CHANG NOI

|
The Democrat Party: a premature obituary 30 September 2002 The Democrat Party was born in the period of extraordinary political ferment and change at the end of the second world war. For the first time, a new constitution gave real power to an elective parliament and responsible government. The war and Japanese occupation had stirred up great social and economic changes. The Democrat Party was formed by royalists who wanted to reestablish a foothold in politics, lost since the revolution in 1932. Faced by other social forces (labour, intellectuals, businessmen) which saw this moment as an opportunity for great social change, they made a pact with the devil to prevent such change. They allied with the generals. It was not a good move. The generals used them as screen for a while, then tossed them aside and closed down the whole parliamentary experiment. Death number one. The party was reborn along with parliamentary politics in the 1970s. This second life was a bit longer but not by much. The old royalist base was expanded by bureaucrats, businessmen, and professionals who had high hopes for parliamentary democracy. But this was the height of the Cold War. In 1975-6, politics was polarised into right and left. The Democrat Party tried to walk a middle course which became narrower and narrower and finally disappeared. The flanks of the party peeled away. Finally the Democrats were too weak to prevent the generals stepping forward and again tossing out both the Democrat Party and democracy. Death number two. The party was reborn again as parliamentary politics took root in the 1980s. But this new incarnation was very different from the earlier ones. Parliament was taken over by businessmen, mostly from the provinces. Under so-called semi-democracy, the military kept firm control over the key ministries and offices, and tossed crumbs to the elected politicians. Politics became an elaborate game of alliance-making and deal-brokering to get access to these crumbs. The Democrats was one of the three parties which became quite good at this. But it was a rough-and-tumble game. At the end of the 1980s, the party was torn apart, this time from the inside, by rival crumb-chasing factions. Death number three. The following rebirth was the most spectacular, in three ways. First, in the 1980s, the party had begun to be identified with the southern region. After 1988, this identification was stronger. Second, in 1992, Chuan Leekpai became the first elected prime minister who had neither a social or military title, who came from the market society of a small and remote provincial town, and who made a fetish of his modest background. Third and most importantly, the Democrats became the party which best represented Thailand’s urban society during the height of the urban boom. The party acquired technocrats who promised to manage the economy which was generating so much new wealth. It recruited a new generation of bright young MPs who symbolised the urban fantasy that Thailand could quickly and easily be transformed into a world-class modern society. Following this makeover, the Democrats became the most successful party of the 1990s. They headed the governing coalition for all but 28 months from September 1992 until the 2001 elections—despite winning only one election and never gaining more than a third of total seats. They had a strong base in Bangkok and the more-than-average urbanised south. They got urban support to return to power in 1997. Since 1997, the party has died many times. Its vision of Thailand’s easy transition to modernity died in an eye-blink in 1997. Its standing as a national party died at the polls in 2001. Even then, the conventional wisdom was that Thailand would evolve towards a 2-party system with the Democrats as one of the players. But as Thaksin has risen in stature, even that optimism has died. Abhisit Vejjajiva once seemed like the perfect successor as party leader—Chuan reincarnate with youth, good looks, and a broader social vision. Month by month, he seems ever more to lack experience, and sheer force of personality. As Thaksin’s ambitions have grown from 4 to 8 to 12 and now to 16 years in power, Democrat MPs face what must seem like an infinity in the desert with their throats parched. The temptation to defect must be strong. The prospect of Banyat as party leader, or Sanan reinstalled as party manager, are evidence that the party has already died again, and that what we now see are the shadows of ghosts and zombies. The search for a new leader is not the real problem. The party needs a reason to exist, a reason to be reborn again. The fantasy of a new modern Thailand, which made enough sense to enough people during the boom, no longer works. Fixed on their urban vision, the Democrats failed to understand the most important change of the 1990s—that rural people got angry, got articulate, and got organised. The Democrats believed Thailand’s rural society would soon disappear, and in the meantime should just keep quiet. The Democrats lost in 2001 because they were too identified with the IMF strategy, but also because they had no appeal to the rural majority in the electorate. Thai politics is a funny mix of old and new. The old game of godfathers, personal factions, and backroom deals still lives. But a new game of public politics has come into being. Thaksin won in 2001 because he played both. In mid-term, with elections distant, the old game rises in importance. It’s possible (briefly) to believe that the next innovation in Thai politics might be a dinosaur coalition of Snoh, Sanan and Banharn. But as elections approach, the new public politics will revive. If the Democrats are to be reborn again, they will need another transformation—not just a new leader, but a vision of Thailand’s future with a broad appeal.
|