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Published on April 2, 2008

The definition "Highest Law of the Land" was designed only for primary-school kids in the same way you let your child believe that life is beautiful, up to a certain age.

So, when a bunch of weird characters - the likes of Samak Sundaravej, Chalerm Yoobamrung, Snoh Thienthong or Newin Chidchob - plan to spearhead a drive to rewrite the new Constitution, just sit back and watch the comedy. This is the speciality of Thai democracy - election victory gives you a blank sheet of paper, and you are entitled to declare whatever you like as the highest set of national values.

This latest farce won't be the last. Our "highest" values have undergone more changes than our anti-prostitution act, and that shows how low they have sunk. The predicament has to do with two blatant misunderstandings. First, we equate Constitution with political power. Second, the real source of constitutional power doesn't realise its role, duty and authority.

Simply put, politicians and, once in a while, the military, think the Constitution belongs to them, whereas Thai citizens either couldn't care less or believe it when told that those with political power decide what a charter should look like, what conforms with it and what goes against it.

Sometimes this "real force" tries to assert itself. But when changes occur through rare pressure and input from civil society, like in the 1997 charter, they don't last. Frustrated with corruption and the vested interests of politicians - which undermined and disrupted governments - the 1997 campaign produced what looked like an ideal Constitution that strictly prohibited conflict of interest. No need to say what happened afterward, and how disastrous the consequences have been.

Prime Minister Samak must have been as confused as the rest of us when he said a few days ago that he preferred the 1997 constitutional "foundations" to those laid down by the coup-makers in 2007. In effect, Samak seemingly wants to revive a Constitution that virtually sought to deny his alleged master, Thaksin Shinawatra, the right to play politics, and that revival would come through the deconstruction of another Constitution that sought to reinforce the will of the former charter, albeit through possibly undemocratic means.

This messy paradox is just an example of what we get when constitutional values are decided by political power. The military-engineered 2007 charter was created with the sole purpose of blocking Thaksin Shinawatra's return, the current "constitutional reformers" claim. But this brings us back to the very fundamental question: should Thaksin have been blocked under the 1997 charter?

It will never end. The 2008 constitutional version will most likely be deemed a pro-Thaksin charter. The government camp has declared its intention to nullify the post-coup investigation into his alleged abuse of power. Such an amendment will haul all of us back to square one, unless an article is added to allow conflict of interest in government, no matter how serious.

This is a battleground on which it isn't worth spilling your blood. In most cases, Thailand's charters are not about who we are and what we want, but rather what "they" are and what "they" want. That's why every Thai Constitution contains hundreds of articles; they are meant not to foster key principles, but prevent smart crooks from getting around them.

There have been some good charters, including the 1997 one. But the fact remains that worse constitutions lasted longer. Hopeless and desperate as we are, what sounds more comforting - that we are a people of no permanent principles, or that Thailand's charters are all about the power game, not real values?

If the question is disturbing, worse is the possibility that it can be both. It's likely that constant power games may have turned us into a nation without core values. We Thais may have been dictated to over what's good and what's bad by people whose only job is portraying what's bad as good.

Yes, we should stop believing in the "charter is the highest law of the land" fairytale, although that may subsequently cost us the idealistic urge to defend it with our life. Sad, but we always lose something as we grow old, don't we?

tulsathit taptim

tulsathit@nationgroup.com

The Nation