The ousting of Thailand’s Prime Minister has exposed the fragility of the political alliances which have accompanied the nation’s move towards casino legislation. Expert and author Daniel Cheng points out what has led to the current unraveling and what could possibly happen next.
And now Paetongtarn Shinawatra makes four.
Riddle me this: How many prime ministers does it take to flip the casino switch in Thailand? That is the $64,000 question, really the $6.4 billion riddle because that’s the ballpark money at stake which the gaming industry will genuflect to whoever has the answer. There was a palpable sense that to offer a precise number would descend into a cheap betrayal, veering into the realm of the kind of tired punditry of a Magic 8-ball. The stark truth being, of course, that the figure was now comfortably five or more.
Pheu Thai’s grip on the casino baton has given way to a kind of glorious, maddening schizophrenia. It’s been a ride of exhilarating highs and gut-wrenching lows, careening wildly between mania and despair.
For the Shinawatras, the need for speed has been a siren song, a potent aphrodisiac to which the investment class in the bleachers has responded with fist-pumping glee. All of this urgency, however, is a race against a clock that is fast approaching 2027. That crossroad, the end of the government’s term, looms large, and the ruling party and their allies were desperate to have their bird in hand before the final grains of sand run out.
The return of Thaksin
The neutrals on the sidelines, myself included, are lone devil’s advocates, and my bylines had served as little more than unheeded omens. I’ll admit, in the beginning, even I had my pom-poms out.
The greatest showman had returned to home soil to a hastily-assembled guard of honor of American operators, an odd parade of corporate ambassadors, raucously waving the red, white and blue flag, not of the land of the free, but of Thailand. This homecoming was, at its heart, a corporate-political pantomime offering an unblushing promise of unfettered capitalism that had shifted the entertainment complex legislation into breathless overdrive.
Thaksin, it must be said, had conducted the entire grand symphony with a maestro’s touch, save for one sour note that is proving to be his undoing. He captured the rapt attention of the industry’s global leviathans to sit at his feet with tongues hanging out in rabid anticipation.
Two months ago, the legislation had been brought to the very cusp of the House floor, poised for a historic rubber-stamping. But his hubris- fueled ambition and a desire to sculpt the law into his own personal Aphrodite led him to a fatal excision. In creating his masterpiece, he had amputated the multi-partisan support that the original bill was grounded upon, leaving it tragically flawed with missing limbs because a work of art it was not.
Pheu-Thai
The Pheu Thai-only approach was its unraveling, not just on the bill but on the very body of Thai politics itself. It had sowed the seeds of a political and civic discontent which his dynastic ingenue would struggle to handle, all while he pulled the strings ever more in plain sight, and that only further undermined her and the party. The deep chasm of the Shinawatra-Chidchob family feud hung the government on a highly fragile coalition that always seemed one tiff away from a bitter divorce.
Ung Ing’s Cambodian faux pas was the ill- timed final blow. In a brutal dose of irony, that one stumble elevated the stature of the military that her father so perfidiously betrayed and led to her dismissal as prime minister. It was beginning to feel like a doomed and perpetual quest to create a new gaming jurisdiction in Asia.
At least Japan, after twenty years of trying, had already gotten a toe through the door. Somewhere in their spanking new offices in Bangkok, freshly-hired casino executives are drumming anxious fingers on their desks overlooking the Chao Phraya, a rhythmic dread of when their final paychecks would be.
What is to come?
This coming week will see a mad circus of horse-trading between political parties to garner support for the prime ministerial keys. Trending memes on Thai social media, likening the candidate choices to either cancer or diabetes, capture the weary sentiment of the populace.
Pheu Thai is maintaining a brave face that belies a deeper dread, insisting it will remain in power despite a now-slimmer majority after the departure of Bhumjaithai to the opposition benches. Their nomination of another Thaksin proxy in the ageing Chaikasem Nitsiri hardly inspires confidence. But if he does get elected, Pheu Thai may still push the casino law through by brute force, à la Japan, a move seen to only serve to hasten this government’s demise. This might be the very reason other political parties could allow it to happen and let Pheu Thai self-implode.
It seems to be the only remaining permutation left for Thai entertainment complex prospects, a hollow victory that would see the bill dead on arrival, but passed nonetheless. A military prime minister is now unthinkable, given the universal distaste for such a move among the political class. The other viable PM candidate, Anutin Charnvirakul, or even a fresh election that might usher in the People’s Party all spell a quick death for casino hopes.
Does casino legislation stand a chance?
Should Chaikasem get his fleeting spell as prime minister long enough to legalize casinos, it permits a minuscule hope that the next political leadership might contemplate picking up the pieces and shape them back into a multi-partisan framework and revive it. The solution is as simple as it is complicated, and I’ve dropped breadcrumbs into my past narratives more than once. In one word—Referendum.
There is, however, the small matter of September 9th before all that. On that fateful Tuesday afternoon, the criminal court will rule on whether Thaksin’s six-month hospital stay counted as a legitimate part of his jail term. An adverse ruling would probably all but scupper Pheu Thai’s chances of putting forward a prime minister to succeed Paetongtarn, and with it, the prospect of entertainment complexes.
It all hinges on whether the government moves for the House to vote on the next prime minister before or after this critical date, which will provide a telling clue to the old master’s confidence in his remaining hand.
