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<h2>Lunch with the FT: Abhisit Vejjajiva</h2>
<p>By Gideon Rachman </p>
<p>Published: February 13 2009 22:30 | Last updated: February 14 2009 02:06</p></div>
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<p><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 0px 9px" height="331" alt="" width="220" align="right">Thailand never used to have an image problem. Put to one side the occasional negative story about sex tourism and heroin-trafficking and the country has been successfully marketed as the idealised Oriental paradise: exotic, beautiful, warm, welcoming and unthreatening.</p>
<p>But lately things have gone wrong. In November, political protesters occupied and closed Bangkok airport, turning Thailand from the "land of smiles" of tourist brochures into a vale of tears for stranded holidaymakers. International human rights groups are criticising the country for its treatment of refugees and for its use of lèse-majesté laws to harass and imprison critics of the Thai monarchy. And now, to top it all, there is an economic crisis.</p>
<p>And so it was that, last month, Abhisit Vejjajiva, 44, the country's brilliant and boyish new leader, arrived at the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, to do some emergency marketing for his country.</p>
<p>Abhisit became prime minister in December. Since he is young, good-looking and well-educated, he has inevitably been called "Thailand's Barack Obama". But unlike the US president, Abhisit has not emerged from virtually nowhere.</p>
<p>I lived in Thailand from 1992-1995, when Abhisit, then a newly elected Bangkok MP, was already in the high-profile post of Democrat party spokesman and was being talked of as a future national leader.</p>
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<p><span>ESTABLISHMENT ORDER:</span></p>
<p><span>From playing fields to parliament</span></p>
<p>Abhisit Vejjajiva is the first Thai prime minister to have been educated at Eton, the English private school founded in 1440 by Henry VI, but he is not the first notable Thai to have been there, <span>writes Greg Lass.</span></p>
<p>King Prajadhipok, who ruled as Rama VII from 1925 until his abdication in 1935, was an Old Etonian (OE). Prajadhipok was also the last absolute monarch of Thailand, which became a democracy in 1932.</p>
<p>Other members of the Thai royal family educated at Eton include HRH Prince Birabongse, known as Prince Bira, who was a racing driver in Britain in the 1930s and 1940s.</p>
<p>Abhisit appears on the "Famous OE" pages of the Eton website in the company of a long list of the school's 18 British prime ministers and one who served in Northern Ireland.</p>
<p>The first OE to become leader of the British government, though the term PM was not in use at the time, was Sir Robert Walpole (1676-1745). </p>
<p>It also educated William Ewart Gladstone (1809-1898), who held a seat in the House of Commons for more than 60 years and was PM four times.</p>
<p>In the mid-20th century there was a run of three consecutive Old Etonian prime ministers. First was Anthony Eden (1955 to 1957), who resigned over the Suez crisis, and then Harold Macmillan. </p>
<p>"Super Mac" went on to win the 1959 election with the enduring slogan, "You've never had it so good."</p>
<p>Macmillan resigned in 1963 (though he lived for another 23 years, dying aged 92 in 1986), he was succeeded by Sir Alec Douglas-Home (1903-1995). After just a year as PM, he lost the 1964 election to the Labour party's grammar-school educated leader Harold Wilson. He remains also the only prime minister to have played first-class cricket.</p>
<p>Current Etonian politicians include Abhisit's schoolfriend Boris Johnson, the former Conservative MP and current mayor of London, and their near-contemporary David Cameron, 42, who is leader of the Conservative party.</p>
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<p>In fact, Abhisit's <i>cv</i> makes him sound more like a potential prime minister of Britain than of Thailand. He was born in 1964 in Newcastle-upon-Tyne in northern England and sighs that "this has condemned me to supporting Newcastle United", a chronically unsuccessful football team. He comes from a prominent family of Thai-Chinese origin and his father, who later became a health minister in Thailand, studied medicine at Guy's Hospital in London. Abhisit was sent to Eton College, Britain's poshest school and a traditional breeding ground for prime ministers.</p>
<p>Abhisit then went on to Oxford University, where he got a first-class degree in politics, philosophy and economics, before going on to do a masters in economics. He returned to Thailand and lectured in economics at an elite Thai university before going into politics full-time. He became Democrat party leader in 2005.</p>
<p>It would have been nice to share a dish of phad Thai with Abhisit in the local Thai restaurant in Davos, which was celebrating his presence at the forum by draping itself in the red, white and blue flag of Thailand and putting out a large banner, proclaiming, "Welcome to our prime minister."</p>
<p>But prime ministers work on tight schedules and so it is our fate to share a snack in an antiseptic basement room in the resort's Congress Centre. The forum's harassed media staff have done their best to jolly up the place. They have provided us with two cream-coloured leather chairs, a potted plant and a coffee table, with some snacks on it.</p>
<p>Abhisit, immaculately dressed in a grey suit and waistcoat, with a pale blue shirt and black tie with white stripes, looks slightly doubtful at the array of lurid pastries and curled sandwiches placed before him. I explain that our conversation is meant to take place against a background of eating and drinking. "OK. I will comply," he says. But he makes no movement towards the food.</p>
<p>Married with two children, Abhisit is regarded as a "housewife's favourite" in Thailand. Slight and fine-featured with large eyes, he looks a bit like the lead singer in a boy band. And, indeed, when his mobile phone goes off, the ringtone is an expansive guitar chord. It sounds a bit like U2 but the prime minister puts me right. "Prince," he says firmly.</p>
<p>Thai politics can seem farcical and sinister, by turns. On the farcical side, one of Abhisit's recent predecessors as prime minister, Samak Sundaravej, was forced to resign after accepting payments for guest appearances on a TV cookery show. On the sinister side, Abhisit's biggest political rival, Thaksin Shinawatra, a telecoms mogul who became prime minister, stands accused by human rights groups of licensing widespread extra-judicial killing as part of a "war on drugs" in 2003. (Having been ousted in a 2006 coup, Thaksin again came to prominence when he bought Manchester City football club in 2007 and sold it a year later). </p>
<p>Abhisit has long campaigned for cleaner and more lawful politics in Thailand. In the late 1990s, he oversaw the government's counter-corruption commission. But he has come to power in difficult and ambiguous circumstances. A group called the People's Alliance for Democracy (Pad) accuses the previous government of being controlled by proxies for Thaksin, and it was Pad supporters who unleashed chaos in November by occupying Bangkok airport and government offices.</p>
<p>Abhisit condemned the demonstrators but they effectively paralysed the government and created the conditions for Abhisit to be voted in as prime minister by parliament. Critics also pointed to the role of the Thai military in manipulating events to ease Abhisit's way to the top. The whole episode tarnished his democratic credentials.</p>
<p>Thailand is also attracting international condemnation for its treatment of Rohingya refugees, a Muslim minority group from neighbouring Burma, hundreds of whom make the dangerous journey to Thailand in rickety boats. The Thai military has been accused of forcing them back to sea, without engines or adequate supplies, possibly causing hundreds of deaths. Although many of the incidents took place before Abhisit came to power, the most recent group was picked up at sea last month. Abhisit has promised a full investigation, but the publicity has been damaging. Sitting in my briefcase is an editorial from that day's Economist magazine, accusing Thailand of "astoundingly callous" behaviour.</p>
<p>To top it all, Abhisit has come to power during a big economic crisis. Since we are meeting at the World Economic Forum, I start with that. The prime minister makes no attempt to play down the gravity of the situation. "The last few financial crises the world has faced we've seen in particular regions, in particular countries, which means that you can tap into the resources of the other major economies to help smooth the crisis and get the world economy through. Now who do you look to?" </p>
<p>Thailand, he says, is facing a "twin crisis". The country has been "consumed with the political crisis that has been ongoing for two or three years. And now this economic crisis".</p>
<p>No stranger to economic turmoil, the country was one of the original Asian economic tigers, regularly notching up growth of 8 to 9 per cent a year in the 1980s and early 1990s. But in 1997, investors lost confidence, there was a run on the Thai currency and the country became the first victim of the Asian economic crisis.</p>
<p>Abhisit, who had done his Oxford thesis on IMF rescue programmes, now had to witness the IMF being called in to save the Thai economy. As part of the government that had to implement the rescue, he was not particularly impressed by the fund's performance. His thesis had argued that the fund tended to insist on interest rates that were too high and he feels his criticism was amply borne out. "We went through a lot of unnecessary pain," he says sorrowfully.</p>
<p>So now that there is a global financial crisis, can the world learn from what happened in Thailand? </p>
<p>"Sure. I think a few lessons are absolutely vital. The first is that you need to move fast and I know it's always politically difficult when you have to decide to use taxpayers' money. But if you do it slow, you won't get the job done, and you'll be asked to do it again. And as you go to the second and third and fourth rounds, it's even more politically difficult."</p>
<p>Speaking softly and urgently, the prime minister is warming to his theme. Despite his promise to eat a World Economic Forum pastry, he has still made no move towards the food. In an effort to encourage him, I take a bite of a cheese sandwich. Frowning with concentration, Abhisit moves on to his second point about the economy.</p>
<p>"So much focus will be on how to clean up the financial system and it's no use cleaning up everything only to find that the real economy has gone down. And another lesson is that even if you clean up the banks they won't necessarily resume lending. So you need additional mechanisms and measures to make sure that there is liquidity for what are, essentially, good businesses. But if you cut off liquidity, almost all good businesses become bad ones."</p>
<p>All this talk of liquidity prompts me to pour myself a coffee. I gesture weakly towards the silver-plated Thermos flask but Abhisit is not to be deflected.</p>
<p>"[It's] very important not to lose sight of the developing world. All developing economies are now being affected. And I know the major economies have to look after their own economies first. But if they forget about doing things for the developing world, you're likely to see political and social tensions rising. That's very dangerous."</p>
<p>He is talking fast and seems strangely indifferent to the apricot Danish that I have nudged in his direction. I ask him about the urban-rural divide in Thailand and about his great rival, Thaksin, who is a favourite of the rural majority, although hated by much of the urban elite who form the core of Democrat Party support. "You must have known him for many, many years?" I muse. "Is there anything good to say about him?"</p>
<p>Abhisit's eyes do not exactly stand out on stalks but he looks incredulous and slightly amused. It occurs to me that it is a long time since I have lived in Thailand. Perhaps this is a very silly question – a bit like asking George W Bush to list some of Saddam Hussein's better qualities.</p>
<p>Still, the question has the effect of temporarily disturbing Abhisit's composure. For the first time, he glances down at the food. "Let me have some coffee," he says. He takes a sip, before gamely attempting an answer. "Well, he has a modern outlook, so he gives a sense that he is modern, and with him being in the communications and the IT business gives that feel. And he moves quickly ... But I've always said that despite that modern outlook he certainly doesn't appreciate the true values of these times, which is all about human rights, participation, true democracy, transparency and good governance."</p>
<p>I change the subject to a politician who is more congenial, his old school friend from Eton, Boris Johnson, who is now mayor of London. Johnson stayed with Abhisit in Thailand, in their year off between school and university, and the two have remained close. I ask whether they had both always harboured political ambitions. Abhisit says: "I had expected Boris to go into politics but he's a character so it was never going to be a smooth ride for him. But all credit to him that he's used his character and is sticking to being his true self and getting to where he is today." Johnson has boasted that he is the only British politician who knows how to spell "Vejjajiva". At Eton, the future prime minister was frequently referred to as "Veggie" for short.</p>
<p>Whatever the difficulties of running London, it seems fair to say that Abhisit's political challenges are considerably more daunting than those facing his old school pal. As we speak, the PM's aides are monitoring the progress of anti-government demonstrations in Bangkok.</p>
<p>Abhisit must somehow find a way to remain true to his beliefs in democracy and the rule of law, without antagonising the powerful forces that stand behind him or plunging Thailand into a new political crisis. When pressed on military power in Thailand, he treads carefully.</p>
<p>And when I ask about the treatment of refugees, a hint of steel comes into his voice for the first time. "Let's get that straight – they're not refugees, they're just illegal migrants." He insists, however, that human rights abuses cannot be tolerated, adding: "The army chief has said that if any of the officers are involved in these things, they should be punished. I think that's quite a significant change." When I ask whether he thinks Thailand still has work to do, in reducing the power of the military in politics, he replies quietly. "Yes, I do. And every time my party [the Democrats] have been in power, we've tried to do that."</p>
<p>He is also firm in his defence of Thailand's right to prosecute critics of the monarchy, comparing the lèse-majesté laws to contempt of court laws in Britain, which are designed to protect an institution that is "politically neutral and supposed to be above conflict". But there is also a note of qualification. Abhisit says: "I recognise sometimes the law is abused. And there may also be pressure for the law to be liberally interpreted. I will try to find ways of fixing that." He says that he has already spoken to the relevant authorities about his concerns. It is not clear, however, that the "relevant authorities" will listen to the new prime minister, posing an early test to his authority.</p>
<p>Our lunch is coming to a close and I have failed in part of my mission. Abhisit has not touched his sandwiches. But his aides are keen to hurry him on. There are further interviews to do, world leaders to meet and that night he will fly back to Bangkok – and into the maelstrom of Thai politics.</p>
<p><i>Gideon Rachman is the FT's chief foreign affairs columnist</i></p>
<p>.......................................</p></div></div><br clear="all"><span class="sg"><br>-- <br>Ben Wilkinson<br>Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam<br>+84 0903710492<br></span>