If Gen Prayuth Chan-ocha had declared martial law a few days earlier, the rogue soldier who led an armed gang to attack the villagers of Ban Na Nong Bong might have had second thoughts.
The struggle of anti-mine protesters in Loei epitomises state failure to enforce local communities’ right to have a say over the use of their natural resources.
At first glance, the incident at the village in Loei province might have no bearing on what is happening hundreds of kilometres away in Bangkok. But in fact it presents a good case study for the urgent need for national reform.
About 300 men, wearing balaclavas and carrying sticks, knives and guns, went on a terror rampage at Ban Na Nong Bong in Wang Saphung district, from 10pm on May 15 to 5am the following day.
Residents of Na Nong Bong and five neighbouring villages have been embroiled in a long-running dispute with a gold mine operated by Tungkum Limited, a subsidiary of Tungkah Harbour Pcl.
The gold mine was accused of poisoning the villagers’ land and water supplies and causing serious health problems among them.
Attempts to demand the mine be shut down led nowhere.
In a desperate last resort, the villagers put up barriers on a road through the villages to prevent trucks from the mine from passing through. The barriers were manned around the clock.
When the armed thugs arrived, they started beating up the villagers on guard duty. Some were tied around the wrists and ankles while being manhandled.
Villagers who rushed from their homes to help were met with gunfire shot into the air. They watched helplessly as their neighbours suffered.
Their sadistic deed satisfied, the thugs dismantled the barriers and allowed through a convoy of trucks carrying hundreds of tonnes of copper ore.
Police were no help, showing up only after the fact, which didn’t surprise the villagers who identified the leaders of the armed gang as Lt Gen Poramet Pomnak and his son Poramin.
The police also came too late three weeks earlier when a group of armed men led by Lt Gen Poramet came to the village to “request” that the barriers be lifted, but returned empty-handed.
It has been clear to the villagers from the beginning that they are up against an opponent whose influence casts a wide net across the official and political worlds.
Thanawut Thimsuwan, president of the Loei administration organisation, whose family has long dominated local politics, had tried to convince a village leader to concede to Tungkum’s demand.
Loei governor Wirot Jiwarangsan said the latest incident resulted from a conflict between the mine operator and the villagers, making it sound like an attack by 300 thugs was something to be expected.
Employing a familiar red herring tactic, he blamed “some NGOs” for instigating local resistance.
Panitan Jindapoo, director-general of the Department of Primary Industries and Mines, echoed a similar sentiment.
People can debate whether coup is a good thing for the country at this juncture.
But its immediate effect is to give the Na Nong Bong villagers a reprieve from the constant fear of intimidation by armed thugs although they realise that a long, hard fight still lies ahead.
The Na Nong Bong villagers’ plight illustrates quite succinctly what has gone wrong with this country’s management of its natural resources, which in many ways has contributed to the current political mess.
What we have here is a classic political-industrial complex where the industrial and political actors, aided by bureaucrats, conspire to exploit natural resources at the expense of the ordinary people and the environment.
This relationship is legitimised by laws giving wide authority to politicians in power and top bureaucrats who inevitably work in cahoots with big businesses.
On mineral resources, for instance, the law gives top officials the power to approve mining concessions as they deem fit in exchange for obscenely low returns for the state.
The result is often devastating for the environment and the livelihoods and health of the local population.
Almost all apparatus of the bureaucracy are then mobilised, as and when they are required, to ensure the parties concerned benefit from the exploitation.
When local opposition arises, this is suppressed either by laws, by tricks or by threats.
In the Tungkum case, as in similar cases elsewhere, when public hearings were required for licence approval, opposing locals were prevented from participating with help from officials, the police and other mercenaries.
The citizens’ right to participate in the management of natural resources, as enshrined in the constitution, is blatantly taken away with nary a bleep from the powers-that-be.
And the public as usual is too busy making a living to be concerned with some incidents in remote parts of the country, so allowing the constitutional breaches to be committed with impunity.
In the current political crisis, one thing we can agree is that reform is badly needed in almost all aspects of public life.
One aspect of reform that should go to the top of the agenda is how to turn the ideals in the constitution into reality.
First and foremost, the principle of public participation must be widely applied.
Measures need to be devised to allow citizens to play a meaningful role in deciding, for example, what best to do with natural resources, how to protect the environment and how the benefits should be distributed.
This cannot come about obviously without power decentralisation.
Most of the decision-making power now resides in the hands of politicians and bureaucrats in Bangkok and provincial authorities who answer to the central authorities.
Residents should have a say on who would help run local affairs.
They should be able to elect their own governors, have a police force they can trust and a school system that responds to local needs.
The reform task is broad and deep. Attempts have been made before, all of which have been in vain as evidenced by the current political crisis.
Wasant Techawongtham is former News Editor, Bangkok Post.