8.3.1 Understanding Barami

A belief in karma (in Pali, kamma) – moral laws of cause and effect – forms the basis of Thai Buddhism. Simply put, a person reaps what he or she sows. Good deeds result in merit (bunna), while evil deeds generate their own negative results (Ishii Reference Ishii1986, 14–16; Jackson Reference Jackson1989, 40–41). Merit that is acquired through good deeds in this life insures a better situation in the next life. The system is not supposed to be deterministic, however, people commonly believe that they are born in their current condition because of the amount of merit and demerit accumulated in past lives. Buddhism encourages a person to constantly improve one’s fortune by making new merit and avoiding committing further evil. Ultimately, a person with high merit will obtain true understanding of the Buddha’s teaching and gain release from the cycle of rebirths by attaining nirvana, at which point all of one’s sufferings will come to an end.

For most people nirvana is a distant prospect. Monks might be interested in this spiritual goal, but ordinary folks are generally not ready to follow such practices of renouncing the mundane world. Their goals tend to be more practical and materialistic, such as improving their worldly situation. A person of high merit is said to enjoy wealth, wisdom, or good family fortune, for example (Terwiel 2012, Chapter 9), whereas demerit produces undesirable consequences, including poverty, ailment, or demotion at work.

Thai Buddhists believe that some forms of good karma produce not ordinary bunna, but a quality known as barami. The relationship between the two, bunna and barami, is not always clear but barami is used principally in a political sense. Although there is no perfect translation, barami is understood as perfection or virtues (Jory Reference Jory2016, 15–18). It can be used as ‘power,’ and a person with a high level of barami is fit to rule.

Examples of barami appear in stories about the Buddha’s various rebirths, which treat him as a personification of dhamma (Nidhi 2012, 329–330). The stories often emphasize that, to become a buddha, a person must accumulate the ultimate level of barami, which could only be achieved through countless rebirths. It is a journey spanning eons and involving rebirth as various life forms, for example, an elephant, a quail, a deer, or a prince. In each life, the buddha-to-be is described as undergoing adventures that demonstrate certain kinds of virtues. In Thai versions of these stories, many incarnations are similar to quests that the Buddha must overcome to gain more barami. Gradually, he perfects himself, therefore reaching the status of Buddha. These stories, known as jātaka, are weaved into a larger tapestry of time, connecting the previous buddhas with the coming Maitreya Buddha of the future (Nidhi Reference Eowsriwong2012, 331–340).

Accounts of jātaka are scattered throughout Buddhist texts, both in the canon (the Tipiṭaka) and outside of it (Baker & Pasuk 2019, xix–xxi). Jātakas often begin with a framing story explaining how a previous rebirth is linked to the present one: an incident, cause célèbre, or a dispute among monks. The story often ends with some moral guidance in which characters in the story are linked to particular people in the Buddha’s life, as previous incarnations, or the Buddha’s close associates or enemies.

Jātakas are a major source of Buddhism through which many Thais learn about religion. Particularly in premodern times, few people read the canon, which was written in Pali on a palm leaf. Sacred books were to be worshipped, in many cases, not studied. The canonical approach to Buddhist studies would not begin until the turn of the twentieth century, when King Chulalongkorn ordered his half-brother Sangha Raja to reform monastic education (Phibul Reference Choompolpaisal2015, Ishii Reference Ishii1986, 85–88). Jātakas by contrast were treated as entertainment because they entailed life and death and other drama and were easy to tell orally to illiterate locals through performance (Jory 2016; Baker & Pasuk 2019, xii). Later generations ‘borrowed’ the religious credibility of the stories and added their local lore into the jātaka genre, expanding the local jātaka universe (Baker & Pasuk 2019, xvii–xix).

In this worldview, the Buddha stands as the most meritorious, most perfect person of our time. But there are several other individuals endeavoring to reach such exalted status. They are known as bodhisattvas (Pali: bodhisatta), those on the path to becoming the future buddha (Jory Reference Jory2016, 17–19). Many Thai kings were identified as bodhisattva, associating their political power with moral superiority (Jory Reference Jory2016, 50–54; Skilling 2007; Sweaerer Reference Sweaerer2010, 105). In this way, the concept of barami came to explain the king’s authority over his subjects. As the most perfect man (next to the Buddha), he was portrayed as being morally entitled to the throne as well as empowered to wage wars against other less perfect monarchs. Some scholars have even described premodern Thai statecraft as a space of several smaller tributary kingdoms united by one man’s charisma (Tambiah Reference Tambiah1976, 102; Sunait 1990; Prapod Reference Assavavirulhakarn2010, 18–19).

According to some sources, the well-being of a Buddhist kingdom depended on the barami of this single person, which was not static, but in danger of being eroded. Barami could be depleted, requiring the king to practice dhamma. If the king behaved, the kingdom was supposed to prosper. Those rulers who ignored dhamma brought disasters, draughts, floods, or fires to their subjects. Folklore from northern Thai kingdoms tells a story of a kingdom that sank overnight as a punishment for the behavior of an evil king (Chai-anan & Sombat Reference Samudavanija1980, 46–51).

One of the most important works of literature on barami is Trai Phum Phra Ruang, the “Three Worlds of King Ruang.” Composed by King Lithai in the fourteenth century as a reading on Buddhism for his mother, Trai Phum Phra Ruang is also a great work of political literature (Reynolds Reference Reynolds1976; Cholthira Reference Klud-U1974). The text describes vividly a cosmology consisting of many worlds of deities, men, demons, and other creatures covering four continents, and their people and fauna. It tells the story of the creation of the universe at the start of the last eon, drawing from many other important Buddhist texts.Footnote ¹¹

The underlying message of the Trai Phum is clear: a sentient being’s fate is determined by its karma (Jackson Reference Jackson and Ling1993, 70–74). The book begins with a description of the lowest realm of hell, gradually working its way up through different realms of animals, ghosts, and demons. Lower realms are full of creatures of disgusting birth and lowly livelihood, feeding on mud and waste, and of ugly unsightly aspect. The later chapters deal with the realm of humans and gods of varying qualities. The lower heavens are full of worldly pleasures, while the higher realms enjoy more sublime ones. Within the present world, the three continents hold people of perfect appearance and longevity. They know no sadness. Their lands have food aplenty and no hardship will ever befall them. All this is because the residents of the three continents practice dhamma.Footnote ¹²

The Trai Phum describes the political system as dominated by kings who have accumulated barami over their past lives (Chontira 1974, 116). According to this view, they are entitled to their throne and prestige as well as loyalty from their subjects. Such kings speak in words that are always just and fair. They dispense with wealth without reservation and, as a result of their moral character, ensure that the kingdom’s wealth grows even wider. The kings are described as cakravartin (Pali: cakkavattin), ‘wheel turners’ who have the power to defeat all others and who guide their citizens and protect dhamma (Chai-anan & Sombat Reference Samudavanija1980, 61–67). Barami brings kings power and wisdom as well as a fair appearance, perfect for a ruler. Other members of society are born or assigned into their places, high and low, according to their karma too.

In the fifteenth century, the Kingdom of Ayutthaya implemented its own hierarchical scheme called the sakdina system, in order to regulate its workforce (Akin Reference Rabibadhana2017). All men and women, from a beggar to the viceroy, were assigned certain rankings, from 5 rai to 100,000 rai. All benefits and duties are conferred based on the ranking. The sakdina system created a social and political organization similar to the Trai Phum’s karma-based cosmology. On this sociopolitical pyramid, the king sits at the zenith as the most perfect man. Below him are courtiers, commoners, and other persons. As with the Trai Phum, men with higher barami were imagined to rule over those with lower barami.

These notions of barami came under immense pressure by the end of the nineteenth century. Newly arrived Christian missionaries challenged Buddhism, criticizing it as a mythical barbaric religion. Siamese aristocrats responded by redefining Buddhism (Thongchai Reference Winichakul2015; Jackson Reference Jackson and Ling1993, 43–47). They emphasized the ‘rational’ features of the Pali canon and tried to discredit elements such as miracles as later corruptions of an essentially logical religion. Trai Phum and jātakas were downgraded from the status of sacred texts to fables (Jory Reference Jackson2002).

These changes to Buddhism fit with the construction of the new Thai nation-state, which emphasized the Western concept of sovereignty. King Chulalongkorn was the first Thai king to claim this kind of sovereignty, which, unlike barami, was absolute, static, and, most importantly, inheritable by his son. Where ancient kingdoms were loosely constructed, consisting of greater and lesser kings along with dominant and tributary states, under the new political philosophy the king’s power was imagined to reach every corner of the new Thai “geo-body” without ever waning (Thongchai Reference Winichakul1994). Chulalongkorn relied less on barami and more on written legal codes.

One might assume that the era of barami-based Buddhist kingship was over in the nineteenth century. But is that the case? King Chulalongkorn was the first modern king, but he was also revered as a demi-god. The worshipping of Chulalongkorn suggests that the king was still viewed with high barami. Even those aristocrats who were pressured to undertake the reforms of modern Thai Buddhism might not have abandoned the barami concept entirely. For example, King Vajiravuth, Chulalongkorn’s son and successor, ordered a royal anthem called san-sern-phra-barami, which praises His Majesty’s barami. A Thai reference to a man of high power is still phu mi barami, meaning ‘one who has barami.’ When a man falls from his grace, some will say that he has depleted his barami, mod barami. Buddhism as a religious philosophy may have been rationalized and modernized, but Buddhism as a political ideology remained unchanged (Gray Reference Gray1986). Many Thais seem to adopt a rationalistic version of Buddhism for their personal life philosophy and guidance, while advocating for traditional barami-based sociopolitical hierarchy (Nidhi Reference Eowsriwong2012, 311–325). How could barami be preserved and popularized in the modern age?

8.3.2 Popularizing Barami

Seven hundred years are enough for belief in barami to seep into Thais’ deepest conscience. Few have heard of Trai Phum and fewer still read it. But for most Thais, men are not equal. As one Thai proverb goes, one can compete in a boat race, but one could not compete in bun (merit) and wasana (luck). The taboo of someone whose lifestyle is not compatible with his or her social status always draws criticism.

This kind of thinking is still prevalent among conservatives. As Thai politics turn more moralistic, conservative voices often chant the mantra that men are not equal. They justify the authoritarian regime by labelling ordinary people as stupid and not worthy of the right to self-governance (Apichat & Anusorn Reference Satitniramai and Unno2017, 97–116). Only good people can acquire an office of political power (Aim Reference Sinpeng and Chachavalpongpun2020, 151). Barami, I would argue, is still one of the most important sources of political authority in twenty-first-century Thailand.

Some might argue that, as evidenced by declining attendance at temples, along with a declining number of monks and temples (Channarong Reference Boonnoon2011), Thais are becoming less religious and therefore barami is not important. Yet, the majority of Thais learn about barami through contemporary and vernacular sources. For example, the story of Phra Malai is a popular narrative that also emphasizes the importance of karma (Igunma Reference Igunma2013). The story focuses on an arahant called Malai who visits heaven and hell. In hell, he documents the types of punishment related to a given action. A drinker is fed red-hot molten copper. An adulterer is forced to climb a Bombax tree with sharp iron thorns while being preyed on by crows. Those who insult an arahant would have mouths as narrow as a needle hole, and therefore, be forever hungry. Beliefs like these are deeply entangled in the Thai conscience, even among those who do not regularly attend temples. Most Thais could probably recite an evil deed and its matching punishment even without having read the tale of Phra Malai. Some monks and nuns even offer a service where disciples are told which type of bad behavior results in which type of mishap. By matching certain types of merit to a specific blessing, these monks and nuns recommend merit-making according to one’s goal. It is common to find a book or a TV show that discusses a participant’s past lives and the consequence of his or her karma.Footnote ¹³

Several jātakas were turned into plays, and later, literature of prose and verse, making them popular moral tales as much as Buddhist stories. Rathasenajātaka became Phra Rot-Meri, the story of Prince Rathasena’s adventure into the land of a monster queen, Meri, ending in romantic tragedy (Baker & Pasuk 2019, 57). Suthanajātaka was adapted into Suthana-Manohara, another adventure of Prince Suthana in pursuit of a mythical half-woman, half-bird princess, Manohara (Baker & Pasuk 2019, 1). Suvannasankhajātaka is retold as the story of Sank Tong, a prince who was born with a golden conch (Baker & Pasuk 2019, 27). Samuddaghosajātaka is Samuddhaghosa, another adventure of Prince Samuddhaghosa who was kidnapped by a playful god and introduced, for a night, to a princess (Baker & Pasuk 2019, 75). All these stories depict a protagonist of a noble class, with beautiful aspect and exceptional courage. They were given a difficult task but received aid from gods and goddesses who believed that a man of high merit deserved better treatment and should not suffer. These stories are still being made into dances, cartoons, and TV series to this day.

The best-known of the jātaka stories is that of the Buddha’s penultimate rebirth before his final incarnation, in which he is born as a king named Vessantara. The story of Prince Vessantara emphasizes the importance of generosity or giving, dāna. Vessantara inspires the exceedingly popular performance of Mahachat, “the Great Birth,” where monks recite the entire beautiful prose of Prince Vessantara’s adventure within a single day. The importance of this story and this celebration have been analyzed by Patrick Jory, who argues that it forms the foundation of Thailand’s theory of divine kingship (2016).

Even King Bhumibol was involved in popularizing jātaka stories, rewriting Mahajanakajātaka to teach the virtue of perseverance (Bhumibol Reference Adulyadej1996). The story tells of Prince Mahachanok, who had to swim in the ocean for seven days straight before the Goddess Mekhala rescued him. It became a big hit in Thailand, and a best-selling book. Later, it was simplified and illustrated by a famous cartoonist, Chai Ratchawat (1999). It was also adapted into an opera by Somtow Sucharitkul.Footnote ¹⁴ A new breed of mango was grown to honor the story in which the prince learned to resurrect a delicious mango tree which had been ravished by ignorant greedy men: the king named it “Mahajanaka mango.”

These stories of barami and bunna are included in the national educational curriculum. For most Thais, the primary contact point with Buddhism is in public education, of which the first twelve years are compulsory, and where Buddhism-inspired stories constitute a significant part of the reading list. These readings reflect Buddhist thinking about karma and its effects. It does not include Trai Phum, but it does include the tale of Phra Malai and the Vessantara Jātaka.

Moreover, notions of barami have been a big part of the modern idealizations of kingship in Thailand. King Bhumibol himself is said to be the living example of the perfect man filled with barami. In the last thirty years of his reign, Thailand witnessed the rise of hyper-royalism, an excessive worship of the monarch as the morally absolute ruler (Thongchai Reference Winichakul2016). Through this process, Bhumibol has been elevated from a hard-working developer of the nation into a semi-divine figure. Some prominent royalists, such as a public scholar, Kukrit Pramoj, told accounts of King Bhumibol’s barami, for example, that His Majesty seemed to be able to command animals and weather patterns. Other stories tell that when the king was presiding over a ceremony, his presence stopped the drizzling rain or, in the case of a hot sunny day, brought light showers, equivalent to spraying holy water. Bhumibol was revered for possessing an innate spiritual power. These accounts are openly published in newspapers (Siamrath Reference Siamrath2016).

During the peak of the Cold War, when Thailand was struggling against a communist insurgency, the king’s barami became the basis to produce a powerful amulet, “Phra Somdej Chitrlada,” named after the king’s palace. The amulet needed no further ceremony of sacralization because the presence of the king was deemed sufficient to ensure it. It was distributed to security personnel, soldiers, border-patrol police, local militias, and other government employees who were fighting against communism (Art & Culture Magazine 2021; Kom Chad Luek Reference Luek2012). Many military personnel confirmed that the sacred amulet saved their lives. Several senior monks confirmed that Bhumibol had great interest and knowledge in dhamma and had even attained various levels of enlightenment – implying that he was one genuine bodhisattva (MGR Online 2016). At his funeral, Thais were amazed by the news that a flock of white birds were circling his crematorium as a sign of barami (Matichon Reference Matichon2016). All of these accounts, some well documented, others anecdotal, provide the public with an image of a mythical king.

8.3.3 Barami and “Dhammacracy”

The Buddhist notion of barami evolved to justify absolute monarchy in premodern times, but can it become part of Thailand’s democracy today? Unfortunately, recent developments suggest that there is a problem with its use in a modern democratic system. The idea of barami suggests that only a meritorious and morally upright individual will rise to power. In other words, it allows only khon dee (good persons) into public office while excluding khon mai dee (bad persons). The core idea of democracy, by contrast, is basically to give the most popular person power, regardless of his or her personal moral quality. However, this risk is compensated with the limited duration of one’s political office. When Buddhist intelligentsia compares Buddhism and democracy, the conclusion is always that Western-imported ideology is inferior to the finer, and more nuanced, traditional one.

Thailand has come too far to return to absolute monarchy, which was abolished in 1932. The best the conservatives can offer is to forge a new ideology that suppresses democracy while justifying an undemocratic regime. The result of this process is “dhammacracy,” the governance of dhamma.Footnote ¹⁵

The famous monk Buddhadasa is regarded as the leading scholar of modernist Buddhism in Thailand. He advocates dhammic socialist dictatorship against liberal democracy (Buddhadasa 1975; Jackson Reference Jackson2003, 239–242). Buddhadasa imagines a Platonic-style philosopher-king whose objective and behavior are constrained by his own inner dhammic morality. Thus, his goal could only be to serve the whole and never be corrupt. According to Buddhadasa, dhammic socialist dictatorships are more efficient than capitalist democracies, which are too individualistic. In his estimation, MPs in a democratic government will waste precious time arguing, not for the public interest, but for their own wealth.

This view is supported by other scholars of the conservative spectrum (Pinyapan Reference Potjanalawan2019, 329–330). Chamlong Srimuang, the leader of the People’s Alliance for Democracy (PAD), which toppled Thaksin and incited a coup, was himself an admirer of the righteous dictatorial style of governance (Nelson Reference Nelson and Askew2010). The remark is undoubtedly controversial, leading to criticism that Buddhadasa’s ideas were used to support authoritarianism (Wanpat Reference Youngmevittaya2017; Gabaude Reference Gabaude and Sivaraksa1990; Jackson Reference Jackson2003, 243–244).

Perhaps, the most important articulation of barami-based political authority came from King Bhumibol, himself the embodiment of a hierarchical moral order. His 1969 speech delivered at the Vajiravuth boy scout camp in Chon buri succinctly encapsulated the essence of what the ideal Buddhist constitutionalism should be like. In the speech, the king admitted that there were good and bad people. While bad people could not always be converted, Thais could exclude those people from politics while supporting the rule of good people.Footnote ¹⁶ The speech was hugely popular, and it has become a mandate for the conservatives, appalled by the democratic idea that an evil yet popular man could win office. It is often recited to justify antidemocratic protests and coups. Bhumibol was himself a proof of his own theory when he intervened to settle political disputes.

The concepts of karma and barami form important building blocks of “dhammacracy,” the ultimate goal of which is to impose dhamma over any form of political regime (Jackson Reference Jackson and Ling1993, 77–80). In its application, “dhammacracy” forms the foundation of Thai-style democracy but can simply be a euphemism for authoritarianism (Hewison & Kengkij 2010; Connors Reference Connors2008). The king’s barami radiates to those who have close proximity to him: politically, his barami is extended to army generals, who are portrayed as guardians of the throne and of the nation (Chambers & Napisa Reference Chambers and Waitoolkiat2016, 425). Thai-style democracy thus places the king at the top of the political system. Below are his loyal senior bureaucrats, especially army generals, above corrupt and selfish civilian politicians. The lowest ranking is that of the populace, who are deemed to always vote for the wrong politicians. Thai-style democracy therefore permits military coup intervention in the name of His Majesty (Thongchai Reference Winichakul2018). The system of Thai-style democracy was formed during the military dictatorship in the Cold War period, but it began to crumble with the political and economic liberalization of the 1990s. That was when the majority demanded the 1997 political reform.

With the benefit of hindsight, the efforts of Thai-style democracy and the barami-based political authority can be detected even in the 1997 Constitution, questioning its name of the People’s Constitution. The 1997 Charter is called the People’s Constitution due to its empowerment of the people through a very progressive list of rights and liberties, and because it was produced as a result of a popular movement. But the initial agenda resulted in the introduction of the new judicial and independent watchdog bodies (Connors Reference Connors and McCargo2002).

The judicialization of politics often makes authoritarians’ control of politics appear to conform more to the international norm of democracy than an outright military junta (Landau & Dixon Reference Landau and Dixon2020, 1335–1338). Yet, in Thailand these judicial and independent agencies replaced the military as the new actor of high barami. Their goal was, in this sense, also to impose control over elected politicians and to prevent a political crisis. They are elite not only because they enjoy superior power, but also because these offices are limited to a few people of extraordinary qualification. The discrepancy is obvious in comparison to qualification for MP candidates. While any person aged twenty-five and above is eligible to run for parliament, a candidate for the watchdog agencies must be forty-five years old and have acquired higher education and a certain bureaucratic rank – for example, director-general of a government department, chief of a court, or professor – and display exemplary behavior and morality. All of these could arguably be considered modern signifiers of one’s barami. It should be no surprise therefore that Borwornsak Uwanno, the constitutional law scholar and key advocate of the 1997 Constitution drafting, later advocated “dhammacracy” (Reference Adulyadej2016).

Independent agencies are not a new feature in Thai public administration, the Bank of Thailand being one fine example of an independent body under the cabinet’s arm-length control. The Court of Justice has undoubtedly been independent from the political branches since 1901. Nevertheless, these new judicial and watchdog agencies are particularly significant because they are more independent than ever, with the constitution guaranteeing virtually no meaningful political oversight. Moreover, unlike the Court of Justice, these agencies are not bound by any tradition that serves as an implicit constraint. They are basically the fourth, fifth, sixth, and many other branches of government. The constitutions recognize them as separate from the conventional trinity of powers. There is therefore no guidance or constitutional convention to provide advice on how the legislative, executive, or judiciary should scrutinize them. The independence of these agencies, together with their expansive jurisdiction, may be necessary for scrutinizing politicians. But they are also a tangible display of barami, according to which a meritorious elite is set above the political actors. In fact, it might be argued that candidates are selected not because of their unique professional qualifications, but because of their moral quality. The Constitutional Court judges are the best example of this: no judge serving on that body can be described as an expert in public law (Somchai Reference Preechasinlapakul2018); and the better-known ones have a reputation for notable ascetic style, such as Jaran Pakdithanakul, whose interest in Buddhism is well known.

Why did the constitution drafters not install mechanisms to hold these elite bodies accountable? In a way, the political ideals of the Trai Phum have become self-fulfilling prophecies in modern Thailand: barami is considered to enhance political authority and so political authority comes to stand in for barami. More often than not, Thais accept that political authority indicates barami and that barami entails morality. All of this upends the Western concept of power and the famous maxim that power tends to corrupt. In Thailand, absolute power can never be corrupt because absolute power is granted only to a person of barami, which in itself guarantees righteousness.