The newly revised Thai history textbook for high school students has sparked fresh questions -- not just about the qualifications of the authors, but whether it's time to move beyond ultranationalism in how we teach our past.
Education reform advocate and teacher Tanawat Suwannapan, a teacher known as "Kru Tiw" for his progressive approach, recently raised concerns about the qualifications and political leanings of some authors involved in the revision.
In social media posts, Tanawat questioned why the Education Ministry appointed ultraconservatives -- without academic training in history -- to shape how students understand the past.
Among them are a former national security soldier, a former ambassador, the dean of an eastern medicine college, and a statistician -- all with outspoken right-wing agendas.
History textbooks are never neutral. They are battlegrounds where political ideologies and national identity are defined, governed by political ideology, and branded as official knowledge to indoctrinate.
Among the changes in the new textbook, Tanawat reported, was about the October 6 Massacre. The old version merely said students were accused of being communist. The new version, however, says they actively supported the communist movement.
The revision, which intensifies right-wing stances, was also rushed through with little transparency, which should alarm anyone who values truths and the right to think, he added. Tanawat's criticisms reignited a long-running debate Thailand must address: What kind of history should we teach, and who gets to decide?
Thai history textbooks have long told a singular narrative: the country belongs to the Thai race, whose identity is tied to wars and royal conquests. This framework portrays Thailand's past as a story of dynasties and territorial wars, fostering animosity towards neighbouring countries, and treating ethnic groups as outsiders to justify state violence and discrimination.
But historical facts in such nationalist narratives have been questioned. In fact, these nationalistic views were responsive to Western colonisation threats in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
To prove Siam's sovereignty, the kingdom needed to show an unbroken line of "Thai" kingdoms, starting with Sukhothai.
Under military dictator Plaek Phibunsongkhram in the 1930s–40s, fascist state propaganda promoted a pan-Thai identity, changed the country's name from Siam to Thailand, and reinforced racial hegemony.
Time and the political system might have changed, but not these narratives. The textbooks still teaches that Thai race "owns" the land, fuelling systemic discrimination. As such, ethnic communities such as The Muslim-majority Deep South and Hill tribes in the north, for instance, are marginalised and labelled as threat to national security. What kind of history, then, should we teach?
We need a shift from focusing on race and warfare to the land and its peoples. Thai history should explore how geography, kinship, and trade shaped the rise (and decline) of communities, cities, and kingdoms. It should examine pre-Sukhothai civilisations, like Dvaravati, and the diverse peoples who lived here long before the Thai language arrived.
Thai, after all, is a language group, not a race. It spread across the region not by force, but through trade, travel and exchange.
A new way of teaching history would reflect this rich, multicultural past. It would show the roles of foreign traders, Muslim administrators, and Chinese migrants in shaping Siam's growth and prosperity. Diversity wasn't a danger -- it was the very thing that made the country strong. Just as important, it would give local communities a sense of pride in their own roots, leading to political confidence to make their voices heard.
At present, textbook history that centres on wars and royalty omits how the nation evolved. But when we tell the story of how people settled, built ties, traded and adapted through change, we rebuild those lost connections. And from that, grassroots democracy can grow.
History is not written in stone. It evolves as new evidence, perspectives and generations bring fresh questions. But when history is treated as untouchable, especially when tied to kings and royalty, discussion is stifled. The abuse of lèse-majesté laws makes even basic debates risky. Teaching history then focuses on rote learning rather than critical thinking.
Teaching history should not tame minds. It should prepare young people not to worship the past, but to understand how it was shaped, and how they might shape the future. Tanawat's warning is not just about one textbook. It's about who tells the story of Thailand, and whose stories have been left out. While the national version may remain dominant, the Education Ministry should offer students an alternative version: one that tells the story of the land, its many peoples, and shared histories.