The culture of Thaksin

3 March 2003

Thaksin Shinawatra is much more than just another prime minister.

When US academics came to Thailand after the Second World War, they invented two terms to describe Thailand’s political system. First, they called it a "bureaucratic polity", meaning people with official titles (civil and military) had a monopoly on power. Second, they called the businessmen "pariah entrepreneurs". Because of their family origins as Chinese immigrants, they were forced to hang onto bureaucratic patron. They had no more social standing than the outcastes in Indian society.

The picture may have been a bit overdrawn, but not by much. Chinese had been immigrating into Siam/Thailand for centuries. But the old rulers manipulated administrative power and cultural symbols to keep them under control, and to prevent commercial wealth overthrowing the old order.

But since 1970, this position has been transformed. For around three decades, attacks on this old order were mounted in both politics and culture. The pressure to replace dictatorship with parliamentary democracy was pioneered largely by the student sons and daughters of Chinese-origin families, and then supported more cautiously by their businessman fathers. As the dictatorial atmosphere lifted, a generation of "jek" intellectuals demanded greater recognition for the Chinese contribution to Thailand’s history and culture.

After the economy boomed in the mid-1980s, popular authors dramatised the story of the Chinese immigrants’ success in TV dramas and popular novels. After mainland China reopened to the world, people who were two generations removed from China began to relearn their Chineseness through how-to books and language schools.

Thaksin is not the first politician of Chinese origin to climb to the top. Chuan is Chinese on one side of his family. Banharn is on both, and is much closer than Thaksin in style to the typical image of the Chinese immigrant. But Chuan survived by mimicking (perfectly) the style of the old-fashioned bureaucrat, while Banharn struggled (unsuccessfully) to overcome his origins. Thaksin represents something different and much more powerful. He is the man of Chinese origins who has succeeded by the local ground rules.

This takes several generations—in Thaksin’s case, five. One or two to create a secure financial base. Another one or two to invest in education, and find ways around the little barriers erected across the high-status career paths. And then a last generation to gain the international credentials obligatory in the age of globalisation.

Thaksin has the business success and huge wealth which are the first qualification for a "new man" to challenge the old order in any society. But he also has the US doctorate and the worldliness acquired alongside ("I am a Texan at heart"). And he has the official rank and status which come from attending the military staff college, and serving in the police.

More significantly, he is not alone. He has kin and in-laws scattered through the military officer elite, the police, and various ministries. He is just one part of a much larger social change. It is these family connections, as well as the personal links built up in his passage up the ladder of success, which make him so successful and so significant.

His rise to the top is both a part of—and a major contribution to—a big change in the national culture.

A few weeks ago, television showed Thaksin addressing the massed ranks of senior officialdom about bureaucratic reform. He did not talk about the ideal of bureaucratic service, the good of the nation, unity, and the usual vocabulary of such pep-talks. Instead he gave them a short survey of pop management theory and futurology. He littered his talk with far more English words than was needed for the jargon. The audience paid respectful attention but their eyes betrayed bafflement and traces of panic.

But the changes go far beyond such things. Take language. Dr Somkid Jatusripitak delivers public speeches with great fluency (hardly glancing at a note) and some passion. But his accent is so heavy it would have been subject to ridicule only a few years ago. Yet now he is a minister in the inner circle, and nobody dares to comment. Several other ministers lapse into the rhythm, intonation and breathiness which have been adopted by TV actors as the way to signal Chineseness.

And take ideals of beauty. Until recently, singers and starlets faced difficulty if they looked "too Chinese". People of Chinese origin dominated their audience, but were not yet confident enough to see their (idealised) selves reflected out of the TV screen. As substitutes, they preferred the "pan-Asian look" which was somehow Asian without being either Chinese or Thai. Or the luk kreung look of mixed Asian/Western parentage.

But in the last few years, tastes have changed. The switch was pioneered by mavericks like Joey Boy who deliberately parodied his own looks by adding a pigtail and performing in pyjamas. But since then the Chinese look has become totally mainstream. Ticha Luengpairoj, elected Miss Thailand World last October, is a China doll. Only a few years ago, her looks would have been "too Chinese".

Skin-lightening creams appeal to an urban-vs-rural aspiration which is found across Asia. But recently the producers have begun to claim their creams deliver a pale but rosy complexion associated with cooler latitudes to the north.

Bangkok has been a Chinese city for a long time. For ages, the rulers have pressured the Chinese (and other immigrants) to fade into the local culture. But now there have been two full generations since Chinese migration tailed off after the Second World War. With the route back to the Chinese homeland blocked by Maoism, many migrant families succumbed happily to the pressure to "become Thai". By inter-marriage and common experience, the boundary between Thai and Chinese has been totally blurred. But by "becoming Thai" so successfully and in such numbers, the Chinese have changed what "being Thai" means. And now they are in control.