Aung San Suu Kyi was imprisoned for 15 of the past 21 years in her own home. Mahatma Gandhi was imprisoned several times on many different occasions in South Africa and India. Nelson Mandela spent 27 years in prison.
The lesson is clear, dear Il Duce: a hero is made of stern stuff and a leader must prove his mettle. The people mentioned are the heroes your flock often compare you too.
But Il Duce, in 2008 you left Thailand to go to the Beijing Olympics, promising to return; then you pulled a no show. In contrast, Mrs Suu Kyi's family begged her to leave Myanmar, but she didn't budge as a matter of principle.
In 2010, you pledged that you would return and head the red shirt protest if the government used force; two months and 91 dead bodies later, you were nowhere to be found, except on Twitter. By contrast, Gandhi led his people in protests barefoot, facing bullets, batons and stiff upper lips. Now in Laos in 2012, you've said you will come back this year. Il Duce, don't tease me.
I'm not saying all this to criticise you, Il Duce. I'm simply taking a page out of my high school American football coach's guidebook on how to inspire the bruised and dead tired to do the impossible. It's called tough love.
''It's fourth quarter!'' (Smack upside the helmet. Ouch!) ''That tailback been moon-walking all over your ass all night, son!'' (Grab the face mask, spitting curse-filled degrading/inspiring words. Stink!) ''Lower your shoulder and hit somebody, boy!'' (Smack again. Ouch!)
I understand, Il Duce, you don't want to spend a single day in jail. I wouldn't want to either. Who would? But Il Duce, these are the Songkran holidays and your red children are flocking to pay homage to you in Laos and Cambodia. I say, let them bring you back _ a heralded return of the Kingdom's billionaire son.
Returning is a risk, Il Duce, I know. But your red flock has risked lives and limbs for you for the past six years, so I say it's time you take some risks of your own. It is simply a matter of manliness _ and if I have to explain this or justify it to anyone, then they ought to put on skirts and play mahjong.
There are also practical reasons for your return, Il Duce. The baht stops with you and no one else. Thailand just can't function without you. When the Democrats were in government, nobody really knew where the baht stopped. Was it with Preppy Schoolboy AV? Palm Field Farmer ST? Khmer Soccer Baron NC? Or Buddha forbid, someone else behind the scenes? No one knew. It was confusing and it was difficult for the country to move forward.
Now that the Pheu Thai Party is in government, we all know where the baht stops: with you, Il Duce. But the problem is, when ministers and MPs want things done, they have to fly all the way to Dubai, or maybe Hong Kong. That's just logistically unsound.
As well, the business of Thai politics is in a shambles, Il Duce. Who to approach? Who to grease? How to divide the cake? Somebody has to make these decisions, but you are so far away and can't wield your power effectively.
The licensing auction for 3G has been going on since before Alexander Graham Bell invented the telephone, and there's no end is in sight. But if you were here, Il Duce, we know exactly who would get the concession.
The Four Seasons Hotel rendezvous wouldn't have been a scandal if you were the one there, Il Duce. Everybody would have understood it was all just business _ nothing to see, move along, _ rather than the unsavoury hanky panky circus it turned into.
Furthermore, Il Duce, nobody can combat a crisis like you can. Two months and 91 dead bodies, two years later and they are still arguing over legal repercussions, reconciliation and amnesty. But you, Il Duce? You? If you were in charge in 2010, you would have stopped any peaceful, democratic protest threatening to turn into an illegal, violent uprising right on the Asia Superhighway. How do I know this? Your resume speaks for itself.
In 2003, it took you only three months to come up with some 2,000 dead bodies, without trials, without the due process of law, and not much longer to reach around 2,600 overall. Legal repercussions? Amnesty talks? Reconciliation? None. No need. You get things done, Il Duce. Your body counts are second to none in this Kingdom.
Under your rule, Bangkok in 2010 would not have been denied Thailand's most treasured national tradition for so long _ shopping.
Oh sure, Il Duce, there might be those little sissies complaining about our insensitivity discussing these issues in such a manner. Let them put on skirts and play mahjong _ we real men roll up our sleeves and play the Game of Thrones.
In crisis management, Il Duce, you are incomparable. During last year's flood crisis, the baht stopped with no one, just as the floods stopped for no one. You were so far away. If you had been here, you would have stopped the flood even before it hit the Asia Superhighway.
You would have set up a bottled water company, put the shares in the names of your maids and chauffer, bottled the northern run-off, branded it ''Mr T's Natural Juice'' and made billions with worldwide distribution. Then you'd have used the profits to set up a casino in Koh Kong for Thai tourists to go over and enjoy the country's second most treasured national tradition _ gambling.
Don't you see, Il Duce? You and I, we speak the same language. We both studied in the great state of Texas. We know how to get things done. If we're not sure about something, we can always consult directly with God, like that other Il Duce from Texas.
Haters will hate you blindly and lovers will love you blindly, and they all keep walking into the same brick wall. Only I, Il Duce, will give you a fair and honest shake, dripping with sarcasm though the shake may be. You're the most capable prime minister we have had in the past 20 years, Il Duce. Your Otop and 30 baht healthcare schemes were the best things any prime minister has ever done for the country.
Sure, you have a track record of human rights abuses and corruption, but at least 15 million voters do not mind. Meanwhile, other voters cast their ballots for parties who also have a track record of human rights abuses and corruption. So frankly, we Thais in general really don't mind human rights abuses or corruption. Especially the latter, as opinion polls testify.
Il Duce, you are still head and shoulders above the rest. I say, this Songkran, cross the border with your red flock, Il Duce. Ride on a buffalo as a symbolic gesture. We Thais love pageantry. Should there be a line of soldiers standing in your way, their rifles levelled, do like in the movie The Lady, where Mrs Suu Kyi as played by Michelle Yeoh stares down the barrel of a gun so calmly, so graciously, that the soldiers can do nothing but turn away in shame.
Surely if you perform such a heroic deed, a year from now Hollywood will make a movie of your life, starring Johnny Depp as Il Duce, written by me and directed by Michael Cimino.
This, you must do, Il Duce. Don't allow your minions in Italian suits and German cars to send your red flock to risk their lives and limbs again. It's time to return the favour. It's time you step up and man up. We dare to dream big dreams, Il Duce, but first we must take that step across the border.
The British empire was built on the playing fields of Eton. The American empire was built on the high school ''pigskin'' football fields from sea to shining sea. Your legacy will be built on the back of that buffalo.
Heroes are made of stern stuff and leaders must prove their mettle. Listen to the coach, Il Duce. It's fourth quarter. The clock is ticking down. You have them on their one-yard line. But they are digging in, making a goal-line stand.
It's the longest yard. Motor Mouth CY is bending over right in front of you; butt high in the air. He's your powerful centre, ready to snap the ball and bulldoze through the defence. You are flanked by Bad Boy JP and Vato Loco NS, your fullback and tailback. Pheu Thai MPs are high-stepping and bouncing their pompoms on the sideline. The former Missus is calling the play.
Will you, Il Duce, reach your hands in between the manly thighs of Motor Mouth CY, and take the ball? Put your shoulder down for a quarterback sneak, and batter into the endzone for the winning touchdown?
Score, Il Duce, and the coach would still smack you upside your helmet, and so would all your teammates. That's just how things are done in the manly game. But they would also pat you on your butt; that's how confident manly men are. Take the snap, Il Duce.
Or are you going to call a timeout and let Sexy Sister Girl kick the field goal?
Contact Voranai Vanijaka via email at