THE POLITICS OF POLICE ABDUCTION

The time may be coming when those responsible for law enforcement may
themselves be held to the standard of the law

"There is nothing under the sun that the Thai police cannot do." Open the
website of the Thai police and you will find this saying of Phao Sriyanon
proudly displayed (www.police.go.th/pao.htm). He is considered one of the
founding fathers of the modern police department, and is celebrated in its
internal history.

He is also widely believed to have ordered the abduction and murder of
several prominent figures during the late 1940s and 1950s, including MPs,
Muslim political leaders, journalists and businessmen. His famous saying
has a terrible ring. Thaksin quoted it in his speech launching the "war on
drugs" on 14 January last year.

Over the past few months, we have heard stories of arbitrary arrests,
torture, beatings, abduction and extrajudicial killing - all allegedly
committed by the police. Such things are not new. They stretch back to the
era of Phao and beyond.

Last year, the resolution of the Sherry Ann Duncan murder case showed how,
thirteen years ago, the police had rigged evidence to convict four innocent
people.

Police work is very difficult, and often very dangerous. Violence is part
of the job. But police work in modern states is supposedly based on one
fundamental ideal: The police have a monopoly on the legitimate use of
violence, but they have to use that violence within strict rules.

Over the past decade, things seemed to have got better. The police have
become more conscious of their public image.

The drafters of the 1997 constitution attempted to strengthen people's
judicial rights to prevent the worst abuses. Senior police officers
regularly argue any mistakes were the work of "a few rotten apples".

But under this government, there seems to have been a regression. Even
before the government launched its "war on drugs", The Nation reported on a
police officer in the Northeast who had already begun his own war: "Our
target is to send 1,000 traffickers to hell this year, to join some 350
before |them . . . We have applied legal means, political science and even
Buddhism, but the [drug] problem seems to be getting worse. Now it's time
to rely on the Angel of Death. Of course, it's a legally delicate means,
but it's the path we have to take to bring peace back to society. . . This
year we expect at least 1,000 traffickers to travel to hell."

The beatings and torture that the lawyer Somchai Neelapaijit claimed the
police had inflicted on his five clients were horrific - on a par with the
behaviour of medieval tyrants or armies during wartime. The press seems so
shocked it now refers to the beatings alone, and quietly omitting the torture.

The police hierarchy is trying to confess that Somchai may have been
abducted for making these charges, while at the same time denying that the
torture took place.

Of course, these allegations may not be true. But we find it easy to
believe them simply because they fit a pattern.

Last year, detainees died in police custody in Surat Thani. The National
Human Rights Commission made an enquiry and concluded they had effectively
been beaten to death.

In Kanchanaburi, another detainee died and a police officer was
investigated for possibly beating him to death.

The emergence of Dr Pornthip Rojanasunan over the last few years as a
public figure is an eloquent reflection of the police. Why, she wonders
aloud to us, do I keep being called to inspect dead bodies lying face down
in the middle of rice fields? Why do the killings seem to stop if I
complain enough to the authorities, but start again if I ease up?

People get chosen as public figures because they symbolise a popular wish,
hate or fear. Whereas most of us feel fearful and defensive in the face of
the abuse of police power, Dr Pornthip has special scientific knowledge, a
unique personality and a natural ability to communicate.

Her public role is part teacher, part avenging angel, part rock star. It's
not her spiky hair and punk gear that makes her a public figure. Rather
it's the stories of abduction, torture and unexplained killings. How many
other countries have made a forensic scientist into a national hero or heroine?

The US "Report on Human Rights Practices" which so upset Thaksin recently
emphasised the dangers of allowing police malpractice to go unchecked and
unpunished.

On the unexplained killings in the anti-drug war, it stated: "The
government failed to investigate and prosecute vigorously those who
committed such abuses, contributing to a climate of impunity."

On killings and abductions in the South, it said: "The government failed to
investigate and prosecute vigorously those who committed such abuses,
contributing to a climate of impunity."

On police practice in general, it warned: "There were reports that police
tortured, beat and otherwise abused detainees and prisoners, generally with
impunity."

In response to a scandal during his first year in office, Thaksin vowed he
would clean up the police. Then, after Chuwit Kamolvisit went public about
his large-scale bribery of the police, Thaksin said: "I need four-five
years to put the police back in line.

One can't tighten all the nuts at the same time with just one spanner."
(All the officers fingered by Chuwit seem to have got off.) After Dr
Pornthip showed how police had concealed evidence in the Hangthong
Thammawattana murder case, Thaksin blamed the mess on "inefficiency,
pressure from superiors and bribes", and again vowed to clean up the police
force.

Phao's famous saying on the Thai police has a second line that is not often
referred to: "In ways that do not conflict with morality, custom, fine
traditions and the law of the land."

We may be approaching the defining moment of Thaksin's premiership.

Chang Noi