Looking for Khun Estrada

8 June 1998

In Jakarta, an aristocratic, military-backed dictator is brought down by popular agitation. In Manila, a poorly-educated, dissolute ex-film-star is voted in to the horror of the middle class and international observers.

Is this a wind of change blowing through Asia? And will it blow through Bangkok?

Certainly we are in for some change in political leadership. In the same week as these two momentous events, churchmouse-poor Chuan Leekpai (net family assets: 5 million baht) was accused of leading the rich, while fat-cat Chavalit Yongchaiyudh (net family assets: 1800 million baht) claimed to lead the poor. Something does seem a little wrong. Thaksin Shinawatra seized the moment to confess he is setting up a party. Meanwhile, the death of Chatichai Choonhaven will – after a respectable delay – set off a lot of banging about in the elephant’s graveyard of Thai politics.

But is Estrada the new Asian model? If we are looking for the next Thai leader, should we forget about Chavalit (the Suharto admirer) and Thaksin (the Daimler donor), and instead go to the movies?

Of course the Philippines can easily be dismissed as the least typical country of the region – a Latin American state lost in Asia. But the Estrada model is not new. In India, such film-star politicians have been around for decades. The last elections in south India pitted an old matinee-idol against his former leading lady (a bitter contest indeed). The Philippine and south Indian models are strikingly similar. As film stars, they play roles of gods and heroes of the poor. They right the wrongs which the rich do to the poor, either by macho valour or divine power. Years later, the electors remember these images and vote them in – even though, in the time in-between, they may have grown old, ugly, dissolute and corrupt.

The prospect of an Estrada-like figure in Thai politics currently seems very remote. There is no sign of an experienced hero-figure movie-star with political ambitions. Sorapong Chatri almost fits the role but seems to have no inclination. Ron Ritthichai plunged into politics but so lacked charisma he lost 6 consecutive elections before getting a seat in parliament.

Thai politics is dominated by rich plutocrats. The asset declarations showed politicians (with the single exception of Chuan) are hundred to a thousand times richer than the average man. Thaksin’s new party seems founded on the "ideology of money". In this background, an Estrada figure seems unimaginable. But maybe these pluto-politics are exactly the right breeding ground.

So what were the factors behind the rise of star politicians in India and the Philippines? Three things stand out.

First, religious beliefs. In both areas, religion taught people to believe in saints and goddesses which can transform the fortunes of individuals or whole societies through magical power. The Philippines has the redemptive strain of catholic christianity. South India has bhakti Hinduism. Both religions taught through stories which made these magical figures almost human. And in the Indian case, the star politicians portrayed these roles during their film careers.

Second, mass media. In both these areas, cinema became hugely popular because it provided the villagers with a new and dazzling window onto the outside world. Cinema replaced religious festivals as the outstanding colour and drama which provided relief from hard work and poverty.

Third, electoral freedom. These star politicians emerged when the mass electorate suddenly had more freedom to choose. In India they appeared after colonialism had retreated and the fire of nationalism had dulled. In the Philippines, Estrada has risen as the cold-war patronage politics have lost their hold, and the significance of Cory Aquino’s revolution has faded.

Judged against these criteria, what then are the prospects for a Thai Estrada?

On the first point, rural Thailand certainly has a tradition of religious rebel leaders who claim to turn the world upside down, especially in the north and northeast. History is littered with revolts led by phumibun or holy men who promise to overturn the social order and found a heaven on earth. The last instances were recorded in the 1930s. Is this tradition still lurking in the folk memory, waiting to be released by a new-style political saviour?

On the second point, the coming of cinema does not seem to have been such a dramatic event in rural Thailand. And the Thai cinema does not seem to have been so fascinated with poor-avenging-rich Robin Hood figures, or with gods and goddesses who turn the world upside down.

But maybe cinema is the wrong place to look. The important element is the transforming power of mass media, which can make a star into both a magically glamorous figure and at the same time everybody’s friend or neighbour. Elsewhere in the developing world, mass electorates have picked pop stars, sportsmen, beauty queens, even poets. Thailand may not have the same sort of cinema as India and the Philippines. But it is certainly star-struck.

On the third point, the Thai rural electorate certainly seems close to the point of release. In the past, rural voters have been trussed up by the patronage ties of the local bosses, and cowed by the establishment’s fear of any rural organisation which shows independence and assertiveness. These obstacles have begun to dissolve. With the education reforms made almost a decade ago, the educational profile of the rural electorate is set to change rapidly. Even more important, the partial liberalisation of the electronic media has given rural people access to a political education, through the daily TV news, and the dramatic coverage of no-confidence debates, the passage of the new constitution, and leadership crises. The financial crash has begun to undermine the stultifying myth of urban superiority. And finally, the new constitution and election rules will change the success factors in poll contests.

The next election is perhaps too soon to expect a change. But if we are looking to spot the leader of the early 21^st century, maybe we should stop comparing the bank balances of telecom tycoons, scouting the family trees of Soi Rajguru, and urging Abhisit to grow up quickly. Perhaps instead we should be sifting through the faces on the game shows, the luk thung stages, and the TV soaps.