Once upon a time in the heart of Thailand, amidst the whirlwind of 20th-century revolutions and the echoes of upheaval, stood a man named Colonel Narong Kittikachorn. His tale intertwines with a chapter of Thai history that is as riveting as it is tumultuous. The story recently found a poignant bookmark as Colonel Narong, a towering figure of his era, breathed his last at the venerable age of 90.
The news of his passing was shared by Thepmontri Limpaphayom, a sage of history and theology, who took to his digital scroll—a Facebook account—to bid adieu to this historical colossus and offer condolences to the mourning Kittikachorn bloodline. As corners of the internet whispered tributes, many revisited the legacy of the Kittikachorns—particularly the days when Narong, his father Field Marshal Thanom, and his father-in-law Field Marshal Prapass, formed the infamous trio dubbed the “three tyrants.”
Narong was not just born into power; he was intertwined with it. His father, Thanom, ascended as a phoenix from the ashes of political chaos, only to stir the pot himself by staging a coup against his own government in 1971, aiming to quell the fiery communists. By December 1972, Thanom enthroned himself as the prime minister anew, with Narong and Prapass wielding considerable sway within the ramparts of government. The realm, however, grew restless under their reign.
The kingdom’s heartbeat quickened, throbbing for democracy and elections. This crescendo of public discontent and fervent cries for change culminated in the cataclysmic events of October 14, 1973—a day that would sear itself into the annals of Thai history. The sky rained chaos as 77 souls were lost and over 800 were marred by violence. The aftermath saw Thanom, Narong, and Prapass flee, leaving behind a nation in turmoil.
Rumours swirled like vultures in the aftermath—whispers of Narong’s involvement from the skies, allegations of bullets raining down from a helicopter he was claimed to have been aboard. Yet, he steadfastly denied these accusations, steadfast like the mountains surrounding the Chulachomklao Royal Military Academy where he had honed his military might and leadership skills.
Decades later, in the autumn of 2003, Mr. Thepmontri lifted the veil on the past somewhat by releasing two books filled with whispered secrets and purportedly confidential documents. They sung a different tune—that neither Narong nor his father struck a blow against the fermenting uprising of October 14.
Narong’s journey was as storied as it was controversial. Born into the fabric of Thai nobility and military elitism on October 21, 1933, he was molded by institutions of prestige, from Suankularb Wittayalai School to the hallowed halls of the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in the UK. However, it was not his academic excursions that defined him but the labyrinth of Thai politics and power plays he navigated following the 1971 coup.
A scandal not of thrones but of wild gaur meat, however, would rock the nation in April 1973, intertwining Narong with a narrative of corruption and poaching—a tale that would only deepen public skepticism. As commander of the 2nd Infantry Battalion, 11th Infantry Regiment, King’s Guard Unit, and later as a politician and member of Thailand’s National Legislative Assembly, Narong’s life was a mosaic of military valor, political intrigue, and unyielding speculation.
As Thailand bid farewell to Colonel Narong Kittikachorn, the curtains fall on a chapter of its history that was as indelible as it was contentious. His legacy, nestled within the broader tapestry of Thai history, remains a testament to the enduring and complex nature of power, governance, and the relentless quest for justice and democracy. In the end, Colonel Narong’s story is not merely about the ascendancy and decline of power but about the unyielding spirit of a nation perennially in pursuit of its soul.
It’s hard to see any positive light in Narong’s legacy given the brutal suppression of democracy under his watch. The ‘three tyrants’ era was a dark chapter for Thailand and should be remembered as such.
I think you’re missing the complexity of that era. Narong and his family were navigating turbulent times. It’s too simplistic to cast them only as villains.
It’s not about casting anyone as villains, but acknowledging the suffering and loss during those times. People’s cry for democracy was answered with violence. How is that justifiable?
I wonder how much impact external geopolitical pressures had on their decisions. The Cold War era forced many leaders into difficult positions.
That’s a fair point, external pressures definitely played a role. But it shouldn’t excuse or diminish the accountability for their actions domestically.
Saying goodbye to Colonel Narong is symbolic of closing a tumultuous period in Thai history. It’s time to reflect on how far we’ve come and where we still need to go in terms of political freedom and rights.
Absolutely agree. As much as we reflect on the past, we must look to the future and ensure such a history does not repeat itself. Democracy is fragile.
Does anyone think that history has been too harsh on Narong and his family? Maybe it’s time to re-evaluate their legacy in a new light?
History is written by the victors, but the scars and memories of those oppressed speak volumes. Re-evaluation should not mean whitewashing their actions.
I didn’t mean to suggest whitewashing. But understanding the past in its full context is crucial. Perhaps there were moments of humanity in Narong’s leadership?
The loss of lives and the quashing of democratic rights cannot just be brushed under the carpet. Narong’s passing might reignite discussions, but let’s not get lost in nostalgia for a past that was painful for many.
As a veteran, I’ve seen firsthand how complex these issues are. Leadership in times of turmoil is fraught with tough decisions. The key is how those choices align with the principles of humanity and democracy.