Thailand’s Recurring Coups and Constitutional Chaos Trap Democracy in Endless Loop
Thailand’s political theater, playing out now in the Future Forward Building, isn’t simply a matter of choosing a prime minister. It’s a symptom of a deeper malady: the recurring fever of Thai democracy, perpetually spiking with coups and constitutional revisions. The agonizing public deliberations of the People’s Party — will they back Bhumjaithai’s Anutin Charnvirakul or Pheu Thai’s Chaikasem Nitisiri, as reported by the Bangkok Post — expose a system where political instability is not a bug, but a feature.
Parit Wacharasindhu’s brazen demand that Pheu Thai dissolve the House underscores the inherent fragility. The People’s Party, Parliament’s largest faction, now finds itself, improbably, as kingmaker after the Constitutional Court sidelined Paetongtarn Shinawatra. Is this a sincere attempt to return power to the electorate, or just clever maneuvering for advantage in a game with constantly shifting rules? The public focuses on the tactical specifics, but the real question is this: why is Thai democracy so consistently susceptible to these kinds of pressure points?
“We are calling on Pheu Thai to make a decision today — either dissolve the House or we will decide who should be the next prime minister,” he said outside party headquarters at the Future Forward Building.
Beneath the surface theatrics lies a chasm of political division, rooted in Thailand’s recent history. Thaksin Shinawatra’s ascendancy and populist policies, while undeniably popular with large segments of the population, directly challenged the ingrained power of the monarchy and the military establishment. His 2006 ouster wasn’t just a singular event; it inaugurated a self-perpetuating cycle: popularly elected governments are followed by military interventions, leading to newly drafted constitutions strategically designed to limit the authority of elected officials. Consider this: every single military coup has been justified on the grounds of “restoring democracy.” Even the People’s Party’s current “consultation” process, while seemingly democratic, operates under the long shadow of these interventions; the threat of military action shapes even ostensibly civilian political calculations.
Thailand’s predicament reflects, and arguably magnifies, a broader global trend. Yascha Mounk, in The People vs. Democracy, argues that liberal democracy is decaying not from external threats, but from within, hollowed out by declining faith in institutions, rising economic inequality, and the corrosive effects of digital disinformation. Thailand embodies these trends, but with a uniquely Thai twist: its political system is a battlefield where these forces are amplified by the enduring legacy of military dominance.
The constitution, ideally the solid foundation of a political order, feels in Thailand like a perpetually evolving, malleable document, always susceptible to being reshaped by those holding the reins of power. Since 1932, Thailand has churned through 20 constitutions — an average of one every 4.6 years. The People’s Party’s insistence on a new constitutional referendum as a condition for their support speaks volumes about their — and much of the public’s — profound skepticism toward the legitimacy of the existing order.
Ultimately, Thailand’s current impasse isn’t simply about individual personalities or specific policies; it stems from the chronic absence of a shared commitment to core democratic principles, and a fundamental lack of consensus on the legitimate source of authority. Without that foundational agreement, Thailand risks remaining caught in a never-ending loop of political turmoil, where power games continue to overshadow the genuine needs and aspirations of its people. And that cycle, if unbroken, risks becoming self-fulfilling, further eroding faith in democratic processes and institutions with each revolution.
