On January 14, three of Thailand’s most prominent conservative parties made a simple, pointed argument: don’t rip up the 2017 constitution. Instead of grand gestures and a costly constitutional reboot, leaders from the Rak Chart Thai Party, Thai Pakdee Party and the United Thai Nation (UTN) urged a more cautious, surgical approach — tweak what’s broken, preserve what works, and avoid political fireworks that could burn more than bridges.
Speaking to voters in Nakhon Ratchasima, Rak Chart Thai’s Jade Donavanik didn’t mince words. The idea of drafting an entirely new charter, he said, is as expensive as it is unnecessary. “A complete overhaul would be unjustifiable on financial grounds alone,” Jade told local crowds, arguing that targeted amendments to problematic clauses would save taxpayers money and respect voter expectations. He also noted a surprising wrinkle: during his campaign stops, many constituents were puzzled to hear conservative parties even flirting with the idea of a full rewrite — a position historically associated with more progressive or populist camps.
Jade’s view frames the constitution not as sacred scripture but as a practical tool designed to keep the country steady. He defended the 2017 charter as a stabilizing instrument put in place to protect state institutions, including the military, suggesting that wholesale abolition risks undoing carefully-maintained order.
In Surat Thani, Thai Pakdee leader Dr. Warong Dechgitvigrom echoed those concerns and added a dose of caution about unintended consequences. “Dismantling the current constitution could weaken the very safeguards that keep corruption in check,” he warned. Dr. Warong singled out anti-corruption systems, ethical standards for public officeholders and the independence of regulatory bodies as fragile achievements that could be diluted in a sweeping rewrite. More alarmingly, he suggested, starting from a blank slate could deepen political divides and even open subtle channels for foreign influence — a provocative line designed to remind voters that constitutional change isn’t merely procedural, it’s geopolitical.
UTN leader Pirapan Salirathavibhaga brought the conversation back to personalities and accountability. He singled out provisions in the 2017 charter that bar certain individuals with serious criminal backgrounds from returning to political life. “Tossing the whole charter out risks paving the way for disqualified figures to re-emerge,” Pirapan said, stressing the practical protections these clauses provide against political backsliding.
Why does all of this matter beyond campaign speeches? Because Thailand’s Constitutional Court has already made any grand plans harder to execute. In a ruling that complicates the pro-overhaul argument, the Court stated that drafting a new constitution would require three separate referendums and explicitly barred elected MPs from serving as charter drafters. Those constraints raise the financial bar and complicate political calculations: three referendums mean multiple national votes, higher costs and extended periods of political uncertainty — exactly the problems the opposing parties keep warning against.
The conservative trio’s stance highlights a broader political tension in Thailand: the balance between reform and stability. On one side, advocates for a new constitution argue that a fresh charter could repair systemic flaws and broaden democratic participation. On the other, conservatives are convinced that the 2017 document embeds essential checks and counterbalances born from recent political upheavals. Their prescription? A pragmatic middle path — amend what’s necessary, don’t scrap the whole book.
There’s also a public-opinion angle. Jade’s one-on-one encounters with voters revealed a patchwork of expectations: some citizens want deep change, others crave assurance that institutions remain intact. That ambivalence is fertile ground for political messaging: parties can either stoke fear of instability or promise measured reform. Conservatives, for the moment, are betting on the latter.
With the Constitutional Court’s procedural hurdles and persistent concerns about costs, corruption safeguards and political rehabilitation of disqualified figures, the debate over Thailand’s constitution is likely to remain heated — but cautious. The conservative parties’ message is clear: the charter can be improved without being wiped away, and any attempt to reboot the system should come with a price tag, a timeline and a plan to prevent chaos.
As the country watches, the question isn’t only whether the 2017 constitution should be replaced. It’s whether Thai politics can reconcile competing demands for reform and stability without triggering the very instability it seeks to avoid. For now, conservatives want the answer to be “no” to a full rewrite and “yes” to careful, targeted fixes — a position that will shape debates, campaigns and possibly the future of the Thai political landscape in the months to come.
Amending the 2017 constitution is about practicality, not nostalgia. A full rewrite would cost taxpayers and create months of uncertainty we can’t afford. Fix the broken parts and keep the stabilizing mechanisms.
But who decides what’s ‘broken’? The elites who wrote it might just trim the edges to keep power. That feels like a bandage, not real reform.
I hear the concern and voters in Nakhon Ratchasima did too, but sweeping change risks undoing anti-corruption safeguards and inviting chaos. Targeted amendments with transparent committees are a compromise.
Transparent committees? LOL. You trust them like you trust market forecasts. Who watches the watchers?
Skepticism is healthy, but the alternative is multiple referendums and months of instability per the Constitutional Court. Let’s design oversight that includes civil society and independent auditors.
Including civil society is key, but they need legal power, not just advisory roles. Otherwise it’s window dressing.
Exactly. Too many ‘advisors’ and no teeth. Been there, seen it.
Economics aside, people want justice and accountability. If the charter prevents criminals from returning, that matters more than money for most voters.
I think the cost argument is a political cover. Money matters, but so do rights and democratic norms.
Dismantling the charter risks weakening safeguards against corruption and external influence. A cautious approach with surgical amendments preserves stability and critical institutions.
As a constitutional scholar, I agree nuance is necessary, but the Court’s ruling on multiple referendums complicates incrementalism. Any plan must be legally airtight.
Precisely why legal strategy matters. Amendments can be staged to respect the Court’s constraints and still produce meaningful reform without a full overhaul.
Staged amendments sound like stall tactics when people want systemic change. How long before ‘staged’ becomes permanent?
I’m middle-aged and frankly tired of endless debate. If the constitution keeps the corrupt out, I’m fine with tweaking, not replacing.
Some provisions bar figures with criminal backgrounds from returning, and that practical protection matters. Tossing the whole charter could invite political backsliding.
That’s convenient for those currently benefiting from the rules. Who decides eligibility to run is political too.
The point is not convenience but preventing a repeat of past abuses. Any decision must be subject to transparent legal standards, not partisan bargaining.
But what if the rules themselves were rigged to exclude legitimate opposition? Safeguards can become tools.
Pirapan’s right to an extent; we need safe-guards, but also checks on who interprets them.
This feels like the same old players arguing over the same old rules. The system protects itself while people get frustrated. I want results, not debates.
You want quick results but real change requires legal precision and civic engagement. Quick fixes often break other things.
Maybe, but slow change feels like no change at all. Where’s the accountability?
Accountability comes from independent institutions and a vibrant media, neither of which survive on vague promises.
Sometimes the only way systems change is through pressure, even if messy. Stability is overrated when it preserves injustice.
The public is mixed and that’s the conservative advantage: promise calm. But is calm just the status quo wearing a new coat of paint? That worries me.
Calm can mean predictability and rule of law, or stagnation and capture. The difference lies in the process for amendments and inclusive participation.
Exactly. If the process is hijacked, ‘amend’ becomes ‘cement the advantage.’ We need procedural guarantees.
The Constitutional Court’s three-referendum requirement is a real barrier. It makes a full rewrite almost impossible without huge expense and delay.
Three referendums sounds like a recipe for voter fatigue and manipulation. People will tune out after one.
And voter fatigue means low turnout, which can legitimize extreme outcomes. That’s dangerous.
Or it prevents rash changes. The Court’s constraint could be a safeguard against hasty rewrites driven by short-term politics.
A middle path appeals to moderates, but those moderates might be the very people who want deeper democratic reforms. Is incrementalism just postponing the inevitable?
Not necessarily. Incremental legal reforms, if well-designed, can cumulatively produce systemic change without destabilizing institutions.
Cumulatively only if every step is protected from capture. That’s the tricky bit.
Some of us feel reforms are cosmetic and that the judiciary and military still call the shots regardless of the charter.
This debate is partly about narratives: conservatives sell stability, progressives sell fix-it-now. Both narratives spin; voters decide which risk they accept.
Voters often choose the lesser evil, not the ideal. That’s political realism, not surrender.
Realism is necessary, but we should keep pushing for principled long-term goals while accepting tactical compromises.
Tactical compromises too often become permanent entrenchments. We need clear sunset clauses on any ‘temporary’ measures.
As a teacher, I tell kids: rules can be changed but don’t rip up the rulebook every term. Consistency matters for learning and trust.
Nice metaphor, but sometimes the rulebook is unfair and teaches the wrong lessons. Then you need a new textbook.
Fair point. Replace pages, not the whole textbook, unless it’s utterly corrupt. Start with the worst chapters.
Which chapters are worst? That’s where politics comes in and things get messy quickly.
I’m suspicious of claims that a rewrite invites foreign influence. That sounds like fearmongering to stop change. Who benefits from that line?
It’s not fearmongering; new constitutional processes open negotiation channels that foreign actors can try to exploit. We must be cautious.
Possible, but we should focus on safeguards, not shut down legitimate domestic reform by saying ‘foreign influence’ like a magic word.
Both sides have a point: guardrails against external meddling are necessary, but they shouldn’t be used to block accountability reforms.
Foreign influence talk is always a useful bogeyman. Distracts from who really pulls the strings at home.
Legal mechanics matter: who drafts amendments, who vets them, and what trigger thresholds are required. Without clarity, ‘amend’ becomes ambiguous and contested.
So we need clear rules for participation, drafting, and ratification, with representation for minorities and watchdogs. Easier said than done.
True, but drafting that roadmap is more important than slogans. It’s where reforms live or die.
And who enforces the roadmap matters. Courts can’t be the only enforcers if they’re perceived as partisan.
Can universities help by offering neutral facilitation? Seems like a place to start without massive expense.
Young people I talk to want bold change; elders prefer stability. That generational split makes a single path unlikely. Politics must bridge that gap.
Bridging sounds good, but generational interests conflict over basic things like amnesty and who can run again. That’s nontrivial.
Right, so any compromise needs clear timelines and guarantees, not vague promises about ‘future review.’
Timelines help, but guarantees require trust. Building that trust is the hard political work.
Young energy will push for more risk. The question is whether institutions can absorb that risk without collapsing.