Thailand’s Populist Promise Faces Graft Probe; Constitutionality Questioned
Imagine a government promising to jumpstart a stalled engine with a shot of pure populism. Now imagine that shot is potentially illegal, maybe even unconstitutional. This isn’t just about a 10,000-baht digital handout in Thailand; it’s about the iron law of political gravity, where the immediate allure of popular support constantly threatens to pull down the long-term structure of responsible governance. Is this a legitimate attempt at Keynesian stimulus, or a politically expedient gamble that mortgages the future?
The Bangkok Post reports that the National Anti-Corruption Commission (NACC) is under pressure to investigate the Srettha Thavisin and Paetongtarn Shinawatra governments. The core allegation? That reallocating state loan repayment funds to the 35-billion-baht digital wallet scheme violates Section 144 of the 2017 Constitution. This section, critically, prohibits cutting budget allocations earmarked for legal obligations, specifically debt payments. The entire scheme hinges on shifting money already promised to creditors.
The accusation is stark: prioritizing a popular program over pre-existing financial obligations. Charnchai Issarasenarak, a former Democrat Party MP, put it bluntly: Section 144 was designed to prevent the misuse of state funds by cabinets prone to “approve budgets that implemented populist policies.” It underscores the perpetual conflict: how do elected officials balance constituent needs and campaign promises with responsible governance?
Section 144 was introduced to protect financial discipline and prevent the misuse of state funds by the cabinet, which had a tendency to approve budgets that implemented populist policies.
Here’s where the story transcends Thailand, becoming a parable relevant to democracies everywhere. Populist policies tend to flourish not just in democracies, but specifically in unequal democracies, where a vast gap exists between the economic security of the elite and the precarity faced by much of the population. Thailand’s economy, like many others, has faced challenges. The temptation to “do something,” to be seen as proactively addressing those challenges, is immense. This isn’t uniquely Thai; we’ve seen variations in countries across the globe, particularly in response to economic shocks. Think of Argentina repeatedly flirting with default, or Italy’s chronic struggles with debt. These are not just fiscal failures, but failures of political systems to resist the siren song of easy promises.
But the consequences can be long-lasting. Reallocating funds meant for debt repayment can damage a country’s credit rating, making future borrowing more expensive. This isn’t just a legal issue; it’s a fiscal one, impacting Thailand’s ability to invest in education, infrastructure, and healthcare. Each government wrestles with the siren song of short-term political gains and the heavy chains of long-term financial stability. And the deeper the pre-existing inequality, the more irresistible that siren song becomes.
Jaran Pakditanakul, a former judge, highlighted that previous charters lacked enforcement mechanisms, which is the rub. While intentions might be laudable, democracies require safeguards, firewalls, and enforceable checks. What matters is not just what politicians intend to do, but the guardrails erected to manage the possible harm. This speaks to the broader principle that intention rarely equates to impact.
We can frame this through the lens of scholars like Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson, who argue in Why Nations Fail that inclusive economic and political institutions are essential for long-term prosperity. A key attribute of inclusive institutions is commitment devices, where a state credibly commits not to abuse its power and expropriate its citizens or debt holders. Violating the loan agreement, even with the purpose of stimulating the economy, can be interpreted as a form of expropriation and a sign of exclusive or extractive institutions. The digital wallet scheme isn’t just about money; it’s about the signal it sends to domestic and international actors about the commitment of Thai political elites to the rule of law and its commitment to the market. Think of it as a trust tax: a short-term gain paid for with a long-term erosion of investor confidence.
The question facing Thailand — and indeed, any nation grappling with economic pressures and political promises — isn’t simply about whether a specific policy is popular, but whether it is sustainable and, more fundamentally, whether it undermines the foundations of good governance. Because in the long run, nothing is as popular as a government that can be trusted to manage its finances responsibly. And even more fundamentally, nothing destabilizes a society like the perception that the rules apply to everyone except those in power.
