The Thai monarchy occupies both sides of the same coin
The article "Psychology of absolute monarchy lingers" in The Nation earlier this month is self explanatory in its title.
However, it only reflects one side of the coin. Even on this face, however, there are other layers of meanings which should be recognised, the most poignant of which is that, in the Thai mind, monarchy is religion. And it is not just any religion, since it has proved to be more fervent than Buddhism itself. Central to this credo is the Devaraj concept in which the king is the incarnation of all the principal Hindu godheads. Personally, I subscribe to it in the sense that Court ceremonies should remain intact and not tampered with or plagiarised, and that the person of the king must remain sacred.
On the same side of the coin and in parallel to this is the king on the human plane. Here, he assumes the role of a Dhammaraja, a ruler imbued with Dhamma or righteousness in the universal sense. It follows that the Dhammaraja rules on merit, without which the throne can be forfeited, as in the case of a number of Ayudhya kings.
The concept of Dhammaraja however, is held steadfast in the Bangkok Period, as evidenced by His Majesty the King’s proclamation at his coronation, “We shall reign with Dhamma for the good and happiness of the greater Siamese people.”
Lecturers at Thammasat University who advocate that the head of state should be sworn in under some fleeting constitution have possibly missed the point. In this regard, I think it would be to the university’s advantage if it adopts history as a compulsory subject in conjunction with other requirements for degrees, for both students and teachers alike.
The other side of the coin concerns His Majesty the King in a globalised world. Here, His Majesty has shown the way into the modern world with cultural, engineering and scientific programmes, together with an untold number of down-to-earth projects. When I telephoned Dr Sumet Tantivejkul of the Chai Patthana Foundation, asking him to fax me a list of the royal projects for the purpose of writing an article, the reply was that the printout would be about fifty metres long. I eventually wrote the article, “The working monarch”, in The Nation in 2006, highlighting the King’s grassroot projects and inventions, some of which have since been patented and used in this country as well as abroad.
Of more than 3,000 royal projects, the most outstanding one must surely be opium eradication through crop substitution, which then led to agro-industry, exports and other innovations previously unimaginable. The article predictably came under negative scrutiny, with foreign experts pointing out some intricacies.
Interestingly, many of the royal projects reflect the self sufficiency economy theory, which is based on the Buddhist Middle Way. In being critical of the projects, the royal detractors actually attacked, not only the King, but also Buddhism – not that the latter will respond. But all of this is nothing new. It is to do with the perception of the freedom of expression in the West.
A slight digression here on the theme of the freedom of expression: I remember some years ago, Andres Serrano, a European American painter, had an exhibition at the National Gallery in Auckland, New Zealand. The principal canvas depicting Jesus on the cross was entitled “Pissed Christ”, and on this the artist actually urinated. At that point the Christian world kept silent, presumably with respect to the freedom of expression, but the Saudi ambassador to New Zealand protested, Jesus being revered in Islam. I don’t know where all this is leading to except that sooner rather than later we will have to shift our moral paradigm – this time, I am afraid, to where money is presently gravitating. With the demise of the British East India Company and the decline of its modern equivalent, this would be Shanghai and not London or New York.
My worry about the ongoing polarisation in this country is tinged with a sort of personal historical deja vu. I am reminded of ror sor 103, or the draft Constitution of Siam in 1885, the long postponement of which led to the Young Turks’ attempted coup of ror sor 130, or the failed putsch of 1911, all of which led to the unnecessary coup of 1932 due to the courtiers’ objection to the king signing in the Constitution. In this regard, and in light of the current debate on the lese majeste law, I complained to a senior collegue why people do not listen to the King. His dire reply was that people don’t even listen to the Lord Buddha!
The world is, of course, a better place in the spirit of vive la difference than with intolerance and blood-letting. But I fear that the current extremism in Thai society will not go away as long as the two sides of the coin in the Thai monarchy, or the celestial and the earth-bound roles of kingship, are mixed up. While the former should remain at the core of Thai culture, the latter must be to lead the country into the modern and liberal world after the King’s own example. I believe we should not be more royalist than the King and that the two sides of the coin can co-exist.
Dr Sumet Jumsai is a historian and architect.
