Thaksin Shinawatra’s poisoned chalice

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.

The Thai political landscape was turned upside down last when the progressive Move Forward Party (MFP) won a plurality at the 2023 general election, campaigning on reforms to Thailand’s monarchy, military and economy.

Decimated military-linked conservative parties that formed the outgoing government agreed to a grand compromise with their longtime enemy, former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who had lived in self-exile after being removed in a military coup in 2006. Thaksin was allowed to return home, while his Pheu Thai Party formed a coalition with the conservatives that kept the MFP out of power.

At first glance, the outcome of the twin Constitutional Court rulings may have appeared to boost Thaksin’s position. Srettha was found guilty of making an unethical ministerial appointment and removed; he was swiftly replaced by Thaksin’s daughter Paetongtarn Shinawatra, thus cementing his grip over Government House. Some analysts even began wondering whether Thaksin had encouraged Srettha to make the appointment, giving him a “poison pill” so that Srettha would lose his job.

Meanwhile, the dissolution of the MFP, on the grounds that its campaign to amend Thailand’s lese-majeste law was tantamount to seeking to overthrow the political system, liquidated Pheu Thai’s biggest electoral threat.

A deeper analysis reveals, however, that neither development has been to Thaksin’s advantage. Take the latter. Although the MFP’s popular prime ministerial candidate Pita Limjaroenrat was banned from politics for ten years, along with the party’s executive board, the party’s remaining MPs quickly moved to a successor party, named the People’s Party.

The People’s Party’s new leader Nattaphong Rueangpanyawut — a wealthy 37-year-old and self-proclaimed data “geek” — lacks the high profile of Pita. But the People’s Party is unlikely to lose the large lead in opinion polling that the MFP garnered prior to its dissolution. Donations to the new party skyrocketed and over 60,000 people joined the party within a week, which are remarkable feats in a Thai political culture not known for mass party memberships. The People’s Party declared that it aims to win the next election. Meanwhile, Thaksin has given Pheu Thai the goal of winning 200 seats at the next election, below the minimum needed for a parliamentary majority, and according to current opinion polling, unlikely to be attainable.

In addition, the appointment of Paetongtarn as prime minister appears to have been made from a position of weakness, not strength. Far from being a pre-planned act of Shinawatra consolidation, available evidence suggests that Thaksin and Pheu Thai were caught flat-footed by Srettha’s removal. Early discussions with conservative coalition leaders concluded with a decision to nominate Chaikasem Nitisiri, a former justice minister and Thaksin loyalist, for the premiership. But for reasons that remain unclear — some suggest it was because of his ill health, or concerns about his past political stances, particularly on the lese-majeste law — Chaikasem’s nomination was dropped. Meanwhile, Pheu Thai’s most important coalition ally, Bhumjaithai party leader Anutin Charnvirakul, appeared reluctant to take on the role; Thaksin would also have been unlikely to trust Anutin, given how Bhumjaithai once abandoned Thaksin to form a government with a rival party in 2008.

But if Paetongtarn emerged as the result of a process of elimination, then she was not Thaksin’s first choice. It is not difficult to see why: while the Shinawatras had been eager to place her as the fresh young face of Pheu Thai’s 2023 election campaign to win votes from Thaksin’s electoral base, they were likely far less comfortable with having a figure with limited political experience in the premiership, where she would be exposed to legal risk. Of the previous three prime ministers affiliated with Thaksin, including his brother-in-law and sister, all had been removed by the Constitutional Court. It is telling that in her first press conference upon becoming prime minister, Paetongtarn said “no one would want to face the same fate as my father and aunt.”

This puts Thaksin in a straitjacket, however. On the one hand, he is now firmly in the spotlight as the steering hand behind his daughter’s government. But the need to “de-risk” the government to protect his daughter means that his latitude for navigation is firmly limited. Pheu Thai had banked on implementing an election promise to hand out 10,000 baht ($433) in a “digital wallet” to every Thai, on the pretext of stimulating the economy, but also to renew voter goodwill. The scheme had faced several delays due to questions about the legality of its proposed sources of funding. Now Paetongtarn concedes that the scheme may change as Pheu Thai listens to further opinions on the policy.

Thaksin may now instead find himself at the mercy of his conservative allies, having handed over a political hostage. The Bhumjaithai Party, which is the second biggest in the coalition and has sway over the Thai Senate, has not been shy about exacting policy concessions in recent weeks, first forcing Pheu Thai to abandon its plans to re-classify marijuana as a narcotic (Bhumjaithai had championed its legalisation for medical purposes in the past few years), and most recently coming out to oppose the government’s plans to legalise casinos. Now, conservatives have been given another bargaining chip.

Far from placing him in a commanding position, the Constitutional Court’s two rulings has given Thaksin a poisoned chalice: giving him a renewed progressive foe, while limiting his room for maneuver.

Mathis Lohatepanont is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Political Science at the University of Michigan.