Ken | Mathis Lohatepanont

The latest upheavals in Thai politics might look like a victory for Thaksin Shinawatra, but they place him in a straightjacket and at the mercy of conservative forces, writes Mathis Lohatepanont.

Stability has never been a quality one would use to describe Thailand, but even by the standards of Thai politics two weeks in August proved unusually dramatic. Two court rulings gutted both the government, by removing Prime Minister Srettha Thavisin from office, and the opposition, by dissolving the Move Forward Party.

Click here to read the full piece at Asialink Insights.

“When we see men of a contrary character,” Confucius once wrote, “we should turn inwards and examine ourselves.” In the wake of the Constitutional Court ruling that former prime minister Srettha Thavisin committed an ethics violation and should be removed from office, it appears that advice along the lines of Confucius’ is being taken to heart by entire political parties in Thailand.

The Srettha case is without modern precedent in Thai politics. According to Section 160 of the 2017 Constitution, a cabinet minister must “be of evident integrity” and “not have behavior which is a serious violation of or failure to comply with ethical standards.” These are new requirements. The previous 2007 Constitution, for example, had listed a variety of necessary qualifications, but nothing so broad as this.

Click here to read the full piece at Thai Enquirer.

Something that’s puzzling to essentially everyone in Thai politics right now is how and why exactly Paetongtarn Shinawatra became prime minister. And I don’t mean the obvious (“she’s Thaksin’s daughter, duh”), but more the specific process that happened.

Part of why all of this seems so mysterious, I think, is because the number of people in Thailand who can credibly claim to know exactly what is happening next is very small. Based on what I’ve heard, the ruling that removed Srettha Thavisin was itself a surprise to even political insiders. (Phumtham Wechayachai, who became the acting prime minister on Srettha’s removal, was in Kazakhstan on that day: hardly the most obvious place for someone who knew he was about to assume executive authority!)

And so what I have to offer, as I’m still trying to work out exactly what happened, is three competing hypotheses on how Paetongtarn became the final nominee for prime minister.

1. Theory 1: Consolidation. Thaksin intended all along for Paetongtarn to be prime minister, in order to consolidate the Shinawatras’ control of government

The first hypothesis is straightforward: this was all part of the plan. Many have long suspected that Srettha was simply a seat-warmer who would hold the fort until Paetongtarn was ready to become prime minister. Some, indeed, were surprised that he was even given the position to begin with, given the long-documented inclination for Pheu Thai to trust only family members. (Before Paetongtarn, the previous two Thaksinite prime ministers were his brother-in-law and his sister.) Meanwhile, there was never any consideration of allowing a non-Pheu Thai prime minister to take the position.

Some have even gone as far as to speculate that Srettha’s removal had been engineered by his erstwhile allies, the appointment of the tainted Pichit Chuenban a poison pill meant to accelerate the end of his tenure. I don’t buy this argument, however: I think there are far easier and less messy ways for Pheu Thai to have asked Srettha to step down if they had wanted him to. (He doesn’t have a strong base of support amongst MPs, given that he had very limited experience in politics).

So let’s assume that the Srettha removal did come as a surprise. According to this theory, Paetongtarn was the intended pick of choice all along once the removal happened. The earliest reports that a meeting of coalition leaders at Thaksin’s Baan Chan Song La residence resulted in an agreement to nominate former justice minister Chaikasem Nitisiri, in this view, would simply have been a smokescreen. NationWeekend, for example, speculates that party leaders may have felt an immediate decision to nominate Paetongtarn would have made Srettha’s removal look like an orchestrated plot, and so Chaikasem’s name was initially floated.

While plausible, this theory does have some holes. What to make of all the reports previously, then, that the Shinawatras have long been resistant to Paetongtarn becoming prime minister because of the potential legal dangers inherent to the position? If anything, this particular political juncture feels more fraught than ever. And if the goal was a consolidation of power, Chaikasem as a longtime ally of the Shinawatras would likely not have been too functionally different, while having the benefit of insulating Paetongtarn from danger.

2. Theory 2: “The political hostage.” Pheu Thai did not originally want Paetongtarn to be prime minister, and was coerced into nominating her.

Another theory is that this was not the result Thaksin or Pheu Thai originally wanted, and Paetongtarn’s substitution was truly a last-minute decision. Yesterday, Thai PBS posed the question: “Is Paetongtarn a prime minister of hope, or a hostage to lock down Thaksin?” This summarizes the gist of the uncertain evidence well.

The logic of the “hostage theory,” if I may call it that, goes like this: Paetongtarn as prime minister is a guarantee of placing Pheu Thai on their best behavior, as they will seek to minimize the legal risks that she will have to face as prime minister. (The Thaksinites have a worrying track record: Samak, Somchai, Yingluck, and Srettha were all removed by the Constitutional Court). So the grand compromise between the conservatives and Thaksin is best served by having Paetongtarn as prime minister: for fear of legal payback, she will not do anything to buck their interests.

While compelling logically, the issue with this hypothesis is that there is scant hard evidence to support it. We do have two clues. Immediately after reports of Paetongtarn’s nomination began circulating, it was rumored that Pheu Thai’s flagship 10,000 baht digital wallet policy may no longer be moving forward. This is potential evidence that Pheu Thai does want to ensure Paetongtarn does not take on risky projects; there has long been legal controversy over how the scheme would be funded. This isn’t necessarily surefire confirmation of the hostage theory, however: regardless of how it happened, this dynamic would be present under a Paetongtarn premiership.

Another argument would be that Chaikasem Nitisiri was turned down not by Pheu Thai members but by coalition leaders, who may have used his past openness to amending Section 112 as a reason to withdraw support. Both Bhumjaithai and the United Thai Nation Party signaled their unyielding stance on Section 112. However, Bhumjaithai leader Anutin Charnvirakul did eventually clarify that he would be willing to support any Pheu Thai candidate, and it was up to Pheu Thai to clear the air if it did choose Chaikasem. The evidence here, then, is mixed.

One other caveat: I think that we have to be very careful not to treat the “conservatives” as a unitary actor. Often political analysts, myself included, will resort to these shorthands because they make things easy to digest: we have conservatives, progressives, and the Thaksinites as the three main camps of Thai politics. But of course things are more nuanced than that. The conservative camp is particularly fractured. We have the Bhumjaithai Party, which has long been more amenable to Pheu Thai and Thaksin than the other conservative groups. We have Prawit Wongsuwan and his “forest house” camp. They were the ones who appear to have initiated this case against Srettha. How capable they are of coordinating in order to get a presumed preferred end-result, such as obtaining a “political hostage,” is not at all clear.

3. Theory 3: Process of elimination. There was simply no other choice, as no one else who wants the premiership right now is broadly acceptable

Finally, this last theory is also simple: the Srettha removal was unexpected, and there had not been sufficient agreement on who would become prime minister, leading to a messy process in the aftermath where Paetongtarn emerged as the only acceptable option to all.

Anutin and Thaksin were known to have went golfing before the Constitutional Court ruling, although the details of what they discussed is unknown. Rumors were immediately stirred of Anutin being prepared as a “backup prime minister.” Yet after Srettha’s removal, Anutin was very public in his disavowal of prime ministerial ambitions at this current moment. In Thai there is a phrase that when things happen by luck, it is like an orange has fallen on you; Anutin said becoming prime minister right now would be more like a durian falling on you.

He has a point. Except for having his name placed in the list of prime ministers, Anutin gathers few advantages from becoming prime minister now. He has too few MPs to operate effectively as the head of government; he would be in office but not in power. Blame for the anemic economy would be placed on him rather than on Pheu Thai. His party is widely seen as strong — becoming an incumbent now would only weaken it. Meanwhile, the one candidate believed to desire the premiership, Prawit Wongsuwan, has seen his relationship with Thaksin deteriorate so much that it was inconceivable that Pheu Thai would have allowed Palang Pracharath to lead the coalition.

If we believe that Thaksin was truly amenable to having a non-Pheu Thai candidate become prime minister, he could perhaps have held talks with Anutin, who was unwilling to become prime minister now. Lacking another viable non-Pheu Thai choice — Pirapan Salirathvibagha from the United Thai Nation Party commands too few MPs — Thaksin was forced to turn to Chaikasem. Or, he might simply have never trusted any non-Pheu Thai candidate from the beginning. (Let’s remember that Newin Chidchob, the powerbroker behind Bhumjaithai, famously told Thaksin “it’s over boss” when he defected and helped the Democrats form a government in 2008).

Chaikasem had been little-discussed in previous PM speculation on the basis that he was thought to be in ill health. Pheu Thai tried to dismiss this claim, with Phumtham immediately noting after Srettha’s removal that Chaikasem has been doing better. Chaikasem himself said the day after that he was ready to be prime minister. And nominating Chaikasem, if he is in good health, would have had a political logic of his own. He would have kept the premiership within Pheu Thai, and Thaksin does not have to take a risk with a non-Pheu Thai candidate. But Chaikasem potentially did face resistance from Pheu Thai itself. News reports suggested that the party’s MPs did not want him and that a gathering of MPs chose Paetongtarn instead. If we thought Srettha lacked electoral appeal, Chaikasem takes that problem and compounds it even further: very few people outside of political junkies probably even know who he is. Questions about Chaikasem’s past record as a justice official may also have played a role, as Pheu Thai may have wanted to minimize the risk of another ethics case being brought forward.

In short, in this theory, after being turned down by Anutin and weighing Chaikasem’s pros and cons, the coalition may have eventually arrived at Paetongtarn through a process of elimination. We are assuming here, of course, that Thaksin is a more democratic leader than one might be inclined to think given his track record, and that he listened to the Pheu Thai membership’s concerns about Chaikasem. That is a potential weakness in this theory: nothing about Thaksin suggests he is that kind of leader. But who knows? Perhaps there were other concerns about Chaikasem that truly made a government led by him unviable, and in the end, the pressure to ensure the premiership did not go to a (most likely unwilling) Anutin or even to Prawit forced Thaksin’s hand.

At this point, I don’t know if we will ever get confirmation of the inside details on how exactly this played out. And this is a major disadvantage that all of us as watchers of Thai politics are currently being faced with: we do not yet have a clear understanding of the genesis of the Paetongtarn government.

In a landmark case, the Constitutional Court has ruled by a 5-4 vote that Srettha Thavisin is to be removed as prime minister due to breaching ethical guidelines in appointing a minister. In a cabinet reshuffle, Srettha had appointed Pichit Chuenban, who previously served a prison sentence for attempting to bribe a court, as minister attached to the Prime Minister’s office. The case had been brought forward by a group of senators widely reported to be aligned with former deputy prime minister and current leader of the Palang Pracharath Party Prawit Wongsuwan.

Srettha had served as prime minister for less than a year, after a Pheu Thai government was forged out of a grand compromise with the conservative parties in the aftermath of the 2023 general election. A property tycoon and political novice, Srettha’s premiership was marked by a flurry of attempts to uplift international investment and tourism, but major initiatives such as a 10,000 baht giveaway failed to take off. Both the future of that policy, and that of Srettha’s long-term “Ignite Thailand” vision, will now be in limbo. 

At only 358 days, Srettha’s premiership is one of the shortest in recent history. Since 2001, only Samak Sundaravej and Somchai Wongsawat, two former prime ministers also aligned with Thaksin Shinawatra and also removed by the Constitutional Court, have been prime minister for shorter. After Thaksin, who won re-election in 2005 and was then removed by a military coup in 2006, not a single Thaksinite prime minister has served a full term in office.

Click here to read the full piece at Thai Enquirer.

I wanted to write up some thoughts here on what I think about whether or not Prime Minister Srettha Thavisin could see his premiership come to a premature end on Wednesday. The Constitutional Court is due to rule on the petition submitted by a group of (now former) senators which alleged that the prime minister had appointed Pichit Chuenban to the role of minister attached to the PM’s Office despite knowing that he did not meet the legal requirements. (To catch up on what this case is all about, here is a succinct summary).

Why does the outcome here feel so uncertain?

The Constitutional Court’s ruling last week on the fate of the Move Forward Party was momentous, but felt like an inevitability given that the same court had ruled back in January that the party sought to overthrow the political system. By contrast, the court has sent signals that feel much more mixed with Srettha’s case. The court voted by 6 to 3 to accept the senators’ petition, and then by 5 to 4 not to suspend Srettha while the court was deliberating on the case. (Previously, former prime minister Prayut Chan-o-cha had been suspended in 2022 while the court considered the issue of his term limits). The lack of unanimity by which the Constitutional Court has approached these questions, while separate from the issue of whether Srettha had breached ethical standards, makes it much more difficult for us to take the pulse of the court on this matter.

On purely the legal merits, Srettha’s defense rests on arcane legal technicalities. Prime ministers have been ousted for less; Samak Sundaravej, a Thaksinite prime minister in the mid-2000s, was removed from office for hosting a cooking show, while Yingluck Shinawatra was removed in 2014 for improperly transferring an official. But I could also easily imagine an outcome where the court argues that the loopholes presented by Srettha’s legal team is sufficient to prevent a guilty verdict.

The strictly judicial processes aside, the tea leaves on the wider political landscape surrounding this matter feel decidedly mixed. The ex-senators that had initiated this case were aligned with former deputy prime minister Prawit Wongsuwan, the leader of the Palang Pracharath Party who was one of the most powerful triumvirs in the previous government. Prawit’s brother is still one of the deputy prime ministers, but Prawit’s personal influence appears to have been sharply diminished since Pheu Thai took power. The Senate which he held so much sway over has slipped outside his orbit, and the MPs in his party are reported to be more closely aligned with secretary-general Thammanat Promphao. But given that he reportedly still harbors prime ministerial ambitions, ousting Srettha might be his last, best chance at securing the premiership for himself.

Yet it doesn’t appear that other conservative figures are on the same page with Prawit on this matter. Shortly after Srettha was faced with this court case, the prime minister brought in former deputy prime minister Wissanu Kruea-ngarm to join his legal team. Wissanu is one of Thailand’s most prominent legal minds who has served essentially almost every government of all political shades in various roles dating back to the 1990s. Beyond simply adding indisputable clout to Srettha’s defense, however, some media reports have speculated that he could only have returned after being given the green light by major politicians in the conservative camp. All of this makes it difficult to predict what will happen on Wednesday.

What would happen if Srettha is removed?

This question is more straightforward to answer. Firstly, Srettha’s removal from office would lead to the immediate liquidation of his government, with every minister immediately losing their posts as well. The onus would then fall on the House of Representatives to select a new prime minister.

Some major factors to consider: the Senate no longer has the power to select a prime minister with the lower house. Pita Limjaroenrat, the candidate from the now-defunct Move Forward Party, is no longer eligible for the post as he has been banned from politics for ten years. In addition, I believe that Srettha himself would actually be eligible for re-nomination for the post. Back in 2008, when Samak was removed for hosting his cooking show, he actually made a brief attempt to regain the premiership (the bid collapsed and Somchai Wongsawat was made prime minister instead). So, if Pheu Thai had the will for it, a Srettha removal does not automatically equal a permanent end to his prime ministerial career.

If Pheu Thai for whatever reasons judges that Srettha’s re-nomination would be unwise, that would open a political can of worms. Parliament can only easily select from a bank of candidates submitted at the 2023 general election. Pheu Thai has two other candidates: Thaksin’s daughter Paethongtharn Shinawatra, usually judged as too green, and Chaikasem Nitisiri, reportedly too sickly. Can Pheu Thai let the premiership fall out of its hands, however? The person with the next best claim would be Bhumjaithai’s Anutin Charnvirakul, as he leads the second biggest party in the coalition. Recently, we have seen signs that Anutin and Thaksin are moving closer to each other: Pheu Thai relented on its opposition to Bhumjaithai’s signature marijuana policy, and the pair were amicably golfing in recent weeks. Both Srettha and Anutin deny that the latter is any sort of “backup” PM candidate — but I would take this with a healthy grain of salt.

And what if Srettha isn’t removed?

We’re getting ahead of ourselves, but I would venture one guess: something will be done about Palang Pracharath’s status in the coalition. Thaksin was not subtle when he mentioned that the “people in the forest house” — a reference to Prawit’s forest conservation charity, which serves as his personal headquarters — has been causing trouble. The attempt to terminate Srettha’s premiership is the most prominent of this. There are persistent rumors that Pheu Thai may remove Prawit from the coalition, keeping only the MPs aligned with Thammanat — and to make up the numbers, they may instead invite the Democrat Party into the government. A cabinet reshuffle is widely rumored for later this month or in September: if Srettha survives that long, we will likely see a lot more clarity on the dynamics of the coalition by then.

Before wrapping up, I want to also point out that one of the most confusing things about this case is that it is difficult to read what it means on the state of the “grand compromise” between the Thaksinites and the conservatives. (I have a deep dive into the nature of the grand compromise here). Srettha himself as a figure appears to largely be an expendable figure for Pheu Thai: he is not more personally popular than the party, lacks an independent electoral base, and most importantly is not a Shinawatra. Like Samak, Somchai, and Yingluck before him, Srettha is not the true center of gravity in a Pheu Thai government. So on the chess board of politics, Srettha’s removal isn’t by itself a sign that the grand compromise is falling apart. But given the murky state of our knowledge of the dynamics of the grand compromise between the conservative parties and Pheu Thai, what Srettha and his survival ultimately means is just unclear. Sometimes the best thing an analyst can say when asked about what a political event may mean is: we don’t have enough information to say for sure.

The Move Forward Party, previously the largest party in the current Thai parliament, has now been dissolved. This follows a previous Constitutional Court ruling that the party’s actions in seeking amendment of Section 112 of the Criminal Code constituted an attempt to overthrow the Thai political system. The party’s executive members, including the former prime ministerial candidate Pita Limjaroenrat, has been banned from politics for ten years.

What will happen next? Here are three takeaways from the MFP’s dissolution.

Click here to read the full piece at Thai Enquirer.

For the first time since Thailand officially returned to democratic rule after the 2014 military coup, the country has chosen a new Senate after the previous upper house’s five-year term expired. However, a uniquely complicated process for the selection of new senators and constitutional changes ensures that this Senate will be both less powerful but also less predictable than the previous one.

Click here to read the full piece at 9DashLine.