Ceasefire in south is just too good to be true

Just about all parties agree the whole thing is just too weird. A group of men in fake beards and moustaches, one of them donning Blues Brothers-style dark glasses, announcing an end to 100 years of armed struggle for the independence of the Malay historical homeland situated in Thailand's southernmost provinces.

No conditions were made. They just got tired of fighting and wanted to live in peace. Those who refused the order would be considered a renegade and subject to elimination, the head honcho said.

Immediately after the release of the videotaped statement, former Army chief General Chettha Thanajaro, the man who claimed credit for brokering an end to the violence, became the butt of jokes as attacks in the deep South continued unabated.

Chettha thought he could conveniently put the onus on the militants who refused to put down their weapons, simply because their self-proclaimed leaders, who would not even make known their names or organisation, said they had to quit.

Naturally, the identity of the three men immediately became an issue. In order to trust them, one must know how much weight they carry with the militants on the ground.

Army chief General Anupong Paochinda, while distancing himself from the failed publicity stunt, identified the "leader" as Malipeng Khan, a former insurgent commander who was active from 1984-87.

But then again, just about every separatist was active during that time; it was the height of the insurgency of the previous generation of militants.

Like Anupong, the foreign-affairs chief of the Patani United Liberation Organisation, Kasturi Mahkota, immediately distanced himself from the three men.

Others, speaking on condition of anonymity - one Army officer and an exiled leader, both of whom have directly dealt with Malipeng - dismissed Anupong's statement. "It was based on a decades-old photo of Malipeng. The guy in the video looked like Malipeng, so they simply assumed it was him," said the officer.

At first glance, it was clear someone with strong Thai nationalist leanings prepared the script for the man. One exiled Patani-Malay leader said the whole thing was a bit "insulting". The speaker made no reference to "Patani", the historical Malay homeland.

Moreover, he was speaking standard Malay, not the local Patani dialect. The flag was just as mysterious.

"Why would anyone listen to them? They don't even know them. This was just bad drama," the exiled leader said.

There is concern among various quarters the incident could damage a secret dialogue between the Army and exiled leaders of long-standing separatist groups.

This "pretalk" stage is delicate and could be politically costly if the process is not treated with care. Moreover, given how Thailand's top brass and others reacted to Thursday's announcement, it is clear that Thailand's security architects have yet to come to a consensus on the very idea of talking to the insurgents.

There is no indication this unofficial pretalk stage will evolve into formal peace talks anytime soon.

Then-prime minister Surayud Chulanont, during a May 2007 visit to Yala, told a press conference he had received "positive feedback" from an ongoing "dialogue" with separatist groups.

But what Chettha did was try to take a short cut to the solution instead of telling the people that reconciling with the Patani Malays would come with a price. He will have to ask them if they can live with the fact that not all of the people embrace the values and principles that define Thailand's nation-state.

The fact that Chettha jumped the gun shows that the former Army chief has little understanding or gives little consideration to the sensitivity of this issue that for much of the past century has pitted the Malay-speaking community against the Thai state.