New Mandala readers who have been following Thai Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra’s visit to Canberra will enjoy this brief report (in Thai) on her time in Canberra. It covers a number of events at Parliament House, a wreath-laying ceremony at the Australian War Memorial and a tree-planting at the National Aboretum. If you watch the video closely you get taken on a “who’s who” tour of Australian and Thai “movers and shakers”. Pictured above is ANU Vice Chancellor Professor Ian Young enjoying the lunch mentioned in Andrew Walker’s recent New Mandala post.

Recently I stumbled on some intriguing data about the number of foreigners registered as living in different parts of Myanmar in the years 2001 – 2005.

It tells us, unsurprisingly, that there were thousands of Chinese, registered with the authorities, who were living in the Kachin and Shan States, and in Yangon Division. There were also significant numbers of Indians in Yangon and Ayeyarwady Divisions.

Perhaps most intriguing are the large numbers of “others” registered as living in the Shan State. I assume, although I am happy to be corrected, that these would be mostly Thai (and probably some Lao). By contrast, Rakhine State has no “others”: all of its registered foreigners were Chinese, Indian, Pakistani or Bangladeshi.

I should also point out that Chin State has, by far, the lowest number of registered foreigners living there. There were only 5 in 2005, with only 2 Bangladeshis.

I would anticipate that in the decade ahead these numbers will change radically, and the Myanmar authorities will start presenting data on groups like Thais, Singaporeans, Americans and Brits, alongside the new waves of Chinese, Bangladeshis and all the rest.

Gender equality is not a reality in Malaysia, despite recent government assurances. The treatment of Bersih organising committee co-chairperson Ambiga Sreenevasan confirms this.

April was a terrible month for women in the country.

It saw Prime Minister Najib Razak announce that he would be taking over the portfolio of the Minister for Women, Family and Community Development, following the resignation of its Minister, under pressure for corruption.

Local women’s groups were aghast at the move, noting, in a joint statement, that women’s affairs had “languished at the bottom of the pile” when it had previously been located in the Prime Minister’s Office.

Later that month, Bersih organised a series of rallies, collectively known as Bersih 3.0, calling for clean and fair elections, and the government has used the violent turn of events that day as a platform from which to increase its attacks on Ambiga.

Already, Ambiga’s name could scarcely be mentioned amongst government insiders without some measure of vitriol attached to it.

“Who doesn’t know Ambiga. She’s the one who threatened Islam,” Najib reportedly told a crowd in the run-up to the Bersih 2.0 rally last year.

“Awas! Ambiga wanita Hindu yang berbahaya” (“Warning! Ambiga is a dangerous Hindu woman”) read leaflets distributed by Malay rights group Perkasa.

Less than a fortnight after the Bersih 3.0 rally, Ambiga’s critics began to drive home their points – quite literally. Traders apparently upset about alleged loss of income from Bersih 3.0 held a protest outside Ambiga’s house, by setting up a burger stall and giving away free burgers.

A few days later, a group of army veterans turned up on Ambiga’s doorstep to stage their own protest. The protest included having the ex-servicemen turn their backs on her home, and stretch and shake their buttocks as part of an “exercise”. The group warned they would take further action if Ambiga continued to bring more trouble to Malaysia.

Since then, two more groups have attempted to hold protests outside or near her house, with one even handing over a memorandum detailing why Ambiga should leave the country if she did not apologise to all Malaysians.

Ambiga called the veterans’ protest “crude”, and has referred to the protests on her doorstep as an “invasion of privacy.” Her fellow co-chairperson, former national laureate A Samad Said, meanwhile, has raised the question of why he and none of the other members of the organising committee have been targeted in the way that Ambiga has.

Ambiga is unique amongst the committee members in her role as a member from two marginalised positions. “She is an Indian, a non-Muslim. If Ambiga was me, these threats targeting her would not have happened,” Samad said, highlighting how her ethnicity set her apart in the doorstep protests.

But Ambiga is also a high-profile woman leader, having previously received a string of domestic and international honours and titles, including the International Women of Courage Award from US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in 2009.

Women leaders across the world have spoken of heightened scrutiny and gendered criticisms as they attempt to do their job, as the assumption that men and women belong in the public and private spheres respectively continues to hold stead.

In Malaysia, prospects for women are not looking any brighter. Sexist stereotypes and innuendos thrive in the political realm. Male politicians from the ruling coalition have in the past been allowed to get away with comparing women with toilets, proposing women try to enjoy being raped, and even discussing the menstrual cycle of their female colleagues in parliament.

A flippant remark from Najib’s predecessor Abdullah Ahmad Badawi – to listen to one’s wife “only when it comes to dressing up – not on policy matters” – is illustrative of the attitude of many of the Malaysian political elite to women: that they are best in a support-role, to either her husband or children (or both).

Crucial here is the condition that women must not be outspoken. Rafidah Aziz was well-known for her direct talk, and for many years her position as the Minister of International Trade and Industry was hailed as an achievement for the status of women in Malaysia.

But a dispute in the media with former Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad in 2006 saw Rafidah break down in tears at one press conference. The editorial cartoon Senyum Kambing in local government-owned paper Utusan Malaysia mocked the tears of the woman it had a year before jokingly referred to as an “iron lady”.

Rafidah, once a woman known for her strength, had been revealed to be very much a woman, prone to emotional episodes, after all. She’d been broken, and the patriarchal enforcers were delighted.

The veterans’ exercises performed outside Ambiga’s house was a not-so-subtle way of raising the gender politics at play here. A group of men using sexual imagery to attack a woman is not just bizarre. It is a threat, and a reminder of the dominant hold men have over women in a patriarchal environment.

“A dangerous Hindu woman,” warned the Perkasa flyer, immediately warning everyone that the privileged position of those at the top of the gendered pyramid was being threatened by the outspoken woman Ambiga.

“The fate of women in this country is far better as they no longer have to fight for gender equality (like in certain countries),” Najib was quoted as saying earlier this month.

Meanwhile, young girls in Malaysia are watching what is happening to Ambiga, and trying to decide if being a leader is really something worth striving for.

Dahlia Martin is currently doing her PhD on motherhood and Malay Muslim identity at Flinders University.

Source: http://www.mcot.net/cfcustom/cache_page/englishnews.html

Yesterday, Australia’s Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, provided a warm and welcoming luncheon for Yingluck Shinawatra in the Great Hall of Parliament House. A crowd of several hundred—politicians, diplomats, soldiers, business men and women, academics, students and members of the Australian Thai community—dined on coriander crusted beef tenderloin (with caramelised carrot spears), herb and pistachio crusted salmon (with truffle infused prawns) and plates of petits fours (chocolate dipped mango strips were the highlight!).

Prime Ministers Gillard and Yingluck entered the Great Hall after an evocative indigenous performance by the Wiradjuri Echoes. Seeing the first female Prime Ministers of both Australia and Thailand standing side-by-side on the stage was, for me, a spine tingling moment. As the respective anthems were played, it was impossible not to reflect on their very different political fortunes: one politically ascendant; the other struggling to maintain a tenuous hold on power. Contrary to all the popular stereotypes of Thai politics, and the tumult of recent years, Yingluck’s beaming smile held out the hope of democratic stability, built on a foundation of electoral domination and adroit manoeuvring. Gillard is no less pragmatic in her power play but, despite occasional spasms in the opinion polls , her impressive personal presence is overshadowed by profound electoral weakness and internal party turmoil.  Strangely, Thai politics looks rather more stable than the tumult in Canberra.

After toasts to His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen (Elizabeth, not Sirikit), the speeches were warm, but restrained, affairs speaking of the 60-year history of Australia-Thailand cooperation. Tony Abbott, the leader of Australia’s Opposition, was the most interesting as he mentioned, in passing, the two biggest elephants in the room. His was the only utterance of the “T-word” when he noted that it was Thaksin himself who had signed the Australia-Thailand Free Trade Agreement in 2004. Yingluck’s political future is, of course, bound with that of Thaksin and one can only hope that Australian officials felt sufficiently emboldened to sound her out on plans for Thaksin’s return to Thailand. Abbott also unintentionally summoned up the great uncertainty in Thailand’s political future when he noted that Australia had contributed to the education of the Crown Prince both at the Kings School (in Sydney) and at Duntroon. Education relations between Thailand and Australia are strong, but this may not have been the best illustration.

An interesting footnote was the brief visit of senior opposition figure Andrew Robb to the Prime Ministerial table where he paid his respects to Yingluck. Robb, a famed Liberal Party strategist, provided influential advice to Thaksin in the lead-up to the 2001 election in which he first won power. As Robb writes in his autobiography:

I helped Thaksin plan the creation of the political party called Thai Rak Thai … and then ran a series of campaigning seminars with senior members of the political team that he had already assembled. It was fascinating to immerse myself in the politics of an Asian country … and to have input into developing a philosophical base for this nationwide party.

That’s the sort of advice the besieged Gillard needs right now!

Thant Myint-U is pushing hard for serious attention to the planning challenges facing Yangon. In this Myanmar Times article he makes the point that:

…Yangon is at inflection point. It could easily go the way of other Asian cities – heavily polluted, with terrible traffic congestion, big concrete towers and little or nothing to distinguish it from any other Asian city. Or we could plan properly and protect what we have – not just the Shwedagon [Pagoda] but the sublime views of Shwedagon from all around the city, the lakes and the many green spaces, the old homes and buildings, the historic tree-lined avenues and downtown areas, the university campus and so on and build a modern 21st century city around that. It would make Yangon the most liveable and beautiful city in the region.

A previous analysis of Yangon and its position in Myanmar society is available here.  Thant Myint-U has organised a conference this week looking at Yangon’s future, and the best mechanisms for conserving its architectural and cultural heritage.

The Sultan of Johor set a record when he paid RM520,000 or approximately US$165,600 for a number plate – WWW1. It is unclear how the Sultan has in his possession such large amounts of disposable wealth.

Like many other Malay royals with a penchant for the ostentious, the Sultan’s indulgence at other times are usually forgiven by his loyal subjects.

But Malaysia is experiencing social change in unprecedented ways due to economic and political upheavals. The Malaysian economy has been stagnating for the past decade and the government has been arguing that Malaysians should tighten their belts as the government struggles to introduce new taxes and cuts subsidies.

While mainstream media paints the Malay royals as  adored by their subjects, the reality is likely to be the converse judging by recent developments. Royals are increasingly, albeit inadvertently, caught up in the highly polarised politics of Malay supremacy  – in a discourse about the protection of Malay institutions (the Malay race, Islam, Malay Royalty, Malay language, Malay culture, etc) that is used by the ruling party, the United Malays National Organisation (UMNO).

One of the outcomes of these upheavals has been the growing number of Malays who realise that their welfare and happiness are not a function of protecting Malay institutions. In fact, an increasing number of young and educated Malays are arguing the opposite: that calls to protect Malay institutions are nothing more than a ploy to protect the current ruling elites.

If the state of the monarchy in Thailand is anything to go by, Malaysia’s Malay monarchs, if they are not careful, could be facing the same predicament. As an aside, a cursory scan of the web provides ample evidence of the Johor royal families extensive car collection.

There is a very interesting article here about Captain Surajit Shinawatra who, after graduating from officer cadet training in Australia, subsequently served as a Royal Thai Army helicopter pilot. He was killed in Phrae province during operations against communist fighters in 1973. Two of his cousins went on to become Prime Ministers of Thailand.

The flags are up on Kings Avenue.

Thai Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra is being welcomed to Canberra to mark the 60th anniversary of Australia-Thailand diplomatic relations. Comments from New Mandala readers on this auspicious milestone are very welcome.

For those in the mood for some reading, you may find this April 2012 commentary on Thailand-Australia relations is still relevant. And there will be sure to be plenty of other anecdote and analysis in the days to come.

Update (Monday, 28 May 2012): I was up at Parliament House this morning to commentate on Prime Minister Yingluck’s visit for Sky News. Hearing the Australian military band strike up the Thai national anthem was memorable. It was a beautiful morning for it.

Bangkok went ga-ga this weekend after 50,000 screaming fans filled Rajamangala Stadium in Lady Gaga’s first concert in Thailand. This was the biggest concert held by any international artist in more than a decade.

For a moment Thais forgot the mundane problem of rising living costs and splurged on Gaga’s tickets that went for 1,500, 2,500, 3,500, 4,500, and 7,000 baht ($50-$235). Hey who knows if Lady would ever come back, right? This could be a once in a lifetime event!

Getting ready for the concert is already a feat in itself, given the artist’s over-the-top, highly provocative, and just plain crazy outfits. Several websites dedicated to mimicking Gaga’s fashion popped up in no time, complete with tips on make-up and costume ideas.

Lady Gaga indulged in all that Thailand can offer. As soon as her private jet landed, she tweeted “I just landed in Bangkok baby! Ready for 50,000 screaming Thai monsters. I wanna get lost in a lady market and buy a fake Rolex.” Later that night Lady and her crew showed up, unannounced, at Asia Hotel’s Calypso Cabaret.

Thailand can certainly offer the singer plenty of counterfeit watches, cabaret shows and even Gaga’s own fake CDs.

Celebrities and Thai fans alike showed up in outrageously creative outfits. Even Princess Siriwanwaree Nareerat showed off in her pretty pink feathers.

The Born This Way Ball features expletives, simulated sex acts, and people being gunned down onstage – so it certainly isn’t for the sexually and morally faint of heart.

At one point, Gaga borrowed a Thai chada from a fan and put it on her head, while she herself was (barely) wrapped in leather bikini-like outfit. “I love and respect your country…Bangkok is so beautiful…I feel like crying.” Then she hopped on a Harley and told the fans how much she appreciated Thais for being so open to the “girls” like those in the cabaret shows.

And it went without any major controversy.

Elsewhere in Asia, Gaga faced some opposition ranging from a small protest to threats of violence. Her June 3 show in Jakarta has remained tentatively cancelled because of threats from hard-core Islamists to disrupt it. The Church in the Philippines protested against Gaga’s influence on gay youths. In Korea the government, wary of her provocative performance, bans youth under the age of 18 from attending.

Lady’s message for gay rights or her outrageous outfits didn’t meet the same resistance here in Thailand.

In fact, Gaga’s concert is being used by the authorities as a means to rescue the country’s image abroad.

Suwat Liptapanlop, head of the concert’s committee and Chart Pattana Peua Pandin party chief, revealed the motivations behind the Born This Way Concert: “We discussed at length about how we could salvage our reputation and image abroad given recent political turmoil, economic problems and last year’s devastating flood. We all agreed that Lady Gaga’s concert in Bangkok would do just that.”

Given the success of the concert, perhaps the singer did manage to do just what our politicians can’t….

Gaga – you’re a savior!

Aim Sinpeng is a PhD candidate at the University of British Columbia, Canada

Their number is unknown yet is growing all the time. Most are thrown into cells which can hold up to 60 persons, where there is so little sleeping space some prisoners have to bed-down according to a rota and those on remand are shackled in chains for court appearances. Their crime? They’ve breached Thailand’s draconian 112 law, more commonly known as lese majeste, where any act deemed to insult or defame the monarchy, even made in private to a third party, can result in decades in prison.

Take the case of Amphon Tangnoppakul aka Ah Kong, the 62 year old retired cancer-suffering truck driver from the staunchly working class district of Samut Prakan just outside Bangkok who died in May 2012. His case initially drew worldwide attention after being sentenced to 20 years in prison  for sending four SMS text messages deemed to be in breach of 112 to an assistant of former Thai PM and present leader of the Democrat Party, Abhisit Vejjajiva.

And while Amphon’s case and recent death grabbed the international headlines, plenty more haven’t. There’s journalist and left-wing political activist Somyot Pruksakasemsuk and Surachai Saedan, the leader of the Red Siam radical socialist movement, both of whom are awaiting trial on numerous counts of lese majeste that may result in decades-long prison sentences. Then there are others like computer programmer Tanthawut Taweewarodomkul who is serving a 1 3year sentence for being involved with a Red Shirt website and Nat Sattayapornpisut (recently released) who discussed the monarchy in private emails sent to an activist in Spain and who received 3 years. There are many more lese majeste victims awaiting trial or investigation some for offences such as not standing up for the King’s song in a cinema while others are facing enquiries based purely on unsuitable body language.

Yet, these developments aren’t recent and have been part of a process of ramping up of lese majeste cases that got under way in 2008 and escalated rapidly during the previous Abhisit-led regime. In many cases those targeted with lese majeste laws have been Red Shirt activists and supporters of ousted PM, Thaksin Shinawatra. The claim, according to UK-based freedom of expression advocates, ARTICLE 19, is that the lese majeste law has been used to “target political opponents”. This  “politicisation” of the LM law is something the existing prisoners are fully aware of.

In a series of interviews in a Bangkok prison, several lese majeste prisoners stated that they considered themselves absolutely both “political prisoners” and “prisoners of conscience”. There were complaints that the international human rights organisations such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International were ignoring them and had not taken any noteworthy action – no prisoner I spoke to had had any contact with either group despite several of them being incarcerated for years (at the time of interview this was correct – I understand that HRW may have visited some LM prisoners). However, all said that since the election of the Pheu Thai government in July 2011 conditions had improved. Prior to this the prisoners said they had been subject to beatings and intimidation by guards and other prisoners. “When Abhisit was Prime Minister things were really bad and PAD-supporting guards and prisoners [the PAD are the extreme rightwing, ultra-royalist faction more commonly known as the Yellow Shirts] would attack me,” one said. “Things have certainly improved since the new Pheu Thai government was elected in 2011.”

A statement smuggled out from prison also claimed that during the period when the previous Democrat Party government were in power the lese majeste prisoners had received death threats from members of that government, that medical treatment had been denied to them and that there had been incidences of forced/punishment labour and other widespread abuse. During this period of Democrat Party rule neither Amnesty or HRW conducted any monitoring of prison conditions for lese majeste prisoners and both, as will be revealed later in this article, actually refused on several occasions to properly address the issue of lese majeste. How these conditions and the failure of the international human rights NGOs to monitor these conditions effectively impacted on the health of the recently deceased Ah Kong has yet to be ascertained.

After the Pheu Thai Party won a landslide victory in the July 2011 election, Yingluck Shinawatra, sister to the former Thai PM, Thaksin Shinawatra – who was illegally removed from power in a 2006 military coup – has been installed as Thailand’s first female leader. Since that point Yingluck has had to contend with the worst flooding in living memory and plenty of sabre-rattling by Thailand’s notoriously coup-happy generals. This flexing of military power has been particularly vociferous when the issue of amending the 112 lese majeste law has been mentioned – reforms that were originally mooted when Yingluck first came to power.

“The military have been sending a very clear message via the media and other channels for weeks,” says prominent government party MP and secretary of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, Jarupan Kuldiloke. “If we try to amend 112 they will stage a coup. This puts us in a very difficult position as we cannot create and amend laws in what would be the normal procedure for a democratically elected civilian government. The threats are very real.”

Red Shirt leader, Thida Thavornsate, reiterates Jarupan’s comments. “Pheu Thai are scared of a coup”, she said. “Remember that Thailand is a dual state and that the government doesn’t have control in the normal way. The civil service, the army and the courts are not under democratic control and are unaccountable. There is no effective rule of law and the army make continual threats. Pheu Thai are scared of the power of the army.”

Even a body of legal academics, known as the Nitirat Group, who have put together a package of very mild reforms to the lese majeste laws, have come under continued and threatening attacks from military and extreme rightwing groups. Under difficult circumstances Nitirat are maintaining their reform-led position yet a “pogrom” like atmosphere is developing, with the burning of effigies of senior Nitirat members on the streets of Bangkok and even the previously highly-regarded Thammasat University banning the group from meeting on their premises.

Nonetheless many are also criticising the present government for “back-sliding” on human rights after a number of Pheu Thai government figures said they would widen the crackdown on lese majeste. In addition a recent Human Rights Watch report attacks the government for failing to address the use of lese majeste and for extending this draconian law’s reach.

However, HRW have drawn a huge amount of criticism from prominent human rights activists and others in Thailand for both their lack of commitment to protecting human rights in Thailand and for comments attributed to HRW’s lead Thai-researcher Sunai Phasuk found in the wikileaks US Embassy cables. In these cables Sunai has a number of statements attributed to him that make clear his support for the 2006 military coup that removed a democratically elected government, that he is a “committed anti-Thaksin activist” and that he believes a significant element of the Red Shirts were “bent on using violence to topple the monarchy”, a claim for which he offers no evidence. Sunai is also cited just after the 2006 coup saying how “close” he is to Thai Army officers and that he “had always held the military in high regard for their sense of honor and dedication to the country.” Given that only two years previously the Thai Army had been video taped  engaging in an appalling massacre in Tak Bai that left 87 dead, this is an astonishing statement for a human rights worker to be making.

On the issue of lese majeste Sunai is reported as saying in another cable that HRW wouldn’t support a Thai trade union activist being harassed with the lese majeste laws as the case was “unattractive” and “that association with the case would damage his ability to work as a human rights defender”. The trade unionist concerned, Jittra Kotchadet, said that she “wasn’t surprised” by HRW’s inaction as they “haven’t really done anything to support people in Thailand.” She also said that “HRW don’t act according to principle and seem to take sides in the political conflict. And for some reason they keep trying to link the Black Shirts to the Red Shirts [the armed element from the April/May 2010 protests that supposedly had links to the Red Shirts. The claims that links existed were recently undermined by a Bangkok Post journalist Wassana Nanuam who counter-claimed that, in fact, the Black Shirts were more likely a rogue element in the Thai Army]. Where is their evidence that they are connected? Not even the Thai state could produce any and no one has yet been arrested from this “element”. So why do HRW keep repeating this story?”

Prominent and highly respected Thai human rights activist, Kwanravee Wangudom, who spoke last year at the House of Lords about the deaths of unarmed protesters during the Abhisit regime’s brutal suppression of the Red Shirts in 2010, went further and questioned the factual basis for HRW’s lese majeste “backsliding” claims. Kwanravee said that the figures HRW have been using for their claim that lese majeste cases have increased under the present government are baseless. “The National Human Rights Commission [cited by HRW] doesn’t have any concrete information of the number of people charged with lese majeste,” she said. “By using these figures HRW are not presenting any verifiable evidence.” Internationally recognized lese majeste expert Dr. David Streckfuss agrees with Kwanravee’s assessment. “Most of the cases we have heard about in the last few months were initiated during the last [Abhisit] government,” he said. “I would doubt that the number of cases has risen under the new [Pheu Thai] government.”

Criticisms of the international NGOs lack of action on lese majeste and human rights abuses in Thailand, don’t end there. Amnesty International’s lead researcher, Ben Zawacki, has been repeatedly questioned regarding to comments he once made that appeared to defend the use of the lese majeste law. He was also queried for seemingly colluding with Abhisit-era Thai government officials when designating the Prisoner of Conscience status of one Thailand’s most infamous lese majeste prisoners, Da Torpedo. Furthermore, at the end of 2011 Zawacki told Bangkok-based reporter, Marwaan Macan-Markar,  that “Amnesty is unfortunately not able to assign a number of political prisoners in Thailand since the 2006 coup.” Zawacki went on to say that “AI has “no plans” for a report to expose the number of people jailed in Thailand for LM.” And this line that Thailand’s political prisoners are hard to quantify or don’t exist at all has been parroted by the US State Department’s report on human rights in Thailand which states, point blank, “There were no reports of political prisoners or detainees.”

One of Thailand’s leading academics and thinkers, Dr. Thongchai Winichakul, a former student radical who was present at the infamous Thammasat Massacre in 1976, has recently made very strong statements on the entire Thai human rights community’s failings on lese majeste and other issues in interviews he gave to me here and here.

In these interviews Thongchai questioned not only the ethics of both Amnesty and HRW but also pointed directly to both NGOs being politicized.

“For the first five year from 2005 onwards both AI and HRW were inactive, silent, and implicitly against the effort to fight this unjust law [lese majeste] and also to help victims of this law. The bottom-line was, in my opinion, that HRW and AI received most of their information from, and followed the views of, a group of local Thai human rights people who are dominated by anti-Thaksin activists. This group are very biased and lack the usual professionalism necessary to uphold human rights principles. They are too politicized and their politics seem to have clouded their views and judgments on human rights issues. Most of them supported the coup and a few senior human rights figures even joined the “tours” organized and financed by the coup regime to explain to the world the necessity of the coup. Their political biases blinded them from seeing the victims of the LM as political prisoners or prisoners of conscience because most of these victims are Thaksin supporters or at least anti-coup regime. Also many of the human rights lawyers became active supporters for the anti-Thaksin, PAD Yellow camp. And even today, these human rights activists and lawyers refuse to provide legal assistance to the poor families of Red Shirts supporters who have been victims of the Abhisit-regimes repressive use of LM laws and who were jailed since the violent crackdown in mid-2010.”

It is set against this entire backdrop that the present Yingluck Shinawatra-led government has recently opened a new political prison to house those incarcerated for crimes related to “politics”. All the lese majeste prisoners interviewed were keen to make it clear that they supported this move by the government and all considered themselves political prisoners. “We want political status,” said one, while nearly all of the prisoners also threatened to stage a hunger strike if they weren’t transferred to the political prison as soon as possible.

“One of the reasons we opened the new political prison was to make sure the security and safety of these prisoners could be maintained,” says Jarupan Koldiloke MP. “I also want to say that we are doing our best to make sure the lese majeste prisoners are moved there quickly. Hopefully this will take place soon.”

Thida Thavornsate also made it clear the Red Shirt leadership consider the lese majeste detainees political. “All the lese majeste prisoners are political prisoners and need to be moved to Laksi [the political prison]. Though I do have to say that there are still some problems with facilities at the new prison but we have to remember that the establishment were completely opposed to it opening at all.”

I was granted unique access to the new political prison and spoke to several of those incarcerated there, none of whom have been charged with lese majeste and all of whom were awaiting trial or appeals. “We are much happier here,” was the resounding message delivered during our interview with them. “We are all Red Shirts,” one said, “and while this government isn’t perfect, we know, unlike the last government, that it comes from a democratic election.” All these prisoners also spoke of prison “politicizing” them and that in the new prison they felt “more together as a group” and less “scared”.

On the failures of HRW and AI the prisoners said that neither organization “has helped us at all.” One said “Why don’t they monitor our cases?” and another  “How can HRW say things are worse under the Yingluck government? Don’t they understand anything that has happened here?”

So where now for Thailand? The reforms that many consider necessary to return Thailand to full democratic normalcy appear to be hampered, under threat of force, by shadowy political forces while those usually relied upon to impart an independent account of what is going on in the country are seemingly politicized and failing to tackle key issues.

Yet, not all Thais are daunted by this. Some are ready for whatever lies ahead. “Let them stage their coup,” says Jittra Kotchadet. “Let the world see what is really going on here.”

Andrew Spooner is a journalist and commentator who blogs here. The research for this article was conducted entirely before the death of Ah Kong.

Credibility and the search for a new developmental model

In comparative politics the word “regime” refers to the formal and informal institutions by which political power is acquired and exercised. In political economy, a regime refers to an enduring combination of “socio-economic alliances, political-economic institutions, and a public-policy profile” (Pempel 1998: 20). In the case of Malaysia, the Barisan Nasional (BN) regime’s durability in the former, political sense has been closely associated with a particular sort political economy, or regime in the second sense. Despite significant changes over the years, Malaysia’s hegemonic-party political system, centered on United Malays National Organisaion’s (UMNO) dominance, has since the early 1970s practiced a form of developmentalism that has shaped Malaysian society in profound ways. As the Pakatan Rakyat (PR) understands, its challenge to the BN’s national political monopoly is inescapably a contest about Malaysia’s economic development model, as well. To what extent, and in what ways, does the prospect of change in Malaysia’s political regime imply a change in the country’s pattern of development?

Contemporary debates make clear the close connection between political contestation and economic policy choices. Indeed, one of the UMNO-led government’s vulnerabilities is a sense, growing in recent years, that the Malaysian development miracle has wavered and, for large segments of the population, inadequately fulfilled its promise of a steadily improving quality of life. The notion of the “middle-income trap”, first popularised in a global context by Geoffrey Garret in 2004, quickly became a frame for discussions of possible policy reform within Malaysia and among foreign observers. Two themes have been prominent in these discussions. One is the issue of the quality of governance as this affects broader economic efficiency and productivity. Second is the mooted necessity of a broad liberalisation of restrictions and regulations to enable greater flexibility and entrepreneurial dynamism. In both areas, the opposition and pro-reform civil society organisations have made telling critiques of the incumbent leadership. For its part, Najib Razak’s administration has launched a series of reform initiatives under the New Economic Model (NEM) that speak to the same concerns about governance and the structural challenges to Malaysia’s continued economic development. This dimension of the new competitiveness in Malaysia’s politics adds programmatic substance to a political tableau in which mass protest, scandal, and cultural controversies have comprised much of the drama.

PR has sought to highlight evidence of deterioration in the quality of Malaysian governance. Within that broad rubric, PR officials have pointed to figures on budgetary ‘leakage’, capital outflows, and investor perception surveys as evidence of substantial corruption. For its part, the Najib administration has pledged to implement a Government Transformation Program (GTP) to foster a more responsive, decentralised, and efficient system. A major focus of the liberalisation debate concerns the impact of preferential policies (still widely referred to as the New Economic Policy/NEP) for Malaysia’s Bumiputera majority. A range of academic and policy studies have argued that the NEP has hindered a shift towards knowledge- or innovation-based development by restricting the development and availability of relevant, highly-skilled workforce talent (Henderson & Philips 1997; Woo 2009; World Bank 2011). The PR’s agenda, as laid out in its 2010 Buku Jingga (Orange Book), pledges to replace NEP-style preferences with a set of income-focused welfare policies, noting that their disproportionate representation among the poor means that Malays would be the primary beneficiaries. The government’s Economic Transformation Programme (ETP) makes more qualified pledges to reform the administration of preferential policies, including a parallel emphasis on assisting lower-income Malaysians through a revamped safety net.

Given that both the opposition and government have recognised these issues and advanced proposals for change, the credibility of reformist pledges becomes politically important. The government’s influence over the mainstream media enables it to tout its progress, as when it has highlighted declines in certain crime statistics, or as when the World Bank’s 2012 Ease of Doing Business Report ranked Malaysia’s regulatory environment as significantly improved. The degree to which these claims of change are felt at the grass roots level, or credited by key segments of the electorate, is another matter. Such assurances have been a recurrent theme at the advent of each new UMNO administration (think of Mahathir Mohamed’s pledge upon assuming the Premiership to make government bersih/clean, cekap/efficient, amanah/trustworthy). The PR’s record of economic management in the states that it governs is a potentially significant source of credibility, though state governments’ control over key factors in the cost of living is limited (the Buku Jingga pledges that a PR Federal government would renationalise or heavily regulate privatised utilities.)

One arena in which credibility plays a particularly crucial role concerns Malaysia’s large diaspora, which consists of anywhere from half a million to a million persons, many of whom are educated or highly-skilled. According to the World Bank (2011), the stream of Malaysians going abroad quasi-permanently constitutes a serious “brain drain” for an economy whose chief constraint is the supply of skilled human capital. At the same time, the diaspora is a potential resource for development if it could be tapped by inducing Malaysians to return from abroad, or simply to invest some of their accumulated capital, knowledge, or business connections in their homeland. The ETP acknowledged the problem’s seriousness, and the government established a TalentCorps to cultivate interest among the diaspora in contributing to Malaysia’s development. Senior government ministers have been highly visible in this thrust, making frank comments and pledging basic change. As for the opposition, during a recent visit to Australia, DAP chief Lim Guan Eng argued that the PR government he leads in Penang represents the prospect of a genuine shift in terms of the freedom for upward mobility that reverse migrants might enjoy in within Malaysia. These efforts’ high public profile underscores the political premium that attaches to the credibility of vows to make a break with the established pattern of extensive government influence over professional opportunities in Malaysia’s state-led development model.

If credible claims to liberalise government influence in business and professional life were the sole point of contention, the opposition would seem to have a natural advantage. However, other important concerns shadow public discussion about the reforms needed to escape the middle-income trap and attain developed-economy status. The prospect of growing inequality is one such concern, and a crucial one. Indeed, much evidence from around the world suggests that the shift to a knowledge-based economy tends to exacerbate economic, social, and regional inequalities quite significantly. This reality creates tensions between distributional and growth goals in any growth-oriented economic reform agenda. Thus, the opposition’s focus on corruption and mal-governance as a source of Malaysia’s economic weakness, however much traction it might or might not gain in the face of the government’s own bid to claim reformist credit, can only be a part of a viable platform. Cleaner and more responsive government, and more competitive conditions for big business, especially in infrastructure and public services, are important focal points of debate, and are generally unifying themes for a diverse opposition. Yet, alone they are unlikely to prove sufficient to persuade key elements of the electorate that the opposition has a compelling alternative growth model. Likewise with proposals to revamp the safety net in order to better protect the vulnerable segments of society. As the welfare components of both the government and opposition platforms testify, such promises are important to reassure key potential swing constituencies, those who are more rural and/or economically downscale, that reform will not come at their expense. Even many middle class Malaysians, however, evince mixed sentiments about the prospect of far-reaching liberalisation of the system of subsidies and preferential policies that have girded the Malaysian political economy under BN rule. It is notable that the PR government in Kedah, led by PAS, has stated that its agenda will not be bound by the Buku Jingga, presumably because its perceived liberalism might make it controversial amongst that government’s supporters.

Themes of improved governance and liberalisation of heavy-handed regulation must ultimately be woven into a broader vision of an alternative development regime, one in which initiatives to regain the economy’s upward growth momentum simultaneously generate widely distributed opportunity. Human capital, and the education and training system, are obviously central to such a program (Ritchie 2010). The Buku Jingga proposes liberalising and depoliticising higher education, and pledges to expand access with lower cost. Even more important is the harder, more complex task of reforming primary and secondary education system. Here the Buku Jingga offers aspirational goals related to teacher pay and assessment, yet the complexities and costs of raising the quality of instruction will inevitably be high. In particular, such changes must be carefully related to curriculum reform, to shift from rote learning to encourage creative and independent thinking skills. Making deep reforms quickly will be difficult in a context where primary education has been integral to the socio-cultural identity and dignity of Malaysia’s various communities. In this area, too, the government has also bid to claim a reformist mantle.

In the shorter term, fostering return-migration has been identified, by the government, opposition, and many academic observers, as a key means of addressing the human capital needs of a reinvigorated development push. This also will require careful management in both policy and political terms. At present, the focus is on the challenge of inducing the Malaysian diaspora to return or otherwise contribute to the nation’s economic advance. Should such efforts succeed, however, new questions of fairness and equity among professional ranks are likely to emerge, as Singapore’s experience with popular criticism of its program to recruit “global talent” illustrates. This potential was evident in the opposition’s response to the government’s offer to the skilled Malaysian diaspora of a reduced income tax rate as an incentive for repatriation; DAP chief Lim called for the lower rate to apply to all experts in relevant high-technology fields, including those who have pursued careers at home.

Finally, other types of policy intervention will continue to be important to a politically compelling development agenda. Prominent among these are programs to build workforce skills, enhance investment in pre-commercial but economically relevant research and development, diffuse information technology through infrastructure upgrading, training, and small and medium scale enterprises (SME) extension services, and the fostering of local entrepreneurship in high growth sectors. The government’s efforts in these areas have often been criticised as bureaucratic and disconnected from private business priorities. Yet, rapid regulatory liberalisation, and a much-reduced government role, alone are unlikely to result in an accelerated transition to a knowledge-based economy. South Korea’s rise as a leader in broadband infrastructure and IT-enabled business is a case in point. Notwithstanding the 1990s reforms that sought to limit collusion between government and the big-business chaebol, the new phase of IT-based development involved strong state policy leadership in building infrastructure, investing in human capital, and subsidising technology development and adoption (Lee 2007). In general, then, the rubric for reform in Malaysia will be as much about how to utilise the government’s economic and technology agencies more effectively, and in ways seen as accessible and relevant to the public, as about how to lighten the heavy hand of state intervention.

The challenges facing Malaysia, and any parties seeking to govern it, thus go beyond needs for liberalisation and greater government transparency and efficiency, as crucial as those reform goals might be. Rather, they involve articulating an alternative form of a developmental agenda, one that integrates distributional concerns with the sort of productivity-enhancing measures advocated by those focused on the putative middle-income trap. The challenges involved in formulating and communicating this sort of agenda are not small. Without such a vision and credible claims to be able to implement it, though, laudable reform goals related to transparency and accountability may not be enough to mobilise and retain the support of important segments of the Malaysian electorate. Malaysia’s modern history includes a powerful, ongoing legacy of developmentalism. For all the critiques of the pathologies of excessive government meddling, it’s a mode of politics whose relevance is reinforced by contemporary exigencies of globalisation and technological change, and their impacts on key social constituencies. If the new space for political contestation is to yield regime transition of one kind or another, a key element will be the competition to “do development” better.

Greg Felker is Associate Professor of Politics at Willamette University in Salem, Oregon, USA. He previously served on the faculty of the Hong Kong University of Science & Technology, and has been a visitor at the University of Maryland and Chulalongkorn University. He received his M.P.A. and Ph.D from Princeton University.

References:

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