It is not unusual to hear laments that Thailand is now somehow ‘different’, with a politics that is more conflicted than in the past. It is sometimes claimed that the Thai ability to compromise is now gone. This position seeks explanations of Thailand’s politics in the deep recesses of something called ‘Thai culture.’ Not only is this a misleading perspective that ignores a long history of political struggle, but it ignores the ideological nature of claims about ‘Thai culture.’

More than anything else, such conservative claims mystify Thailand’s power structures. This perspective conceives Thais as having been essentially apolitical, drawn to Buddhist middle paths, making them compromisers and even fatalistic in political outlook. From this perspective, when politics matters it is handled through a pyramid of patron-client relations that have an apex in the monarchy. The king is said to be the ultimate ‘good man’ who understands and protects his people. Indeed, he can be relied upon as a great figure above politics. It is this ‘Thai culture’ which is believed to be unravelling as political conflict deepens.

In fact, this so-called culture derives from a social and political order that has long been hierarchical and repressive. This order has for decades been opposed in cycles of occasional rebellion and continual and quieter forms of political opposition. Rebellions have arisen intermittently over more than seven decades, from the 1932 overthrow of the absolute monarchy, to the 1973 student-led uprising and the civilian challenge to the military’s 1992 attempt to control Thailand’s political future, to the current red shirt movement. Usually derisively described in the mainstream media as ‘pro-Thaksin’, in fact, the red shirt movement draws on deeply-held feelings that the current social order is unfair.

In a society that official figures show is highly unequal in terms of income, wealth, land ownership and opportunity, the red shirts have increasingly proclaimed Thai society unfair, unequal and unjust. The result is a red shirt movement that is class-based and regionalised and inherently heterogeneous in membership and leadership. Its emotive campaigns challenge established hierarchies that are founded in the very inequality red shirts oppose. This makes for a movement that is detested and feared by an essentially Bangkok-based establishment.

The red shirts are not without divisions and problems. Some long for a return by former Prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, a corrupt politician and deeply flawed leader, but one who came to be seen as having a desire to help the downtrodden. Others are politically naïve and still others continue to build a money-based politics. Despite all of this, the rise of the red shirts represents one of those brief periods of subaltern rebellion that goes beyond forms of everyday resistance that rarely offer fundamental challenges to the established order.

This overt challenge has unsettled the ruling elite. They oppose it through the state’s repressive forces while reasserting their rule as natural and culturally Thai. The ideological affirmation of the right to rule draws on deeply conservative conceptions of order, authority and morals. Significantly, conservative royalism crystallised as a political ideology during a period of harsh and despotic military authoritarianism in the late 1950s.

As a starting point, this conservative royalism is an ideology that rejects Western-style democracy as inappropriate for a Thai society that is considered culturally amenable to strong authority figures who unify the nation while upholding Buddhist-based moral principles. The rural base of society is considered a cultural heartland that reveres and maintains traditional institutions. Real representation is not to be found in ‘Western-style’ liberal ideas about elections and democracy but in a leadership that guarantees ‘democracy’ through patriarchal and hierarchical ‘representation’ and moral correctness, even without elections.

These conservative ideas initially underpinned a military dictatorship but were also the basis for the revival of the royalism that is now the locus of red shirt criticisms of the king’s Privy council and, more circumspectly, of the monarchy itself. Royalist ideas were promoted by several well-known ideologues, including Kukrit Pramoj, who asserted a ‘Thai-style’ of government that brought order, peace, security and progress but was vehemently anti-liberal and anti-democratic. In this system, the role of the king was constructed in terms of benevolent and moral leadership, as a protector of the people. In this form, the monarch is portrayed as a moral check and balance on government. Only leaders who displayed the utmost respect to and loyalty for the king could be ‘good’ for the country.

At the heart of this royalist ideology is a benevolent paternalism that insists that the monarchy is indispensable for the peace, prosperity and stability of the nation and the well-being of the people. At the same time, the elite that runs the country under the king’s unquestionable moral authority and great wisdom is supposedly destined to rule. This axis of moral authority between monarch and political leaders is said to be tempered by Buddhist principles that limit absolute power. It is this system that is said to have held sway in Thailand for some 700 years. In this context, those commentators who pine for a Thailand of yore essentially accept a conservative royalist ideology that is inherently anti-democratic.

Since the 2006 coup, conservative royalism has been reinvigorated and endlessly emphasised. The deluge of royalist propaganda is unrelenting, most especially on television, but in all the recesses of the media and official institutions, including schools.

On many television stations, the portion of the evening news dedicated to the display of public royal activities is now often longer in duration than the national and international news combined. The claims made regarding royal skill, expertise and knowledge have become increasingly fantastic as various royals are showered with honorary doctorates and other awards. Government ministers, judges, senior diplomats and many more must now publicly display their veneration of the monarchy and subservience to the king and other royals.

In terms of politics, the conservative and anti-liberal principles that underpin these royalist ideas were not only a stimulus for the military’s coup in 2006—where the junta claimed Thaksin had not shown the right veneration for the monarchy—but buttress the military’s 2007 Constitution. The changes in the constitution have seen an increase in the power of senior state officials, an emphasis on appointment rather than election and a substantial effort to reinvigorate the capacity of the Ministry of Interior, the military and various security agencies to control the population. Several other junta-era laws have strengthened the military, vastly increasing its budget and providing it with the capacity to intervene in a vast range of social and political affairs.

Conservative royalism has been vigorously policed. Several people have been locked up for long prison terms on the political charge of insulting the monarchy and no one knows exactly how many have been charged with lèse majesté or under provisions of the post-coup computer crimes Act. Cyber police actively work to censor web-based attacks on the monarchy and their work now totals tens of thousands of blocked pages. More importantly, the culture of deference and adulation, combined with a constant dialogue that suggests the monarchy is threatened by evil forces, creates considerable fear and inevitable self-censorship.

The red shirts carefully contest this royalist ideology by directing their attacks at members of the Privy council and at a broader power elite they call amart. This is also why their rhetoric emphasises fairness, equality and justice. The red shirts know that direct political challenges to royalism are complicated by the uncertainties associated with royal succession and the power of a government that owes its position to the military brass and support from senior palace officials.

Even if their rebellion is short lived or defeated, the red shirts will not have contested the power of the establishment in vain. Their campaigns and protests have re-embedded ideas about fairness, equality and justice in the Thai political milieu in a manner that ensures that the ruling elite and, indeed, the monarchy can never again believe that Thailand is exclusively theirs. Even if the establishment prevails, they will always be looking over their shoulders for the next rising of the red shirts or a new rebellion that demands a fairer and more just Thailand.

Kevin Hewison is Director of the Carolina Asia Center and Professor in the Department of Asian Studies, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.