The Asia Society wants to let you know about an upcoming webcast, Tearing the Land Apart: Islam and Legitimacy in Southern Thailand, featuring the author, Duncan McCargo, Southeast Asian Politics, University of Leeds. This event will take place at the Asia Society headquarters in New York tomorrow, Friday, November 6, 2009 from 1:00-2:00 p.m., ET (New York).

We hope that you will join us online by visiting our website, and following the directions there. The webcast will be available 30 minutes before the program begins. Listeners will also have opportunities to send their questions in to moderator@asiasociety.org, where they will be addressed during the program. Please also feel free to forward the flyer below to your contacts as well. Please let me know if you have any questions. We look forward to your participation!

Duncan McCargo’s recent study, Tearing Apart the Land, sets itself apart from other ‘political studies’ on the troubling Thai ‘deep south’. Based on empirical data, the book brings a breath of fresh air; it at least shows the author has made an attempt go down on the ground, trying to address the turbulent southern crisis from a ‘bottom-up’ and complex perspective. Religion, ethno-nationalism, and ‘national’ policies that delivered more harm than effective results, are all covered. They point towards the main theme of the book – political legitimacy (or the lack of it) — the argument McCargo develops to structure the flow of his chapters.

The book’s Introduction begins with the author’s intent to move beyond existing ‘theories’ of the causes underpinning the destructive militancy in the southern provinces of Narathiwat, Patani, Yala, and parts of Songkhla since 2001. It then draws upon his previous theme, the network monarchy, to capture a recent political struggle in which King Bhumibol’s men and Thaksin Shinnawatra’s Thai Rak Thai (TRT) competed head-to-head to gain legitimacy over the deep South. McCargo observes that the trouble in the South and the policy handling it sank during the Thaksin administration (2001-2006); but he does not gloss over the fact that Thaksin was not the only explanatory cause of the southern turbulence. The ‘Thai structure of power’, which functions itself by a guiding hand of ‘virtuous leadership’, has never been addressed as a democratic issue. This monarchical form of legitimacy, as McCargo argues, seems to be eroding its persuasive power in the South. After Thaksin was ousted in the 19 September 2006 coup, the attempt to bring about changes has largely failed to improve conditions in the South.

The four following chapters titled Islam, Politics, Security, and Militants are a co-ordination of empirical data and McCargo’s line of thought. In the chapter on Islam, the author analyses a development of Patani Islam over the last four decades. He aptly describes a flagging traditionalist Islam, a sect that has, from about the mid 1980s, been perceived by a new generation of modernists, to be Malay-centric. The rift between these two sects is however not as explicit as McCargo suggests. He is not wrong to point out that locals have become disillusioned and isolated from religious leaders who have abandoned their spiritual authority and been fully absorbed into the state’s politicization process. But to suggest that this cause has marginalized traditionalist Muslims, prompting a radicalization within pondok (traditional Islamic) schooling, is debatable. The June Report of International Crisis Group, Recruiting Militants in Southern Thailand (22 June 2009), argues that a majority of young militants are, via ustadtz, recruited from large modern private schools. McCargo, more than the ICG reporters, views the unabated violence in the south as irrelevant to the global jihadist movement. This view is reemphasized in the final chapter, Militants, where he argues that distortions of Islam may have been employed, but ‘Islam is a resource that the militant movement mobilizes for political ends’ (Tearing Apart the Land, p. 180). The militant movement in the Thai Deep South maintains its identification with Melayu-Muslim nationalism; but the nature and objective of the perpetrators have ‘become lost in an angry shared cause’ (p. 181). The militants ‘on the ground are very real, but their organization is much less so’ (ibid.). Simply speaking, there are two arguments which the author generates; one is that the militancy in the Thai Deep South is ethno-centric rather than religious in its characteristic, and another is that it lacks structural planning. Only time can tell whether these readings are correct.

The other two chapters, Politics and Security, in my opinion, make better use of empirical evidence. Politics is engaged with the question of the form of legitimacy in parliamentary politics. The author argues that, similar to what Buddhist-Thai electorate expected from their politicians, the Malay-Muslims in the South upheld morality, righteousness, personal integrity, and endurance to be the qualifying assets when they selected their political representatives. The early 1990s saw a palpable assimilation of Malay-Muslim elites into the Thai national politics. At the height of Thaksin, leading Muslims such as Wan Muhammad nor Matha and the Wadah faction were seduced to TRT’s electoral clout; these politicians eventually lost their credibility among the Muslim voters following the Krue-Se and Tak Bai incidents in 2004. The post 19 September coup saw a return of Prem’s sor or bor tor style of governance. Surayud Chulananont, the then Privy Councilor appointed PM, galvanized this into a rhetoric of “justice”; albeit by the time Thaksin took his exit, the fruit of discontentment had ripened. McCargo suggests that radical Malay-Muslims have opted for violent means, rather than co-operative politics, to voice their agendas to the Thai state.

The chapter on Security dissects the Thai state’s failure in claiming legitimate rule within the border provinces. The ‘south policy’ has completely gone awry because of the lack of strategic and coordinated partnership between various security forces. McCargo is cogent in highlighting specific problems confronting each security force. But although military, police, and intelligence units are assigned with different work tasks, his analysis indicates that these forces operate under similar climates of mistrust and uncertainty. This resulted in a complete breakdown in communication and co-operation. There is a serious question of leadership, applying all the way from the highest office down to the headmen’s village level. The absence of clear objectives, without plans of target and direction means that the unknown militants have had the upper-hand in controlling psychological warfare in the South for quite some time. McCargo completed his book before Abhisit Vejjajiva of the Democrat Party took over the premiership in December 2008. If we accept his themes of ‘legitimacy’ in this book, we should expect no sea-change during the Abhisit administration. PM Abhisit has already begun talking ‘politics over military’ (kan muang nam kan ta-harn); but his face symbolizes a return of the ‘virtuous rule’, which according to McCargo, has lost its appeal, and become as dysfunctional as Thaksin’s failed legitimacy.

What I like most about Tearing Apart the Land — the author writes with clarity. He makes intensive use of a primary data set, rather than clinging to the cited-sources that area specialists as well as the media generally recycle. What I don’t like — the book is full of ideas but does not foot us on a decisive and coherent policy track. McCargo is undoubtedly a serious researcher who stimulates readers to think outside the box. But if I am to spend an evening reading a book of 235 pages, I expect the author to deliver beyond a new framework of thought. It’s good to be able to address new and insightful questions, but one should not waste time writing a book on the violence which has so far ended 3600 lives abruptly if one is not keen to provide, right or wrong, a policy proposal to amerioliate the situation. Tearing Apart the Land does have the sub-title that executed its core argumentation: Islam is de facto the only legitimacy in this troubling land. Why can’t the boundary of this legitimacy be pushed for creative policy-formation?

A verdict: the book deserves to be read by everyone with strong interest in Thailand’s turbulent South. It is a bit dense in a few sections, and you might need some background knowledge of Thai politics before you start reading. For light-foot travelers, don’t bother; Stewart Wavell’s The Naga King’s Daughter (1965) will suffice.

Instead of silence, a series of pointed questions to Prime Minister Abhisit would have indicated a U.S. commitment to an end to impunity and a return to accountability:

1. Will Thailand release the national security detainees and others being arbitrary detained in southern Thailand? Yala, Pattani, and Narathiwat – the southern border provinces of Thailand – were placed under martial law in January 2004, and have been under emergency rule since July 2005.  The central Thai state has offered rising Islamic insurgency as the explanation for the abrogation of rights under martial law, and then the intensification of repression under emergency rule.  Since 2004, thousands of people have been arrested.  Martial law permits detention for seven days before charges need to be brought against someone being held suspected of threatening national security, and the emergency decree adds another thirty days before charges need to be brought.  Detainees do not have access to lawyers during the initial 37-day period of detention.  The International Crisis Group has noted that during the first seven days, detainees are often held in temporary sites of detention and cannot see family members or other visitors, which means that the risk of torture is greatest during this period.  Some of those arrested have been extralegally detained, re-educated, and released without ever passing through a court and others have been charged with crimes of national security under the Criminal Code.  For those who become national security detainees, an additional eighty-four days of detention are possible before they must be charged with a crime.  National security cases move very slowly through the judicial system, with months of detention possible between court hearings.

2. Will Thailand stop the use of the torture and honor its commitments as a ratifier of the UN Convention Against Torture?  Thailand ratified the UN Convention Against Torture on 2 December 2007.  Yet in January 2009, Amnesty International reported that state forces in southern Thailand systematically use torture against civilians. The most notable is the case of Imam Yapa Kaseng, who was arrested as a suspected insurgent in Narathiwat province on 19 March 2008.  Imam Yapa died on 21 March 2008 from wounds inflicted from being tortured while interrogated.  The autopsy ruled that he died from “blunt force trauma.”  The military officers who carried out the torture that killed Imam Yapa have not been held accountable.

3. Will Thailand continue using the lèse majesté law (Article 112 of the Criminal Code) and the Computer Crimes Act of 2007 to censor speech and repress dissent?  Clinton called for the immediate release of imprisoned Burmese Nobel laureate and leader of the National League for Democracy, Aung San Suu Kyi, but left unspoken the names of Suwicha Thakor and others imprisoned or accused of lèse majesté in Thailand. While the lèse majesté law - which prohibits any speech critical of the royal institution and allows any citizen to make a complaint – has been in existence for many years, its use has been stepped up in the last year.  In April 2009, Suwicha Thakor was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for allegedly posting YouTube clips insulting to King Bhumipol, Thailand’s 82-year-old monarch. Chotisak Onsoong, a young activist, has been charged with lèse majesté for not standing up during the royal anthem before a film.  Journalists and web editors have been accused of the crime for their words, or their refusal to censor other’s words.

Or Secretary Clinton and the Obama administration can choose silence.  As Clinton was at pains to mention while in Bangkok last week, the United States and Thailand have had a cordial relationship for over 175 years.  During the Vietnam War, Thailand was the closest ally of the United States, providing soldiers, space for military bases, and the pleasures of R and R.  In the past thirty years, Thailand has remained a major economic and security partner of the United States, most recently providing space for a controversial CIA black site prison. Why jeopardize the relationship by raising thorny issues of human rights and violence?  The answer is simple: because people’s lives are at stake.

Saranukrom watthanatham thai phak tai [The Encyclopedia of Thai Culture: The South]. Bangkok, Thanakhan Thai Phanit Munnithi Saranukrom Watthanatham Thai, 1999. 18 volumes, 8613 pp. In Thai language.

In the National Library of Australia while reading up on religion, banditry, and the environment in Thailand’s mid-south, I stumbled across the Encyclopedia of Thai Culture: The South (ETCS). There are four such encyclopedias, one each for the south, north, northeast, and the central region. Compilation of the ETCS, directed by the veteran scholar Suthiwong Phongphaibun of the Institute of Southern Thai Studies in Songkhla, began in 1981; the first edition came out in 1986. The newer edition with vastly improved production values is nearly double the size of the first, the result of additional information and revision.

At the end of each volume is a list of contributors, including university academics, instructors at the Rajabhat colleges, and district and sub-district school teachers. Local knowledge, drawn from southerners who are thoroughly familiar with their surroundings, is a special feature of the encyclopedia. The Thai Commercial Bank Foundation for the Encyclopedia of Thai Culture sponsored publication; Princess Sirindhorn Adulyadej heads the foundation’s advisory committee.

Encyclopedias do not present new knowledge but consolidate and reproduce existing knowledge. Still, the overall effect can be greater than the sum of the parts. In this case, the effect is to display a regional culture distinct from the rest of the country because of geography and ancient commercial links to India and China, and to the Malay world. Srivijaya, the maritime confederacy of Malay port polities based on Sumatra that once controlled the Straits of Malacca, is considered by Thai art historians to have reached to Suratthani where it influenced Buddhist sculpture and architecture. In the deep south the Patani sultanate belonged to the Malay-Muslim and Austronesian worlds rather than to the Theravada and Sinic-Siamese worlds.

Culture is understood broadly and covers archaeology and natural history as well as more predictable topics such as customs, religion, food, material culture and the visual and performing arts. The ETCS is particularly strong on flora and fauna and the peninsula’s topography. Limestone hills, with cave complexes that gave refuge to bandits as well as monks, dot the landscape. The formidable mountain range along the spine of the mid-south with its steep slopes and plunging ravines is known locally as ‘the mountain of folded clothes’.

Staying close to the research interests that first led me to the ECTS, I offer the following samples of what it contains.

thalesap songkhla, by Thetsako and others, vol. 7, 3057-65, is a network of shallow lakes, varying in depth from 1.5 to 2.5 meters, which stretch a hundred kilometers north from Songkhla. About 7,500 families in Nakhon Si Thammarat, Phatthalung, and Songkhla earn their livelihood directly from the lakes and the surrounding basin. Salinity increases as the lakes drain into the sea at Songkhla harbour, resulting in an immense biodiversity as the flora and fauna have adapted to constantly changing environments. The ETCS devotes 56 pages in stunning colour to the fish species in the lakes. At the northern end the remains of swamp forest (pa phru) are preserved as wetlands for waterfowl. Scientists fear that continuing sedimentation is causing the Songkhla lakes to eutrify, depriving the fish and crustaceans of oxygen.

The lakes and the Satingpra Peninsula share an odd history. In the late nineteenth century it was possible to travel by water unimpeded from Songkhla to Pak Panang in Nakhon Si Thammarat. John Crawfurd’s map of 1828 shows a large island identified as Pulo Tantalem off the east coast. Phattalung town appears not landlocked as today, but as a small port up the estuary of a wide bay that formed part of the Gulf of Siam. Through the years the bay silted up and gradually formed the Songkhla lakes. The Satingpra Peninsula, that ’strange coastal feature’, as one geographer put it, is still known today in the mid-south as Big Island (ko yai), bearing witness to its ancient history as a separate land mass.

nak leng, by Suthiwong Phongphaibun, vol. 4, 3673-75, meaning local toughs who are brave, loyal to friends and supporters, and display a certain Thai machismo, are not unique to the south. In recent years nak leng have received much attention from political scientists studying godfathers (jao phor) and provincial politicians in many parts of Thailand. The term can also refer to the coterie of men who gamble seriously on cock fights, bull fights, kickboxing and cards. The few references in the Three Seals Law Code associate nak leng with gambling dens and, inevitably, with disputes over gambling debts. In ETCS we find a four-part typology, which draws out the hedonistic and hooligan qualities of this social type that became prominent in frontier areas in the second half of the nineteenth century. Suthiwong’s fourth type stresses the magnanimity, dignity, and capacity for building alliances that elevated nak leng to be village and circle headmen where the writ of government was weak.

chon wua, by Wichian na Nakhon, vol. 4, 1870-95, bull fighting, is said to have originated in the south and spread to other parts of the country. The bull fights rotate through the districts on weekends in connection with local festivals, and the nak leng owners and patrons gamble on the outcome. Because of the high stakes and need to maintain public order, the sport has come under heavy government regulation. Before the fights, the bulls receive magic rites (saiyasat) to empower them to win. It’s bull against bull, no matador. The illustrations in ETCS show the bull’s moves to gore and otherwise wear down its opponent. Much of the information on pedigrees and desirable characteristics in the purpose-bred bulls comes from a manual published in 1934 that originated in Nakhon Si Thammarat, one of the hubs of the sport.

krit or keris, by Suthiwong Phongphaibun, vol. 1, 112-39, is a dagger, defined here as a personal weapon found in southern Thailand and throughout the Malay world and Java where it is a symbol of hierarchy and sovereignty. The ETCS illustrates eight types developed by G. C. Woolley in 1947 according to the styles of the hilts. One type is common in Pattani, another in Songkhla (illustration). Imbued with supernatural powers, the keris can fly through the air, leap out of its sheath and attack someone, extinguish fires, and determine auspicious times for travel. After capturing a bandit in Narathiwat in 1938, the much decorated policeman from Nakhon Si Thammarat, Khun Phantharakratchadet (1898-2006), who was something of a nak leng in his early years, received a keris from the sultan of Kelantan. A famous photograph shows Khun Phan posing with a keris thrust in his waistband and a sword across his lap – his regalia, signs of his sway over southern bandits.

khaek, by Chaliaw Ruangdet, vol. 2, 872, meaning visitor, guest, foreigner, stranger, is also an old word found in the pre-modern law code referring to people from India, Persia, Turkey, and the Arabian Peninsula. An etymology from the Ayutthaya period combines khaek and Moor as khaek mua. There is some debate as to whether the meaning of foreigner / visitor entrenches prejudices against Malay Muslims and Muslims more generally.

The main entry is rua khaek, a type of Malay boat that plied the coasts bringing textiles, copper pots, sandalwood oil, and date plums from the Malay ports in exchange for Siamese rice and other goods. During the Ayutthaya-Thonburi period, the boats were commandeered as warships, as were vessels in the possession of all commoners within reach. The omission of khaek as a single word was at first surprising, but then in the ETC: The Central Region (1999), volume 2, pp. 2747-70, I found extensive entries for khaek, excerpts from khaek songs and a list of khaek communities at Ayutthaya such as Chams, Malays and Makassarese from Celebes. Although many people in southern Thailand would be called khaek, the term is not uniquely southern, and so does not receive special attention in ETCS.

To end on a culinary note, sator (parkia speciosa hassk), by Pornsak Phromkeo, vol. 16, 7879-83, is a member of the pea family that grows as a tree up to two meters high and after flowering yields a vegetable in long ribbon-like pods. Another variety grows along the southeastern coast in Chanthaburi, Rayong, and Trat. The pods contain strong tasting beans, which look like lima beans and which southerners put in curries and stir fry dishes to enhance flavor. The beans, which can be pickled, are believed to lower blood sugar and prevent diabetes. Southerners traveling to Bangkok stock up on sator to take to friends and relations hungry for this favourite food.

Although the ETCS attests to its popularity among non-southerners, sator is definitely an acquired taste. Many people find the beans bitter, and their reputation for causing flatulence and smelly urine does not endear them to some folks. In keeping with its somewhat chauvinistic mission, the ETCS does not disclose this information about sator and bodily odors, but it does say that people from other regions refer to southerners as ‘that sator crowd’.

Reviewed by Craig J. Reynolds

Published originally on New Mandala, 8 July 2009

The following information particularly caught my eye:

Insurgents draw on local culture to invoke traditional oaths to discipline their own ranks, though such practices alienate them from the religious purists attached to the global jihad. Ancient charms and spells are applied to protect fighters from harm, coexisting with YouTube videos and propaganda circulated on VCDs.

This isn’t exactly a news-flash but it is always good to be reminded that it is not just in Bangkok that supernatural beliefs influence political action.

Thanks to Michael for pointing out the ICG report.  More substantial analysis from commentators is very welcome.

Imagined land?: the state and southern violence in Thailand (2009) Chaiwat Satha-Anand (editor) (ISBN: 9874863370210).

The National Library of Australia is pleased to announce that we have recently acquired an English translation of this significant volume (original title: แผ่นดินจินตนาการ?: รัฐและการแก้ไขปัญหาความรุนแรงในภาคใต้ ) previously featured here.

[This post is provided by the National Library of Australia as part of our Book Zone feature. For further information on the featured publications contact Saowapha Viravong at sviravong@nla.gov.au]

Rights abuse? You wouldn’t read about it

SMH Illustration: Rocco Fazzari

Harry Nicolaides was herded, shackled, into a Bangkok holding cell on Monday. He was sentenced to three years in prison for the contents of a single paragraph. The Melbourne author’s crime was to write a short passage referring to the private life of Thailand’s crown prince in a self-published novel that sold only 10 copies.He was sentenced under Thailand’s draconian lese-majeste law, which forbids any frank discussion of the royal family. In the wake of the conviction, he threw himself on the mercy of the people he was accused of offending, petitioning the palace for a royal pardon.

On Wednesday, this newspaper reported that the Thai army had – on two separate occasions – pushed about 1000 Burmese boat people back into international waters. The refugees were escaping from the Burmese regime’s persecution of ethnic minorities. More than 500 are now said to be dead or missing.

The Thai military stands accused of detaining the refugees and beating and whipping them, before setting them adrift without motors or sufficient food and water. The Government says it has launched an investigation, while the local army commander denied the accusations, arguing his men gave the refugees provisions and “helped them on their way”.

Thailand’s human rights reputation has taken a battering. These two incidents represent a serious challenge for the new Prime Minister, Abhisit Vejjajiva, who says he is determined to restore his country’s reputation after last year’s political turmoil.

His Government came to power a month ago, after the dramatic occupation of Bangkok’s international airport by protesters determined to overthrow the previous government. The protesters crippled Thailand’s lucrative tourism industry, and shredded its long-cultivated image as a foreigner-friendly destination.

Abhisit presents himself as an urbane and modern leader (and Oxford educated to boot), one who can guide Thailand through the international financial crisis, restore the rule of law, and repair the country’s damaged image.

But the Nicolaides case and the humanitarian tragedy of the Burmese boat people are not isolated incidents that can easily be dealt with by public relations spin. They relate to the role of two of the country’s most powerful institutions – the monarchy and the army – which helped bring Abhisit to power.

The Government has placed protecting the monarchy’s reputation at the top of its political agenda. Heightened political divisions over the past few years have generated increasing comment domestically and internationally about the political role of the royal family. There is unprecedented discussion about the palace’s support for the campaign waged by the People’s Alliance for Democracy against Thailand’s former government, which was democratically elected in December 2007.

The Economist suggested – in a now infamous article – that the Thai king had “lost faith in democracy” by endorsing a series of military coups during his reign and remaining silent throughout last year while the ultra-royalist PAD campaigned to overthrow an elected government.

Forbes magazine encouraged further discussion by reporting that the king was the world’s richest royal, with assets worth $US35 billion ($54 billion), while Thai internet bulletin boards regularly feature barely coded anti-royal comments that are especially critical of the Queen, given her open support for the PAD’s campaign.

There has been a vigorous royalist backlash to this outbreak of free speech. The Ministry of Information and Communication Technology has tried to block thousands of websites that carry material on the royal family, army units have been ordered to monitor the internet for inappropriate content and ordinary citizens have been encouraged to report anti-royal comments to police.

The crackdown is serious: a political activist was sentenced to six years in prison for criticising the king at a public rally, while another is in prison awaiting trial and facing the prospect of an even heavier sentence.

Just this week came another charge of lese-majeste. An academic at a prestigious university was charged because eight paragraphs in his book about the military coup in September 2006 referred to the political influence of the king.

Nicolaides was in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught up in a campaign of good old-fashioned political repression. It is clear the Thai Government is willing to sacrifice freedom of speech for protection ofthe royal family’s image.

But how will it respond to human rights abuses perpetrated by the army? The gravity of the charges over its actions towards the Burmese boat people, plus ongoing international scrutiny, should prompt firm action against the perpetrators. But this is far from inevitable, as there are bigger political issues involved.

The extent of military influence within the Government is not clear, but Abhisit owes his commanders big favours. His path to the prime ministership goes back to the 2006 coup, which overthrew Thaksin Shinawatra’s populist government and sent him into exile.

The military-controlled government that followed put in place a new constitution. This included provisions that could be used to undermine a pro-Thaksin government if one was to regain power, which is exactly what happened in December 2007, at the first post-coup election.

The newly elected government had to live with judicial interference and speculation about another coup for much of its short life. Its fate was sealed when the army refused to move on PAD protesters who occupied Government House and, later, the international airport.

The army chief even took the extraordinary step of calling on Abhisit’s predecessor, Somchai Wongsawat, to resign during the airport crisis. When the ruling party was finally dissolved by the Constitutional Court, the army chief played a key role in persuading government politicians to defect to Abhisit’s camp, giving him the numbers to win the parliamentary vote for prime minister.

The army is politically powerful, and Abhisit can be expected to come under pressure not to expose it to undesirable domestic and international scrutiny. There is no lese-majeste law that can be called upon to cover up reports of refugee mistreatment. But already Abhisit seems to be laying the groundwork for a minimalist investigation, suggesting that media coverage of the incident may be exaggerated and that witnesses may have misunderstood what they were seeing. On Thursday he even seemed to endorse the army action, announcing a crackdown on illegal immigrants, declaring “we will push them out of the country”.

The brutal dirty work against the unfortunate refugees is alleged to have been done by the internal security operations command, a military unit dating from Thailand’s fight against communist insurgents during the Cold War. It was given expanded powers after the 2006 coup, and its broad national security brief may grant it protection from close scrutiny.

But whatever the outcome of the investigation, the incident is the latest in the army’s very patchy human rights record. There is a well-documented history of forced repatriation of refugees by army units. And in the southern Muslim provinces, the army’s heavy-handed response to low-level insurgency has compounded grievances and strengthened the cause of anti-government elements.

In 2004 there were two notorious cases of military brutality. In April, 28 militants were killed when the army stormed the sacred Krue Se mosque after a poorly managed siege. One of the commanders involved in the mosque killings, Colonel Manat Kongpan, is accused of leading the recent push-back action against the Burmese boat people. In October about 80 protesters suffocated when they were detained and stacked like logs in army trucks for a three-hour journey to a military base.

No one has been punished for these incidents, which took place under the watch of Thaksin, the champion of the notorious “war on drugs” that claimed over 2000 lives in a nationwide rampage of extrajudicial killings.

Abhisit is undoubtedly keen to distance his administration from the excesses of the Thaksin era. So far, despite some hitches, he has succeeded in presenting a positive image to the international community. After the political turmoil of the past year, his leadership holds out the attractive prospect of stability, perhaps even reconciliation.

But unless his Government is willing to expose the monarchy and the military to internationally acceptable standards of scrutiny and accountability, his human rights credibility will be compromised and he will bear a heavy burden of repression.

Murderous military brutality cannot go unpunished, especially when writing a paragraph about the private life of a prince in an unread book lands you in jail for three years.

Khwamrunræng kap kanchatkan “khwamching” : Pattani nai rop kưg sattawat (Violence and managing the yruth: Pattani in the last half century) (2008) by Chaiwat Satha-Anand (ISBN: 9789749900390). This is another scholarly examination of Thailand’s southern violence by Chaiwat. The 365 page book discuss the narrative of violence in Pattani in literature and the press, with four detailed case studies. There are numerous bibliographical references. The table of contents is available here.

[This post is provided by the National Library of Australia as part of our Book Zone feature. For further information on the featured publications contact Saowapha Viravong at sviravong@nla.gov.au]

And their conclusion?

Simply, those who do not share an authoritarian orientation are very few. We have shades of authoritarian orientations rather than different orientations altogether. However, the prevalence of an authoritarian orientation does not endorse the currently popular view among those who put forth semi-authoritarianism: that the people are not yet ready for democracy.

To read the full version click here.

Phaendin chintanakan (Imagined land: solving southern violence and the state in Thailand) (2008) edited by Chaiwat Sathaanan (ISBN: 9789740200789). This voluminous (596 pages), well researched and  well referenced text is a comprehensive contemporary study of the three southern provinces of Songkla, Narathiwat and Hat Yai. The text includes discussions of national security policy concerning the south; review of research and literature on the south; the culture of public administration; religious relations; and the ‘War on Terror’. Each of the ten chapters are contributed by specialists in the various fields. Here is the contents page.

[This post is provided by the National Library of Australia as part of our Book Zone feature. For further information on the featured publications contact Saowapha Viravong at sviravong@nla.gov.au]