The world is sleepwalking through Thailand’s growing denial of fundamental human rights, like freedom of expression. The country’s rights violations are aimed at shielding its centuries-old monarchy from domestic criticism–and they are trampling a vibrant pro-democracy movement. A wake-up moment will occur soon this month when the United Nations General Assembly decides whether to elect the country to a three-year seat on the Human Rights Council, despite Thailand’s cascading decline in human rights protections and democratic freedoms.
In Thailand, democracy is being decapitated with the delegitimization of major political parties. The government aggressively cracks down on the press. Freedom House this year ranks Thailand as barely “Partly Free” on political rights and civil liberties and “Not Free” on internet freedom.
A particular source of concern is Thailand’s long-standing law (lèse-majesté) that makes it a criminal offense to “defame, insult or threaten members of the royal family.” Compliant courts enforce prison sentences of three to fifteen years under the law. Between mid-2020 and mid-2024, a total of 272 individuals, including a 14-year-old girl, were charged in 303 cases under the law. On the broader scale of rights deprivation, a total of 1,956 people were politically prosecuted in 1,302 cases.
Several months ago I joined with the Clooney Foundation for Justice to report on a courageous Thai woman, Netiporn “Bung” Sanaesangkhom, who died in detention following her 65-day hunger strike protesting the lèse-majesté law and the six criminal cases against her. Her “crime” for which she was in jail? Organizing a peaceful and informal poll in February 2022 that sought the public’s views on whether motorcades carrying members of the royal family were an inconvenience to the public.
Thailand’s Lèse-majesté Law
The world has acknowledged the regressive character and enforcement of Thailand’s lèse-majesté law, which has unique standing for its brutality among the club of monarchies. Anyone can file a charge against anyone for violation of the lèse-majesté law. Several years ago, the Human Rights Council examined civil, political, and other human rights in Thailand during its Universal Periodic Review of the country. Seventeen nations requested that Thailand review or reform its lèse-majesté law. Instead of heeding these appeals, Thailand has been doubling down in defiance of the Human Rights Council, on which the United States still sits.
The courts in cases brought using the lèse-majesté law have repeatedly rejected defendants’ efforts either to explain that their speeches were criticisms of the institution of the monarchy, not the person of the monarch, which should be a defense to liability. Alternately, defendants have argued that they should be allowed to prove the truth of statements they might make about the King himself, which, again, should shield defendants from being found guilty under the law, as it does not purport, on its face, to criminalize true statements. Instead, the courts twist themselves into knots to convict defendants—or at least keep the threat of conviction alive so that defendants have to worry about going back to jail if they speak out.
Pro-monarchy activists have also taken to filing cases across the country, on the theory that online speech can be seen anywhere in the country, making it even more difficult for protesters to defend themselves in areas lacking adequate legal representation.
How Thailand Should Move Forward
The ball is on Thailand’s field. Unfortunately, Thailand’s Constitutional Court recently dissolved the Move Forward Party which was making such significant strides to strengthen democratic governance of the country. The country’s ruling elite, who thrive under the protection afforded to their interests by the lèse-majesté law, should signal new respect for the human rights of their own people.
The first and best option would be repeal of the lèse-majesté law, which the UN has repeatedly found to be inconsistent with international standards. Thailand is party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which codifies such international standards as freedom of expression, the right of peaceful assembly, and the right to freedom of association. The Covenant also codifies due process rights for those charged with crimes. Repeal of the lèse-majesté law, however, currently appears unlikely.
In the meantime, as a second best option, the government should back an amnesty bill currently stalled in the Thai Parliament that is aimed at delivering amnesty to political prisoners, including alleged offenders of the lèse-majesté law.
Third, the authorities also could aim to loosen enforcement of the lèse-majesté law to levels at least comparable to the period of 2018 to 2020. This could include dismissing the charges against a large number of those currently charged and, in many of those cases, detained under the lèse-majesté law.
Fourth, Thailand also could separate criminal defamation of the King—the ostensible rationale of the lèse-majesté law—from (what should be) lawful commentary about the place of the monarchy in the Constitution and how public policy should be crafted.
Fifth, the government could take up recommendations made by the United States and Austria for minor reform of the lèse-majesté law to the effect of eliminating a mandatory minimum sentence under the law and ensuring children do not face charges.
Finally, Thai authorities could de-couple enforcement of the country’s overbroad Computer Crime Act from lèse-majesté infractions online.
This is the moment for a strong signal to be sent by Thailand as it stands for election to the United Nations body charged with protecting human rights.