Redshirts in Isan, north-east Thailand, keep faith with benefactor Thaksin

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/mar/24/thailand-redshirt-movement-isan-activists

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Chaineuk Phokachang, 74, says: "In Bangkok they think people from north-east Thailand are fools. But though we're poor and not as well off as the people in the capital and the central plains, we nevertheless represent a force. After all, the army no longer dares attempt a putsch because they know that we – the redshirts, who defend the government – are not afraid of tanks ..."

We had this conversation in the middle of February, in the yard outside a house in Na Ke, a village in the Isan region, which comprises about 20 provinces and has a separate identity from Bangkok and the rest of the country.

Phokachang, and the villagers around him that evening, belong to the redshirt movement. They support former prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra, ousted by the military in 2006.

These rural activists also back the present premier, Yingluck Shinawatra, Thaksin's sister. Elected in 2011, she has faced constant unrest since December. Her opponents aim to force her to resign, accusing her of running a corrupt regime and being manipulated by her brother, who has been in exile in Dubai since 2008 to avoid a two-year prison sentence.

"Thaksin is a genius," Phokachang adds. "It's the first time a prime minister has ever honoured his promises to the poor." The response from the Isan farmers and their almost unquestioning support for both brother and sister are emblematic of the rift dividing the country. Thailand (population: 70 million) is split between the north and north-east on the one hand, and the south and the capital on the other; between upper and lower classes, between city and countryside.

To find an explanation for the current political deadlock, we must look far from Bangkok and close to neighbouring Laos, where the benefits of the 1980s economic miracle have not reached. In Isan, with its acid earth and poor yields, modernity is often little more than a facade. Drive to remote villages and Thailand suddenly looks distinctly underdeveloped.

Supot Kengam, 55, another Na Ke resident, is also effusive about Thaksin. "He gave us access to medical treatment for no more than 30 bahts [less than $1] covering medical expenses or hospitalisation," she says. "Before that poor people had to wait and borrow to go into hospital. Thaksin also allocated more than a million bahts [$31,000] in subsidies to each village to help development. We'd never seen anything like it."

The farmers do not care that Thaksin was a free-market capitalist, at the head of a government marked by corruption and nepotism. What they remember of his time in power (2001-06) are the policies which improved their standard of living. It is as if the former policeman, who made a fortune in telecommunications, gave a form of dignity to these deprived country people who had never previously dared to stand up to the traditional elites – the palace, the military and the big, well-connected corporations.

Over two-thirds of government spending is allocated to Bangkok and its hinterland, whereas the north-east, home to a third of the population, receives only 6%. According to the World Bank, the income of households in Isan soared by 46% under Thaksin. A significant uplift, given that a survey by Thai researchers published in 2010 country's found a tenfold difference in wages between the top 5% and the bottom 5% in the country as a whole.

The demonstrators in Bangkok are hardline monarchists, often activists from the richest southern provinces. Backed by the middle and upper classes, they tend to look down on the farmers from the north-east, who are dismissed as "water buffalo".

This attitude is rooted in Isan's past. From the 13th century, much of this region was part of the kingdom of Laos. In the early 19th century, the rival kingdom of Siam – as Thailand was then known – sacked Vientiane and deported members of the Lao ethnic group to what is now north-east Thailand. They are regarded as yokels, despite being Buddhists and speaking a dialect similar to Thai.

To make matters worse, the Thai authorities have tried to impose the idea of "Thainess", on the grounds of national unity. Its effects may be counterproductive.

"Many people from this area have developed a complex sense of identity, having been rejected on ethnic grounds and sidelined socially," says American historian David Streckfuss, who lives in Isan. "They now feel like second-class citizens, unable to express their culture. Meanwhile, across the border formed by the Mekong, their Lao cousins are free to behave as they wish. The redshirt movement has enabled the people of Isan to lay claim to their roots."

It would a step too far to suggest that the crisis has sewn the seeds of secession, but it has widened the gap between Isan and the capital. In 2010, the redshirts occupied Bangkok to demand the return of Thaksin. The army crushed their movement, and more than 90 people died.

There seems no sign of a solution. So far 22 people have been killed and 700 injured in the latest bout of unrest. Although, demonstrators have moved away from Bangkok's main crossroads and a precarious calm has been restored, everyone fears civil war as nothing has been resolved. With anti-government sentiment still running high, the redshirts in the north-eastern provinces remain on alert.

This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates material from Le Monde