Thailand in the 21st century is replete with two things: images and firearms. There are more pictures of people in this country than actual people, thanks to selfies, whether at protest sites or elsewhere. Meanwhile guns, M79s and hand grenades are so ubiquitous that even peaceful protesters do not have to look far for one when they’re in need. That the police should carry so many live rounds despite Chalerm Yubumrung’s instruction not to is, unfortunately, no surprise, since Mr Chalerm couldn’t even keep his own son away from guns.
The role of images and firearms is back in popular discussion. Last year I made a documentary with two friends. Our subject was the two cameramen who went out to film the Oct 14, 1973 student uprising that ended with a military crackdown. Our purpose was to remember the two men, Chin Klaipan and Taweesak Wiriyasiri, and the historical footage they shot, possibly the only remaining visual record of that seminal event.
But four days ago, when you turned on your computer or smartphone and saw the dozen video clips of the clash between police and protesters at Pan Fah Bridge, you realised how this seminal event we’re living through is influenced by the power of moving images — unlike 40 years ago.
On Tuesday you stared transfixed at the harrowing video in which a man in a flag-patterned shirt was reduced to a wretched lump by gunshots, and at the super-slow motion clip, now fabled and contested, of a policeman kicking a grenade thrown (or dropped?) at his line of defence, and the subsequent, almost telegenic blast that resulted in the kicker almost losing his leg. I believe there are people who replayed the video over and over again, like I did, trying to locate a glimmer of fact, of truth, of revelation.
After watching all of these visual accounts spread online like a virus or poison or antidote, the question of how images are shaping our realities and how they play a role in our perception of conflict returns with a nagging sensation.
What distinguishes this current conflict (after the Sept 19 coup) from every one that came before is the profusion of instant visual records. While the conflicts of the past decades, say in the 70s, suffered from a dearth of visual information that would help viewers reflect on what happened, the clashes of our clip-saturated era suffer from the great fragmentation of realities.
The noble idea that image is truth, or a path towards truth, is tested by the relentless force of prejudice: We believe what we want to believe, and images have been exploited to confirm that belief and create multiple versions of reality.
So much "evidence" of the May 2010 riots has been circulated and replayed. It serves to incriminate or exculpate, depending on who shows the clips and who the audience is. Likewise with the clash at Laksi the day before the election, and the clip of the "popcorn shooter", a phantom made real by video clips. Yet who he is depends on what you want him to be.
The latest cases are two hot clips from the Pan Fah confrontation on Tuesday, both of them featuring policemen and explosives. The first, as mentioned, shows a riot policeman kicking an explosive object; if you sympathise with the mob, you perceive that the grenade had been unintentionally dropped by the police themselves, even though it’s easy to argue that the bomb had been rolled towards them by someone else with fatal intent.
The second clip, from CNN no less, gained momentum yesterday. It shows a fairly straightforward report of a street battle that doesn’t put the blame on any side. But partisan "analysts" seized the opportunity and laboured to use it to justify the claim that the police threw a grenade that accidentally bounced off a tent’s roof back at them, and thus acquit the "unknown armed elements" among protesters. ''Gotcha!'', the analysts claim, the police lied! This triumphant conclusion, which ignores the video’s shot changes which offer other interpretations, strays dangerously close to a lie itself.
Images are important, more important than firearms. But what we need now most urgently is visual literacy — the ability to doubt every image, to replay and raise questions, and to not wholeheartedly believe them just because they make us feel good about ourselves.
It will take years to dispel the prejudices we all have in our hearts, but if we can start a fight about something as simple as a three-minute video clip, then our bleak future is getting bleaker beyond rescue.
Images may not help you change your mind and start believing that your enemy is right, but at least they can help you start doubting that you may be wrong.
Kong Rithdee is Deputy Life Editor, Bangkok Post.