Two fingers from the Election Commission

 19 sep 2005

Following its final ruling on malpractice at the February 2005 polls, a monument should  be erected in memory of the Election Commission. The monument might show a man with a stack of money in one hand, a gun in the other, and a big smile on his face.

Of all the bodies established by the 1997 Constitution to reform Thai politics, the Election Commission seemed to have the best chance to succeed, if only because of what it replaced. Elections were run by the all-powerful Ministry of Interior. How far contests were won in the ballot boxes or in the ministry’s offices was always a matter of debate. Tough-guy politicians fought tooth-and-nail to take charge of this ministry partly because of its control over elections.

After the anti-military protests of May 1992, democracy activists identified the conduct of elections as a key area for reform. PollWatch was formed as an independent monitoring body. It had minimal funding and relied entirely on volunteers. It was no real match for the resources of influential local politicians, but made a strong moral point.

The drafters of the 1997 Constitution transferred the responsibility for running elections from the Ministry of Interior to the new Election Commission of Thailand (ECT). Officials in the ministry were furious. They lobbied strongly for this provision to be dropped. They rubbished the ECT during its early years of operation in the hope the change could be reversed.

The first Commission made a bold attempt to fulfil the spirit of the 1997 Constitution’s aim to reform Thai politics. At the Senate elections in 2000, the ECT rejected 78 of the 200 elected at the first round on grounds of various malpractices and technical errors. In total, six rounds of election were held before all the seats were filled. At the Assembly polls in 2001, the ECT rejected 62 of the 400 elected MPs at the first round, and again took several rounds to complete the process.

Section 136 of the Constitution lays down that members of the Commission must be “persons of apparent political impartiality and integrity.” The members of this first interim commission retired in late 2001. The selection of new members was the first sign that the drafters of the Constitution had made a big mistake in hoping the Senate would select “persons of apparent political impartiality and integrity” for the independent bodies. The two commission members who stood for reselection were rejected. New candidates lobbied support from senators in the manner of true politicians.

The new commissioners included General Sirin Thoopklam whose own election to the Senate had been voided by the ECT in 2000. He later became ECT chairman but was removed by the Constitutional Court on grounds his appointment had been technically incorrect. He was replaced by Police General Vasana Puemlarp, a close associate of General Chavalit Yongchaiyudh. The other members were a judge whose promotion had failed to gain royal approval, a bureaucrat under investigation for corruption, and another Interior Ministry official who had earlier been accused of printing fake election ballots.

A Thai daily greeted this new commission with the headline “Political reform is over.” All the new members and fifty staff went to swear an oath before the Emerald Buddha. While the earlier interim ECT went about its business very publicly in order to arouse public support for its attempts to constrain influence, the new Commission turfed the reporters out of its offices and returned to the traditions of secrecy.

The ECT’s conduct of the 2005 elections presents a total contrast to its predecessor’s efforts in 2001. Immediately after the poll, it disqualified only one MP for malpractice and two others on technical grounds. After investigating 41 charges of irregularity over the subsequent six months, it disqualified only three MPs. None of the disqualifications were on grounds of vote-buying, intimidation, violence, illegal promises, or other chicanery. We are asked to believe that the 2005 elections were squeaky clean. Banharn Silpa-archa, who might be considered an expert on these matters, thought it was one of the dirtiest. Three-in-four respondents to an ABAC poll just before the election judged that vote-buying was “severe.”

The ECT has effectively ruled that all the usual kinds of electoral malpractice are now alright. You can get away with them.

All three disqualified are from the opposition. Given that the opposition won only 91 of 400 constituency seats, the probability that all three disqualified would be from the opposition is 1-in-185. So on statistical grounds, this was not chance but bias. (Before the poll, the ECT tried to disqualify six candidates of which five were from the opposition, but was overruled by the Constitutional Court.)

The ECT made its disqualifications without giving those affected any chance to offer a defence. It thus turned itself into a kangaroo court, quite in line with the anti-democratic trend of the present era.

One of those disqualified is accused of advertising his polling number of eleven by raising two fingers as he left the polling both. Another is accused of attacking Thaksin’s handling of the south and distributing the Tak Bai video. Some would consider that a quite legitimate attempt to focus the electorate on the country’s major problem.

But the most awful and ironic is the case of Sata Awaekueji from Pattani. He allegedly said “I’m not Thai Rak Thai, whose leader is wealthy. He can buy a vote for Bt1,000. They are rich, so don’t vote for them,” This is judged to be defaming a rival. But a sympathetic person might argue this is a statement of fact (Thaksin is rich and he does have the ability to spend a thousand baht on anything), and an appeal to class interest (don’t vote for the rich). But these are precisely the kind of facts and appeals which are a direct challenge to the key principle of Thai elections, namely that money wins.

The Election Commission has just given two fingers to the cause of political reform.