Bangkok Post: Opinion

It is not about anger. It is about anguish and disillusionment. It is about a country where small people have to pay with their blood, sweat and tears for the boon which the ruling elite of all sides want to grab.

Korn-uma Pongnoi's painful speech in memory of her late husband Charoen Wat-aksorn's death needs to be heard. For those who read Thai, go to http://www.prachatai.com/journal/2009/06/24863

For those who do not, here are edited excerpts. The translation cannot fully convey Korn-uma's fiery spirit, particularly when she tore down the hierarchical barrier by addressing the powerful as mueng. But the message still rings true:

"We're here in front of Charoen Wat-aksorn's monument, the symbol of the ongoing struggle of us commoners across the land for the love of our home communities. We're here to declare the determination of people who share our Bo Nok and Ban Krut brothers' and sisters' fate.

"What is our fate? It is a situation when we the majority end up marginalised, branded as the minority, and forced to sacrifice for the so-called larger good of the nation. But whose nation?

"In numbers, we are the majority. But we're exploited by the powerful few at the top of the power pyramid, all connected in the web of the wealthy and the politically powerful.

"What Charoen and the villagers' movement in Prachuap and other places has done is to stand up and directly confront the development projects which would destroy our communities. We're fighting against the mantra that there are losses and gains in development. The real question is who loses and who gains?

"Is it fair that the rich continue to be filthy rich while the poor continue to bleed to death? Your side gains, ours loses.

"The government told us to see the big picture. It is junk talk. Fact is, we ordinary villagers are firm in our conscience to protect our dignity and livelihoods. We cannot afford the helicopter to see the big picture from the sky. We only have one weapon: human rights and community rights. For us, community rights translates as 'our home', and human rights is simply equal to 'you're a human being, I'm a human being' (mueng kor khon, ku kor khon).

"The state says all are equal under the law, which is not true. In Rayong, the investors' land reclaim has destroyed the fishermen's livelihoods and subjected them to toxic pollution. In Pran Buri, the fishermen cannot even set up shacks to keep fishing nets. No way for them to land rights. Only arrests. Where is community rights?

"Do you understand our pain when we say this is our home?

"Five years after Charoen's death, our tears have dried up from the waiting in vain to see justice done. But our eyes are opened; we just cannot hope for justice in this land. The police said: 'It's good that he died. Such a trouble-maker.' Some judges kept repeating 'the country needs development'.

"These negative attitudes are part of the oppressive system which erodes our rights as equal human beings. They see us as a herd of sheep. They think if they can get rid of the shepherd, the herd will disperse.

"But we are still standing here. And our ideology, our love for our home communities is spreading. Nearly 10 years have passed since our fight against the power plant, we're still speaking about the same old thing. And the villagers are still facing the same old problems.

"To make it easier for the state to understand us, let's make it clear what we mean. Community rights means baan ku [our home]. And we're here to show that we're not a herd of sheep. We are citizens. We're ready to stand up. We're the majority. And we won't let others determine our life."

Hands off! The back-breaking rice farming work is only for Thais. If you are a foreigner wanting to invest in farming here, our laws allow you to partake only in the more profitable business of food processing and other agriculture-related investments which require high capital and technology.

No, no, you foreigners cannot engage in contract-farming here, either. That would turn independent farmers into hired hands on their own land. That would be daylight robbery. Only Thai agro giants can do that and still call it agricultural development!

But if you still want to invest in farming, get a Thai front. The law says it is okay if the paperwork states that your Thai partners own up to 51%. Reality does not count.

No, this is not a joke. This is how our laws on farming protection work.

What is more stunning is that when the government cited this law to appease the nationalist outcry against the Gulf Cooperation Council's interest in rice farming here, it worked like magic in ending the anxiety, leaving the real issue - that of environmentally destructive farming - as unaddressed as ever.

Should we allow foreigners to invest in farming in Thailand? When the world is galvanised by global warming and economic globalisation amid depleting natural resources, this is no longer an applicable question.

Intensive chemical farming has hardened the soil, destroyed the organisms that nourish soil fertility, and severely contaminated the waterways and the food chain with cancer-inducing residues. Is this not a crime if the Thais do it?

What if some foreign investors want to invest in ecological farming; should we say no to them? Rice farming is a politically sensitive issue because rice is not only a major export but also a national symbol of sorts. But if the government wants to protect poor farmers, why have its policies principally served the middlemen and exporters while strengthening the grip of agro-business monopoly?

Thai or not, no one should be allowed to engage in farming which destroys the ecology and poses health threats to society. Period.

Is it possible that our fear of land grabbing by oil-rich Arabs has political, even racist, elements? When ousted premier Thaksin Shinawatra wanted to introduce a rice farming scheme from the Middle East, he was lambasted as engaging in a sell-out. PM Abhisit Vejjajiva certainly does not want to be seen as following in the same footsteps.

But why a thunderous no to the Arabs, when no one in power has paid any attention to the Chinese investors who have massively cut down the forests in the North for their orange plantations, filling the valleys with the deathly stench of toxic farm chemicals? And had it not been for fierce opposition from grassroots groups, China would have enjoyed the eucalyptus tree farms deal from the Forestry Department, too.

Aren't orange and eucalyptus plantations farming activities?

Amid fears of land-grabbing foreigners, the Democrat government is all set to give local landlords a big bonanza. Deputy Interior Minister Thaworn Senneam has promised to elevate some one million informal land ownership papers called Sor Kor I into fully-fledged land title deeds within February next year. Such a rush will make it next to impossible to investigate land ownership irregularities.

Many Sor Kor I sites are located in the commons, on scenic hills, or by the beaches where they should not be. Thanks to corruption, they are already in the hands of land speculators.

The land reform movement demands the return of this illegally acquired land to be distributed to the landless under a community ownership system. The government said yes to one such pilot project, then immediately announced a plan to reward the landlords.

The landlords are Thai, Mr Thaworn claims in defence. And the more land you own, the more taxes you will be paying to the state, he added.With such an absurd rationale, there is no hope for land reform - and the political instability rooted in social injustice will continue with no end.

Remember the public's reaction when the idea of setting up a special administrative zone for the Muslim-dominated South was introduced five years ago? The proposal came from former PM Gen Chavalit Yongchaiyudh. And boy, how that was torn to shreds!

The criticism stemmed partly from his image problem. The Establishment did not trust his political ambitions. The public was also weary of his patronising and vague talking style which barely hid his ulterior motive, which was to keep himself in the power game.

But the deeper problem is the mainstream society's ethnic prejudice and ultra nationalism, which make people immediately lump political decentralisation together with secessionism.

The political sensitivity is so fierce that even the highly popular former PM Anand Panyarachun, in his capacity as chair of the now-defunct National Reconciliation Commission, had to repeatedly stress that his peace commission's special administrative zone proposal was not autonomy, but a form of power-sharing.

No matter who said it or how it was phrased to make it appear more palatable to mainstream society, this alternative model always fell flat afterwards. Will PM Abhisit Vejjajiva make a difference this time around?

Gen Chavalit's proposal followed the Krue Se massacre in 2004, to appease the southern Muslims' hurt and fury. PM Abhisit's proposal, though he is reluctant to call it a special administrative zone, comes after escalating violence following the Tak Bai verdict which frees the military from one of the country's most severe state crimes against the southern Muslims.

A pregnant woman shot to death. A score of teachers killed. Soldiers ambushed. A farmer beheaded. Police stations, tea shops and mini-buses bombed. Indiscriminate killings at a mosque while people were praying. A monk shot to death during an alms round.

Is this an-eye-for-an-eye revenge? Is it a step closer to secession? Or is it the work of local mafias and some bigwigs in uniform to perpetuate the atmosphere of violence in order to protect their power turfs?

Or is it all of the above? No one knows. What we know for a certainty, however, is that no one is safe now in this seeming all-out war in the deep South.

Let's look at the feedback on Mr Abhisit's proposal. The military has remained silent. Buddhist organisations have expressed opposition, claiming that it would eventually lead to secession. Meanwhile, the new political party Matubhum, consisting of southern Muslim politicians, has welcomed the idea and urged the government to promptly pass the Democrat-sponsored bill to establish a special administrative body in the deep South.

Wait a minute. What bill? Do people there know about this? Have they been consulted? Is this going to be the same old ball game of daddy-knows-best when talk about people's participation is mere empty talk and a policy that crucially affects the locals' livelihood remains in the politicians' hands without heeding the voices of the locals?

The same goes for Mr Abhisit's promise to pour development money into the far South to appease local frustrations. But will it? Does he realise how the so-called development projects in the past have destroyed the natural environment, the locals' ways of life, and trust in the government? Has he asked what kind of development the locals want?

Actually, the local anxiety is rising amid talk about dams and other mega projects which will benefit only big business, construction godfathers and the local political elites.

The deep South certainly needs a kind of self-government. But by whom, and how? Sharing a faith does not mean the southern Muslims have uniform needs. And if the special administrative zone is a miniature of top-down bureaucracy that favours the local elites' vested interests, the new order will not lead to better human security and human rights protection for ordinary people.

Empowering civil society and fostering community rights will provide the balancing factors. Unfortunately, this element of democracy is sorely missing in the special administrative zone move because the powers-that-be, Buddhist or Muslim, do not listen to little people's voices.

On Sunday June 7, we were shocked by the photo of actor David Carradine in Thai Rath, the country's biggest and most influential newspaper.

The next day, we were left speechless by the photo of a dead teenager, with two gunshot wounds oozing blood on to her barely covered breast in Khaosod, Thai Rath's rival newspaper.

Carradine's hanging body was shadowed to show restraint. In the same vein, the tip of the teenagers' breast was covered with a small strip, with her ID photo alongside.

Imagine the pain of their families.

According to the print media's code of conduct, it is unethical to present news or photos which violate the human dignity of people in the news. The press are required to strictly protect the rights of children, women and the underprivileged and prohibited from presenting material that violates the public's sense of decency.

Seems like few care.

Sad, isn't it?

Maybe we should not feel sad about the state of Thai journalism. We should feel mad. Sadness does not change a thing. Anger can.

And we should not direct our anger at the papers involved only. We also should question our own lack of moral outrage which allows the mass media to get away with murder. Not only with the use of gory pictures of fatal accidents and dead people, but also for playing God by judging who is right and wrong in the news while perpetuating ultra-nationalism, racism and gender prejudices which further deepens social inequality and injustice.

Such is the power of the pen.

But that power can be prevented from being abused. No, not by the press associations which advocate what should be but have no control over what is. Effective pressure for change comes from the readers.

From you.

No, I am not passing the buck. I am talking about what has actually happened in Thai media circles during the past three decades.

Back then, the use of gory photos was pervasive. The news coverage of rapes and murders was graphic, even pornographic, while readily revealing the personal identities of the victims. But because many readers felt angry and showed it to those news media organisations, things started to change.

Credit must also go to women's right groups. First, they strongly attacked such inhumane and unethical practices and their critiques were enthusiastically covered by the corps of women's page journalists who were fed up with their papers' sex crime reporting. Next, they paid top editors a visit, organised gender sensitivity news writing for young reporters, and worked with media organisations on producing related handbooks.

Yet it is the moral outrage of the readers which the media must ultimately submit to.

Who would imagine the powerful Thai Rath issuing any public apologies to anybody? But that was what happened some years back when it published a photo of the near-naked dead body of a rape victim.

Readers had the phones ringing off the hook with their angry calls. Shocked by such an unprecedented show of public anger, the paper issued a public apology in its editorial the next day. Its internal investigations also revealed what is true at other newspapers' newsdesks, a constant push and pull between the hawk and dove front-page editors - and what ensues depends on who is in charge that day.

Admittedly, we still see gory pictures now and then in the papers but they are not as pervasive as before. Revealing the identity of the victims has also become rare.

Why the resurgence of this heartless practice, then? Why near silence at home about the Carradine and teenager photos? Has it anything to do with the economic crunch and political upheavals which shut our hearts, our minds while intensifying our killer instincts and individualistic escapism?

The people who decided to run those photos face a much simpler question: why do to others what you would not do to your own sons and daughters?

Look in the mirror and answer.

When I was little, I used to believe that death was inevitable for everyone else except me. Such is the arrogance of childhood.

Now that the person I see in the mirror is a totally different being from that unknowing girl - with each strand of grey hair confirming a step closer to the inevitable - what I fear most is not death itself, but the loss of control over how I die.

That is also one form of arrogance, isn't it?

The right-to-die movement in Thailand does not believe so. That is why they are pushing for a "living will" law so that when we are at death's door, we can die a natural death surrounded by our loved ones instead of being kept in a vegetative state, having our lives artificially prolonged by modern medical technology.

The law and the medical community must respect our right to die with dignity, they insist.

When the draft of the law was debated in a public hearing session in Bangkok last week, the focus on the medical and legal technicalities reflected the medical community's fear for their legal safety, rather than the dying patients' needs for quality care and peaceful departure.

Fear of lawsuits aside, can the medical community's concerns stem from their professional training which makes them see their mission as a war against Death and modern technology as their weapon to conquer Nature?

Or is it just a wariness on the civil society's challenge against the medical community which has long enjoyed the authority to determine which patients should, or could, be saved or not.

I, for one, cannot quite grasp the physicians' fear of breaking the law and medical ethics.

Let's face reality on the ground. When the majority poor still cannot afford proper medical treatment and when scarce budgets go to the ones who can be saved first, isn't it already a common practice for physicians in cash-strapped state hospitals to just let the dying ones go?

Some cynics even suggest the resistance against the living will is mainly a financial one since the life-prolonging operation is mainly a practice in private hospitals where the better-off seek medical care.

If your ailing parent is critically sick and the doctors tell you there are ways that "might" save his/her life, but you must pay for them, what will you do? If you don't take the option, you risk being an ingrate and suffer the guilt of not doing your best to save the life of your parent.

So you keep paying. This exploitation by medical commercialisation has left many families bankrupt.

That is why I will definitely have my living will. Not only because it will save my family from unnecessary guilt and financial bankruptcy, but having an advance directive will also force me to comtemplate on death, my own death.

It will force me to explore ways to help me greet death with calm, how to go without resentment or regrets left, and how to prepare myself for that critical moment through cultivating mindfulness here and now.

The spiritual element is originally the driving force of the draft living will. Unfortunately, this essence has been sidelined as the draft keeps sliding deeper and deeper into legal technicalities.

The living will is not only about filling forms and meeting legal and medical requirements. It is about talking it through with our family about life and death and having a more equal patient-physician relationship.

It is about accepting the limitations of technology, accepting our own mortality, and understanding what constitutes a good death.

It is also about our new outlook on life that frees us from fear and bereavement from death and loss.

Without these elements, our last wish to die with dignity risks being bypassed - living will or not.

Looking for good news from trouble-plagued Thailand? Here's one item. An important one: Community land reform is becoming a reality.

After years of struggle against death threats from land mafia and jail sentences from the legal system, the landless movement's demands for a more equitable land distribution system through community land title deeds has finally won the ear of the government.

Last week, PM's Office Minister Sathit Wongnongtoey, in his capacity as vice chair of the Land Rights Conflicts Resolution Committee, visited Ban Tabkuea, an old forest community in Trang, to see how its community land ownership works. He later declared Ban Tabkuea as the model in a pilot project to pioneer community land title deeds in other parts of the country.

This system will not only allow the landless to make use of the vast amount of idle land owned by absentee landlords, it will also help resolve land rights conflicts between more than one million farming families and the Forestry Department as well as other state agencies.

Equally important, it will strengthen democracy at the grassroots level, improve local food security, and prevent loss of farm and forest land to land speculators. How?

We should begin with the "why" first.

Thailand's land distribution is not only a disgrace, it underlies structural injustices which are the root cause of the current political turmoil.

While around 500,000 families are landless, 90% of Thais own an average of only one rai. The richest 10%, meanwhile, owns more than 100 rai.

State agencies are also big landlords. The biggest one is the Forestry Department because it defines all lands without title deeds as forests under its jurisdiction.

Many villagers have been living and farming there for generations, but the forest laws outlaw them, criminalise them as illegal encroachers, and subject them to imprisonment. We are talking about five million people across the country.

While their push for community forests ended up being mutilated in Parliament to maintain the power of forest authorities, some 400 communities gritted their teeth and formed a land reform movement. They advocated community land title deeds, community rules for land and forest management, and land bank funds.

Under this system, land allocation is a communal decision, said Prayong Doklamyai, a land reform activist. The recipients cannot sell the land to outsiders, only back to the community which has a fund to buy land back to give to those in need. Since many communities are in forest areas, they also have strict community rules on forest use and conservation.

While the Abhisit administration wants to expand this community land system to build popular support, it is ironic that its pioneers are still in deep trouble.

They are the landless villagers in Ban Paetai, Lamphun. In 1997, they took over the commons which had been illegally sold to land speculators and long left idle. They were consequently hit with a barrage of lawsuits with real imprisonment threats. Other communities, however, have learned from their defiance and have since adopted the Lamphun model to fight for land justice.

Despite the government's positive response to community land reform, it is still too early to celebrate victory.

The forest authorities are quick to point out that the government's approval for community land deeds is "against the law" and fight back through inaction. Meanwhile, other villages in the community land reform network are facing intensifying intimidation from the authorities and land mafia to quit, or disappear. For the landless, there is no turning back. When the land lease contracts with big companies expire, the state land involved must be used for community land reform for the landless, they insist. The land bank funds must be set up to buy back the commons illegally sold to speculators. And progressive land tax must be in place.

Given our land distribution injustice, doing otherwise is not only a moral outrage, it is the cause of endless violence.

The strong stench from the black concoction never fails to put people off. But for Somboon Daeng-aroon, the foul-smelling black liquid is but a magic potion.

And he is very proud of it.

It has been five years now since Somboon, a farmer at Tambon Praeg Namdaeng in Samut Songkhram's Amphawa district, stopped using all farm chemicals in his ricefields. Instead, he has been using his recipe of fermented organic fertiliser and pesticide - a brew of molasses, micro-organism liquid, indigenous plants, together with some fish and golden apple snails - to nourish his paddies and to shoo away harmful insects.

Mr Somboon has also turned his back on chemical herbicides. "If we let the water in our paddy fields in time and keep the water level stable, the weeds cannot grow," he explained.

The shift to organic farming has not caused him bankruptcy as many feared. The yield has dropped only slightly but the investment costs have fallen drastically when he no longer has to depend on expensive chemical pesticides and fertiliser.

Thanks to organic rice farming, the "hard and dead" soil has returned to life. "So have the fish and frogs that used to be abundant in the ricefields during the times of our fathers and mothers. Our problems mainly come from the new ways that destroy nature."

From only a plot of 30 rai, the area of organic rice farming has now expanded to 2-300 rai in his neighbourhood.

Chin Jaroennet, Mr Somboon's cousin, pointed to spider webs and dragonflies of different colours in her fields. "They are good insects which keep the harmful ones away. But chemical pesticides kill all, useful or not. It is also killing nature, and us farmers over time."

With spiralling investment costs, health dangers, degrading environment, rising demands for clean food, and successive governments' promises of support, more and more rice farmers like Mr Somboon have turned to organic farming. Yet, the majority still retain a wait-and-see policy.

Why is that?

The officials are good at telling farmers what they should do. "But what we really need is marketing help," said Somboon.

The modern harvesting technology of mass production and the farmers' lack of storage sites make it necessary for them to send the grains to the rice mills to prevent rotting. The markets for organic rice then remain small due to lack of product differentiation.

A community mill may answer some of the production problems. "But we still need to work harder to connect with the buyers," he said.

Despite the national plan to support organic farming, the push for farm chemicals is business as usual on the ground.

This is understandable. The past four decades of Green Revolution - which promotes high-yield rice varieties and the intensive use of farm chemicals - has forged unbreakable ties between agro-chemical giants and state agencies.

Who cares if the country has to fork out more than 45 billion baht to import more than four million tonnes of farm chemicals a year? And with that kind of money involved, who cares that 70% of these chemicals are not allowed in the West, that reservoir water is contaminated with toxic residues, that our fruits and vegetables are soaked with dangerous substances, and that the rise of cancer and other diseases caused by toxic chemicals has skyrocketed?

Despite the odds, Mr Somboon said he would not go back to the state-promoted, toxic ways.

The road leading to his farmland passes a vacant factory that once recklessly released toxic waste water into nearby canals. Along the way are also wastelands that once were lush mangrove forests, destroyed by greedy investors of chemical-fed prawn farms.

"We were brainwashed into believing that factories and chemical agriculture was our answer. We now know that it's not true. Both businesses collapsed before our eyes, leaving behind much destruction.

"Ours is a food-producing country. We can easily sustain it if we keep our natural environment healthy. But if we keep on using toxic farm chemicals, we're destroying ourselves."

Last year's Oct 7 crackdown happened during Buddhist Lent, a time for restraint and self-contemplation.

This year's violent Red Songkran struck during festivities traditionally reserved for family reunions to celebrate the virtues of thankfulness and gratitude.

The sacred Visakha Bucha Day this month is meant to remind us that all is transient, thus there is no use clinging to it. Yet, both the red and yellow shirts are still threatening another show of force.

During Visakha Bucha this month, Buddhist leaders worldwide gathered in Thailand to ponder how Buddhism provides ways out of violent conflict and environmental breakdown. We should not feel proud that this important event took place here. That is just an obsession with face.

Instead, we should be ashamed of ourselves.

The deep turmoil during the past four years - with no sign of repentance from all parties concerned - only gives a bad name to the Buddha, should we continue to call ourselves Buddhists.

Do only good deeds. Stop all bad actions. And purify our mind.

We've grown up with this Buddhist teaching. So why the endless violence?

Start asking this question and fingers will be pointed at the "morally degrading Western influences" which divorce the young minds from Thai cultural roots and push them under the powers of consumerism, materialism, and the glorification of violence.

Excuse me, but I don't buy that.

Just look at the bigwigs on the stages of both the red and yellow shirts. We mainly see the grey-haired, self-proclaimed saviours of the nation or revolutionaries. Both sides endlessly and passionately aroused hatred and violence in the name of high-minded goals such as patriotrism and social justice, although evil means cannot bring about any virtuous goals.

Fanning hatred is only a few steps away from committing the cardinal sin of causing violence, bloodshed and death - which is exactly what happened.

Mind you, most principal players in this political drama are in their sunset years, yet they refuse to fade away gracefully from the corridors of power to pursue what Buddhism suggests one should do in one's last phase of life - going to temples to meditate.

Interestingly, many of these so-called patriots and revolutionaries fluently recite Buddhist teachings - selectively, however, to support their causes. The orthodox Santi Asoke Sect is in full support of the yellow shirts although the movement violates many basic Buddhist principles. Meanwhile, the red shirts also enjoy backing from the divided clergy.

In fact, one of the most disturbing sights during the Red Songkran violence was that of a monk joining the angry crowd to block and beat up the prime minister's sedan. He was obviously out for the kill.

With near silence from the clergy, that very image speaks volumes about the state of popular Thai Buddhism.

Much has been said about the structural inequality and injustice at the heart of our explosive politics. In the spirit of Visakha, we should ponder another lethal factor, one of the most dangerous things Buddhism cautions against: fierce attachment to views and ideologies.

In essence, beliefs are mere thoughts shaped by one's background, cultural values, self-interests, aspirations and selective information fanned by emotions and the us-against-them worldview.

Because we treat our beliefs as an extension of our ego, we are ready to react violently if our sense of self is threatened.

The bigger the ego, the more violent the reaction.

We refuse to accept the natural laws that beliefs - like anything else in the universe including ourselves - are inter-connected and ever-changing. We want to freeze what is constantly arising and passing away so we can hold on to it.
We refuse to accept that defying natural laws only creates trouble and suffering. So we get exactly what Nature promises: trouble and suffering.

Peace depends very much on truth and justice. But when we refuse to accept Nature's truth of transience and inter-connectedness, our definition of justice according to our views and ideologies ends up being just only for our group.

That is why peace remains ever elusive.



     

Is there any good news when the country is paralysed by political turmoil and strangled by the global economic meltdown? Is there anyone left that I can talk to, who is not caught in the pro- and anti-Thaksin camps, or not trapped in the ivory tower of political theories and ideological wars?

I called Korn-uma Pongnoi, a grassroots leader of the Bo Nok-Hin Krud communities in Prachuap Khiri Khan, and I was not disappointed.

Bo Nok-Hin Krud are the coastal communities which are threatened by mega industrial projects one after another. Fighting against successive governments, top-down bureaucracy, corrupt police and local mafia who are the investors' hired hands, the villagers eventually succeeded in stopping a coal-fired power plant in Bo Nok-Hin Krud.

But there still remains the menace from other giant steel-smelting plants and coal-fired power factories nearby.

Their war against destructive industrialisation never seems to end. "Ironically, the current political instability has caused a lull in these efforts, giving us some breathing room to strengthen our network on the ground," Ms Korn-uma said. "But the lull is only temporary. Once the winner emerges and regains a full grip on power, these projects will return to haunt us again."

Thaksin or not, the environment and the locals' livelihoods remain under threat because policy-makers and the state machinery are under the mantra of economic development, which is why successive governments have chosen environmentally destructive industrialisation in pursuit of economic growth.

"They all talk democracy, but they all resort to top-down policies to steal our natural resources. Once they win the ballot box game, they take away power again, refusing to listen to our voices and to respect our community rights.

"Is this democracy? Why be happy with democracy in its crudest form? We must ask who gets to define democracy, who gets to set the path of national development, and who benefits from it."

When Earth is threatened by global warming as a result of environmental destruction to feed insatiable consumerism, and when the world economy is suffering a meltdown from runaway economic globalisation, it is most perplexing to Korn-uma that our decision-makers - be they the yellows, reds and the in-betweens - insist on pursuing the same environmentally destructive paths.

"Our country is abundant with food sources. Why do we want to destroy our food security and our potential to be the centre of safe food for the world?

"Our community is blessed with healthy seas. Yet the authorities want to turn us into another Rayong. But look at the Rayong people's suffering. Why trade an abundant source of food, people's livelihood and health with money that benefits few families?

"We must question this cult of economic growth if we want to save the environment and the little people," she said.

There is a need to go beyond political polarisation in order to understand the country's real challenges.

"But we have little chance to do so if we keep looking at things in black and white, pushing those who disagree with our views to the opposite side.

"For the past few years, we have been swamped by divisive yes-or-no agendas. Do you want Thaksin or not? Do you want the royally-appointed government or not? Do you sympathise with coup-makers or not? Do you endorse the coup-supported constitution or not? Are you Red or not? Or are you Yellow?

"Forced to take sides, we are robbed of a chance to discuss the complexity of the situation and to select the good things in different arguments to build common ground."

Korn-uma lost her husband and soul mate, Charoen Wat-aksorn, in their mission to save their communities from destructive industrialisation.

But she refuses to let it kill her spirit. She braves through corrupt police and judicial red tape to give justice to her murdered husband because she believes in the rule of law and community rights, and is ready to defend it.

Korn-uma is not alone in her beliefs and determination to effect change on the ground.

And that is good news, indeed.

Nukid used to be fervent fan of Thaksin Shinawatra. Not any longer.

"I used to like him because his policies helped us rural folk," explained my household helper, referring to the 30-baht medical scheme and the one-million-baht village fund which are dismissed by his critics as handouts and systematic vote-buying.

"But what he has been doing with the red shirts shows he doesn't care for the country's good, only for himself," she said, explaining why she dumped him. "By supporting the riots, he is hurting the country and the economy while he continues to enjoy the good life overseas. His selfishness ends up hurting us people on the ground," said the mother of one from Surin.

Many of her friends at the neighbourhood mom and pop store, their favourite hangout, shared the same view, she added.

If Nukid's pragmatism is anything to go by, it is quite possible that the senseless violence that put the nation on the brink during Songkran could seriously erode Thaksin's former political stronghold.

Interestingly, democracy and the effort to free the country from the mandarins - the claimed ideological pursuit of the red shirts - never entered their discussions. Nor royal nationalism and accusations from the yellow shirts that Thaksin is out to undermine the monarchy.

"We are just fed up with seemingly endless protests. We want our normal life back. And we feel sorry for the King, who must be deeply saddened by all this," she said.

Meanwhile, my father-in-law, an honest, retired official who has dreams of grandeur for Thailand, remains fiercely loyal to Thaksin.

Their different reactions to the Songkran anarchy blow away the standard explanation of the international media and so-called experts on Thailand, that our political mess is a reflection of a deep rural/urban divide, by lumping the rural folk as pro-Thaksin and the urban middle-class as the yellow shirt supporters.

This over-simplification has been shrewdly abused by the media-savvy Thaksin, who has made himself out to be the champion of the poor and democracy to the rest of the world.

The shutting down of the Asean summit by mob violence and the Songkran riots instigated by Thaksin and his cohorts finally shattered this false image and exposed Thaksin's lies, which many international media outlets helped spread for far too long.

Now that the riots are over, we must ask why a corrupt and autocratic politician succeeded in creating such deep political divisiveness.

That a decent man like my father-in-law is still fiercely loyal to Thaksin defies the stereotype that the reds are mere hired hands. It shows how powerfully Thaksin has tapped into real popular frustrations with the status quo. They are fed up with the patron-client and the phuyai system and they want to have freedom of expression in order to make the establishment more transparent and accountable.

These are valid demands in any democratic society.

Since there is no platform for them to express themselves openly and safely, they are forced to turn to the fugitive Thaksin whom they adopt as a symbol of challenge against authority.

The Songkran riots showed how destructive things can get if their perceived injustice is ignored and whipped up by a powerful demagogue like Thaksin.

Like it or not, the 2006 coup and the ensuing battles between the yellow and red shirts have opened a floodgate of dissatisfaction against old taboos. Since we cannot turn the tide, the only way forward is to provide a political safety-valve for change.

This requires fixing structural inequalities and providing safety for political expression of all shades. It also entails a rethinking of the lese majeste law to strike a balance between cultural reverence and freedom of expression.

 An open society which allows dissenting views is not only an indicator of political maturity, it is also key to long-term peace. If and when that is the case, Thaksin Shinawatra's political trantrums will become meaningless.

Not too long ago, it was an unspoken rule in Thai politics that if you were ousted from the seat of power, you just stayed low, kept your bitterness to yourself, let the dust settle, and you would soon be allowed to return home to enjoy the riches you had accumulated, minus the political power you once had.

That was what strongmen Thanom Kittikachorn and Prapass Charusathiara did. So did former prime ministers Chatichai Choonhavan and Suchinda Kraprayoon. That is also what many military bosses and other phuyai in Thai society, including his former fortune-teller, have been telling Thaksin Shinawatra to do.

The fugitive former prime minister has refused to play by the old rules, choosing instead to stir up a storm to reclaim power and - if that fails - to bring his enemies down with him.

It would be too easy to pass off his reaction as the reflection of an imperial persona.

His giant ego and fierce stubbornness definitely play a role in his political tantrums. So does his choice to listen only to the fortune-tellers who tell him what he wants to hear. But we just cannot dismiss the fact that we are now living in a different Thailand where the old rules and traditional beliefs are crumbling fast.

From a sleepy, agrarian society with a set of beliefs to maintain working relations in a highly hierarchical and unequal society, the rush to modernise the country during these past four decades has opened up society and given the populace new aspirations which challenge the old norms.

Fierce materialism and the consumer culture have been much condemned for our current ills. But to blame it on greed alone would be misleading. In a highly hierarchical society where birthplace and family decide where you are in society as well as what you can and cannot do, people naturally embrace any new criteria that make them feel more free or more equal.

For some it is the freedom to express one's views without fear of persecution, which inevitably challenges censorship from the traditional establishment. For others, there is nothing more important in their world of consumerism than to possess material goods and to buy services in order to feel equal, even superior, to others.

Since unregulated development has rapidly siphoned natural resources from the rural sector to feed insatiable consumerism, many localities have taken refuge in their ethnic and tribal identities to resist the plundering by state and big business.

They are not the only ones who take refuge in old values. The unsettling change has also pushed many to seek inner security in the glorification of old traditions or the myth of Thai-ness, selectively recognising only its moral elements while dismissing its tacit endorsement of inequality.

Amid this social fragmentation, the old norms which demand uniform obedience no longer work. Each group is seeking their own different answers while democracy is differently defined.

The rise in southern violence. The challenge to the draconian lese majeste law. The grassroots movements for land reform and community rights to protect natural resources, community health and local ways of life. The emergence of the yellow-shirted anti-Thaksin PAD movement. These are all reactions to counter perceived oppression that will shake the status quo before the new rules are drawn.

Like it or not, Thaksin's refusal to play by the old political rules and the support he gets from the red shirts are also indicative of Thailand's new realities.

How to preserve peace among competing interests while fostering an open environment that is more equal and free?

Peaceful transition might have a chance if each conflicting party learns to objectively observe changes to realise the law of impermanence - that all things arise and pass away, including themselves - and thus to accommodate new rules in new realities.

Short of this, any intervention out of old views and prejudices will mostly tighten the entangled political knots and further inflame the conflict.

Is this a farce or a tragedy? Whatever the answer, it is our children who must suffer from the maddening university admissions system.

High school students and their parents are furious at the system and at their own hopelessness to get their voices heard.

This year, for example, the new rules forced high school students to take extra national tests when they had not yet completed the curriculum for the school year. Is that not farcical?

Even university deans think poorly of their rectors' judgement. So much so that more of them have refused to accept the central admissions system and started to recruit their new students directly themselves.

The whole thing became even more farcical, when chairman of the Rectors Council, Pirom Kamolratanakul, in his capacity as rector of Chulalongkorn University, announced that his institution would increase the percentage of direct recruitment from 30 to 60% because his deans do not trust the decision of the Rectors Council.

Should we laugh or cry at this?

It was amazing how Mr Pirom managed to keep a straight face while explaining why his deans disagree with the new rules, which increase the weight of cumulative grade point average from 10 to 20%.

When most high schools give the best grades possible to help their students, increasing the weight of cumulative grade point average would only further enflame this problem. It is beyond understanding why the Rectors Council cannot grasp this common sense.

Moreover, the Chulalongkorn deans do not believe that the extra aptitude and professional tests would better screen students for them. Since their opinions on how to adjust the system were not heeded, the Committee of Deans decided to protect their faculties' academic standards by increasing direct admissions.

The Faculty of Arts, for example, has decided to adopt 100% direct recruitment starting next academic year. The Faculty of Engineering will increase direct recruitment to 80%.

Good for them. But not necessarily so for the students.

As more and more faculties in various universities increase direct enrolment, it is only natural for the students to want to maximise their chances by taking as many direct entrance exams as they can. That means more stress and more fees to pay. It also means those who can afford expensive tutoring and expensive fees will have more chances at getting into university than those who cannot.

Moreover, direct admission at Chula is divided into two categories, ordinary and special direct recruitment.

Special? The university has a lot of explaining to do, as to what it means by special, since its board - despite the huge income from various commercial complexes - has forced each faculty to pay not only their own public utility bills but also for their teaching laboratories and equipment.

An education system is supposed to increase social egality. But this messy admissions system and the efforts to undo the knots have ended up screening out poor students more effectively.

Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva has vowed to overhaul the university entrance system. A good move. But it is simply not enough. The country needs to rethink and revamp the whole education system.

The university entrance mess is just a symptom of an education that kills the children's creativity and questioning minds by overwhelming them with heavy memorisation, intense competition, and fear of not getting into university.

It is a myopic system which judges the children by very narrow criteria and miserably fails to tap their potential and talent. The kids who do not meet the system's narrow standards are simply discarded and made to suffer low self esteem. It is a cruel system that pushes the kids who fall through the cracks to seek acceptance through destructive means.

Allowing this cruel system to go on is a complete tragedy for our country.

No more zoning regulations for the school milk programme. More UHT milk with a longer lifespan for the kids, instead of pasteurised milk which spoils easily.

If we believe these new rules will solve the problem of corruption in the school milk programme while absorbing raw fresh milk from the local dairy industry, then we will soon be in for a big disappointment.

According to Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva, he would revoke the zoning regulations designed by the Thaksin administration to let the free market take over.

Under this new scenario, he would also increase free milk days for school children while expandng the programme to cover up until Prathom 6 level.

The change will involve an additional budget injection of 2,000 million baht, said Deputy Prime Minister Korbsak Sabhavasu.

Some 1,300 million baht will go to buy milk for Prathom 5 and 6 pupils. The rest will go to the change from pasteurised to UHT packaging.

Meanwhile, the government will still let the Tambon Administration Office under the Department of Local Administration of the Interior Ministry, decide who will get the milk supply contracts.

Whether it be Thaksin's or Abhisit's administration, the officials are still holding fast to the daddy-knows-best policy, which believes that uniform rules can meet different needs in different locales.

But they cannot.

This new scheme will not solve school milk corruption either, since the corruption-ridden local administration bodies are still the main decision-maker, without participation from schools and parents groups.

There are many questions the government has to answer.

Let's start with a simple one: How can we be certain that the milk in the UHT package is really made from fresh milk?

We are only kidding ourselves if we believe that the label "Made From Fresh Cow's Milk" on the package is always true.

When milk powder is still much cheaper, how can we guarantee that UHT milk will not be made from powdered milk?

The difference in real cost will make a lot of people richer, but it does not necessarily guarantee better quality milk nor does it promise the end of raw milk oversupply in the local dairy industry.

Another question: What if a particular community does not want their children to drink cow's milk?

This is not a hypothetical question. Dr Waemahadi Waedao, Narithiwat MP of Puea Paendin party, has already pointed out that goat's milk is more suitable for the southern Muslim children.

Not only because goat's milk is healthy, but also because there is abundant goat's milk to be had there.

Using goat's milk in the deep South would, therefore, be good for the local dairy industry, convenient for transportation and in line with local traditional diet.

Similarly, what if some communities want their children to drink soymilk instead of cow's milk to avoid allergy problems?

What if they want to take turns serving their children dairy and soymilk so the kids are not bored with drinking the same thing every day?

It boils down to this question: Why cannot the communities work with schools to decide for themselves what they want for their children?

Why do they have to follow the top-down rules designed by those who do not understand local differences and preferences?

Why do they have to let the corruption-ridden local administration bodies control what affects their children's health?

When the communities take charge, the bidding and monitoring processes will be more open and transparent, thus eliminating the chance for corruption.

Call it anything you like, but the villagers call it grassroots democracy.

Rules from the top without local consultation cannot solve the problem of sub-standard milk. Nor can they stop corruption.

Is it a wonder, then, that despite the huge amount of money spent on the school milk programme, the rate of malnutrition has not improved at all in the past decade?

For our children's good health in a corruption-free system, it takes transparency and participation from the local people. It takes decentralised policy decision-making.

The answer, for the health of our kids and our system, is democracy.

The Assembly of the Poor is still alive and well. So is its determination to pressure the government into solving land rights problems.

That message was loud and clear when hundreds of villagers staged a protest at Government House recntly. 

The Assembly of the Poor champions different grassroots causes. But land rights tops its concerns because millions of people have been turned into forest encroachers by authoritarian forestry laws.

Is there any way out beyond street protests? Is there any other solution when the community forest bill has been distorted beyond recognition?

Head for mountainous Tambon Mae Yuam in Mae Hong Son's Mae Sariang district for a glimmer of hope.

Like forest dwellers in other parts of Thailand, the Mae Yuam hill people are subject to eviction and imprisonment by forestry laws, even though they have been living there for centuries. Their ecological farm rotation system has also been vilified as slash and burn to legitimise state eviction drives.

Like other villagers in national parks, they have been through bitter conflict with forestry officials, until they decided to take knowledge back into their own hands.

When the state authorities refused to recognise the forest dwellers' farm rotation plots or to listen to their folk knowledge in ecological farming and forest conservation, Pa-korn Kangwanpong, head of Mae Yuam Tambon Organisation Administration, decided to give it a touch of authority through modern technology.

He did it by helping the hill people build a digital land use database to gain state acceptance.

Since state participation is crucial, the TAO boss organised several town hall meetings for the villagers, forestry and district officials to discuss the need to build up a land use database for the whole tambon of Mae Yuam. Every party agreed that such information was necessary as terms of reference to settle land disputes and to contain further encroachment.

After mastering GPS technology, the hill peasants took the modern tool to locate each farm plot for computerised mapping. They did not do it alone though, but with a team of TAO, district and forestry officials.

"The availability of modern technology is helpful. But more important is the will of the communities and team participation from state officials," stressed Mr Pa-korn.

For transparency and accuracy, more town hall meetings were held to show the land plot database for community approval. Interestingly, seeing the big picture has strengthened the villagers' conservation awareness.

Apart from agreeing not to farm outside old plots, they have also set up strict forest conservation rules for the whole tambon.

For example, tree-cutting and wildlife poaching is totally prohibited in national parks. So is land-clearing of old plots by fire unless there is a firebreak. Those who want timber for house-building must get approval from the village committee first. The timber must come only from the woods specially set aside for community use.

As a community database, all farm plots in Mae Yuam are shown in the 1:4000 map on public display at the TAO office. It reminds forestry officials to accept the villagers' way while cautioning the villagers against new land-clearing.

To strengthen confidence in land security, each villager is given an informal document showing the sites of their land plots.

What did forestry officials say to this?

"The national park is huge," said Mr Pa-korn. "But there are only a few forestry officials to guard the forest. So I simply asked them if they want the villagers to help them or not?"

Now the Mae Yuam participatory forest conservation model based on modern database is expanding to other districts, thanks to support from Thailand Research Fund.

"If we can expand this effort to the whole of Mae Hong Son, we can use it to bargain for policy change with the government," said Mr Pa-korn.

"We can make it happen if state officials understand the reality on the ground and if the villagers are strongly committed to preserving their forests."

These are big if's. So thanks, Mae Yuam, for being our beacon of hope.

  We used to be shocked by sex scandals in the clergy. Given the endless stream of those wrongdoings, we no longer are. Heterosex has also become old news. The rage now is about gay and paedophile monks.

  The latest scandal involved an abbot in Nakhon Si Thammarat. His lover accused him of being unfaithful after finding out that the abbot had invited a group of teenagers to drink and party at his quarters. The last straw was reportedly the taint of semen on the abbot's mattress.

  Their quarrel turned violent. The jilted lover, after being beaten up, reported the matter to the police. The abbot fled and quit the monkhood to avoid arrest and forced disrobement.

  Having sexual intercourse, either straight or gay, is a cardinal sin in the monks' code of conduct. Their monkhood automatically ends once they commit the crime. When found out, they must be expelled from the clergy.

  Other three cardinal sins include stealing, killing and boasting of supernatural powers.

  How many "real" monks do we have left nowadays, given the widespread sex scandals, temple corruption and commercialisation of Buddhism?

  The scandalous case of the Nakhon Si Thammarat abbot has highlighted the issue of homosexuality in the clergy which has never received any serious attention from the elders.

  Well, what's new? The elders, comfortable in their cocoon of prestige and wealth, have never paid attention to any problems that have eroded public faith in the clergy anyway.

  Since the abbot had already quit the monkhood, the issue was considered closed. As a matter of procedure, the Office of National Buddhism has advised abbots nationwide to be more strict with ordination since it is against the vinaya to ordain the "pandaka," which is routinely translated as "homosexuals".

  In today's more liberal society, the issue of homosexuality and ordination has posed a challenge to traditional Buddhists. Since the Buddha says all human beings have the Buddha nature in themselves, meaning that everyone has the potential to attain nirvana, or spiritual liberation. So why not gays of all shades too?

  If women in Theravada Buddhism feel they have the right to be ordained so they can earnestly practice to transcend the illusion of self, lust, greed, anger and hatred, why then should this spiritual chance be denied to gay men and women?

  Some Buddhist experts have interpreted the ordination rule against the pandaka as applicable only to transvestites. But this remains debatable. Traditionalists would say it applies to gay men as a whole since it is considered too dangerous to put fuel near a fire.

  May I add my two cents?

  The issue here is not about the ordination rule or homosexuality. It is about violation of the vow of celibacy. And in many cases concerning the scandal of gay monks, it is about the sexual abuse of children. It is about letting paedophiles have a field day in the clergy.

  Gay or straight, this must not be tolerated.

  Many say they have noticed a stark increase in the number of "katoey" novices who show little restraint in expressing themselves, including the use of cosmetics, the readjusting of robes for a fashionable look, and the public display of feminine gestures. Could this suggest rife sexual abuse of minors in the temple, too?

  Inside temples, stories abound of paedophile sex. Not only novices but temple boys are vulnerable to this abuse. If the abbots are not the abusers themselves, they often involved other senior monks.

  Many abbots confess their fear to intervene, not only with sexual matters but also other misconduct. Drugs, for example. The temples have become a refuge for people with problematic backgrounds and are ridden with power plays between cliques and factions. Trying to expel rogue monks, they say, might cost them their lives.

  And why do anything when the top monks do not care anyway?

  The monks' sex scandals are just one of the symptoms of the crisis in the clergy. When monks no longer know what ordination and monkhood means, there is little hope for change.

Will someone please tell the army chief and the navy boss to stop making lame excuses? No one believes a word of it. The more they try to defend their horrific act with the Rohingya boat people, the bigger the hole they are digging for themselves. And the greater the harm they are doing to the country.

Thank you so very much for making the whole world see Thailand as a cold-blooded country.

At a time when Thailand badly needs to address its image problem from the coup, violent protests and the crazy airport closedown, the navy - apparently with full backing from other national security agencies - has shown the world how cruel we can be to poor migrant workers, especially when they are dark-skinned Muslims.

Thank you for forcing us to probe into our hearts to see if we can still call ourselves Buddhists.

Honestly, I am a bit annoyed by the way the news was played up in the foreign media, which often plays on sensationalism and moral superiority, feeding on bigotry. But there is not much we can do about that.

What we can do, however, is to look at our own bigotry, confront the problem and ask ourselves why we allow ourselves to be blind to such atrocities. For this was most certainly not the first time that the Rohingya boat people were pushed back to face death at sea. And it would not be the last had it not been exposed by the foreign press, which we must be thankful for.

But we see only denial and defensive reaction on the home front.

The navy and the army insist with deadpan faces that they did not violate any humanitarian standards.

Excuse me, sir. Is towing people out to the open seas, setting them adrift, and allowing them to starve to death your standard of humanity?

Wake up! You have already woken up to the fact that the world no longer accepts your coups. Now it is time to learn that your old-world standard is too poor to be acceptable, too.

The reaction from Deputy Prime Minister Suthep Thaugsuban is equally distressing. He says the whole thing is an attempt to discredit Thailand.

The responses from some local media are no less frustrating.

In sum, they view the navy's move as an effort to protect the country from the influx of the Rohingya, who are feared to have links with the southern Muslim militants.

Besides, Thailand is already swamped with immigrants and refugees from neighbouring countries. Overburdened, they say, Thailand needs help to deal with the massive migrant influx, not condemnation.

And if the international community wants to pin blame on someone, why Thailand and not Burma? Is the international community also to blame for failing to contain the atrocious Burmese junta, leading to the massive migration of the Rohingya and other ethnic minorities?

They may have some valid points. But what good are they if they are used to justify our heartlessness?

Personally, the most shocking reaction has come from my 13-year-old daughter: "But the Rohingya, aren't they illegal?"

They are, I said, but that is no reason to treat them so mercilessly. Waging my personal war against racist nationalism which poisons my girl's head, I told her the Rohingya are a Muslim minority who are severely persecuted by the Burmese military junta. They are the fathers who dared to risk their lives to support their poor families back home. And if we cannot let them stay, we must deport them through legal channels, not make them die at sea.

Her question: Why cannot Thailand do something with Burma to end the mess?

Why not, indeed.

Thai nationalism is notorious for making Thais hate Burma. Yet our governments and military have mostly backed the Burmese generals. It is Burma's oil, gas, timber and gems. It is greed. It is ethnic prejudices that dictate our treatment of the powerless Burmese people.

If that is why, we are now paying dearly for it.

A plan for a co-ed prison. A protest victory for nurses to receive better pay and welfare. Despite the headline news on the fire disasters and the persistent political entanglements, the New Year still has some good news for those who want to see a better deal for women.

First, the co-ed prison.

According to director-general Natee Jitsawang of the Corrections Department, the Chaibadan Prison in Lopburi province will be the country's first co-ed prison where female inmates can finally share the prison's training and educational facilities with their male counterparts.

At present, he said, female inmates in the provinces are detained in a small area of the prisons and denied training and other services because the buildings where these activities take place are in the more spacious men's quarters.

At most prisons, the number of male inmates much outnumber the females. But in the pilot project at Chaibadan, the number of men and women inmates will be balanced out to ensure equal access to services. Although detained in separate quarters, they will be allowed to use the common spaces together during the day.

Amid a shortage of male guards, the Corrections Department will spearhead the use of female guards for night shifts. Before, they were exempted from this.

The co-ed prison, he said, will not only be in line with gender equality, it will also help relieve the inmates' tensions, improve behaviour and reduce homosexual activities.

Some women's groups have expressed scepticism over whether Thai prisons are ready for such an experiment and if they are equipped to tackle new problems that come with a co-ed facility. Yet it is undeniable that the women inmates will benefit from the much-needed occupational training and the more humane environment which will better prepare them for a return to normal life.

Next, the nurses.

If they feel they are slaves in the patriarchal medical profession, it is because they are precisely that.

A primarily female profession, the nurses' indoctrination of selfless service and quiet endurance reflects the patriarchal value in society that subjugates women.

In the medical profession, nurses are not only required to dutifully serve the physicians, who are mostly men, they are also kept down professionally and robbed of equal welfare benefits. Good women and good nurses, they are told, should not be demanding.

They have been buying this nonsense for far too long. Early this month, some 3,000 community nurses gathered at the Public Health Ministry to demand work security, career advancement and equal welfare benefits.

Among their demands: Employ the 6,000 community nurses who have long been slaving full time so they can receive work and welfare benefits instead of continuing to be exploited as non-regulars. Give the nurses the same rate of overtime and hardship post compensation long enjoyed by the doctors, pharmacists and dentists at community hospitals. And lastly, give nurses professional advancement.

Nurses are the major force which drives the primary health care engine across the country. Given the shortage of physicians and the nurses' extensive field experience, ever wonder why they have not received any professional support to do more primary health care work as well as to screen patients for medical specialists? Ever wonder why nurses are kept at the lowest rung of health personnel with little work prospects?

The nurses' recent protest is not their first. Three years ago, the Public Health Ministry promised to help the nurses who toil without formal employment. This time, they also received another promise.

The nurses must think more seriously about why they are often lied to. They must also find out what really keeps nurses down in the public health system? Just the usual bureaucratic glitches? Or is it the deep-rooted patriarchy which keeps physicians at the apex of power without being challenged?

If not, their protests will continue to be responded to with endless lies.

The Abhisit government's decision not to register new migrant workers is a mistake that only serves abusive employers and corrupt police.

It also shows that the present government's awareness of human rights and understanding of the migrant labour problems is close to zero.

Remember the mass suffocation tragedy last April when 54 Burmese migrant workers suffocated to death in a crammed cold-storage truck while being smuggled into Thailand? This would not have happened if we had a registration system that worked.

But instead of making it simpler, cheaper and easier for the workers to receive health and other welfare benefits to encourage more registration, successive governments have stuck with the punishing system to discourage newcomers.

Since paying high registration fees does not guarantee any protection from police extortion and labour abuse, the majority of migrant workers prefer to remain underground, thus keeping the human trafficking rackets alive and well with support from corrupt police.

The poor registration system also explains why the number of documented migrant workers has been falling over the years. In 2004, there were more than one million migrant workers seeking registration. Last year, the number of registered workers dropped to 500,000 while it is estimated that there are more than two million migrant workers in the country.

It is bad enough to leave the faulty system as it is. But to stop registering new migrant workers altogether? This will only worsen the situation of human trafficking and labour abuse. Too bad the Abhisit government cannot see that.

False fear is again to blame.

According to a high-ranking labour official, Cabinet decided against the registration of new migrant workers out of fear that they would steal Thai jobs amid the sagging economy and soaring unemployment.

This is a big misunderstanding, said Sompong Srakaew, an advocate of migrant labour rights. Most migrant workers are actually doing the difficult, dirty and dangerous work shunned by Thais. Last year, for example, when Samut Sakhon province advertised for 150,000 jobs in fishery-related jobs, only about 120 Thai nationals applied, he said. The jobs were taken up by migrant workers, mostly the ethnic Mon who had fled harsh poverty and persecution from Burma.

The Cyclone Nargis tragedy will definitely increase cross-border migration, given the vast destruction of Burma's rice bowl, the Irrawaddy Delta, and the junta's paltry efforts to assist its own citizens.

The lack of legal status will heighten their fear of deportation, forcing them to put up with slave-like working conditions and police extortion. When they fall ill they will have no choice but to endure, or to turn to quacks. For migrant women, rape is one of their greatest risks, particularly those working as household help. Most victims, however, will be too fearful to press charges and risk further abuse at the police station, thus allowing the abusers to enjoy impunity. Meanwhile, the underground migrant children, robbed of the right to an education, will grow up to become another generation of modern slaves to serve Thailand's insatiable hunger for cheap labour.

Sadly, they cannot expect much sympathy or assistance. Most Thais, having been brainwashed by our ultra-nationalistic history, view migrant workers as potential criminals and Burma as Thailand's traditional enemy.

All this does Thailand no good. Economically, failing labour standards means the export orders will go elsewhere. Morally, turning a blind eye to migrant workers' suffering exposes our own heartlessness. Meanwhile resentment, alienation, lack of education and life opportunities will make migrant youths a social time-bomb.

Only the employers and the police are happy to cash in on the illegality of the migrant workforce.

Registration is the first step to undo these labour knots. By refusing to register new migrant workers, the Democrat-led government has failed miserably to honour labour rights and humanity.

It seems our national politics are back to its nam nao business as usual. What a relief!

We may detest our politicians for putting their self interests first before the nation. We may abhor their blatant greed and total lack of ethics. But the nightmare we've just been through should make everyone realise the danger of impatience and moral superiority under an illusion that politics can be easily cleaned up by just removing one single evil person from the scene.

Nam nao money politics should never be condoned. The question now is how to change it when the reckless haste to purify money politics leads to blinding hatred, violence and the country in ruins.

It is like burning the whole house down just to get rid of a few dirty rats.

Don't be fooled, however, by the semblance of normalcy at the moment; it will most likely be short-lived given Thaksin Shinawatra's fierce determination to spend his last baht to return to power.

His well-fed henchmen who oversee the red-shirted army have already declared they won't quit until their nai yai, the big boss, is back to control the game.

Does that mean democracy and peace will continue to elude us?

Most likely, if we insist on blaming everything on corrupt politicians without seeing our own failure to fix social inequality, worsened by our own blind pursuit for money and material possessions that hurts Mother Nature and the rural folks' livelihoods.

Face it, money politics will never go away as long as the patron-client system is alive and well.

When rural folk vote for their patrons' choices, it is only simplistic to blame their decision on greed. More often than not, they do it not for money, but for future protection.

Face it, ours is still a society marked by inequality, lawlessness and the corrupt police system. When you are in trouble, the law can be bent in one's favour when one has the right connections.

Moreover, upsetting your patrons means risking their wrath and that could put you in a difficult situation. Can we then blame the rural folks for keeping the ties?

This doesn't mean there is no hope.

Democracy is not just about a ballot box game. It is also about having a say in policies that affect one's communities and livelihoods. It is also about being able to take charge to solve community problems together.

And there is a lot of hope on the ground.

Community leaders across the country recently met at the Thailand Research Fund conference to share how they have changed their communities for the better through the power of knowledge.

No, we are not talking about textbook knowledge or university degrees, but about knowledge from real-life experiences.

Many villagers are tired of seeing university "acharns" come to study them in their home villages, using information about the villagers and the communities to advance their theories, and then leave.

So they make their own research a communal effort to investigate their community problems, to set priorities, to locate obstacles, and to identify the players and the necessary process involved to redress the situations.

At Nong Sua, Prachuap Khiri Khan, such community action research has helped ease conflicts between farmers and wild elephants.

At Nong Or, Ratchaburi, it led to the setting up of a community savings group to ease the problem of indebtedness.

At Ampawa, Samut Songkram, the research based on local knowledge finally won acceptance from irrigation authorities on how to operate cement weirs without destroying coastal ecology.

At Huay Hom, Phrae, the indigenous Mlabri hunter-and-gatherers are setting up a writing system to record their history and culture to guard their human dignity and cultural identity.

Knowledge is power. Not waiting for the urban elite to recognise their experiential knowledge, these village folk have taken change into their own hands.

This is how real democracy grows.

This is what all Bangkok governor candidates must do before trying to sell us any of their fancy ideas on improving the Big Mango.

Day one: Wear a cast to immobilise one of your legs, use crutches to walk, then go to work or do your errands.

Day two: Try to do the same thing in a wheelchair and see how far you can go from your place.

Day three: Cover your eyes with a mask, or wear a pair of thick spectacles to blur your view. Grab a cane, and walk on Bangkok's notorious footpaths for at least three kilometres.

Day four: When hungry, eat only at food stalls in wet markets. To relieve yourself, do so only in toilets at temples, wet markets, state hospitals or bus and train stations.

Day five: Pedal your bicycle to the Bangkok Post for an interview on how you would make Bangkok friendlier for people of all ages, including those with special physical needs and for health- and environment-conscious cyclists.

One simple reason why Bangkok's footpaths are forever ridden with dangerous potholes is because those who run Bangkok do not walk the streets like us mere mortals.

That is also why Bangkok's buildings, public spaces and transport remain unfriendly - and even dangerous - to the elderly and people with physical constraints.

The calls for handrails, elevators, clear signs, appropriately sloped pathways and cleaner and safer public toilets have been ignored because our Bangkok policy-makers do not have to use these public facilities.

Moreover, their big egos have led them to believe that they will never get old. Even when they do, they still can buy themselves first-class services which keep them in a cocoon of comfort and convenience.

Isn't that maddening?

There is only one way to make those aspiring to be Bangkok governor understand our needs. We have to force them to be in our shoes, to struggle with Bangkok the way we do, for at least a few days.

Let's be more ambitious. Let's make it a rule that a Bangkok governor must go to work by public transport so he/she does not lose touch with the daily realities of ordinary people.

We like to portray our society as being blessed with Buddhist compassion and respect for the aged. This may be true on a personal basis. But when it comes to public facilities, the city is simply heartless to the aged and those who have problems with physical mobility.

Today, one out of every 10 Thais is over 60. The number will be two out of 10 just 15 years from now. The majority in Thailand's greying society will be women. Yet, there is little sign from the city administration to make Bangkok friendlier to the elderly, particularly the grandmas.

According to Asst Prof Trairat Jarutach, the Thai Gerontology Research and Development Institute recently did a survey to see how safe and user-friendly Bangkok buildings and public spaces are for the elderly. The result is distressing.

Government buildings passed only one criteria: the door.

The wet markets, the place grandmas frequently visit, do not pass any criteria. They are also considered dangerous due to slippery floors and unhygienic surroundings.

State hospitals, public parks and the post offices also failed most tests. The private sector did a bit better. Though much is left to be desired, public transport stations fared best, followed by shopping malls.

Temples, the supposed refuge of the aged, also failed most elderly-friendly criteria. Additionally, while public toilets are generally bad, temple toilets are horrible.

Thailand is getting rapidly grey while the young work force is struggling with a myriad problems, ranging from sub-standard education and work skills, high-risk behaviour and Aids, to premature death. It is therefore important to help the elderly remain economically active.

But if the aged prefer not to, it is not because they do not want to work. It is simply because Bangkok for the elderly is too dangerous.

Rare indeed is good news from the restive South. Here is one item which represents a glimmer of hope for the seemingly elusive peace.

And if the same thing is taking place in other parts of the country, it might help pull us back from the senseless and violent feud over what democracy is or what it should be.

For the locals, the democracy they want is not what is defined by the warring elite in Bangkok; it is participatory democracy on the ground which respects local realities and concerns.

And when that happens, the healing power is tremendous.

That was what occurred in Narathiwat recently. Smiles were all around at a mosque in Narathiwat's Bacho district, where some 30 villagers were receiving land title deeds in a ceremony presided over by top government officials.

It was a happy ending after over four decades of local bitterness against the autocratic zoning of the Budo-Sungai Padi National Park, which "stole" the villagers' land and community forests.

For the ethnic Malay Muslim villagers who live close to nature there, the land plots in question belong to them, where their ancestors grew fruit and other indigenous trees they use for food and timber. The trees have over time grown and flourished into lush, forest-like orchards.

For the forestry authorities, the Bacho villagers had no title deeds for the land they claimed, so the area must belong to the Forestry Department in accordance with the forestry law, which is written by the Forestry Department itself.

Moreover, the law prohibits any human activities inside national parks. Anyone caught breaking a branch or even a twig is considered a criminal and must be sent to jail for encroaching on the forest. That was exactly what happened to many Bacho villagers when they wanted to harvest their fruits or cut down their old rubber trees.

You can imagine the local anger.

Land rights conflicts in national parks are not exclusive to the deep South. It is a source of suffering for more than one million farming families nationwide. This has given rise to the community forest movements. But after more than 25 years of local struggle, nothing moved due to the authorities' fierce resistance to the villagers' constitutional rights to co-manage the forests.

In the deep South, land rights conflicts with the government are among the grievances behind the southern violence which feeds on local resentment against unfair top-down control and cultural hegemony from a Buddhist state.

There are reportedly more than 6,000 families in Yala, Narathiwat and Pattani whose lands were taken over by the Budo-Sungai Padi National Park. With their calls for land rights often landing them in prison on charges of forest encroachment, can we blame them if they sympathise with the separatists?

Amid intensifying violence, the government finally decided to right the wrong. In a pilot project at Bacho, the villagers were allowed to participate in field surveys to prove their land ownership. The land title deeds were consequently issued for the original owners.

"This is democracy at work," said Muslim community leader and farmer Dueramae Darama. "It also shows the state's sincerity in solving our problems."

Although only 36 Bacho villagers have got their lands back, the government's promise to conduct similar surveys to settle land rights conflicts in other districts has injected new hope for peace.

But however crucial people's participation in resources management is, we still cannot dismiss the dimension of ethnic and religious identity behind the southern Muslims' drive for self-determination, which has turned ugly and violent against state discrimination and suppression.

Despite policy compromise from Bangkok, many southern Muslims still question why they have to wait for mercy from Bangkok.

Returning land to its rightful owners is a step in the right direction. But the road ahead is definitely long and rugged, short of real political decentralisation.

For the southern Muslims, democracy is the ability to chart their own course of change in accordance with their cultural way of life. And if democracy is still elusive in the deep South, so is peace there.

One of our national problems that has been swept under the carpet because of the preoccupation with the current political crisis is our education system.

With a high youth literacy rate and a primary school attendance ratio at 98%, you might feel there is nothing to worry about. But sighing with relief will be our big mistake.

Although the constitution ensures every child's right to a free 12-year education, many are still falling through the cracks. And that starts early; only 88% of primary school pupils make it to lower secondary and a mere 69% to higher secondary. It is the same pattern when the pupils move up the education pyramid.

The issue here is not about the quality of education for the children who can afford it. It is about a serious lack of access for those who cannot - even though compulsory education is supposed to be free.

According to a recent study by Thai Education Watch Network, more than 1.3 million children still do not have access to compulsory education. They are primarily poor children from ethnic minorities along the borders as well as those in the restive deep South, and immigrant children. Other vulnerable groups include street children, slum children and those who live in very remote villages.

The network's in-depth study of 1,200 households in 50 communities reveals only 51% of these needy children are enrolled in primary schools, and only 33% of them finish it. As for those who could make it to the secondary school level, only half of them finish. Meanwhile, as many as 15% of these children do not have any schooling at all.

Why is that?

It is not only because their families are poor. Probably more important is the poor management of the national education system.

To start with, free compulsory education is only free in the letter of the law; the state schools are poorly funded and are in dire need of extra cash. Parents still have to pay for books, stationary, sports and scout uniforms, computer classes and the so-called "donations".

The Education Ministry pretends this is not happening while the parents turn their anger towards the schools, believing that the whole thing means corruption. For many poor children, it means having to forego schooling altogether or dropping out mid-way.

Also problematic is the Education Ministry's policy to close small community schools and to build secondary and high schools in bigger communities only. This forces children to leave their villages or travel a long distance, which entails high transportation expenses, to pursue higher education.

Take the Moken, or sea gypsy children, on Ko Payam Island in Ranong province. They must travel by boat across the sea to study. But when it rains, when the boats do not come, or when they do not have the fees, they just have to skip school. It is why out of 20 school-age children there, only six still go to classes.

 How to help these children?

Beside the money issue, it is obvious that the uniform, mainstream education system - being fat, bureaucratic, inflexible, and out of touch with local realities - cannot meet local needs. Meanwhile, these poor children do not need the standard, Bangkok-based education that robs them of their cultural roots.

Many educators believe more state support for non-governmental or community groups to manage local education can better answer different needs on the ground. Yet, there remains many more questions that the Education Ministry must answer.

Like how to make free education really free, how to support schools better financially and technologically, and how to improve the quality of vocational education so that university degrees are not the only tickets to good, satisfying jobs.

Unless this happens, more children will fall through the cracks, left on their own to struggle aimlessly, while the exploitation of children continues no end.

When the legendary newsman Sanpasiri Viriyasiri tried to broadcast what was happening when the police and militia stormed Thammasat University during the October 6, 1976 massacre, he was immediately fired.

Thirty-two years on, we now can watch the state's crackdown right in our living rooms live, and up to the minute.

So, if you are thinking out of frustration that the Oct 7 crackdown shows that our country is still stuck in the same political vicious cycle, and that all the previous efforts to end autocracy have been wasted, don't despair.

An open society is mandatory for democracy. We might be unhappy with many things in our country, but we cannot deny that ours is now a much more open society.

So take heart.

That the Oct 7 crackdown occurred 135 days after the anti-Thaksin protest started also shows that we have come a long way.

Three decades ago, the powers-that-be would not have wasted any time. We would certainly have seen more people killed and a lot of buildings and buses burned by a "third hand" to create a sense of anarchy before the military marched in.

The Sept 19, 2006 coup has taught us not to trust the military's vow of staying out of politics. Yet, the military's current extreme caution to appear politically correct is an important change that we cannot ignore.

The rumour mills no longer can spill their poisons to instigate violence as seriously as before, thanks to the more open media environment. The media's reports on the violence from both sides also help us to see the conflict in perspective and to form our own judgement amid the political divisiveness.

For example, we can dismiss as mere lies the insistence of the police that they had used only tear gas to disperse the crowd, because we have seen what happened to the protesters on our TV screens.

The scene when police hit the peaceful crowd in front of the Metropolitan Police Bureau with a barrage of tear gas, also came across clearly as excessive use of force, which must be condemned.

Meanwhile, how can we agree with some protesters' use of guns and sharp items as weapons?

How can we condone the sabre-rattling rhetoric of the protest leaders, who keep urging their followers to end Thaksin's - and his cronies' - rule at all costs?

We should be thankful for this ambivalence because it allows the silent majority's cry for non-violence to grow louder.

You may wonder why I am talking about positive changes when our country seems to be on the brink of anarchy.

It is because staying positive and being firm in our belief in non-violent change is the only way to prevent ourselves from being engulfed by the seemingly hopeless political situation.

Remaining positive is also what we should do when faced with a problem, if we want to call ours a Buddhist country.

Buddhism teaches us that change and inter-connectedness is the universal law that prevails for all. So if we want to initiate change, we must put the required factors in place.

If we want our democracy to go beyond the ballot-box ritual, we must understand that we cannot do away with money politics if the patron-client system which thrives on structural inequality remains intact.

Political decentralisation, land reform, progressive taxation, comprehensive state welfare. These are some of the measures necessary to bridge inequality as well as the rural-urban gap.

Another mandatory factor is the rule of law. Again, short of police reform, we cannot end police corruption and abuse of power.

If we see the authoritarian culture as our biggest stumbling block to democracy, the place to begin is our heart. Democracy cannot exist where there is no basic respect for human rights and dignity.

There are so many things to do to make our soil fertile for democracy to grow. We cannot bury ourselves in hopelessness. We must think of our children. We must not lose heart.

What makes us proud of our country? At the Education Ministry, our patriotism is judged by how much we can memorise national history in textbooks as sacred fact written in stone.

That is why they are extremely worried about the future of patriotism here.

Despite the emphasis on rote learning to enforce conformity and to kill a questioning mind, the education authorities believe our children still cannot parrot well enough.

The future is bleak when many students still do not know about Pantai Norasingh, a popular folk hero who symbolises loyalty to the monarchy. Worse, the educators lament, many still do not know about King Naresuan who freed the Thais from Burmese rule.

The protracted save-the-country theatre at Government House does not convince these bigwigs that there is no shortage of ultra-nationalism here.

The spiralling southern violence cannot make them see that the crux of the problem lies in their version of nationalism, which states that only the dominant Buddhist Thais own the country. Nor can they see that if they insist on pushing this down the throats of the ethnic Malay Muslims, peace will remain out of reach.

Hence their plan to make children across the country parrot more of what they define as national history, what they equate as patriotism, which boils down to a dangerous racist nationalism in a conflict-ridden society where respect for cultural plurality remains indispensible for peace.

When I told my 12-year-old daughter of the Education Ministry's plans for her history classes next year, she screamed at the idea.

"Why do they want to put us through more boring hours? Why do they think we will love the country by remembering about battles, blood and death? Why is history so full of killing and scary events? What is the point of making us remember so many difficult names and dates? I just don't see any use of it."

Playing devil's advocate, I said we need to know about historical roots to know who we are so we can move forward confidently. The boredom may stem from how history classes are conducted, I suggested.

She defended her teacher vehemently. "We're allowed to do open-book quiz in class, which is fun. But the materials are boring."

"So what do you want to learn?" I pressed.

Civilisations, she said. Old civilisations in all parts of the world. How the pyramids were built, for example. When I pointed out that pyramids are not Thai, she just shrugged her shoulders.

When I asked if she wanted to learn how different geographical landscapes shaped different cultures and civilisations, how an ancient civilisation based on the salt industry in the Isan Plateau rose and fell, how it was replaced by principalities in the river basins which prospered from rain-fed rice cultivation, how different ethnicities in the region lived alongside one another since prehistoric times in this region and, closer to home, how true it was that Bangkok's roots were essentially Chinese - she cut me short.

"Anything, mummy. Anything is better than what it is now."

However boring, ultra-nationalism has still succeeded in seeping in to poison kids' minds. My daughter, for one, truly believes that Thailand once owned parts of our neighbouring countries, making us the greatest in this region.

"Because the textbooks say so."

Like most Thais, she feels Burma is fierce and heartless, Cambodia cannot be trusted and Laos is inferior to Thailand - because the history textbooks teach her so.

And since national history only has room for ethnic Buddhists, she considers it an alien notion that other ethnic minorities must have equal rights to the dominant ethnic Thais in a democratic society.

She is only 12, I told myself. If others can rise above such ugly nationalism to understand how it makes us cruel and heartless, my girl can do it too, one day.

The Education Ministry may want to tighten the chains of racist nationalism, but any mother who cares for her children's humanity and peace in an increasingly tense multi-cultural world, will never give up the fight for it.

Neither will I.

A mass prayer from the clergy. An appeal for non-violence from reformist monks. An army of cooks and cleaners from a fundamentalist Buddhist sect.

Don't say that religion and politics should not mix. This popular misconception is just that, a misconception. The challenge now is how to make our conflict-ridden society return to its senses through the ancient wisdom of Buddhism.

Fear of bloodshed from the current political divisiveness has triggered a flurry of petitions and activities from civic groups to stem violence. Such a fear is so widely shared that even our conservative, pro-establishment clergy feels it must do something to intervene.

And they've done it the only way they know how - by staging a mass prayer which also made a good photo op.

Apart from the chanting in ancient Pali (which most of us do not understand a word of), we did not hear anything else from the elders. A group of reformist monks and nuns took a step further by making a public appeal for non-violence.

 All sides should refrain from violent speech including the use of rude words, half-truths and demonisation because they instigate violence. All sides should also refrain from arming themselves with weapons, to make non-violent political assembly possible, they pleaded.

Whether their moves are sufficient or not, their message for peace and the need to transcend anger and hatred - the root cause of violence - is true to Buddhism. Which is why what Santi Asoke is doing at Government House sticks out like a sore thumb.

With all due respect, Santi Asoke has done much to make Thai Buddhism relevant again amid today's excessive consumerism. Its advocacy of a back-to-nature and self-reliant community is a critique against the authoritarian clergy lost in materialism and power play, as well as an effort to offer a solution to the environmental degradation and moral bankruptcy.

As the backbone of the protests, the so-called dharma army from Santi Asoke has been stoically doing the cooking and cleaning for the People's Alliance for Democracy.

Why? Many doubt the political motives of Phra Bhodhirak, Santi Asoke's leader, given his bitter feuds with the mainstream clergy which ostracised him and his sect. The simple answer, however, is his longstanding ties with Maj-Gen Chamlong Srimuang, one of the core leaders of PAD.

Believing that politics must embrace religious morality, Santi Asoke has been with Maj-Gen Chamlong through thick and thin, from his campaigns for Bangkok governor, his establishment of the Palang Dharma party and now, his drive to get rid of money politics.

Phra Bhodhirak has argued in the Santi Asoke newsletter that he must support the PAD because it is in the right. Politics, he added, is essentially about serving and liberating people, which is what Buddhism set outs to do.

He can say anything and, given Santi Asoke's military-like emphasis on discipline, his followers will follow wherever he leads.

It pained me to see the devout Buddhists of Santi Asoke stoically doing the heavy chores while being unable to utter a word to question the PAD core leaders' demonisation tactics to stir up anger, hatred and to whip up moral superiority to legitimise violence.

Can't they see that all this is against Buddhist teachings?

How to avoid the crisis of divisiveness through Buddhist wisdom? Ironically, we had to hear this from a lay person, Seksan Prasertkul, former student activist and communist insurgent, and not from the elders.

If we understand the Buddhist concept of void, he said, we will know that dichotomy, such as the division of people into good and bad, is a form of extremism that must be transcended.

Voidness, he said, is the state void of separate self, because all are relative and dynamically shaped by inter-related forces into different forms at different phases. As such, all are inter-connected and one in the stream of change.

Wait a minute. If all is one, does that mean the self-righteous PAD can become as dictatorial and power-clinging when anger, hatred and greed are their masters, like their political foes?

The answer is chilling.

Take a deep breath. Watch it leave the nostrils. Watch it come back in. Feel the sensation. See the difference. Watch the constant change. Try do it for at least 10 minutes to let the calm set in.

Indeed, we need to instil our inner calm more than ever to prevent ourselves from getting carried away in the emotional rollercoaster of our dangerously unpredictable politics.

As the nation sinks deeper into political divisiveness, we also need to build inner strength that will help pull us out of the quagmire of hatred and violence.

We Thais like to claim that we are peace-loving Buddhists. Yet, we've blown it many times before with violent clashes and crackdowns in previous political crises. Whether or not we fail again this time around, depends very much on how Buddhist we really are.

Forget our political leadership that has no sense of shame. Forget money politics, authoritarian bureaucracy, destructive development policies, and the unjust social structures that perpetuate oppression and suffering on the ground.

Not that they are not important. On the contrary.

Those are the sources of conflict rooted in our society's inequality and moral breakdown. They are also powerful forces ready to destroy anyone in their way. That is why we need to be well-equipped mentally for the challenge.

Samak Sundaravej or not, new general elections or not, we will certainly slide into the same political instability again, if the root causes of injustice are not fixed.

To fix them without being overwhelmed by anger and greed of the moment, however, we need to build within ourselves a deep reservoir of calm.

We need an insight that all things - including ourselves, our perceived enemies and our imperfect world - are under the same laws of interconnectedness and change. That we are under the same cycle of samsara of birth, old age, illness and death.

More importantly, we need to learn the art of letting go. Not only of status and possessions, but also of our beliefs and the false sense of self or ego.

Otherwise, in our quest for change, we will be lost in greed, anger, hatred and a sense of moral superiority - which have turned countless ideologues into fascists.

As Buddhists, the first step towards cultivating calm and insight is by returning to ourselves, our breath.

By mindfully observing our breathing and change in body sensation, we will realise by ourselves the power of our own thoughts; how mild feelings can spiral out of control into strong and violent emotions when we let ourselves get swept away in the stream of thoughts that are rooted in past resentment and fear for the future.

We will also find how illusive our thoughts are; how they change from one matter to another by themselves without any logical sequence; and how they stop so suddenly when our awareness catches them.

It is the same with emotions. Watch them mindfully to see how they arise, subside and pass away. Watch them flare up again when triggered by thoughts or words loaded by values, prejudices, hopes and fears, only to pass away again.

Like all things, emotions do not last. They change when conditions change. Such is the law of impermanence.

Such insight miraculously fills us with hope and loving kindness. Through experiencing the constant flux of change within, we know for certain that there is no such thing as a dead end. All is subject to change. And we can influence the change and steer clear of hurting others by being mindful of our thoughts, our words and our actions.

The current political crisis boils down to a clash of burning anger, greed and hatred. The structural inequality and injustice that sustains it also boils down to greed, anger and attachment to ego, from not knowing that nothing lasts.

If we are true Buddhists, if we want real change through peace, we must open our hearts, welcome differences and change with loving kindness.

Start with mindfulness.

Start with ourselves.

Take a deep breath.

How will this end? Will there be blood? If you did not go to sleep with these questions the day the People's Alliance for Democracy plunged the country into political turmoil, then you are blessed with a steely spirit.

Or you must be an avid fan of TV Channels 3, 5 and 7.

Unperturbed by the real drama on Bangkok streets, they faithfully aired their scheduled programmes _ soap operas, game shows and all.

The political lethargy of commercial television. The premier's demand that the media take his side or be judged as pro-PAD; the PAD's belief that its seizure of NBT was a justified lesson against the government's TV mouthpiece; the bouncing back of NBT, thanks to communications technology, to continue their anti-PAD coverage -- all this is challenging the press' principle of neutrality.

The biggest challenge is perhaps the PAD's rise to power through media tycoon Sondhi Limthongkul's use of his Manager newspaper and ASTV, the news website and satellite TV station.

If you want neutrality from the PAD, forget it. If you want rational discussion, forget it. 

But if you want ideological legitimacy and a sense of pride and empowerment, that ordinary people like you can ''save'' the country _ and most importantly the revered monarchy _ from the evils of Thaksin Shinawatra's rule, then the Manager Group, which has broken all neutrality rules, fits the bill. 

Is it because media neutrality has become an outdated notion now that society has become too fragmented? 

Or is it because the news organisations have failed in their duty to make the public believe that neutrality exists, thus forcing people to turn to those who understand their anxieties and fears, as well as their yearning for ideology and change?

It is too easy just to pin the blame on the Manager Group's political motives. 

It would also be ungrateful not to recognise the PAD's many achievements in exposing the Thaksin regime's fishy businesses _ something which mainstream media largely failed to do. 

Admit it, the mainstream news media has been no match for Mr Thaksin, given his popularity, media savvy, total control of state media and wide-reaching power over advertising money. 

That changed when media tycoon Sondhi Limthongkul and his Manager Group became a match for Thaksin. 

How Mr Sondhi and the PAD have misused popular support to whip up hatred and danger of violence through racist and royal nationalism, is another matter, however. 

One privilege of my having grey hair has been the chance to watch changes in journalism over the years. 

The early generation of journalists were primarily intellectuals and free-spirited fighters against military dictatorship. 

Despite the poor income and unstable career, journalists enjoyed public respect because their dream for justice and democracy struck a chord with the populace. 

As politics and the economy opened up, the mass media grew to become big business. Ironically, the more stable journalism became as a profession, the more was the media's tendency to play safe to protect business interests at the cost of the ideology of old. 

Reporting anger from the ground against state and business power, for example, is seen as one-sided. Giving meaning to the news is seen as losing neutrality. 

Most newsrooms are happy with ping-pong journalism, unable to tell readers what is really going on. Media neutrality is reduced to mean merely quoting both supporters and opponents. 

With the public's hunger for truth, ideology and change unmet by the watchdogs, is it people's fault if they turned to the PAD's rousing rhetoric? 

What is happening at the Government House boils down to a clash of elite interests which won't lead to any structural changes for a just society. And no matter how the conflict ends, the challenge for media will continue. 

With the internet revolution, citizen journalism and explosion of blogs, there will be plenty of opinions and little room for facts and neutrality. If the media do not understand their role and public expectations, remain stuck in business interests and overlook the anxieties and fears of ordinary people, they will have no power to counter such demagogues as Thaksin Shinawatra and Sondhi Limthongkul.

As a mother, the news that grabbed my attention over the weekend had nothing to do with the politics that are near the boiling point. It was about a boy gang rape.
A nightmare for any parent, the incident involved three boys, aged 8, 11 and 12, raping a 7-year-old girl neighbour.
The boys said they just wanted to copy the porn they saw in the Internet shop. They are now staying at a remand home where social workers have yet to decide whether they should be returned to their poor parents, who cannot provide them proper care.
The news focus is on the boys as an indicator of the moral decline in society. Nothing has been said about the need to help the girl overcome the rape trauma.
This horrifying news came on the heels of a Thammasat University sex scandal involving a male lecturer who offered a girl student better grades in exchange for oral sex.
To terrify us parents further, the newspapers told us the next day that a 4-year-old girl had been raped by her step-uncle.
These horrifying news reports have triggered several demands from so-called experts. Among them: Get tough with Internet shops. Get rid of porn. Tell parents to shape up.
This is blaming the victims. 
Where can poor kids in Bangkok go when the government fails to give them recreational facilities?
How can poor parents keep close watch on their children when they have to struggle to make ends meet?
How can the boys know rape is a heinous crime when the hottest soap opera on TV now says rape is okay, when the law allows rapists to get away with murder by marrying the victims, and when men in authority rarely get punished for their sexual crimes?
What to do to protect our girls? I was pondering this question while waiting for my daughter in front of her ballet class.
My thoughts were broken by a shriek from a women beside me.
“What are you chewing?,” she shouted at her little niece who became white as paper. “Who gave you the sweets? Haven’t I told you time and time again never to take any treats from strangers? Do you want to be drugged and never return home again?”
Startled by her own loud voice, she turned to me and mumbled apologetically. “You know how dangerous it is nowadays, don’t you?"
I nodded, feeling deeply guilty. It’s wrong rob our children’s of trust in others. But haven’t I, too, told my girl not to trust the world in order to protect her?
I remember the incredible peace I felt while sitting all alone in the fields, spellbound by the world of plants when I was a little girl. Or when I was mesmerised by the ever-changing clouds in the skies as I walked home alone from school.
Would I allow my little girl to go out in the fields or to walk home alone now?
Never.
Am I robbing my girl of the precious solitude that is an important bridge to our inner self?
Sorry, love. But the way society is going now, mums have no choice.

Like most Thais, I believed that there have never been female monks, or Bhikkhuni, in Thailand. How I was wrong!

The person who opened my eyes was Ayya Tathaaloka Bhikkhuni, a Buddhist teacher and abbess of the Dhammadharini Vihara, a temple for female monastics in Fremont, California.

As a scholar on Bhikkhuni history and Vinaya, Ayya Tathaaloka Bhikkhuni has done an extensive research on female ordination in Southeast Asia. So when I wrote in one of my articles that Thailand, unlike Sri Lanka, had never had a Bhikkhuni clergy, she kindly emailed me to tell a different story.

Contrary to mainstream belief, there is much evidence about the Bhikkhuni clergy in old Siam and nearby countries from the 3rd century BC up to modern times, she said.

The oldest document, dating back to the Ashokan period, states that a mission led by Arahanta Theras Sona and Uttara travelled to Suvarnabhumi where they ordained "3,500 men and 1,500 women, establishing the Buddhadhamma".

This important historical journey is recorded in the Pali texts as well as in the ancient Sri Lankan chronicles, which were later translated into Chinese.

The Chinese version, in particular, specifies that the 3,500 noblemen were ordained as Bhikkhu and the 1,500 noblewomen as Bhikkhuni.

Closer to home, this historical Buddhist mission also appears in the old records of Nakhon Si Thammarat, believed by many to be the entry point of Buddhism into our region.

This is exciting information. Powerful information.

You see, the clergy's main argument against female ordination is that we never had Bhikkhuni in Thailand. They also argue that since the Theravada Bhikkhuni lineage has been long extinct, it is impossible to have Bhikkhuni in the Thai Theravada clergy.

No need asking the clergy to ordain women. They insist that a legitimate female ordination, according to the monastic discipline, must be performed both by monks and Bhikkhuni.

The clergy's arguments, however, crumble with historical evidence of the Ashokan Buddhist mission. They not only show that we used to have Bhikkhuni, they also confirm that dual ordination is not necessary where Bhikkhuni does not exist, that monks alone can ordain women to set up the Bhikkhuni clergy.

There's more. There are later ancient texts that make reference  to the existence of  Bhikkhuni in the Lanna and Sukhothai kingdoms. For example, there are old records in Lanna literature about two Bhikkhuni believed to be local women. There are also Sukhothai period evidence of Bhikkhuni who were ordained by monks alone, she said.

The Bhikkhuni Sangha in old Siam came to a halt when the Ayutthaya kingdom rose to power. "The previous Bhikkhu and Bhikkhuni Sangha was made to cease to exist for political reasons and a new Bhikkhu Sangha was founded with royal support," said Ayya Tathaaloka Bhikkhuni.

Her message: Don't say Thailand never had a Bhikkhuni clergy. To be precise, say Thailand has never had a Bhikkhuni Sangha, with dual ordination, established and supported by the monarchy, since the founding of the Kingdom of Ayutthaya.

Now we know.

If facts cannot dismantle the prejudice against female ordination, what can?