ACTIVIDAD 2 – DISEÑO TÉCNICO DE LOS COMPONENTES DEL SITP-AMB

These are strong words, of a type not conventionally found in studies of politics. Among several possible objections to the attempt to pass judgement on the historical significance of the reign it may be pointed out that the reign is in fact continuing, and that by that token an assessment seems premature. But if this point be conceded, let us at any rate admit that the King is mortal, and is probably only alive today thanks to modern heart surgery in 1995.73 While it is, mercifully, premature to draft an ‘obituary’, we may be allowed a few moments of crystal-gazing in the light of King Bhumibol’s towering achievement – which will have to be admitted for the purpose of the exercise.

The ‘problem of the succession’ strikes nearly all observers as acute because of two factors: first, the achievement of the King is a function, overwhelmingly, of his personal creativity and commitment in the role, difficult to replicate in another individual; and second, the particular heir-designate has displayed qualities which defy laws of probability by the degree to which they do not replicate those of the father. The King has been criticized by one writer for not ‘institutionalizing’ the role of the monarchy. This is meant in the sense that the King has improvidently worked for a ‘conservative polity’, not a modern- constitutional one in which the monarchy could retreat into the background and survive in a niche regardless of the personality of the incumbent.74 This typically Western view rejects the relevance of institutional interests such as the bureaucracy and the army – indeed the charismatic Throne itself – as elements which should be allowed some moral weight in the polity for its overall cohesion. At the same time, paradoxically, the use of the term ‘conservative’ seems to belie the personal element in the development of the authority of the throne to its present position. How, we may ask above all, could King Bhumibol have achieved so much if he had constantly referred to institutional precedent instead of his own judgement on the needs of the hour? The whole ‘project’ becomes

Thailand 153 meaningless and unthinkable without a commitment which has been, precisely and essentially, personal, and breached received norms. Therefore, a problem of succession is almost inherent in the nature of the King’s achievement – though also of the hereditary principle. It is a problem which rightly causes concern, but should not be phrased to imply a criticism of the King: unless at some point Princess Sirindhorn (the second of the King’s two daughters) was seriously perceived by the King as his heir, but was then superseded again by her only brother, the official Crown Prince.75 Even then one would wish to understand more fully the role of the Queen.76

The Constitution (Section 23) does in fact allow a female to inherit the throne but if there is a male heir apparent she could only be nominated by the Privy Council in the event that the late King had failed to appoint the male officially. As for the Palace Law on Succession (1924), it continues to require male succession in any event, and besides, sober observers reckon that the present Crown Prince’s title amounts to an ‘appointment’ in the terms of the Constitu- tion. On the other hand, a comparison of the present Constitution (Section 22) with the previous democratic landmark, that of 1974 (Section 25), appears to reveal a far larger prerogative for the King and Privy Council in amending the Palace Law on Succession, while the present requirement of the Constitution (Section 23) that a female can only be nominated if the late King failed to appoint a male has replaced, at some time in the previous twenty-three years, the stipulation of the 1974 Constitution (Section 25) that a female can only be nominated if the late King had no surviving male issue.77

The present chapter was completed to this point before the publication of that extraordinary book The Revolutionary King.78 Although Stevenson’s diffuse, wandering style seems to subvert his apparent, primary aim of burying once and for all the speculation around the death of the Eighth Rama, it is a book which cannot be overlooked, for it appears to have benefited from access to, and some kind of sponsorship by, the monarch. Thus, in its English way, it is on a level with the essays a quarter of a century earlier by two Premiers-to-be. It felicitously confirms and complements both those essays, though perhaps Kukrit’s rather more than Tanin’s: this on account of its recurring references to the King’s long- term vision of a ‘self-reliant Buddhist republic’, meaning a self-reliant society dominated neither by military violence nor royal charisma but by law – even though the latent, personal transcendence derived from Buddhist disciplines is also described. In a two-centuries’ perspective the ‘republic’ idea is recognizably an updated expression of ‘Chakri Reformation’. Yet repeatedly we meet the King’s dilemma that in order to liberate Thai society from the thrall of its history he in effect exploits the historical charisma of his position, whose roots could be traced – though even the mystically-minded Tanin was careful not to suggest it – back beyond the Chakri dynasty to Ayut’ia, with its much depreci- ated ideology of the absolutist God-king. The next reign will offer a similar choice of options to the new incumbent. No doubt, the particular mix of ‘ancient’ and ‘modern’ postures and approaches which that person adopts will have significance for the further staying power of the monarchy itself.79

Part IV