Thailand’s elite power plays exposed: personal feuds corrupt democracy
The personal is political, goes the feminist mantra. But in Thailand, the personal is power, and that distinction matters profoundly. Thaksin Shinawatra’s very public excoriation of Cambodian leader Hun Sen — a denunciation sparked by an alleged betrayal involving Thaksin’s daughter, Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra — isn’t just a family squabble playing out on the world stage. It’s a stark reminder of how easily democratic aspirations can be subverted by the gravitational pull of personal relationships and the murky calculus of elite self-interest. This latest drama, documented by Khaosod, pulls back the curtain on a system where whispered promises and backroom deals can override the rule of law, and where the lines between public service and private enrichment are perpetually blurred.
According to Thaksin, Hun Sen orchestrated a calculated sting operation — a suspiciously timed phone call, a clandestine recording — designed to undermine Paetongtarn. “He hurt my daughter to this extent — I was shocked that this could happen," Thaksin lamented. The accusations arrive amidst a backdrop of Thailand’s crackdown on scam operations operating out of Cambodia, further complicated by allegations of Hun Sen’s nephew’s involvement in money laundering connected to a blacklisted Chinese company. But these accusations, however explosive, are merely symptoms. The underlying disease is a political culture where personal loyalty trumps institutional integrity.
This isn’t simply about hurt feelings; it’s about the incentives built into a system where corruption and patronage are not bugs, but features. Consider the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997, which exposed the rot of crony capitalism in Suharto’s Indonesia, where politically connected firms were propped up by state-directed credit, leading to widespread economic devastation. Or the enduring power of political dynasties in the Philippines, where a handful of families continue to dominate the political landscape, perpetuating inequality and limiting social mobility. Southeast Asia, despite its impressive economic strides, struggles to escape the clutches of these deeply ingrained power structures, where who you know often matters more than what you know, or even what the law says.
‘No one associates with him anymore, and no one dares to speak with him now because you never know if conversations are being recorded,’ he concluded.
The echoes of Thaksin’s accusations resonate far beyond Thailand’s borders. From the cozy relationship between regulators and the industries they oversee in the United States, which can lead to regulatory capture and lax enforcement, to the lobbying practices of the European Union, where powerful corporations can exert undue influence on policy decisions, the potential for corruption and influence-peddling exists wherever concentrated power and private interests converge. The fundamental challenge, then, is designing institutions strong enough to withstand the corrosive effects of human self-interest. As James Madison famously argued in Federalist No. 51, ‘If men were angels, no government would be necessary.’ The question isn’t whether individuals will pursue their own interests, but how to channel those interests in a way that serves the broader public good.
Which brings us to the parallel narrative of Thaksin’s day: his vision for Thailand’s creative economy. He champions "ThaiWORKS,” an initiative to elevate Thai products globally, building on his earlier OTOP program. He even enlisted Peter Arnell, a branding guru who has worked with Samsung. Thaksin hopes to rebrand the sector from its initial start to a national success story.
But here’s the central tension: sustainable economic development rests on a foundation of strong institutions, the rule of law, and transparency. It requires a government that prioritizes public interest over private gain. Thaksin can talk about branding, but branding is just window dressing. It won’t cure the deeper malaise afflicting Thailand’s political system. Thailand’s recurring political instability, exemplified by the coups that derailed his previous initiatives, demonstrates just how fragile progress can be when the foundations are built on the shifting sands of personal power.
Political scientist Francis Fukuyama, in his seminal work Political Order and Political Decay, argues that modern political order requires a delicate balance of three components: a strong state, the rule of law, and accountable government. Thailand’s ongoing struggles suggest that achieving this balance is a generational project, demanding not just economic vision, but a fundamental transformation of the country’s political culture.
Thaksin is right to call for unity and to criticize the tendency toward political drama. But until Thailand confronts the underlying systemic issues of corruption and patronage, the personal will inevitably remain political, and the country will remain locked in a cycle of instability and unrealized potential. Thaksin may possess vision, connections, and a Rolodex brimming with influential names, but without a solid institutional foundation, those assets are akin to building a skyscraper on a swamp. This saga of trust and betrayal in Southeast Asia may only be the opening act in a much longer, more complex drama.
