Thailand’s Thaksin Resurfaces Exposing Rotten Foundations of Thai Democracy
Thailand’s political theater, always a dizzying spectacle, is playing out another act. But is it really theater, or a symptom of something far more profound — a deeper, more tragic flaw in the very foundations of Thai democracy? Former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, the perennial protagonist even from exile, has re-emerged, attempting to steady his daughter’s, Paetongtarn Shinawatra’s, floundering premiership. But his return doesn’t just raise questions about dynastic politics; it compels us to confront a more uncomfortable truth: are individual personalities truly driving events, or are they merely puppets dancing to the tune of deeper, systemic rot?
Thaksin’s comeback tour, including public appearances and pronouncements on sensitive topics like the lese majeste law, is transparently an attempt to shore up a shaky regime. As one Bangkok Post article notes, academics like Phichai Ratnatilaka Na Bhuket observe that it’s a play to appease the conservative establishment, signaling Pheu Thai’s willingness to play by their rules. This isn’t simply about policy preference; it’s about the structural incentives for survival within Thailand’s intensely polarized political landscape, a landscape where real power resides not in elected office, but in the shadows of military barracks and palace chambers.
“He is sending a message that even without Bhumjaithai, Pheu Thai is still standing. It is to show his deal remains the primary deal. There’s no need for a new formula. It’s Thaksin and Pheu Thai only.”
But Thaksin’s attempts to steer the ship are perhaps more problematic than helpful. Bangkok Post reports a decline in Pheu Thai’s popularity, particularly in their northeastern stronghold. His presence reinforces the perception of him as a puppet master, further undermining Paetongtarn’s legitimacy. Are we then witnessing a father rescuing his daughter, or a figure trapped by the very system he helped to create — a system that ultimately devours its own?
The problem isn’t merely a father-daughter dynamic; it’s about the fundamental tension in Thai politics between populism and entrenched power. Thaksin rose to power through a powerful populist movement promising economic upliftment to the rural poor, directly challenging the traditional elite comprised of the military, the monarchy, and wealthy families. This challenge triggered a series of coups and judicial interventions, all aimed at re-establishing the established order. Consider the 2006 coup, justified by the military as a necessary intervention to prevent “division” — a thinly veiled attempt to silence a democratically elected leader who threatened the established hierarchy.
This brings us to a deeper structural issue: the lack of institutional strength and trust in Thailand’s democracy. As political scientist Thongchai Winichakul argues in “Siam Mapped,” Thailand’s history is riddled with attempts to define and control power through legal and extralegal means, creating a culture of political instability and mistrust. When institutions are perceived as biased or weak, personalities and backroom deals inevitably take center stage. The Constitutional Court’s looming ruling in Ms. Paetongtarn’s case is a prime example of this structural dynamic where the legal system is used as a political tool — a tool wielded not to uphold the law, but to maintain the status quo. It’s not just about interpreting the constitution; it’s about deciding who gets to define it.
Furthermore, the reliance on “big houses” and allied parties mentioned in the Bangkok Post piece reveals the fragmented nature of Thai politics, where alliances are fluid and power is often brokered through patronage networks. This creates a system where short-term political expediency trumps long-term institutional building and genuine political representation. It’s a system where personal connections and financial resources outweigh policy platforms and public service.
This ultimately comes down to a crisis of legitimacy. Is the Pheu Thai government legitimately representing the will of the people, or is it merely the latest permutation of a power struggle among entrenched interests? Thaksin’s return, however well-intentioned, underscores the deeply embedded problems within Thai politics: weak institutions, a history of military interventions, and a constant tug-of-war between populist aspirations and conservative forces. Is it possible for a system so fundamentally compromised to ever truly represent the people? Stepping aside might not be the answer, but it may be that it is now time for a new generation to make the choice, a generation willing to dismantle the structures of power, not just rearrange them. The next chapter is yet to be written, but its ink will be drawn from the well of Thailand’s past, and its future hinges on whether the nation can finally learn from its history.
