THAILAND'S MOMENT OF TRUTH - ZENJOURNALIST

chain linkage of government.
The Thai sense of nationhood is partly the result of never having felt the trauma of colonial
conquest. Even more, it resides in the charisma of the throne, reinforced by the nation's pervasive
Buddhism. In Buddhist theology, the King is one of the highest of reincarnations, rich in his
person in past accumulated virtue. Even in remote parts where spirit-worshiping peasants may
never have heard of Thailand, they are likely to know - and revere - the King.
In an age when kings have gone out of style and the craft of kingship is all but forgotten, it is
the good fortune of Thailand - and of the free world - that the present occupant of the nine-tiered
umbrella throne, ninth monarch of the 184-year-old Chakri dynasty, not only takes the business of
being a king seriously but has taken it upon himself to mold his emerging nation's character.
In the musical five-tone Thai tongue, his full name rings like the roll of monsoon thunder on
the Mekong: His Majesty the Supreme Divine Lord, Great Strength of the Land, Incomparable
Might, Greatest in the Realm, Lord Rama, Holder of the Kingdom, Chief of the Sovereign
People, Sovereign of Siam, Supreme Protector and Monarch...
Nearly every Thai household boasts a picture of the King. American information officials in
Bangkok long ago concluded that USIS funds could not be better employed than in spreading the
likeness of His Majesty.
This effort could never have been such a success were it not for the personality of Bhumibol himself. In
the eyes of most of his people, he acted in accordance with all the virtues of a great dhammaraja king:
wise, selfless, uninterested in the trappings of wealth or power, dedicated to the good of the kingdom:
Thais, who believe it is their land's fortune, their karma, to be blessed with such a king, saw a
man who worked tirelessly for them, without reward or pleasure. His sacrifice was readily visible:
while Thais are known for their gracious smiles and bawdy humour, and what-will-be fatalism,
King Bhumibol alone is serious, gray, and almost tormented by the weighty matters of his realm.
Ever since the day his brother mysteriously died, he seemed never to be seen smiling, instead
displaying an apparent penitential pleasurelessness in the trappings and burden of the throne.
For Thais, this was a sign of his spiritual greatness. In Buddhist culture, either a smile or a
frown would indicate attachment to world pleasures or desires. Bhumibol's public visage was
unfailingly one of kindly benevolence or impassivity. In his equanimity he resembled the greatest
kings of the past, the dhammarajas of the 13th century Sukhothai kingdom, who were called
Chao Phaendin, Lord of the Land, and Chao Cheevit, Lord of Life. Increasingly many Thais
compared his noble sacrifice to the Buddha's own. [Handley, The King Never Smiles]
As Thongchai Winichakul writes in Toppling Democracy:
Some of the sacred royal rituals were revived after the 1947 coup and fully flourished in the
1960s under Sarit. But the huge industry of royal deification was elevated to an unprecedented
level following the 1976 massacre, which was seen among the right-wing royalists as a decisive