravada Buddhism that recognizes a sacrifice (staging a coup), acknowledges a necessary murder (the killing of a constitution), and rewards giving (a new constitution, a new political order). (122)
Some might read as overly culturalist this account of coups d'etat as purification rituals that establish the pure intent of their protagonists (following a Buddhist inclination to stress right intent). At the very least the argument is provocative and offers original insights that expand our ways of thinking through the cultural aspects of Thai politics. Indeed, those hoping to understand the thinking of the Thai establishment and its social intermediaries may well feel they can finally name what has been hitherto a vague sense of Thai elite mentality. Streckfuss's desire to understand, and his dedicated patience in doing so, allows him to render visible the authenticity of a conservative Thai worldview that is often forgotten or cynically understood as mere venal interest. In short, Streckfuss has captured, on a political rather than aesthetic register, what Raymond Williams calls a “structure of feeling” and its practical consciousness.2 This is what Streckfuss means when he speaks of a “defamation regime.”
It remains to be said that if a certain ironical grin accompanies Streckfuss's extensive and persuasive documentation of the defamation regime, present also is horror at the human cost that this regime extracts. Such sentiment hints at the deep humanism that drives his scholarship. No one can read the book's last page on the “Ghosts of Forgotten History,” reminiscent of Walter Benjamin's portrayal of the Angel of Progress, and not shudder at the thought of future Thai troubles on the way to democracy. When the “'Ghosts' of the Duson-nyor massacre, 6 October, Black May, and Tak Bai” (315) are finally granted an audience, Thailand will not be the same.
This monumental volume is destined to take a leading place in the field of critical studies of Asia.
The review appears in the: Connors MK and Streckfuss, D (2011) 'Michael K. Connors in conversation with David Streckfuss, author of Truth on Trial in Thailand', Critical Asian Studies, 43:1, 139 - 149
January 21, 2009
Lèse majesté and Solidarity: the Case of Ji Giles Ungpakorn
On Freedom of Expression
Very few people are able or willing to fight lèse majesté charges in Thailand. Understandably. The prospect of a long term in gaol (any time is a long time in a Thai gaol), the chance of blowing a royal pardon if one pleads not-guilty, the breaking of social norms, such fates must weigh heavily on the minds of those charged with a crime that should have no place in modern law. This law is so morally politicised that its employment is equivalent to the imposition of a religious creed.
For some years the fear that has surrounded lèse majesté has been ebbing, and writings in the Thai language have ventured beyond royal hagiography. The future of Thai democracy will be more robust, in part, because of such work.
Most western academics working on Thailand who care about truth have probably, somewhere along the line, written something that could be construed as lese majeste if their writings were to fall into the wrong hands.
Western academics have been reasonably protected by the language barrier. Generally their work is not translated into Thai and it rarely reaches a Thai audience. Perhaps it is also because their work is not published in Thailand.
Thai Marxist Ji Giles Ungpakorn, an Associate Professor at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok, for some time has been willing to test what can be said about the monarchy in both English and the Thai language.
Quite rightly, he is motivated by a desire to understand and explain the nature of Thai politics. You can not do that without talking about the monarchy.
In his fearless book "A Coup for the Rich" he makes some comments about the monarchy and the use of that institution by the military. His right to make those comments should be supported by anyone who cares about freedom of speech, regardless of whether they agree or not with his argument.
Yesterday, the 20th January 2009, he was charged with lèse majesté because of "offending" passages in that book. For this "crime", if proven guilty, he may be imprisoned for up to 15 years.
Liberals, in the classic sense, typically believe in free speech. They assume that the best argument emerges from the free deliberation of citizens. But most political liberals in Thailand have long believed that the monarchy is a safety valve, a para-political institution that can help smooth the processes of economic, social and political transition. They generally fear an unmediated democracy where all are equal. Their willingness to trade the freedom-principle for stability in the name of elite liberalism (and their willingness to pact with statist conservatives) means that they are unlikely to support free speech.
Indeed, some will be pressing for "due process" in this case; that means the application of a "law", the merits of which even the incumbent king, Bhumiphol, questioned in 2005.
If this case goes ahead and Ji Giles Ungpakorn contests it, much more than the very important freedom of one person will be at stake. It is important that anyone who supports freedom of speech opposes the politicised use of lese majeste. I can think of no use of lese majeste that is not politicised.
For more information on Ji's case go to
http://wdpress.blog.co.uk/
On Jakraphop's lese majeste case see here
Very few people are able or willing to fight lèse majesté charges in Thailand. Understandably. The prospect of a long term in gaol (any time is a long time in a Thai gaol), the chance of blowing a royal pardon if one pleads not-guilty, the breaking of social norms, such fates must weigh heavily on the minds of those charged with a crime that should have no place in modern law. This law is so morally politicised that its employment is equivalent to the imposition of a religious creed.
For some years the fear that has surrounded lèse majesté has been ebbing, and writings in the Thai language have ventured beyond royal hagiography. The future of Thai democracy will be more robust, in part, because of such work.
Most western academics working on Thailand who care about truth have probably, somewhere along the line, written something that could be construed as lese majeste if their writings were to fall into the wrong hands.
Western academics have been reasonably protected by the language barrier. Generally their work is not translated into Thai and it rarely reaches a Thai audience. Perhaps it is also because their work is not published in Thailand.
Thai Marxist Ji Giles Ungpakorn, an Associate Professor at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok, for some time has been willing to test what can be said about the monarchy in both English and the Thai language.
Quite rightly, he is motivated by a desire to understand and explain the nature of Thai politics. You can not do that without talking about the monarchy.
In his fearless book "A Coup for the Rich" he makes some comments about the monarchy and the use of that institution by the military. His right to make those comments should be supported by anyone who cares about freedom of speech, regardless of whether they agree or not with his argument.
Yesterday, the 20th January 2009, he was charged with lèse majesté because of "offending" passages in that book. For this "crime", if proven guilty, he may be imprisoned for up to 15 years.
Liberals, in the classic sense, typically believe in free speech. They assume that the best argument emerges from the free deliberation of citizens. But most political liberals in Thailand have long believed that the monarchy is a safety valve, a para-political institution that can help smooth the processes of economic, social and political transition. They generally fear an unmediated democracy where all are equal. Their willingness to trade the freedom-principle for stability in the name of elite liberalism (and their willingness to pact with statist conservatives) means that they are unlikely to support free speech.
Indeed, some will be pressing for "due process" in this case; that means the application of a "law", the merits of which even the incumbent king, Bhumiphol, questioned in 2005.
If this case goes ahead and Ji Giles Ungpakorn contests it, much more than the very important freedom of one person will be at stake. It is important that anyone who supports freedom of speech opposes the politicised use of lese majeste. I can think of no use of lese majeste that is not politicised.
For more information on Ji's case go to
http://wdpress.blog.co.uk/
On Jakraphop's lese majeste case see here
June 5, 2008
Thailand: Lese Majeste and Jakrapop's Defence
Comment: If Jakarapop's (former Minister to the PM's Office) lese majeste case ever comes to court, one of his defences could be that in the 1970s Thai government manuals on democracy were critical of patronage and reliance on elders and sought to promote a more egalitarian political culture. As discussed in Democracy and National Identity in Thailand (p. 96):
"Before the consolidation of the ideology of ‘democracy with the king as head
of state’ in the 1980s (see Chapter 6), it was still possible to destabilize royalist
readings of democracy. For example, King Ramkhamhaeng’s bell is viewed critically
in this manual.As the Ramkhamhaeng stone inscription, reputedly from the late
thirteenth century, tells it, any one with a grievance needed only to ring the bell and the king would listen to their needs. The authors [of the democracy manual] reinterpret this as a negative thing, for it is seen as producing a culture of citizen dependency, of childlike relations with a father. Thus the old political culture is described as having imparted values of indifference in state matters and a perspective that ‘politics is a matter of those above and thus they [the people] have little ambition to go and vote’."
Jakrapop has said the kind of thing that erst-while liberals such as Chain-Anan S have publicly written about. Actually, the full text of the manual cited above may have been written under Chai-Anan's influence given his prominence at the time.
*** Update
Analysing the background and significance of this case see Shawn Crispin's piece in ATIMES.COM
"Before the consolidation of the ideology of ‘democracy with the king as head
of state’ in the 1980s (see Chapter 6), it was still possible to destabilize royalist
readings of democracy. For example, King Ramkhamhaeng’s bell is viewed critically
in this manual.As the Ramkhamhaeng stone inscription, reputedly from the late
thirteenth century, tells it, any one with a grievance needed only to ring the bell and the king would listen to their needs. The authors [of the democracy manual] reinterpret this as a negative thing, for it is seen as producing a culture of citizen dependency, of childlike relations with a father. Thus the old political culture is described as having imparted values of indifference in state matters and a perspective that ‘politics is a matter of those above and thus they [the people] have little ambition to go and vote’."
Jakrapop has said the kind of thing that erst-while liberals such as Chain-Anan S have publicly written about. Actually, the full text of the manual cited above may have been written under Chai-Anan's influence given his prominence at the time.
*** Update
Analysing the background and significance of this case see Shawn Crispin's piece in ATIMES.COM
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