We’ve lost our ray of sunshine

Even the weather suddenly improved when Thailand marked the 60th anniversary of its great King’s accession to the throne By Andrew Biggs

My life has been split evenly between two well-known and long-reigning monarchs; the first half under Queen Elizabeth II of the United Kingdom, the second under King Bhumibol Adulyadej of Thailand.

These monarchs were of similar age and possessed similar traits such as endurance, influence, official protocol and great respect. In other ways, however, they were vastly different.

This struck home in my first year here in Thailand. By the time I had arrived, I was used to a monarch engulfed in the pomp and circumstance of British royalty. Queen Elizabeth has been the archetypal British monarch, embodying everything that is regal and grand. Australia, perhaps strangely, is still a member of the Commonwealth and Queen Elizabeth did visit Australia every few years

— 16 times in the last 60 years. Those visits, and her life in general, have been intensely regal affairs, reflecting her opulent lifestyle in Buckingham Palace. There is nothing wrong with that; that is what is expected of a monarch.

Thus when I arrived in Thailand I was a little surprised to come face to face with a monarch who managed to possess all that regality yet at the same time act in a most down-to-earth manner.

A quarter of a century ago, the royal palace was certainly as full of tradition and protocol as the British establishment, but King Bhu

mibol himself was a monarch on a mission.

At that time Queen Elizabeth could generally be found in Buckingham Palace; Thailand’s King could be found in any of 76 provinces.

Here in Thailand we have the nightly royal news, on every TV channel a little after 8pm. Back when I first arrived in Thailand, this news report regularly showed a man sitting in frail canoes, crossing rickety footbridges and wandering the mountains of the North and the plains of the Northeast in the farthest-flung regions of this country, dressed in plain garb with a camera slung around his neck, clutching maps and walkie-talkies.

This was the golden era of the royal development projects, instigated by the King himself. Invariably they were about raising the quality of life of Thailand’s rural population in an effort to break the cycle of poverty and make them self-reliant. There were more than 3,000 of these projects from 1982 to 2002, which is a staggering figure for a King to instigate and for his staff to follow through on. The big royal project that was on every night when I first arrived had far- reaching effects. Back then the Golden Triangle was an infamous region shared by Thailand, Myanmar and Laos. It was the crossroads for drug trafficking, most notably heroin. The rolling hills of the North were home to opium crops planted by farmers and purchased by local drug lords and turned into heroin. It was lucrative for everybody, but the consequences — drug addiction and prostitution — were devastating Thailand, especially in the Aids- riddled era of the late 1980s. This royal project — which ended up as the Mae Fah Luang project under the King’s mother, affectionately known as Somdej Ya — wanted to develop other crops less dependent on the drug trade than opium. These included strawberries, macadamia nuts, coffee and tea. This required a massive injection of support and funds and a re-education of the farmers, and there was resistance, but it ultimately worked.

That was one of the more prominent projects. There were thousands more, and every night just after 8pm we saw the King trudging through mudflats, crossing mountains and chatting to remote rural communities as he attempted to understand the problems of his subjects. The most famous picture is that of the King in the sweaty Thai countryside, a single drop of perspiration falling off the tip of his nose. One can be cynical about such portraits but back in the day this is really what he was doing on a daily basis. That is how I came to respect the King of Thailand, for the simple reason he was the King of Chiang Rai, the King of Mukdahan, the King of Pattani, the King of Ranong … Here was a monarch who put cows in his palace. He was the first monarch to have an invention patented (an aerator for wastewater treatment, in 1993). He is the only

monarch to have original songs performed in a Broadway musical. He wrote books. He played sax with Benny Goodman. He met Elvis Presley. King Bhumibol was perceived as a deity on earth, though he was quick to dispel this. He was a man prone to error just like anybody else. As he famously said during his birthday address in 2005, it was wrong to think “the King can do no wrong”. There was one day, however, when I thought one could be forgiven for thinking he was a deity. In 2006 Thailand hosted a grand celebration for the King’s 60th anniversary of accession to the throne. Monarchs and royal family members from all over the globe attended. The celebrations culminated in a magnificent Royal Barge Procession down the Chao Phraya River, ending at the Grand Palace outside the Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall. The event was televised internationally in two languages. I was lucky enough to be selected to be the commentator for the English-language version. This required me to be seated only a few metres from the visiting dignitaries, including His Majesty the King, as they arrived and entered the hall.

The day before was rehearsal day, and the weather was atrocious. Driving rain, squalls and high-speed winds characterised the day. Nevertheless, we pressed on, though it was decided not to bring out the big boats for fear of them being damaged. The morning of the event was just as bad. By the time I arrived for the event in the afternoon, the weather was gloomy and drizzly. But the show must go on, and the procession began. The clouds dispersed immediately. The winds died down an d, as th e first barg e approached the Grand Palace, a single ray of

sunlight split the clouds and lit up the ship in broad daylight. Gold sparkled in the sunlight. The weather changed on a dime. It was one of the most astonishing things I’d ever seen, although the Thais around me weren’t so surprised. “It was for our King,” they all said.

At the top of this column I mentioned I have split my life between two monarchs. That is one more than the Thais have experienced. Their lives have been lived under a single monarch who devoted himself to enhancing their way of life. It is terribly sad to witness the grief going through the hearts of his 68 million followers. My greatest hope in this period of mourning is that Thailand gets through its grief and moves on. Thais must feel gratitude for having a collective love and devotion that is difficult to find in these modern times outside enforced dictatorships. And how fortunate that I witnessed, and was part of, this devotion. King Bhumibol and Queen Sirikit did make it to Australia a long, long time ago. The royal couple didn’t do the usual Sydney- Melbourne hop then flee the countr y; they spent 18 days in Australia. The King was keen on learning about industr y, and the Queen was stunningly beautiful. They visited every capital city and were a big hit. Their final day in Australia culminated in a big send- off as they boarded a plane for Bangkok. And if I may allow myself the extravagance, how auspicious for me too — it was the same day I was born.

“Here was a monarch who put cows in his palace. He is the only monarch to have songs performed in a Broadway musical. He wrote books. He met Elvis Presley