TIME: Almanac 1995

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<text id=92TT1228> <title> June 01, 1992: Growing Pains </title> <history> TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1992 June 01, 1992 RIO: Coming Together to Save the Earth </history> <article> <source>Time Magazine</source> <hdr> THAILAND, Page 68 Growing Pains </hdr> <body> Why the burgeoning middle class in a prosperous Asian country rose up to insist that a flawed democracy was better than military rule By George J. Church--Reported by Jay Branegan/Bangkok How's this for a sign of political maturity: blood runs in the streets as soldiers repeatedly fire into crowds of protesting citizens intent on forcing government changes. In most countries those events would be interpreted as a sign of catastrophic breakdown. But in Thailand they signal that the country no longer consists of a mass of illiterate peasants who meekly submit to military rule. That may have been true for most of the past six decades, but now a five-year economic boom has created an urban, affluent, well-educated middle class that is demanding a voice in politics, and it cannot be subdued by bullets. The very name given to the demonstrators by the Thai press--mob mua thue, or mobile-phone mob--testifies to the interaction of affluence and politics: democracy activists coordinated their protests by cellular telephone. True enough, the democrats have not yet prevailed. Suchinda Kraprayoon, the general who made himself Prime Minister in April, stepped down Sunday after his coalition withdrew its support. But the generals in the past have proved adept at ruling through civilian figureheads. After 60 years holding the real power in the country, the military is deeply entrenched throughout society; these "businessmen in uniforms" own or control hundreds of enterprises, including two nationwide TV channels, 200 radio stations and their own bank. The army remains popular among peasants, who are still a majority of the population and provide most of the soldiers, and it has proved that it is ready to turn its guns on its own people, if necessary, to hang on to power. There is some fear now of another outright coup to keep the brass in control. The revered King, Bhumibol Adulyadej, has tried to guide the country toward stability, but he has no legal power over political affairs. Belatedly, he did mediate a compromise last week to stop the bloodshed by getting the Suchinda government's promise not to block amendments to the Thai constitution that would trim the soldiers' authority. And he appointed an emissary, former Prime Minister Prem Tinsulanonda, to negotiate with Suchinda an amnesty agreement for those responsible for the crackdown. This apparently eased military objections to Suchinda's ouster. Yet it seems unlikely that Thailand will go back to the political past. The violence in the streets showed just how much the country has changed; until then, Bangkok was the last place anyone would have looked for riots and bloodshed. Since the fall of the absolute monarchy in 1932, the country has experienced 10 successful coups, a number of failed ones and 14 constitutions. But only occasionally did violence occur in the so-called Land of Smiles. An old joke is that when a coup is attempted, usually both sides drive all their tanks into the street and then stop to count. Whoever has the most wins. As recently as February 1991, the country sat still for a bloodless military coup that overthrew a more-than-usually- corrupt elected civilian government. Corruption at least was the stated reason for the coup; the real motivation was that the army feared that this government, unlike most nominally headed by civilians, would actually try to shake loose from the soldiers' behind-the-scenes control. Throughout the 1980s, Thai society changed rapidly. A boom spurred largely by Japanese and Western investment in chemicals, textiles, consumer electronics and other industries gave the country one of the highest economic growth rates in the world, averaging around 11% from 1987 through 1990 and slowing only to 7.5% in 1991. Thailand, a nation of more than 55 million people, is the world's largest rice exporter, a leading producer of seafood and one of Asia's top tourist destinations. Living and educational standards have expanded enormously: in 1965 only about 16,000 Thais were attending college; today the number is perhaps 300,000. Bangkok has matured into an overcrowded (pop. 8 million), traffic-choked city boasting chic restaurants, satellite and cable TV, fax machines and all the other appurtenances of a thoroughly modern metropolis. Several sparks finally ignited this mixture. As the civil war in neighboring Cambodia simmered down, the threat to Thailand from communist Vietnam, which long occupied Cambodia, also diminished. The army's aura as protector of the nation dimmed accordingly; Suchinda provoked only sardonic laughter last week by declaring that soldiers had fired into crowds in order to stop a threatened takeover by communist agitators. Despite their lessening prestige, however, the generals behaved in especially ham-handed fashion, flouting earlier pledges to restore democracy by ramming through a constitution that virtually institutionalized military control of the government--and then having their parliamentary coalition name Suchinda Prime Minister, despite a clear popular preference for an elected civilian in the job. Equally important, antimilitary forces found an inspirational leader in Chamlong Srimuang, a former general who quit the army in 1986 to run for governor of Bangkok. A Buddhist ascetic, he was re-elected in 1990 and ran a notably clean and democratic administration. He put together a civilian coalition that scored heavily in parliamentary elections in March. In recent weeks Chamlong has attracted an unusually broad spectrum of society--students, workers, businessmen, even bureaucrats--to participate in mass demonstrations, though he proved regrettably unable to prevent some from turning to rock-throwing violence. Gothom Arya, vice chairman of the Campaign for Popular Democracy, an academics' group, asserts that "everybody rallied behind the students: the political parties, the NGOS [influential nongovernmental welfare organizations] and the middle class. This represented something very new in Thai politics. The middle class is more powerful than ever before." It is not yet all-powerful, however. Many Thais agree with Sukhumbhand Paribatra, a political-military expert at Chulalongkorn University, that "what we are witnessing is the military's last hurrah. The last few days' violence was its dying gasp." But he adds that he "can't say when, how or at what cost" a civilian-led democracy will prevail. In fact, the death watch on military rule, if it really is that, may well drag on through weeks, months or even years of tension, turmoil, renewed demonstrations and possibly even more bloodshed. But the economic boom that has helped loosen the military's grip may also indirectly restrain more attempts by the generals to hang on through violence--they have as much to lose as anyone else. Not the least reason King Bhumibol was able to broker last week's compromise was a growing fear on both sides that continued bloodshed would severely damage the economy by frightening away tourists and foreign investors. It simply is not as easy for the military to maintain control of the affluent and educated Thailand of today as it was in the simpler peasant society that the nation was once, but will never be again. </body> </article> </text>