Abhisit Vejjajiva Takes a Stand Against Proposed Casino Complexes in Thailand: Unveiling the Risks

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In the bustling world of politics and policies, where every decision can ripple through society like a stone skipping across a pond, former prime minister Abhisit Vejjajiva presents a resolute stance against a controversial proposal. This proposal, bound to spark debate, suggests the establishment of integrated entertainment complexes—yes, including casinos—in Thailand. Now, on the surface, it might seem like a glamorous idea, the kind that conjures up images of glitzy lights, ringing slot machines, and beaming tourists. Yet, Abhisit sees a storm brewing beneath this layer of allure.

Speaking candidly with the Bangkok Post just before the much-anticipated bill was set to be read in parliament (now delayed, mind you), Mr. Abhisit illuminated some serious concerns. He highlights the haunting specter of gambling addiction, a nightmare that can creep silently through society, leaving trails of debt and crime. Ah, gambling—a siren song that often mesmerizes unsuspecting souls into a whirlpool of financial chaos. To Abhisit, endorsing such activities, be it in shiny casinos or through the whispering wires of online gambling, sends a signal that veers dreadfully off course.

The government’s claim, of course, is that this bill would rev up tourism, filling the nation with eager visitors drawn to these manufactured marvels. But Mr. Abhisit, ever the skeptic, points out that the government’s policy statement to parliament sidestepped the C-word: ‘casino.’ Instead, it cleverly donned the guise of “integrated entertainment complex.” Sneaky, isn’t it? According to Abhisit, officials knew the public might not exactly throw confetti at the prospect of legalizing casinos.

“Actually, any such complex could exclude a casino,” he points out, raising an eyebrow, “but this proposed law stipulates that it must include one.” A move that Mr. Abhisit believes doesn’t hold much weight on the ‘tourist magnet’ scale. He challenges the notion of casinos being a lighthouse drawing international fleets of tourists. Have foreign visitors been deterred so far by Thailand’s lack of casinos? In his view, not likely.

And then there’s the murky side of casinos—the shadowy twinning of transnational crime and money laundering. Thailand, Mr. Abhisit notes, has wrestled with these issues long enough. “Recently, we cracked down on gambling websites and call center gangs along the border,” he recalls, unearthing shadows of past headaches. These tangled connections with casinos hardly seem like the ideal blueprint for future development.

“I cannot see what we could gain from the new draft bill,” Abhisit says with a shrug that perhaps conceals a wealth of deeper concerns, “I can only see the downside.” And downside there could be, as he critiques the haste of this policy while seemingly dragging its feet on addressing social ills like gambling prevention or rehabilitation.

Transparency—or the lack there of—seems to be yet another hole in this bill’s facade. Abhisit expresses his worry about the concentrated power this bill grants to a government-appointed committee. With control over matters like licensing and tax collection, the potential for corruption lingers like a ghost in a supposedly legal machine.

Despite the government waving flags of lower illegal gambling rates thanks to legalized casinos, Mr. Abhisit isn’t buying it. He waves a mental red flag over the potent threat of online gambling. Citing Singapore, a nation often paraded as a success story in casino management, he reveals even they face hefty societal costs from gambling.

And then there’s the powerhouse next door: China. With gambling firmly in the ‘do-not-touch’ zone for its citizens, any moves by Thailand to open its casino doors wider might lead to China advising its citizens against taking a Thai holiday—a vacation-sized economic bombshell waiting to explode.

The inexplicable rush to push this bill, while so many other crucial issues simmer on the back burner, leaves Abhisit questioning if there’s a hidden agenda. A suspicion of hasty beneficiaries perhaps, rather than a well-considered public boon. Even the Council of State seems to want more deliberation, adding to the bill conditions for public hearings and impact assessments, potentially throwing another wrench in the legislative timeline gears.

The former premier observes that while coalition parties neither oppose nor champion, they might be waiting to see how the game plays out. Public reaction and parliamentary debates could steer their ships. Should the bill paddle through these choppy legislative waters to become law, Abhisit muses a licensing time cap of 30 years might just control the potential societal fallout.

And so, the story unfolds with enough drama, intrigue, and stirring debate to rival the best of political thrillers. Who knows how this chapter will end?