The ongoing distortion of election results and systematic subversion of the popular will in Thai politics raise questions of political legitimacy at home and abroad. By all accounts, the combined victory of the opposition Move Forward Party (MFP) and Pheu Thai appears unlikely to lead to their formation of a government. While many voters feel shortchanged by the power plays behind the scenes, what is happening to the MFP should behove the international community to draw a red line across which the eventual government outcome cannot be deemed democratically legitimate and credible in reflection of voter preferences.
By now, Thailand's semi-authoritarian political system should be readily obvious to observers worldwide. Elections can take place, but poll winners can only take office and complete a full term if they are backed by the established centres of power, which is enabled by the 2017 constitution that was passed in a referendum in August 2016 but was subsequently amended.
The 2017 charter is designed to deny the Thai electorate a final say. When it functioned behind the March 2019 poll, the allies of its drafters in the pro-military Palang Pracharath Party (PPRP) were able to take office despite coming in second behind Pheu Thai, thanks to key rulings of the Election Commission (EC) and the Constitutional Court that promoted tiny parties while disbanding the Pheu Thai-aligned Thai Raksa Chart Party and crippling the pro-reform Future Forward Party until dissolving it altogether almost a year later.
Despite a myriad of corruption allegations and scandals of many shapes and forms on top of a lacklustre performance, the Prayut government lasted a full four-year term. It was backed by the junta-appointed Senate and flanked by the EC and Constitutional Court, along with the anti-corruption commission and other constitutionally mandated agencies that were stuffed with regime appointees. Had the incumbent PPRP and its offshoot, the United Thai Nation Party (UTN), fared well enough to form a coalition government, it most likely would last a full term again regardless of likely graft cases and incompetent governance.
But voters largely rejected these two pro-military parties. The PPRP and the UTN came up with just 40 and 36 out of the 500 elected assembly seats, compared to the MFP's 151 and the Pheu Thai Party's 141. On party popularity among voters, the PPRP scored just one party-list seat out of 100, with the UTN nabbing 13, while the MFP and Pheu Thai garnered 39 and 29, respectively.
In short, the pro-military parties lost pathetically, and the opposition won resoundingly.
Yet the political system from the coup era is gamed against popularly elected governments because the 250-member military-appointed Senate virtually has veto power over the premiership selection in the bicameral parliament. In addition, the EC and Constitutional Court have been working hand in glove to deny the MFP the parliamentary speakership, the premiership of its candidate and party leader, Pita Limjaroenrat, and the party's partnership in government.
The conditions to isolate and marginalise the MFP now appear to be part of a broader government formation deal that includes the return of self-exiled Pheu Thai founder and former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra. Once considered an enemy of the traditional power holders, Thaksin has suddenly become a useful ally in the face of the MFP's strident reform agenda.
The resulting government could thus turn out to be a grand coalition of old-style parties without the MFP and a reunion of sorts of parties and politicians who used to be under Pheu Thai and its predecessors, Thai Rak Thai and Palang Prachachon (People's Power). It is an ironic twist that these two Thaksin-aligned parties were dissolved by the Constitutional Court in 2007–08. Having been repeatedly victimised by the same kind of political subversion and manipulation, the Thaksin side is now a partner and acolyte of its perpetrators.
At issue now is whether the systematic isolation and marginalisation of the MFP are enough to satisfy the established centres of power. If the largest-winning party is relegated to the opposition, it can further institutionalise and function as a checks-and-balance mechanism the way it has been over the past three years.
Taking office is the best way to introduce and enact its reform programmes but being in opposition is second best as these reform ideas can still be broached and deliberated, even if they do not end up as legislation.
But if the MFP is removed because the party is perceived as an existential threat, the legitimacy and integrity of the whole election process would come into doubt. As it is the biggest poll winner, the MFP's dissolution would be akin to the second disbandment of its original Future Forward Party.
But this time, getting rid of the MFP would disenfranchise 14.4 million out of 39.4 million voters on the party-list ballot alone.
Although social unrest can be expected in such an outcome, the established centres of power in this country have no qualms supervising and calling the ultimate shots in Thai politics by all means at their disposal, from street demonstrations and military coups to judicial interventions, resulting in the dismantlement and disenfranchisement of major political parties and millions of voters over the past two decades.
If they do so again, the international community should not be fooled. If the MFP is brought down, Thai autocracy should be called out for what it is.