Since Songkran, more people seem worried that Thailand’s extreme inequality lies behind the political mess of recent years. Some Democrats justified their new tax proposals as measures to counter inequality. Pramon Suthiwong of the Thai Chamber of Commerce spoke eloquently about the need to moderate the social gap for the sake of political peace. Bowornsak Uwanno pronounced that the current conflicts are “about inequalities of economics and justice.”
The big gap in income and wealth between rich and poor is the most-noticed aspect of Thailand’s inequality. But it is not the only one. Every time people talk to one another or talk about someone else, they arrange people in a hierarchy of superiority and inferiority. The fact that these practices are so pervasive, so deeply engrained, shows how much some in the society value inequality and want to sustain it.
Societies which value equity make a point of using forms of personal address that erase difference. The extreme examples are post-revolutionary societies. In revolutionary France, everyone was addressed as “citizen” and in communist societies as “comrade.” This was perhaps trying too hard. But in most democratic societies, there are everyday forms of I, we, you, he, she, they which everyone can use to address anyone else without a thought about the social meaning. In Thailand this is much more difficult. Most pronouns have an in-built social weight. They don’t just say “I”, but “I who am bigger than you,” or “you who are smaller than me.” There are some value-free versions, but using them amounts to a rather showy choice. The value-laden versions are more conventional and easier to choose.
Then there are titles. The old feudal titles were officially abolished after the 1932 revolution. Since then there has been no formal aristocracy defined by title and name. But some bits of the old system have lingered, and others have been rescued or reinvented, so that titles and names still serve as a claim that some people are different, special, superior.
Curiously, while all the male titles of aristocracy were abolished, the female titles of Khunying and Thanphuying were allowed to remain. Each year, a few women are granted these titles. In some cases, the grant seems to be recognition not of the woman’s achievement, but of her husband’s. And some of these seem to be almost automatic. For instance, the prime minister’s wife is usually elevated (as long as he can stay in office long enough), and also the wives of the top handful in the military hierarchy. In a parliamentary democracy, the honour granted to the prime minister makes some sense. But why the military chiefs? And why more of them? Why are they chosen and not the wives of the top writers, top scientists, top sportsmen, top entertainers? This automatic elevation seems to say that the military chiefs still amount to an aristocracy.
Another set of titles that has survived into the democratic age are those of Mom Chao, Mom Ratchawong, and Mom Luang which denote distance from the royal line. Thailand may be the only country in the world where such a system remains in use. In other monarchies, immediate relatives of royal families are still granted titles as prince or princess. In the UK, some more remote relatives are identified as dukes and duchesses. But is there any other country where three generations removed from the royal line still identify themselves on a daily basis by a prefix to their name?
Another set of titles in everyday use are those of military and police ranks. This is true in most societies. But Thailand has one curiosity. People who have acquired an officer rank but then left the services continue to hold the rank for the rest of their life, and it is obligatory for the rank to be used in any public mention. Thus the Thai press still religiously refers to “Police Lieutenant Colonel Thaksin Shinawatra” even though he resigned from the police twenty-two years ago. There is even a controversy over whether his rank should be withdrawn, even though it is not a distinguished rank. This practice amounts to a claim that a police or military rank is something rather special.
One form of titling that has expanded enormously over the past generation is that associated with learning and education. Of course the usage of “Dr” by medical practitioners and holders of tertiary degrees is universal. But Thailand has developed another level of public academic titling which is again rather unique. “Acharn” was once a title or form of address bestowed especially on learned monks, but also on teachers of other kinds, particularly in the realm of the arts. While that usage remains, it is now overshadowed by the use of the title to identify anyone with an academic post in institutions of tertiary education. This titling subsystem is not as powerful as the royal and military ones because there is no standard written form, and no obligation to use the title whenever the holder is mentioned in writing, such as in the press. The usage of “acharn” is still principally oral.
The fact that there are forms of address which position people as superior and inferior, and titling systems which allow some people to claim they are special, says a lot about the society. Naming and addressing practices which elevate some people also debase others. Societies which truly believe in the fundamental inequality of humanity and which value human dignity try to minimise this sort of thing. Seventy years ago, there was an attempt to reform the Thai language by abolishing many of the practices which seemed inappropriate for the modern democratic era. Perhaps that reform was too dogmatic. Certainly it was resisted. Only a few of its innovations now survive.
Some people are beginning to understand the popular demand for a better economic deal. There is also a demand for more respect. That often comes in small everyday forms like the way people are named and addressed.