The military and cabinet reshuffles have all but assured Thaksin’s hold on domestic politics. Now, he has his sights set on grander goals.
By Don Pathan
The Irrawaddy
Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra must have had some sleepless nights leading up to the bureaucratic shakeup. Given the outbreak of public criticism and mudslinging prior to the annual military reshuffle and the nagging from politicians looking to secure seats in the new cabinet lineup, the political pressure would have taken its toll on the PM.
But with his overwhelming public mandate, a secure Parliamentary majority, and the hype surrounding his populist policies, there could be nothing left to stop the PM and his trusted lieutenants from selecting "the right man for the right job". Unscathed from his previous political imbroglios, Thaksin has learned that he has what it takes to squeak by and still come out on top.
Although Thaksin maintains that he did his best regarding the new cabinet lineup and denies any interference with the annual military reshuffle, his power nevertheless seems more consolidated than ever before. And now that his relatives and close allies have assumed key military and government positions, everything should be smooth sailing from here on out—or so he hopes.
For the past 20 months, Thaksin’s camp has swooped in on various government offices, removing and transferring a number of top posts in the Bank of Thailand, the Stock Exchange of Thailand and other state-owned enterprises like Krung Thai Bank. Moving in on the military’s turf, however, is a different story altogether. The men in uniform traditionally see themselves in a different light than other bureaucrats—as the defenders of national sovereignty. So when a here today, gone tomorrow politician comes barking orders, the top brass understandably takes offense.
Unlike the previous administration, Thaksin and his men do not consider themselves fly-by-night officeholders. Judging from their track record over the previous 20 months, they are here to stay, and the military will have to get used to it—like it or not. After all, this is an administration elected to office with an unprecedented public mandate. In August, more than two months before the military reshuffle, Thaksin took the previously unimaginable step into a domain where past premiers had dared not stray too far. He handpicked the new army commander-in-chief, Somdhat Attanand, with the understanding that Somdhat would work with the outgoing Gen Surayud Chulanont to assemble the new military lineup. Initially, it seemed like a good idea on the surface. But in reality, it became a "big mess", to use the words of former Defense Minister Chavalit Yongchaiyudh.
As defense minister, Chavalit is entitled to his say in allocating military positions. But the deputy premier also knows that the political tides are turning against him. The challenge was to draw up a list that all sides would find satisfactory. But considering the high level of political interference and the number of hands in the cookie jar, it would have been impossible not to create any bitterness.
The military posed the final barrier in this administration’s quest to consolidate its grip on the bureaucracy. The stakes were too high to leave the reshuffle in the hands of Gen Surayud, a man who has never seen eye-to-eye with the premier about Burma. Historically, politicians and the top brass have had to walk a fine line during reshuffles and bureaucratic appointments. The rule of thumb was that politicians were not supposed to do anything that would alienate the armed forces with their selections. On the other hand, military leaders were expected to stand firm while simultaneously presenting themselves as reasonable sorts who could negotiate and compromise with political leaders. This time around, however, the military has accepted the fact that civilian politicians, with the people’s indisputable mandate behind them, are now their superiors. For the men in uniform, this is a bitter pill to swallow.
The decision to kick the widely respected Gen Surayud upstairs to the ceremonial post of armed forces supreme commander has raised a number of eyebrows. Another "promotion", genuinely a case of career advancement in this instance, is the appointment of the premier’s cousin, Gen Chaisit Shinawatra, to the post of assistant commander of the army. This places him in the top-five of the army hierarchy and makes him a likely candidate for the commander-in-chief post next year when Gen Somdhat, along with Gen Surayud, steps down at the mandatory retirement age of 60. Gen Surayud is seen by many as a professional soldier who helped exorcise the ghosts from the army’s May 1992 killing of unarmed protestors, and who restored public trust in Thailand’s armed forces.
His firm stance against Burma’s military build-up along their shared border, and his swift responses to repeated incursions by pro-Rangoon ethnic armies have earned him, as well as the armed forces, tremendous public support. But now, with Surayud out of the way, and Chavalit slowly fading from view, the spotlight has shifted to Foreign Minister Surakiart Sathirathai, the PM’s trusted aid. The decision to leave Burma in the hands of Surakiart irks Chavalit, who considers himself a "brother" of the junta. He took pride in his unique brand of defense diplomacy and often boasted of how it would save Thai-Burmese relations. In fact, a great deal of his political life has been devoted to Burma and Burma-related issues, so it was no surprise when he could no longer hold back his sarcastic remarks about the government handing Burma over to Surakiart. Criticizing the planned luncheon between the Thai and Burmese cabinets scheduled while the border remained closed, Chavalit quipped, "I accept the fact that we are friends…but that doesn’t mean we have to take orders from them."
Surakiart will have big shoes to fill as he carries out the daunting task of patching things up with the junta, who never falter in keeping one step ahead of the Thais. Too bad for Surakiart. The Thai Foreign Ministry, unlike the armed forces, has never been regarded as a source of comfort for the Thai people. Thus, no matter what spin he puts on things, Surakiart faces an uphill battle trying to convince the public that his dealings with Burma are in the best interest of a people whose opinions are already fixed about the Burmese junta’s moral rectitude.
As the tumult over these hectic rounds of military and Cabinet reshuffles dies down, and the new team settles in to their posts before embarking on a bureaucratic joy ride, the premier will again find some breathing space. Critics and political cartoonists have already had their turn taking jabs at the new lineup. While all the huffing and puffing from those who lost their seats have vented most of their steam. And now that the key people have been placed in their respective positions, political insiders say that Thaksin is turning his attention to bigger and better things. Thaksin, they say, wants to be seen as a regional leader; recognized as an exemplary statesman in the same light as Malaysia’s Mahathir Mohamed and Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew. And with Mahathir stepping down next year and Lee gradually sliding out of the picture as Singapore’s third generation of leaders takes over, Thaksin regards himself as the man to take center stage as leader of the region.
Thaksin and his men have placed much hope and hype on the Asian Cooperation Dialogue (ACD), presenting this forum as the launching pad from which Thaksin could achieve international stardom. But the informal gathering of Asian ministers has been billed merely as an expensive talk-fest lacking in direction, purpose, and political commitment.
For the political commentators, journalists, and other Bangkok-based diplomats covering the event, the ACD became a sad joke. While nobody doubts Thaksin’s determination to become an international statesman, the people in Thaksin’s camp recognize that the reputations of Lee and Mahathir, like Rome, were not built in a day. Regardless of how much energy they spend trying to turn the telecom tycoon into a statesman of stature, Thaksin’s supporters know well that he is ultimately going to have to earn his reputation the old-fashioned way. There are no shortcuts to international stardom. If his handling of crises on an international scale—from the terrorist attacks against the US to the waxing and waning of Thai-Burmese bilateral ties—over the past 20 months is any indication, Thaksin’s quest to be recognized as an exemplary international statesman will not be smooth sailing at all.