Thaksin provides a tale of two cities

Where Thaksin Shinawatra is concerned, there are always two parallel webs of intrigue. The Western media in particular has focused mainly on only one: the so-called conspiracy to dethrone this "champion of the poor" through relentless street protests, military intervention and "unfair" exertion of judicial powers. The other side of Thaksin has somehow escaped the same intense scrutiny, even though it may provide answers to the question of why Thailand has been risking tearing itself apart over this man. It is understandable why, however, because unlocking Thaksin's financial myth, which has spread across the globe, is obviously harder than condemning the apparently unjust means to put away a democratically elected leader.

Like Thailand has experienced first-hand, Britain and its robust media may have discovered keeping track of Thaksin's business and financial transactions is not easy, if not impossible. London has kept its mouth shut on persistent rumours it recently froze some US$4.2 billion (Bt145 billion) of Thaksin's assets, which primarily had to do with his purchase and sale of the Manchester City Football Club. Neither confirmation nor denial has been made, and the stunning decision to revoke the visas of Thaksin and his former wife, Pojaman, was attributed solely to their convictions by the Thai courts.

As the British and other Western media continue to demonise the People's Alliance for Democracy and make stinging criticism against the Thai judiciary, the military and even the highest institution, the UK government has not said a word on the asset-seizure rumours even though a clarification could go a long way to putting things in a new perspective and giving Thailand a bit more justice, which she really deserves.

From certain international sources, the British authorities have become very suspicious of Thaksin's business and financial dealings. The first seeds of doubt allegedly came when it was discovered the money used to buy Manchester City appeared to come from everywhere - a strange thing, because Thaksin, who was abruptly ousted in a military coup, was not supposed to have sizeable assets handy abroad. Most of all, during his time as prime minister of Thailand, Thaksin never reported having assets stashed abroad. He even denied on the record any involvement with any offshore company, except Ample Rich, that was linked to him with damning evidence.

But it is anyone's guess as to whether the UK really has frozen $4.2 billion of his assets and, in case the rumours are true, why it decided to do so. It is safe to say that freezing funds occurs everywhere, and at the end of the day frozen assets could still be returned and would not constitute evidence of wrongdoing. (The UK authorities normally give the "beneficiary owners" of frozen assets six months to step forward to declare ownership, and a satisfactory explanation results in the funds being released to the owners.)

But in Thaksin's case, the world is in need of some missing jigsaw-puzzle pieces before the widespread misunderstanding of Thailand runs deeper than it already does. It is somewhat ironic that Thailand must endure so much condemnation for trying to figure out what Thaksin did with his money while similar suspicions in a place where he once sought exile is going unannounced and thus remains an issue the likes of The Economist or the Financial Times is unaware of. Very little investigation has appeared in the British and other Western media about Thaksin's assets and Manchester City, and that is no surprise.

Thailand has seen it all before. The transactions looked legitimate on the surface, and any numbers and names that did not fit were dismissed as "common practice everywhere". And when the names and numbers went beyond "not-unusual practice", they were simply too complicated and the trails simply too long to follow.

Thailand was wrecked because many people believed that Thaksin's election mandate and financial dealings, no matter how abnormal or downright fishy, should be treated as separate issues. When he first came to power, some said his past "honest mistakes" should be forgiven and forgotten. After those mistakes kept hounding him throughout his political tenure, there was a prominent school of thought that said "everyone does it" and so picking on Thaksin smacked of collective political jealousy and conspiracy.

Such an argument ignores the simple but glaring fact that while the majority of Thai politicians are not that clean, not everyone is into financial manoeuvrings as massive and complicated.

The Ample Rich saga, for example, involved share transfers between Thaksin and his children with money "borrowed" from Pojaman to buy her own shares to put in the offshore company. When these plots became part of the tax-free scheme in the sale of Shin Corp to Singapore's Temasek Holdings, it was obvious not everyone, let alone prime ministers who should have their countries' best interests at heart and uphold higher morals than other citizens, could engineer this kind of things.

The Thaksin-UK relationship is crucial, because whichever way it pans out, the issue will have a great bearing on Thai politics. Now that he has been kicked out of that country, if it is because London has a certain level of ethical standards that he cannot meet, sooner or later we must be allowed to know.

For all of its complications, the Thai political crisis does have something to do with clamouring for better political standards. It is one thing to revoke the Shinawatras' visas because they were convicted in Thailand; it is another to throw them out and lock the door because they did something considered unacceptable to British principles. After all, it is the UK's "democratic maturity" that Thaksin has always spoken highly of.