The Thai People's Front

[Bossza007]

February 1, 2005
Sappaya-Sapasathan, Bangkok
10:00 ICT (GMT +7)​

Thanathoran Juangroongruangkit, leader of the Progressive Party and the newly elected General Secretary of the Thai People’s Front​

Sappaya-Sapasathan, the epicenter of Thailand’s political power, was draped in red, with Communist flags swaying to the strains of “The Internationale.” This day was more than a political gathering; it was the embodiment of the Thai socialist movement’s collective will, convened at the First People’s Front Congress within the National Assembly. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation. This congress wasn’t a mere formality; it was a crucial moment to test the People’s Front's unity, vision, and resolve as they looked toward the future. The decisions made here would influence not only the party’s direction but also the trajectory of the entire Socialist Republic of Thailand. With Thaksin Shinawatra in his final term as Prime Minister and two years until the next national election, the assembly was set to debate and determine the coalition’s future leadership, solidifying the ideological and strategic path toward a stateless, classless society.

The People’s Front was a coalition of four distinct parties, each with its own ideological focus, political base, and strategic priorities. The Thai Rak Thai Party, the coalition’s leading force, championed the country’s socialist agenda, emphasizing economic decentralization and collective ownership. The Progressive Party pushed for participatory democracy and environmental sustainability, positioning itself as the coalition’s voice for social and environmental justice. The National Socialist Party (NSP) brought a nationalist perspective, focusing on national sovereignty and economic self-reliance. Meanwhile, the Thai Liberal Socialist Party occupied a more moderate space, advocating for a mixed economy that blended socialism with market mechanisms. The Congress would serve as a platform for these parties to assert their influence, negotiate power-sharing, and align on a unified agenda.

The grand hall of Sappaya-Sapasathan buzzed with a mix of excitement and tension as delegates from across Thailand filled the space. Red banners adorned the walls, flanked by the flags of the four coalition parties. The scent of coffee mingled with the heavy weight of history. As the last delegates settled in, a hush fell over the assembly. Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, his face etched with the gravity of the moment, stepped up to the podium. The room collectively held its breath. “Comrades,” he began, his voice firm yet tinged with emotion. “We stand at a crossroads. For six years, we’ve laid the foundation of our socialist republic. Now, we must choose who will lead us forward on our path to a truly classless society.” The crowd erupted in applause, a sea of raised fists and determined faces. As the cheer subsided, Thaksin continued, “Today, we will hear from each party. We will debate, we will disagree, but in the end, we must emerge united. The future of our revolution depends on it.”

As Prime Minister Thaksin stepped back from the podium, a palpable shift rippled through the grand hall. The charged air seemed to crackle with newfound energy. All eyes turned to the left of the stage as Thanathorn Juangroonggruangkit of the Progressive Party rose from his seat. At that moment, Thanathorn cut a striking figure. His lean frame, clad in a crisp white shirt and red tie, moved with purpose toward the podium. The light caught the silver streak in his dark hair, a testament to the years he’d dedicated to the cause. His bright, determined eyes scanned the sea of faces before him. As he reached the podium, applause erupted from the Progressive Party delegates. Their cheers soon spread, building into a thunderous roar that echoed through the hall. Thanathorn raised a hand, a small smile playing on his lips as he waited for the clamor to subside.

“Friends, comrades, fellow architects of our shared future,” Thanathorn began, his voice clear and resonant. The microphone carried his words to every corner of the hall, but it was the intensity of his gaze that truly commanded attention. “We stand here today not at the end of our journey, but at a critical juncture. It’s time to accelerate our pace, to push our revolution further than we ever imagined.” He paused, letting his words settle. In the front row, veteran members of the Thai Rak Thai Party leaned forward, their expressions a mix of curiosity and caution. “For six years, we’ve laid the groundwork for a society rooted in equality and collective ownership. We’ve seen worker cooperatives thrive and felt the strength of democratic decision-making in our communities. But comrades, we must ask ourselves—is this enough?” A murmur rippled through the crowd. Thanathorn’s voice grew more passionate, more urgent.

“I tell you; it is not! Our revolution must go beyond economics. It must redefine our relationship with the world around us. We must push for environmental sustainability, for a green economy that not only sustains us but allows us to thrive in harmony with our planet.” In the middle of the hall, delegates from the National Socialist Party shifted uneasily, their whispers of “national sovereignty” and “self-reliance” growing louder, a counterpoint to Thanathorn’s vision of global environmental cooperation. But he pressed on, his conviction unwavering. “We must fight for true participatory democracy in every workplace, every community, every aspect of our lives. Our revolution must be green, comrades, or it will wither!” As he spoke, his hand moved expressively, punctuating each point. Behind him, on the massive screen, images flashed—solar farms spreading across former rice paddies, wind turbines rising from the Gulf of Thailand, community assemblies gathering in town squares. The visuals drove home his message, urging the audience to envision a future where their ideals were fully realized.

“Imagine a Thailand where every citizen isn’t just a passive recipient of policy, but an active creator of our shared future. Where the air in Bangkok is as clean as the pristine beaches of Koh Samui. Where our industries lead the world in innovation and sustainability, not exploitation.” In the right wing of the hall, members of the Thai Liberal Socialist Party listened closely. Some nodded cautiously, recognizing potential allies in Thanathorn’s pragmatic approach to blending market mechanisms with socialism. Others scribbled notes, already preparing questions and counterpoints. As Thanathorn’s speech reached its peak, the energy in the room became electric. “Comrades, the choice before us is clear. We can rest on our laurels, content with what we’ve achieved, or we can seize this moment—this opportunity—to create a Thailand that doesn’t just survive the 21st century but leads it into a sustainable, equitable future. History is waiting. What say you, comrades? Are you ready to accelerate our revolution?”

The response was immediate and overwhelming. Cheers erupted from every corner of the hall, delegates leaping to their feet in a standing ovation. Even those who disagreed couldn’t help but be moved by the passion and vision Thanathorn had laid out. As the applause continued, he stood at the podium, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of his speech. His eyes shone with a blend of hope and determination. He knew his words had ignited a spark, but the real challenge lay ahead—turning that spark into a flame that would guide Thailand’s socialist revolution into its next phase. The debates that would follow promised to be fierce and transformative.

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows through the high windows of Sappaya-Sapasathan, tension thickened in the grand hall. The morning’s initial excitement had given way to heated debates and barely concealed frustrations. The unity of the People’s Front was under strain like never before. Suddenly, the doors at the back of the hall flew open. Sereepisuth Temeeyaves, the firebrand leader of the National Socialist Party, marched down the central aisle, his weathered face set in grim determination. Without waiting for an introduction, he grabbed the microphone. “Comrades!” His voice boomed through the speakers, silencing all chatter. “We stand at a precipice. While some would have us dance to the tune of foreign powers, I say we must stand firm in our sovereignty!” Sereepisuth’s words electrified the room. Supporters leapt to their feet, fists raised, chanting, “Thai land, Thai hands!” Others booed and jeered, the cacophony threatening to overwhelm the proceedings. “Our revolution was built on the sweat and blood of Thai workers, not foreign ideologues!” Sereepisuth continued, his voice rising above the din. “We reject any notion of ‘international solidarity’ that undermines our national self-reliance!”

As he spoke, the camera panned across the faces in the crowd, capturing a spectrum of emotions. Young Progressive Party members shook their heads in dismay, while older Thai Rak Thai veterans looked grudgingly, acknowledging little merit in Sereepisuth’s words. No sooner had Sereepisuth stepped down than Korn Chatikavanij, leader of the Thai Liberal Socialist Party and incumbent Finance Minister, took the stage. His crisp suit and measured tone provided a stark contrast to Sereepisuth’s fiery rhetoric. “Fellow socialists,” he began, his voice calm but firm. “We must not let fear drive us to isolationism. Our path forward lies in careful balance—a mixed economy that harnesses the efficiency of markets within our socialist frameworks.” As Korn outlined his party’s vision, the camera caught the reactions of the delegates. Hardline members of Thai Rak Thai crossed their arms, skepticism etched deep in their faces at what the person at the helm of Thailand’s economic planning board was saying. Yet others leaned forward, intrigued by this middle ground between rigid state control and the regulated market of social democracy they had long considered obsolete.

The tension in the room was thick, delegates clustered in tight groups, their voices rising in heated debate. The People's Front seemed on the verge of splintering, its dream of a united socialist Thailand teetering on the edge. Then, a stir near the back of the hall drew everyone’s attention. A small, elderly woman was slowly making her way to the podium, helped by a young delegate. The room fell silent, curiosity overtaking the previous discord. Somying Sae-Tao, her gray hair pulled back in a simple bun, gripped the lectern with hands weathered by years of hard work. At 72, she had spent the last decade as a member of one of Bangkok’s most successful worker cooperatives. The microphone squealed as she leaned in, but when she spoke, her voice was clear and steady. "Comrades," she began, her eyes sweeping the room, "I’ve seen our country change. I remember the days when I had no voice, when my labor enriched others while my family struggled to survive."

The hall remained hushed, all eyes fixed on this unexpected speaker. "But I’ve also felt the power of owning my workplace, of having a real voice in decisions that shape my life." Somying’s voice wavered slightly, thick with emotion. "Our revolution has given us so much, but our work isn’t finished." She paused, her gaze moving over the factional leaders who had spoken before her. "We need a leader who understands both our dreams and our struggles. Someone who can unite us, not divide us further." Somying’s hands gripped the lectern tighter. "I’ve heard talk of sovereignty, of mixed economies, of green revolutions. These are all important. But remember, comrades – at the heart of our movement are the workers, the farmers, the ordinary people of Thailand. Choose wisely, for all our sakes." As Somying stepped back from the microphone, the hall erupted in applause. Delegates from every faction rose to their feet, many wiping tears from their eyes. Her words lingered in the air, a powerful reminder of what was truly at stake.

The sun had long set by the time the applause finally subsided. The chandeliers of Sappaya-Sapasathan cast a warm glow over the delegates, who were now preparing for the crucial vote. Volunteers moved through the hall, distributing ballot papers with solemn expressions that reflected the gravity of the moment. The rustle of paper and low whispers filled the room, as last-minute negotiations took place in hushed tones. As delegates approached the ballot boxes, tension hung in the air. Some walked confidently, their decisions firm. Others hesitated, the competing visions for Thailand's future weighing heavily on their minds.

As the final votes were tallied, the grand hall fell into a hushed silence. The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of history pressing down on every delegate. Surakiart Sathirathai, the Foreign Minister and Thaksin’s trusted ally, stood near the front, his typically composed demeanor revealing a flicker of anxiety. He had been the clear favorite, expected to continue Thaksin’s legacy. But as the results were announced, a collective gasp swept through the assembly. “Comrades,” the election official’s voice trembled slightly as it echoed through the hall, “I hereby declare Thanathorn Juangroonggruangkit as the new leader of the People’s Front.” For a moment, the hall was silent, the unexpected result sinking in. Then, as if a dam had burst, cheers erupted from Thanathorn’s supporters. The Progressive Party delegates leapt to their feet, their jubilant cries reverberating through the ornate chamber. In stark contrast, the Thai Rak Thai members sat in stunned silence, exchanging bewildered glances.

Thanathorn, his face a blend of elation and disbelief, approached the podium. As he raised his hands, the room gradually quieted, the anticipation palpable. His voice, when he spoke, was steady and resolute. "Comrades, friends, fellow revolutionaries," he began, his eyes sweeping over the sea of faces before him. "I stand here humbled by your trust and energized by the task ahead. Today’s victory isn’t mine alone—it’s a testament to our shared desire for progress and change." He paused, locking eyes with Surakiart in the crowd. With a nod of acknowledgment, he continued, "I extend my deepest respect to Comrade Surakiart and the Thai Rak Thai Party. Your leadership has brought us to this point, and your wisdom will be vital as we move forward." A murmur of approval rippled through the hall, and Surakiart, ever the statesman, responded with a small smile and nod.

Thanathorn's voice grew more passionate as he addressed the issues that had dominated the congress. “To our comrades in the National Socialist Party, I hear your call for sovereignty. Our path forward will not compromise our national identity but will instead strengthen it through sustainable development and innovation.” Sereepisuth Temeeyaves, the fiery NSP leader, crossed his arms but gave a grudging nod. “To our friends in the Thai Liberal Socialist Party,” Thanathorn continued, turning to where Korn Chatikavanij sat, “your pragmatism will be invaluable as we navigate the complexities of our economic future. Together, we will strike the balance between our socialist principles and the realities of the global economy.” Korn leaned forward, his expression cautious but hopeful. "And to my own Progressive Party," Thanathorn’s voice swelled with emotion, "your unwavering commitment to participatory democracy and environmental sustainability will be the bedrock of our future policies."

As Thanathorn’s speech neared its conclusion, he invoked the words of Somying Sae-Tao, the elderly worker who had spoken earlier. “Let us never forget that at the heart of our movement are the workers, the farmers, the ordinary people of Thailand. It is for them that we strive, for them that we must unite.” The hall erupted In applause, delegates from all factions rising to their feet. Even those who had opposed Thanathorn found themselves caught up in the moment, the promise of a united front overcoming their reservations. As the applause died down, a familiar melody began to play. The opening notes of “The Internationale” filled the air, and without prompting, delegates began to link arms. Thanathorn stepped down from the podium, joining hands with Surakiart on one side and Sereepisuth on the other. Korn quickly joined them, and soon the entire hall was a sea of interlocked arms and raised voices.​

Stand up all victims of oppression
For the tyrants fear your might
Don’t cling so hard to your possessions
For you have nothing if you have no rights
Let racist ignorance be ended
For respect makes the empires fall
Freedom is merely privilege extended
Unless enjoyed by one and all
So come brothers and sisters
For the struggle carries on
The internationale
Unites the world in song
So comrades come rally
For this is the time and place
The international ideal
Unites the human race
Let no one build walls to divide us
Walls of hatred nor walls of stone
Come greet the dawn and stand beside us
We’ll live together or we’ll die alone
In our world poisoned by exploitation
Those who have taken now they must give
And end the vanity of nations
We’ve but one earth on which to live
And so begins the final drama
In the streets and in the fields
We stand unbowed before their armor
We defy their guns and shields
When we fight provoked by their aggression
Let us be inspired by like and love
For though they offer us concessions
Change will not come from above​

The song swelled, voices joining in harmony despite the fierce debates that had preceded this moment. As they sang, tears glistened in many eyes, the emotion of the day finally finding release. Outside Sappaya-Sapasathan, the bustling streets of Bangkok continued their nightly rhythm, unaware of the seismic shift that had just occurred within the halls of power. Street vendors hawked their wares, motorbikes weaved through traffic, and neon signs flickered to life as darkness fell. Yet even as the city went about its business, ripples of change were already spreading. In coffee shops and noodle stalls, whispers of Thanathorn’s victory began to circulate. Workers in cooperatives discussed what this might mean for their industries. Environmental activists dared to dream of a greener future. As the delegates finally emerged from Sappaya-Sapasathan, their faces etched with exhaustion but glowing with purpose, they melted into the city’s nightlife. They carried with them the seeds of change, ready to plant them in every corner of Thailand.

In his office high above the city, Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra stood at the window, watching the twinkling lights of Bangkok. A small smile played on his lips as he considered the day’s events. The torch had been passed, not as he had expected, but perhaps as Thailand needed. As he turned back to his desk, his eyes fell on a framed photo of a younger Thanathorn, taken years ago at a party rally. “Well, young man,” Thaksin murmured, “let’s see what you can do.” And so, as Bangkok slept, the wheels of change began to turn. The People’s Front had chosen its path, and soon, all of Thailand would feel its impact. A new chapter in the nation’s socialist journey was about to begin, full of promise, challenge, and the enduring hope of a truly democratic, sustainable, and equal society.

​

 

[Bossza007]

February 2, 2005
Moonlit House Complex, Bangkok
10:00 ICT (GMT +7)​

Thanathoran Juangroongruangkit, leader of the Progressive Party, Minister of Industry, and the second General Secretary of the Thai People’s Front​

A day after Thanathorn’s unexpected victory in the leadership contest during the First People’s Front Congress, the Thai political landscape was in flux. From serene cafes to bustling worker cooperatives, ordinary citizens engaged in conversations about the significant shift in their country’s political landscape. Many of them, as members of the People’s Front coalition, had directly influenced this outcome. The Secretariat of the People’s Front later released detailed voting statistics, revealing that Thanathorn had narrowly defeated Foreign Minister Surakiart Sathirathai, the presumed frontrunner, with 6.7 million votes to Surakiart’s 6.2 million. An additional 2 million votes were cast for candidates from the National Socialist Party and the Thai Liberal Socialist Party. For political experts and well-informed citizens, these numbers underscored a deep ideological divide within the People’s Front.

Thanathorn arrived by public electric bus at the Moonlit House, an apartment complex in Dusit District where Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra resided. Dressed in a formal dark blue suit, he stepped out into the glare of cameras from various news outlets stationed at the entrance. Although Thanathorn had hoped for a more private meeting to facilitate an open conversation with Thaksin, his newfound prominence meant that public scrutiny had intensified. As he approached the entrance, a journalist from Channel 7 pushed through the crowd, her microphone thrust forward. “Mr. Thanathorn, what are you planning to discuss with Mr. Thaksin today? Why the urgency?” she asked.

Thanathorn paused briefly, a confident smile on his face as he addressed the reporter’s question. “The members of the People’s Front have placed their trust in me to guide our coalition toward a future where communism is realized—a vision that is inherently democratic. In any true democracy, transitions of power should be peaceful, respectful, and swift. Thank you.” With that, he gestured politely for the media to allow him to proceed. Though they hadn’t gotten many questions answered, the journalists seemed satisfied. Thanathorn’s willingness to engage, treating them with respect, resonated with his principles of equality. He ascended the stairs to the fourth floor, where Thaksin’s apartment was located. The building’s design was a modern blend of architectural influences from different eras, a reflection of the diverse history it had witnessed. Along the way, he greeted several people warmly, embodying the egalitarian spirit he championed.

Reaching the door, secured by advanced biometric systems, Thanathorn paused, taking in the significance of the moment. Though still the Industry Minister under Thaksin’s administration, the usual hierarchy felt almost nonexistent now. He had been chosen to carry forward Thaksin’s vision for a truly classless, stateless, and moneyless society. With three firm knocks, the screen on the electronic doorknob flickered, signaling the door’s release. Thaksin appeared casually dressed in contrast to Thanathorn’s formal attire. “Mr. Thaksin, good morning!” Thanathorn greeted him with a respectful Thai bow. As he took in Thaksin’s relaxed appearance, he chuckled softly, “It seems I was a bit too eager in my choice of outfit today.” His warm laughter underscored the camaraderie and mutual respect between them.

Thaksin’s eyes widened slightly as he took in Thanathorn’s formal attire. “Why not? I expected you might go for something less formal since you texted about a casual conversation last night,” he remarked, gesturing for Thanathorn to come inside. The apartment’s interior was meticulously arranged, exuding a sense of warmth and comfort. Soft sunlight streamed through the windows, a reminder that the world outside never paused for any occasion. “My daughter, Ink, is studying interior design at Thammasat,” Thaksin said as he walked toward the kitchen counter, expertly mixing ingredients into two cups. “I thought letting her handle the room’s design would give her some practical experience.” He handed Thanathorn a cup. “After all the coffee we had yesterday, I figured a traditional Thai tea would clear our minds.”

“Too much caffeine can be rough on our delegates,” Thanathorn replied, accepting the tea with a nod of gratitude. He settled into the sofa across from Thaksin, appreciating its comforting blend of familiarity and novelty. “I didn’t know Ink had enrolled at Thammasat. Congratulations to her. Interior design is in high demand, especially with all the new projects sprouting up across the country.” Thaksin nodded, his expression attentive as he sensed the shift in Thanathorn’s tone. After a brief pause, Thanathorn continued, his voice calm but edged with concern. “I need your counsel on maintaining the People’s Front’s fragile unity. My victory over Surakiart was by only five hundred thousand votes out of nearly 15 million. The coalition is deeply fractured, and I’m not confident I can mend it on my own.”

Thaksin nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious as he leaned forward. “Last month, I met with Vietnamese President Lương to discuss the establishment of the Socialist International. He warned me that the greatest threat to our cause is not external opposition, but the internal divisions that weaken us from within,” he said, pausing to take a sip of his tea. “While all four parties in our coalition are committed to democratic socialism, there’s disagreement over the pace and approach of our post-revolution governance, particularly regarding economic and societal reforms. The coalition government I lead emerged from painstaking negotiations to find policies we could all support, despite our shared ideological foundation. If you’re seeking guidance, it’s important that you first outline your approach so I can offer advice that’s truly relevant.”

Thanathorn nodded, acknowledging the weight of Thaksin’s words. “I’ve been reflecting on ways to present a united front for our socialist movement, both domestically and internationally, but I want that unity to be genuine,” he admitted. “However, there’s a challenge in promoting international solidarity while also addressing the nationalist leanings of the National Socialist Party. My party and its supporters believe the nation-state is neither sustainable nor necessary in the long run. But as long as the global economy operates outside a socialist framework, the state can’t simply wither away. And then there’s the Thai Liberal Party—Finance Minister Korn has been pivotal in shaping our economic policies. He’s a sharp Marxian economist, and I suspect he’s influenced Thai Rak Thai’s original market socialism stance. As long as the nation-state persists, I’ll have to incorporate their policy recommendations,” Thanathorn added, his tone heavy with concern.

Thaksin leaned forward, his gaze steady and deliberate. “Your party’s platform takes a neutral stance on the current socialist economic framework,” he began, his tone clear and purposeful. “You emphasize participatory democracy, environmental sustainability, international cooperation, and domestic industry expansion—all within the bounds of democratic socialism. As long as you view the state as a transitional entity, as Marxist theory suggests, there’s no set timeline for its dissolution. A state only withers away when it becomes obsolete. Is that the case now? I don’t believe so, Thanathorn.” He paused to let his words sink in before continuing. “The key is to trust in the current system as a means to achieve a truly classless society. Remember, it took the Soviet Union over seventy years to collapse, and even then, it didn’t realize socialism. The socialism we’re building in Thailand today is something Lenin, Stalin, and others could only dream of. We’re forging a path no one has fully traversed before. There’s no need to rush—we’re making history, not repeating it.”

Thanathorn swallowed, absorbing Thaksin’s advice. The Prime Minister’s reputation as both a visionary idealist and a pragmatic strategist was well-earned. “You always seem to find clarity in the diversity of our coalition through decisive leadership,” Thanathorn acknowledged. “I’m more inclined to rely on intellectual depth to rally our cause, rather than assertive action. But perhaps there’s merit in your approach. You’ve never struggled with factionalism the way I do. People see you as the face of our socialist movement, yet they still regard you as their equal. You’ve set a legacy and a standard that’s daunting for anyone to meet, Thaksin. A leader like you casts a long shadow. If anyone’s shadow is longer, it would be Chuan Leekpai’s, the founding father of this Republic.”

Thaksin nodded, his demeanor calm and reflective. “I take neither pride nor resentment in the elevated status others ascribe to me,” he said. “I see it as a natural part of our long history. As long as you don’t advocate for centralizing our radically decentralized system, you’ll remain a facilitator and coordinator, just as I am. My executive power, like yours in the Industry Ministry, is rooted in the legislature. And that legislature’s legitimacy comes from the people and the grassroots movement. Revolution is an ongoing process, even after the old order is overthrown. True success will come slowly but surely. If you want that success to be real, the answer lies in uniting workers’ movements across the globe. Remember, the struggle of workers in one nation is the struggle of all workers.”

Thanathorn nodded, his voice growing more confident. “I never lose sight of the fact that workers worldwide are still exploited by capitalism while we’re building a successful workers’ state in Thailand. Your administration’s decision to form the Socialist International with Vietnam is a crucial step toward the global transition from capitalism to socialism. It’s reassuring to have close comrades in Vietnam. This proves our movement isn’t isolated. One of the worst places for worker exploitation is Egypt, and I’m glad we’re pushing for the International Court of Justice to reaffirm that international law supersedes national sovereignty, as history has shown. I understand that our ally in France has also submitted a strong case against the Egyptian Interdiction Zone. This is a significant step toward containing Egypt’s imperialist ambitions. A rogue state like Egypt, which doesn’t support its workers, has no place in the world.”

Thaksin smiled grimly, acknowledging Thanathorn’s bold stance. “Yes, Egypt certainly disregards international law. Handling Egypt’s totalitarian regime isn’t directly my responsibility—Surakiart oversees our policy on that front. But we’ve managed to create an international spotlight, exposing the evils of the Egyptian monarchy and its corrupt systems. Much of this is thanks to Piyabutr, your party’s Justice Minister. He and his team have spent over a year preparing this case, using every moment allowed by the ICJ to refine our argument. There’s no way we can lose this case unless the ICJ decides that customary international law and legal precedents no longer matter. Frankly, I’m impressed by how comprehensive our case is. I believe we’re presenting the most significant legal challenge since the dissolution of the United Nations and the rise of the Global Assembly.”

Thanathorn sipped his tea, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. “I’m glad to hear that from you. We rarely get the chance to discuss this topic in cabinet meetings, especially since the National Assembly Joint Defense Committee has already mandated a more open and legalistic approach against Egypt.” He paused briefly. “The People’s Front holds 420 of the 600 seats in the Lower House, while my party controls only 100. Leading the government’s legislative efforts is daunting. The Democrat Party has been pushing through many progressive and reform bills. Their Opposition leader, Abhisit, controls just 80 seats in the Assembly. He’s very capable, but you know him well from your weekly Prime Minister’s Questions sessions.”

Thaksin regarded Thanathorn with interest. “Ensuring the People’s Front wins the next election is your responsibility. As I’m stepping down after my final term to serve as Government Secretary under the next administration, I must remain impartial. Trust in your grassroots movement. Democratic socialism thrives on the passion of those who believe in our cause at the local level. Though you’re young, you’re not new to Thai politics. The fact that you were elected by our first congress last night shows you’re a seasoned statesman. People are looking for change that is both radical and stable.” Thaksin observed that Thanathorn was listening intently. The conversation underscored the smooth and peaceful transition of power, achieved through legitimate democratic processes.​