Thailand Offers Citizenship, But a Catch Remains for Many
Thailand is a land of smiles, or so the tourism brochures claim. But for roughly 140,000 people, that smile has been replaced by the quiet despair of statelessness. It’s a silent tragedy, often obscured by the glitter of temples and bustling markets. Now, finally, that might be changing. As reported by Khaosod, Thailand is launching a new initiative to expedite citizenship for specific groups born in the country to foreign parents. This isn’t just about bureaucratic streamlining; it’s about confronting a fundamental question: who deserves to belong, and who gets to decide?
The policy, signed into effect by Deputy Interior Minister Thirarat Samrejwanit, targets long-established ethnic minorities, including the Morgan Sea Nomads, who have often fallen through the cracks of national identity. It seems straightforward enough: identify eligible individuals already in the civil registry, conduct background checks (oversight provided by superintendent-level police officers) and grant citizenship. And it aims to provide nationality to those interviewed and registered before 1999, persons born to parents registered as stateless and some children whose parents have residence permits.
Yet, the devil, as always, is in the details. The Director General retains the power to revoke citizenship if someone’s “behavior” is deemed inconsistent with the criteria or poses a “national security risk.” That vague language leaves significant room for discretion and potential abuse. It also highlights the inherent tension within citizenship itself: it’s not just a legal status; it’s a permission slip, granted and revocable by the state, contingent on adherence to often unspoken social norms.
Permanent Secretary Unsit Sampuntharat emphasized this represents the first time Thailand has addressed citizenship issues in such a concrete and accelerated manner, earning praise from international organizations.
What we’re seeing in Thailand is a microcosm of a global problem. The UNHCR estimates that millions worldwide are stateless, deprived of basic rights, access to education, healthcare, and employment. They become invisible people in plain sight. Their status often stems from discriminatory laws, gaps in nationality legislation, or administrative hurdles that disproportionately impact marginalized communities. More subtly, it stems from the way nation-states, even well-meaning ones, define themselves against an Other.
The roots of this problem run deep. Thailand, like many post-colonial states, has wrestled with defining national identity in a context of diverse ethnicities and contested borders. As historian Thongchai Winichakul argued in his seminal work Siam Mapped, the very concept of a fixed national territory and citizenry is a relatively recent invention, imposed by Western powers and internalized by the local elite. Consider the 1913 Nationality Act, a direct response to European pressure, that laid the groundwork for defining “Thai-ness” in ways that often excluded those on the periphery. It involved redrawing physical and social boundaries to define who belonged and who didn’t.
And while Thailand is laudable in its attempt to formally resolve cases of statelessness in a structured way, it is still not comprehensive. The exclusion of migrant workers and refugees is notable. These groups are frequently among the most vulnerable and are often excluded from citizenship rights in the name of national security or economic protectionism. This reveals the selective nature of empathy, a theme discussed by Martha Nussbaum in Political Emotions, where she argues how political actors sometimes evoke or diminish compassion for political gains. But it also points to something deeper: the instrumental use of citizenship to bolster national economies, a calculation that often devalues human dignity in the pursuit of GDP growth.
This isn’t just a legal or administrative issue; it’s a moral one. Citizenship shouldn’t be a lottery determined by birthplace or ethnic background. It’s a fundamental right, necessary for human flourishing. Thailand’s new initiative is a step in the right direction, but its success hinges on ensuring transparency, accountability, and a commitment to inclusivity that extends beyond the politically expedient. It will necessitate a genuine shift in perspective, recognizing that true national strength comes not from exclusion, but from embracing the rich tapestry of human experience within its borders. But even then, the underlying question remains: can the modern nation-state, inherently defined by borders and boundaries, ever truly overcome its own exclusionary logic? Only then can Thailand’s smile be extended to all who call it home, not as a favor, but as a right.
