BANGKOK, May 23 — For an indication of just how strange Thailand’s laws against insulting the monarchy can appear in practice, consider the little-known case of French engineer Lech Thomaz Kisilewicz.
Fourteen years ago, Kisilewicz was flying first class on a Thai Airways flight from Delhi to Tokyo via Bangkok. His stopover was a little longer than scheduled. Sitting in darkness over the Indian Ocean, he had tried to turn on his overhead light to eat his breakfast. The steward prevented him.
Thai Princess Somsawali was sleeping nearby and her police escort took immediate offence when Kisilewicz, according to court records, shouted: “I don’t want to be treated less than the king. I want first class service.” He was placed in custody as soon as the plane touched down.
Weeks later he was acquitted on grounds of “insufficient evidence” to justify the charge of affronting the royal family, despite pleading guilty and apologising to the king.
The case was one of dozens through the decades, ranging from drunken farangs—foreigners—defacing billboards as they stagger home, to local academics and activists engaging in sober debate. Lèse-majesté is no laughing matter; it is punishable by a minimum sentence of three years in jail, even though pardons after conviction are common.
The lèse-majesté laws are coming in for unprecedented debate following the laying of charges in several high-profile cases, including that against pro-monarchy activist Sondhi Limthongkul, and the recent exile of socialist British-Thai academic Giles Ji Ungpakorn.
Disrespect for King Bhumibol Adulyadej, Thailand’s revered constitutional monarch, was one of the reasons cited to justify the military coup that drove prime minister Thaksin Shinawatra from power in 2006.
While new prime minister Abhisit Vejjajiva is no fan of Thaksin, he did acknowledge problems with the implementation of lèse-majesté laws during his visit to Hong Kong last week.
Abhisit said he was working on “standard operating procedures” for police and Justice Department officials to guard against crackdowns on academics—and more absurd cases—while still protecting the reputations of the royal family, whose members could never bring a civil-court case for defamation.
“The problem is more with enforcement over the last few years. My own personal view is that too often the law has been abused or too liberally interpreted,” Abhisit said. Given the caution habitually displayed by Thai officials when it comes to royal affairs, his remarks are highly significant.
Abhisit is one of the first leaders to tackle what can be seen as a bureaucratic trap. Limited by a constitution that means he reigns but cannot rule, neither King Bhumibol nor his family have any involvement in decisions about whether to proceed with a prosecution.
What is more, the civil servants responsible for such decisions would never seek a royal opinion. Risk-averse as civil servants generally are, they err on the side of caution and prosecute.
This can lead to some unfortunate ironies. In a rare interview, King Bhumibol told the BBC in the late 1970s that he enjoyed watching The King and I—a production long banned in Thailand. The 1990s version of the Yul Brynner classic starring Chow Yun-fat and Jodie Foster was eventually shot in neighbouring Malaysia despite being offered to Thailand first.
The law dates back to the abolition of the absolute monarchy in 1932 and is unlikely to be scrapped. It is fair to say that many ordinary Thais would be outraged by any attempt to defame the king.
Thailand’s reverence towards King Bhumibol after 62 years on the throne is one of the most striking aspects of life there. But if Abhisit’s reforms can take hold, they will be a sensible step for the kingdom. —South China Morning Post





