Although 90 percent of democratic politics is about good timing and seizing the opportunities, sooner or later you will have to do the remaining 10 percent and nothing else. 

In other words, you can lie, pretend, manipulate, get a payback or “play” politics all you like, but keep in mind that genuine “conscience” has a place in politics, too. The time will always come when you can no longer point at something that is seriously wrong and tell the people that it is right.

The Pheu Thai Party’s amnesty agenda used up its “90 percent” quota on the Halloween night when the House of Representatives passed that controversial bill while most Thais were sleeping. When Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra and other top government figures described the anti-amnesty uproar as a conspiracy against her government, they overlooked the 10 percent requirement. The rest is history.

The anti-amnesty crowds, if put together, were far bigger than those that besieged her brother Thaksin before he was removed from power in 2006. Adding to the rare phenomenon was growing dissent among the ruling camp’s own supporters. The red shirts are in danger of being divided into a pro-Pheu Thai movement, and an “independent” one that remains at the fledging stage but could become a significant political variable in the near future.

The legislative door is threatening to slam shut on an amnesty for Thaksin Shinawatra and the return of money seized from his business empire. The constitutional windows have also been almost sealed. Some blame poor timing and arrogance, saying the amnesty juggernaut overturned because it was speeding. Truth is, the parliamentary Halloween-night farce was just the last straw, and the amnesty bill was doomed at conception because it directly insulted the public conscience.

The red shirts don’t want to forgive people they hold responsible for the deaths of protesters in 2010. The other half of Thailand doesn’t want to let corruption go unpunished. Which side is right or wrong is not as important as the fact that many ideologically divided Thai people somehow agree that legislative powers should not be exploited to meet individuals’ goals. The government had been toying with its election “mandate,” whereas the situation was crying out for “accountability,” that heavy responsibility that comes with great power.

With the Yingluck administration caving in to public outrage, a credibility crisis has resulted. The Democrats describe it as a liar’s retreat after getting caught, and accuse the government of planning to lie low until the time is right for revival of the controversial amnesty. The anti-government campaign has been “upgraded,” with nine Democrats resigning to lead street protests, and calls for strikes or slowdowns to increase pressure for political change. The ruling camp, meanwhile, is attempting to play the sympathy card again, counting on the red shirts to swallow the pain of being “stabbed in the back” and come to its rescue.

But we are in that “10 percent” stage of politics, and it’s important that both political camps ― the government and its rivals ― realize it. The balance between the rule of law and democracy ― which has kept Thaksin a convict and his sister an elected prime minister ― is inconvenient, but it cannot be tilted. This is why anti-government protests before the amnesty bill flare-up were lukewarm. Despite what the world probably thinks, most Thais understand that democracy means living with a government that they don’t like.

The government side has learned that even that understanding has limits. When the crucial line was crossed, with a disliked government attempting to pass a law that defied widespread concepts of right and wrong, a groundswell of public anger materialized in a bid to teach the “democratically-elected” administration an important lesson about democracy.

Is the government listening? Probably not. Is it remorseful? Absolutely not. To Prime Minister Yingluck and the Pheu Thai Party, the amnesty bill remains what Thailand really needs, but is strongly opposed because the country is so full of sour losers who distort facts and fool gullible millions in their conspiracy to destroy democracy. The world heard the same excuse when Thaksin was removed from power.

Truth is, Thailand doesn’t need such a highly divisive law, at least for now. The phenomenal opposition to the bill is not a conspiracy, either. The government is losing public trust not because its enemies have “distorted” the bill and “deceived” the Thai public, but because the administration itself has looked nowhere near being sincere. The bill was suspiciously proposed, then outrageously altered and then scandalously rammed through the House of Representatives. That’s simply not how it’s supposed to be.

Although we may be mastering the art of flying blind politically, some guiding lights will help. The government may have itself justified a “conspiracy,” but it’s up to its opponents to decide how tight the noose should be. The anti-amnesty movement may have largely involved the “10 percent” part of politics, so the trick is how to avoid slipping into the 90 percent part. Conscience does not assert itself very often in politics, but it has emerged to say a resounding “No” to the amnesty bill. We hope it stays a bit longer, because we know what can happen when it’s gone.

By Tulsathit Taptim

Tulsathit Taptim is editor-in-chief of The Nation. ― Ed.

(The Nation/Asia News Network)