2024 Thai Charter Rewrite Challenges: Navigating the Constitutional Referendum Maze

In the bustling chambers of the House of Representatives, the task of rewriting the nation’s constitution seemed straightforward, given the widespread enthusiasm and support. Yet, beneath this facade of simplicity lay a labyrinth of complexities, centered around the formidable task of passing a referendum, a necessary step to authorize a comprehensive overhaul of the charter. This is not just a tale of political maneuvering but a narrative steeped in the remnants of past dictatorial rule.

This year has witnessed a fervent push by both the People’s Party, the opposition, and the ruling Pheu Thai Party, aiming to clear the path for a constitutional redraft. Their efforts were fueled by a shared belief that the country’s 20th constitution, established in 2017, was fundamentally a legacy of the National Council for Peace and Order, a coup-born body responsible for catapulting the Prayut Chan-o-cha administrations to power. Critics have not been quiet, pointing fingers at a peculiar provisional clause. The clause compelled the Senate, handpicked by the NCPO, to join MPs in choosing a prime minister, a decision that infamously saw Pita Limjaroenrat, a former PP leader, miss the prime ministerial boat after last year’s election. Instead, the Senate threw its weight behind Pheu Thai’s candidate, Srettha Thavisin.

The contentious co-election clause expired in May as the Senate evolved, transitioning into a body elected through a more cross-professional method, free from NCPO’s direct influence. Despite being tagged the “cheat-buster” constitution, critics argued it granted disproportionate power to independent agencies like the Constitutional Court, capable of ousting leaders on a whim, as highlighted by the Internet Dialogue on Law Reform (iLaw).

A parallel vexing issue lay in the charter’s closed channel for citizen-driven impeachment of public officials—a stark contrast to predecessor charters that empowered citizens to initiate impeachment through voter petitions, thresholds being progressively relaxed from 50,000 voters in the 1997 constitution down to 20,000 in the 2007 version.

Pheu Thai and the People’s Party were not just idle players; they spearheaded a campaign to simplify the referendum process. The central villain in their narrative was the dreaded double-majority rule, a citation of bureaucratic convolution if there ever was one. Unpacking this topic revealed deeper divides than anticipated, where even intra-house efforts faltered at every turn.

The thorny journey began in January when the Pheu Thai sought clarity on referendum protocols from the Constitutional Court, questioning how many referendums might be necessary. An influential committee, under the stewardship of Deputy Prime Minister Phumtham Wechayachai, leaned toward a trifecta of referendums, as costed out to the tune of 10.5 billion baht. Yet, Pheu Thai argued for frugality with only two referendums, a stance shared with their dissolved predecessor, the Move Forward Party.

Legislative action beckoned as the two largest parties jointly proposed bills to revamp the Referendum Act, tabled under House Speaker Wan Muhamad Noor Matha’s jurisdiction. By April, the conversation had shifted as the Cabinet approved amendments to the Referendum Act 2021, aimed at dismantling the double majority—decried as a referendum’s worst enemy. This move sparked the formation of a special committee to deep dive into the law’s revision.

The saga took a twist by June, with the House embracing considerations for four separate bills targeting the Referendum Act’s contentious elements, echoing amongst 450 MPs bar one abstention. Their mission: axing the double majority. Clarity emerged in July as referendums were tentatively scheduled, with refined timings straddling election schedules strategically placed between 60 and 150 days of polling days.

However, debate crescendoed to a new peak as August’s winds tested the strength of inter-house unity—particularly with a number of Senators balking at the House-approved referendum bill, favoring the preservation of the traditional double-majority rule. This ideological skirmish was furthered by Bhumjaithai’s unexpected pivot, aligning with the Senate’s conviction to keep decision-making thresholds high, arguing national stakes deserved rigorous voter consensus.

Ultimately, October’s decision reflected the House’s firm stand, resoundingly rejecting the Senate’s plea for the double-majority rule by a unanimous 348 vote, leaving a trail of 65 abstentions. Partisan dynamics later saw a joint panel form to reconcile discord, yet, parliamentary chess played on unfazed. Suggestions of a “one and a half” majority rule floated within debates but found cold reception amid perceptions of mimicking the very double-majority they sought to replace.

Arriving at December, a temporary détente emerged as the “cooling-off” period introduced a mandated hiatus in discussions, effectively delaying the charter rewrite beyond the current governmental term. Former Deputy Prime Minister Wissanu Krea-ngam’s insights underscored what many had come to realize—a singular referendum on piecemeal charter amendments could sidestep pitfalls bigger revisions inevitably courted.

Amidst the shadows of contention, Mr. Parit Wacharasindhu optimistically proposed commencing charter drafting in the lull that the cooling-off afforded, though plans currently clash with Chief Government Whip Wisut Chainarun’s staunch adherence to procedural timelines.

As the clock ticks towards the next election cycle in 2027, the debate simmers. While dreams of a refreshed charter find themselves stashed among future election manifestos, the flicker of determination remains bright in champions like Mr. Parit, eager for a leaner referendum. However, political analysts forecast otherwise, pointing to enduring schematics unresolved between the House and Senate as a recurring plot in this grand drama of democratic engineering.