Monday, March 15, 2010

Red Is the Color Of My True Love


The fall of the Iron Curtain inspires various other countries to embrace democracy. Eastern Europe immediately opened its borders and their populaces flooded the West. The US sent the GOP into eight years of exile from the White House. Asian countries were not so lucky with their aspirations for freedom. Their leaders were well-supported by the rich, the military, and the police. Burma remained under a draconian dictatorship. Nepal's monarchy repressed the dissidents with gunfire. I was in Bangkok during the 1992 demonstrations against the return of military rule. The newly-appointed Prime minister had broken his vow to the King. The hopes of the Thai people was bolstered by the lack of action from from hometown troops. No one thought that the protests would ended in violence.

"Violence not Thai Way." Kenny told me, as we stood at the tail-end of the hundreds of thousands gathered before the Democracy Monument not far from the temple of the Golden Mount The sun was blazing down on their heads. Kenny and I retreated to the Hotel Royale. The beer was cold and the room was cheap. Tourist had fled the city in anticipation of serious trouble. The balcony overlooked the entire avenue and I surveyed the masses with a pair of counterfeit binoculars I had bought in Patpong.

"Things are going to get ugly." I spotted a shift in troops stationed beyond the distant traffic circle. Fresh troops were their replacements. Thousands of frightened murmurs wavered through the crowd. "Suchinda has found loyal soldiers."

"They not shoot Thai people." Kenny had a bar near the Malaysia Hotel. He dealt with the police and soldiers. They laughed playing poker in his backroom. None of them ever mentioned anything about his being gay

"I'm not so sure about that." The drunk farangs in the bar joked about how small they were, but something about their smile spoke murder. "Suchinda and his bosses don't want the people to be free."

"Free?" Kenny dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. "No one free. My mother slave to father. Father slave to big people. And Kenny slave to good time. But Khon Yai not free. Rich people slave to poor people. Everyone know place. Good. Not mob. No one know what come next."

"Nothing good."

And I was right.

The troops had been brought from the country. Their officers told them that they were putting down a communist revolution. The gunfire came as a surprise to the demonstrators. They died by the hundreds. The number will never be known. Kenny and I hide several in our hotel room. The police wanted to take them outside. Kenny gave them all his money. I gave all mine too. The students were left alone.

The next day I took a bus to Chiang Mai. Suchinda was ousted by the King. A week later everything was back to normal. Kenny was right. The Thais knew their place.

Nearly twenty years later the people are not so obedient. The yellow-shirts represent the old school of Khon Yai. Privilege and power. Cars are 30% more expensive in Thailand. Gas too. The money lines the pockets of the rich. Thaksin's red-shirts want change. The deposed leader promises redistribution of wealth if he resumes his position as prime minister.

Tens of thousands of red-shirts are in Bangkok. They have no intention of going home. The military sits in their barracks. No one is willing to give Suchinda's order to shot on the people. Not yet and Kenny would be happy about that.

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