The donations have come in response to an appeal from just one man: An 87-year-old monk, Luang Ta Bua.

At first glance, he may seem like a humble village monk. Yet this frail-looking, diminutive figure is known and revered by Buddhists across Thailand, and has been honoured by the king. And lately his fame has grown still further. Today, Luang Ta Bua finds himself embroiled in high finance and national politics--so much so that he and his followers pose a threat to the electoral prospects of the Democrat Party, which dominates the country's governing coalition.

The story begins with the financial crisis that hit Thailand in 1997. Phra Maha Bua, more popularly known as Luang Ta Bua, or "Old Monk" Bua, launched a national fundraising campaign called "Thai Help Thai" to help bolster Thailand's rapidly shrinking currency reserves. The monk asked his countrymen to donate foreign currency and 4,000 kilograms of gold. The response was phenomenal: So far, the campaign has collected $4.3 million in cash and 1,457 kilograms of gold.

But then came the question of what to do with the money. The Finance Ministry wanted to use the reserves to repay bad debts that have accumulated in the banking system since the crisis. But Luang Ta Bua would have none of it: He insisted the cash and gold must be kept untouched in the national reserves, or what he called "the national vault."

The ministry eventually accepted the monk's stipulation, but Luang Ta Bua wasn't so easily satisfied. He has continued to demand answers about the way the donations are being used and heaped abuse on ministry officials, describing them to his many followers as "ever-hungry ghouls seeking to eat people's guts" and "idiots who think of nothing but cheating on the country."

The Democrat Party, whose members occupy several key Finance Ministry posts, has attempted to reassure the monk that the money is safe, but its efforts have largely backfired. Deputy Finance Minister Pisit Leeatham met the monk at a meditation centre in Bangkok, but his attempt to explain what is happening to the money fell on stony ground.

"A forest monk doesn't know about federal reserves," says Thongkon Wongsamut, who is one of Luang Ta Bua's followers. "His question was whether the money would be used according to the aim of the donors, which was that it should be kept to help the country. But all we got back from the government was an insult."

Matters got worse after another deputy finance minister, Pichet Panvichartkul, caustically suggested that the donations were small and could be returned to the monk if he feared they might be misused. He also raised questions about the quality of the donated gold. Those remarks infuriated Luang Ta Bua's followers, who set about collecting the 50,000 signatures needed to ask the Senate to consider impeaching Finance Minister Tarrin Nimmanahaeminda.

While the attempt to oust Tarrin is unlikely to succeed, Luang Ta Bua's fury could still spell electoral trouble for the Democrats in the northeast of the country, the monk's base. Although the area hasn't been a traditional stronghold of the Democrats, who won fewer than 10% of the seats there in the last election, the party had hoped to gain ground this time around from the opposition New Aspiration Party. Worryingly for the Democrats, a national poll recently showed that just under 80% of Thais back the monk against the government.

"This will be a big issue during the election, which the Democrats will have to prepare for," says a politician in the governing coalition who asked not to be named. Although the monk's followers might not in themselves be strong enough to swing an election, they wield significant influence in the broader community. "They are people who are seen as somebody in society," says Somboon Suksamran, governor of Samutprakarn province and a former academic who has written about Buddhism and politics. "When those followers speak up, people listen."

The row, and its possible political implications, are a reminder of the continuing importance of Buddhism in Thailand. Along with the monarchy and the nation, Buddhism has traditionally been seen as one of the three pillars of the kingdom. "The role of the monk as saviour when society is in crisis has historical precedent," explains Sunet Chutintaranond, director of the Thai Study Centre at Chulalongkorn University. "There is a list of monks who did things like this."

The donations that Luang Ta Bua attracted are also a mark of the people's trust in Buddhist monks in a country where many politicians are tarred with accusations of corruption. "Faith in Luang Ta Bua came from the public, which sees him as a monk who doesn't seek personal gain," says Somboon.

But others are less sympathetic to the monk and his self-appointed role, arguing that it's not a monk's place to get involved in worldly issues--especially politics. Already, the row over the donations has led to allegations in Bangkok that Luang Ta Bua is being misled by followers bent on discrediting the Democrat Party's financial policy.

For Somboon, the problem for the Democrats may be that they have gained a dangerous enemy whose authority is drawn from the very roots of Thai society. "The religious and political domains in Thai society have always relied on each other," he says. "Religion gets protection and recognition from authority, and the authority receive legitimization from religion in return."

The Democrats, Somboon warns, will find it hard to maintain their credibility with the voters in the face of an assault from such a pillar of Thai society.