Twilight of the king

TO THE casual observer the country is calm and orderly. And reverential: adorning a sweet-seller’s stall in a buzzing market in Bangkok, Thailand’s capital, are a dozen laminated pictures of the 88-year-old King Bhumibol Adulyadej who, on the throne since 1946, is the world’s longest-reigning monarch, indeed the only king most Thais have ever known. During his reign Thailand has become one of the richest big countries in South-East Asia, a manufacturing hub and a magnet for tourists. Bhumibol’s picture is everywhere, including in millions of homes. As for the ailing king himself, who lies in a hospital just opposite the sweet-seller’s stall—he has not been seen for months. The palace rarely breaks its silence. But in June and again this month doctors said they had drained fluid from his brain.

Whether it comes in weeks or years, the king’s passing will be more than a milestone. His death may set loose centrifugal forces that a coup in 2014 sought to contain, but seems destined in the long run only to aggravate. Below the surface, Thailand is deeply fractured. And so the army-enforced calm accompanying the king’s twilight is fragile. Not least of the problems is that his successor, the crown prince, Maha Vajiralongkorn, is deeply unpopular. After Bhumibol’s death the country, a crucial ally of America’s in South-East Asia, risks descending further into civil strife and economic dislocation, as an elite around the palace resists popular calls for a greater say in politics and a more equitable sharing of wealth. At that point, all bets about Thailand’s stability and prosperity may be off.