Thailand’s Soft Power Play: Can Scandal-Tainted Family Rescue Political Fortunes?
What happens when the social contract isn’t between citizens and state, but between generations of a single family and a nation? Thailand is offering a real-time answer. Paetongtarn Shinawatra, currently sidelined as Prime Minister due to an ethics investigation, is nonetheless plunging into her role as Minister of Culture, headlining the “SPLASH — Soft Power Forum 2025.” The timing, to put it mildly, is instructive, underscoring the interwoven nature of personal scandal and political legitimacy in Thailand, and the enduring power of family dynasties.
The forum, as reported by Khaosod, aims to convert Thai creative industries into tangible economic growth. The argument is well-worn: soft power as economic elixir. But the list of speakers tells a deeper story: her father, Thaksin Shinawatra, and former Prime Minister Srettha Thavisin, both carrying significant political baggage, will share the stage. The question isn’t just whether soft power can flourish in contested political soil, but whether it can even exist when cultivated by figures perceived as fundamentally compromised.
The government is inviting citizens to join this showcase under the banner “Thailand’s Opportunities in Creative Cultural Industries,” touting opportunities to nurture “Thai cultural capital toward sustainable new economic growth,” across 14 sectors. But what signal does it send when those at the helm are simultaneously navigating an ethics probe? It’s not simply about optics; it’s about whether the messenger undermines the message itself.
This isn’t just about exporting Thai movies or pop songs. It’s about the foundational legitimacy of a government increasingly perceived as operating under a cloud of corruption and nepotism. "SPLASH' feels less like a celebration of Thai culture and more like a calculated attempt to rehabilitate a leadership under pressure. The problem isn’t soft power per se, but the instrumentalization of culture to shore up eroding political capital.
The emphasis on soft power isn’t accidental. Thailand, like many countries, understands the value of projecting a positive image. But genuine soft power springs from genuine strength — a sense of shared values and national purpose. The credibility of that message relies heavily on the perceived integrity of its conveyors. When leadership is under investigation and prominently features figures from a tainted past, it risks transforming soft power into something closer to propaganda. Think of it as trying to sell a luxury product with a visibly damaged logo.
Political scientist Joseph Nye, who coined the term “soft power,” emphasizes the importance of authentic cultural exchanges. As Nye wrote in “Soft Power: The Means to Success in World Politics,” soft power is most effective when it’s “attractive and legitimate.” How many of these elements are realistically present, given the current circumstances? The very act of promoting culture becomes suspect when viewed through the lens of self-preservation.
Consider the broader arc of Thai history. The nation has weathered multiple coups and periods of intense political turbulence. The Shinawatra family, in particular, has been a consistent point of contention, with Thaksin ousted in a 2006 military coup, and his sister Yingluck similarly removed in 2014. This pattern underscores a key tension: the persistent allure of strong, centralized leadership clashing with democratic aspirations. The current situation — Paetongtarn’s suspension, the presence of Thaksin and Srettha at “SPLASH” — echoes this fraught past.
Thaksin’s inclusion, for example, is particularly telling. It risks overshadowing the intended promotion of Thai culture and reinforcing perceptions of political interference and the Shinawatra family’s outsized influence. It’s a calculated risk that could either reinforce their power or amplify existing divisions. He’s a symbol both of populist appeal and of alleged corruption — a walking Rorschach test for Thai politics.
Ultimately, “SPLASH” is inextricably linked to Thailand’s complex political landscape. By emphasizing cultural promotion, the regime may hope to distract from deeper, structural problems. This isn’t a new strategy, of course. The question is whether it will succeed in diverting attention, or whether it will simply add more uncertainty to an already unpredictable political environment, where image and reality are constantly vying for dominance. The more profound issue is whether soft power can be genuinely effective when it’s deployed not as an expression of national identity, but as a tool for political survival.
