A police proposal to expunge longstanding traffic tickets has turned into a major controversy that threatens to overthrow the government.  Some commentators have even gone as far as predicting a military coup.

The problem began when the Police Traffic Division noted that police stations around the country had shoe-boxes full of old traffic citations that had never been cleared, some dating back many years.  A survey revealed that these cases were unlikely ever to be settled, since in many cases the perpetrators had died, left the country, or somehow acquired new licences. 

The original plan seemed unexceptional.  Any minor infraction that would incur a fine of 400 baht or less and which had occurred 2 years or more ago would be cancelled.  The licences currently held by police pending payment of a fine would be mailed back to the owners, who would incur no criminal record. 

This amnesty had specific exceptions.  It would not apply to any violation that occurred within the vicinity of a royal site or involved a royal motorcade.  Nor would the exemption apply to anyone guilty of ordering traffic violations, such as tour bus owners setting schedules that necessitated speeding, or prestigious schools who organized double parking to set down or pick up students.

However, when the idea was sent to a committee to draft the regulations for this amnesty, something strange happened.  With the exception of royally-related offences, the proposal turned into a blanket amnesty covering all traffic crimes and all perpetrators.  Furthermore, the scheme would cover all back-dated infractions, right up to the date when the regulation was to be put into effect.

It is suspected that this change was made in order to wipe clean multiple traffic violations committed by police officers themselves, ranging from riding motorcycles on public footpaths without a helmet while going the wrong way, to emitting black exhaust fumes from official vehicles that have clearly not been properly maintained and should have been junked years ago.  Payment of the accumulated fines in these cases would have severely dented the budget of many police stations.

But the regulations would also have exculpated such notorious cases such as Vorayuth Yoovidhya, whose Ferrari slammed into a police motorcycle at over 100 kph, killing the police officer and dragging his body for a city block.  And that of Kanpitak Pachimsawat, who deliberately drove his Mercedes into a bus queue, killing one and seriously injuring two others, and who then refused to move when one victim was trapped underneath.  Or Orachorn Thephasadin Na Ayudhya, who crashed someone else’s Civic into a minibus on the Don Mueang tollway while driving under age and without a licence, killing nine.  Or Peerapol Thaksinthaweesap, whose speeding Porsche Cayman hit a pedestrian so hard that her body was ripped in two.

(Incidentally, the amnesty would also cover the victim in this last case, who police accused of looking the wrong way before crossing the road because she was Lao and accustomed to traffic driving on the right.)

Coming in the wake of a police ‘get tough’ policy on illegal parking on city streets, which saw illegal parked cars instantly removed by a fleet of dozens of tow-trucks, this decision aroused widespread public outrage.

For some reason, the crowds that gathered at busy intersections to block traffic and deafen bystanders by blowing whistles in protest at the blanket amnesty focussed their attention on the question of illegal parking, and seemed to overlook vehicular homicide through the use of high-powered vehicles by children of the rich and well-connected.

Opinions appearing on the social media (and these were very much social media crowds) bemoaned the culture of impunity that would become entrenched if illegal parking was to go unpunished.  It was claimed that law and order in Thailand would break down completely if cars were allowed to block streets willy-nilly, leading to disunity, national degeneration and republicanism.

Leaders of the Democrat Party quickly took over the indignant protests with Abhisit Vejjajiva, Suthep Thaugsuban and Korn Chatikavanij magnanimously offering to exclude themselves from any amnesty and declaring their readiness to pay any outstanding traffic fines.  Or at least have their drivers pay them.

The Royal Thai Police, taken aback by the depth of feeling on the issue, quickly withdrew the proposed amnesty in its entirety and pleaded with the crowds to stop blocking traffic and go home.  These entreaties, however, fell on deaf ears, and protestors vowed to stay on the streets until the government resigned, since it was well-known that this, like everything else that they didn’t like, was all the fault of Thaksin Shinawatra.

Commentators also pointed to the forthcoming judgment by the International Court of Justice on the Preah Vihear case.  If the mobs are still blowing whistles on the streets when a negative verdict is announced, it is feared that a military coup may be seen as the only way of restoring the rule of law and respect for the constitution.

About author:  Bangkokians with long memories may remember his irreverent column in The Nation in the 1980's. During his period of enforced silence since then, he was variously reported as participating in a 999-day meditation retreat in a hill-top monastery in Mae Hong Son (he gave up after 998 days), as the Special Rapporteur for Satire of the UN High Commission for Human Rights, and as understudy for the male lead in the long-running ‘Pussies -not the Musical' at the Neasden International Palladium (formerly Park Lane Empire).