Thailand’s Court Poised to Plunge Democracy into Chaos on Referendum
This isn’t just about a court date; it’s about a system caught in an Escher painting, where the staircases of democracy lead endlessly back to the same starting point. Thailand’s Constitutional Court will rule on September 10th on the sequencing of referendums in amending the constitution, specifically whether parliament can approve a draft before public consent is sought. The case, originating from motions by Senator Premsak Piayura and MP Wisut Chainarun and forwarded by Parliament President Wan Muhamad Noor Matha, gets at the heart of democratic legitimacy and the very definition of popular sovereignty.
The court’s decision boils down to two questions: Can a referendum on wanting a new constitution occur after parliament approves a draft, potentially simultaneously with a vote on the draft itself? And can parliament even consider a constitutional amendment for a new charter without first gauging public support? “Bangkok Post” reports the questions stem from a joint parliamentary session held on March 17th.
These questions are not merely procedural. They’re deeply philosophical. It highlights the tension between representative democracy — where elected officials make decisions on our behalf — and direct democracy — where citizens directly participate through referendums. Which form has primacy? How do you ensure genuine participation while maintaining governmental functionality? This isn’t just a theoretical puzzle; it’s a practical problem with potentially explosive consequences.
This isn’t happening in a vacuum. Thailand’s history is pockmarked with coups and constitutional rewrites, often triggered by military intervention. Consider this data point: Since 1932, Thailand has had roughly 20 different constitutions, reflecting a persistent instability and underlying power struggles. But it’s not just the number of constitutions; it’s the process. Many were drafted under military juntas, lacking genuine public input, creating a cycle where each rewrite, intended to heal, instead further fractures trust.
The core issue, as legal scholar Dr. Thongchai Winichakul argued in his work, lies in the “official nationalism” that struggles to accommodate true popular sovereignty. Constitutional amendments become not genuine expressions of public will but tools for consolidating power. This isn’t unique to Thailand, of course. Across the globe, from Brexit in the UK to constitutional debates in Chile, we see similar struggles to define the relationship between elites, institutions, and the citizenry. But in Thailand, this plays out against a backdrop of deep inequality and a military that has repeatedly demonstrated its willingness to intervene in politics.
The key question then, isn’t simply which referendum comes first, but why this question is even so intensely contested. It reflects a deep-seated distrust: A distrust of the parliament to genuinely represent the people, and perhaps even distrust of the people to make informed decisions on complex constitutional matters. It reveals a paradox at the heart of democratic transitions: that the very institutions designed to empower the people are often viewed with suspicion, as tools of the elite.
After reviewing the submissions, the court concluded that the case presented issues of law for which sufficient evidence had already been provided and therefore decided to forego a full evidentiary hearing.
Professor Duncan McCargo, in his analysis of Thai politics, highlighted this problem of “ritualistic constitutionalism.” The form is observed, but the substance — the genuine participation, the buy-in from diverse stakeholders — is often missing. He argues the repeated constitutional rewrites end up legitimizing existing power structures rather than empowering the people. It’s not simply that constitutions are rewritten; it’s that they are rewritten without fundamentally shifting the balance of power.
The September 10th ruling will undoubtedly have significant short-term consequences. It will shape the immediate path of constitutional reform. But the deeper consequence is a continued erosion of trust in Thailand’s institutions. The fear is not simply that the court will make the “wrong” decision, but that any decision, in this climate of distrust, will be perceived as illegitimate by some segment of the population. Until that fundamental issue of trust is addressed, the cycle of rewriting the rules without actually changing the game will continue. The real problem is not that you do the referendum but if there is will and honesty to respect the process. The future of Thai democracy hinges not just on the content of its constitution, but on the willingness of its elites to cede power and trust in the judgment of the people.
