INTERVIEW WITH KHUN WANWIPA

I’m arriving at a set of faintly-teal steel shutter doors identical to those you’d find in a traditional Chinese shop. Khun Wanwipa Suaymakmee invited us into her home, offering drinks and performing usual niceties. She seems slightly abashed, a little jittery – a nervousness she later credits to her inability to “remember the exact order of the events.” Of course, this was extremely understandable, seeing that the event in question occurred over half a century ago, and was still a contentious and deeply controversial topic for many modern Thais. We understood the gravity of the 1973 student protests and the grave impact it sustains on many modern Thai citizens to this day. Me and my friend settled into two stools, setting up our notepads on the wobbly collapsible stainless steel table. We made small talk and briefly explained the aims of our project to Khun Suaymakmee, who, at this point, praised us for the project idea, chancing that a lot of people from “your generation wouldn’t even know about the events [of October 1973].”

I started by asking Khun Suaymakmee about her background at the time of the protests: how old she was, what job she had, and any other general information. She raptly informed us that she “was about 30 years old, working as a journalist for a Chinese newspaper” in Thailand. She “translated Thai [news articles] to Chinese”, an endeavor to which she credited her “interest in politics.” Khun Suaymakmee reiterated and clarified that she did not write the news pieces: “I translated. But after that, I went on to become a journalist. But I wasn’t good at Thai back then. So I couldn't write well. But I have developed. Now I’m married to a native Thai speaker.”

I then asked her about the context of the protests at the time. She set the scene for us: “During that period of time, there were many student demonstrations,” she remarked. “Before that period of time there were coups and dictators. First it was Sarit who couped and then another one is Thanom. They pretended to have an election and then had a coup against themselves. So people who demanded justice were getting impatient. The nation, the society were helpless. We needed power and students started the crowd and we wanted to support them. People like Thirayuth Boonmee, Seksan, Jittinan were leaders back then.” Here, Khun Suaymakmee recalls the political turmoil of the early 1970s, when Field Marshal Sarit Thanarat’s 1957 coup ushered in years of military dictatorship marked by censorship, corruption, and absolute rule, later continued by his successors Thanom Kittikachorn and Praphas Charusathien, who staged repeated coups – even against their own government – while staging fake elections to maintain control, fueling public frustration that ultimately set the stage for the 1973 uprising.

​“Before [the incidents of October 1973] there were other incidents such as the "Red Barrel",” she continued. “I already was on the story and wanted to support and be involved with the student movement.” Here, she alludes to the “Red Barrel” killings — a mass execution in late 1972, during the military dictatorship of Thanom Kittikachorn and Praphas Charusathien, in which Thai government forces killed over 200 civilians (some reports claim as many as 3,000) in Tambon Lam Sai, Phatthalung Province, southern Thailand, after accusing them of supporting communists.

Being an avid follower of Thai politics, Khun Suaymakmee revealed that she had already participated in actively watching political demonstrations: “I went to many “Hyde Parks” or gatherings at Thammasat University many times.” In this context, the colloquial Thai term “Hyde Park” constitutes a verb that loosely means to give a public or political speech, or to openly voice one’s opinions in public. This originates from Hyde Park Corner in London, famous for its Speaker’s Corner, where people freely express political opinions.

Khun Suaymakmee then reveals that she was part of the masses on October 13th 1973, enraptured among the student protestors at Democracy Monument. “I wanted to increase the number of people there, so I asked a friend to go to Thammasat on October 13th.” The implication was that she wanted to help the students place more pressure on the Thai government to correct their actions. When we pressed further for why she wanted to attend the protests, she responded that it was in the nature of her journalist profession. “We went often [to political demonstrations] and we wanted to be involved. I was a journalist so I wanted to know the truth… Before this there were incidents like killing people in the “Red Barrel” event, and Thung Yai Naresuan helicopter crash and illegal hunting.” Here, Khun Suaymakmee references the “Red Barrel” killings again, alongside the infamous scandal of the Thung Yai Naresuan Wildlife Sanctuary helicopter crash. In the most notorious poaching incident, on April 29, 1973, a military helicopter crashed inside the sanctuary, killing six senior police and military officers. It was later revealed that they were among a group of over 50 officials on an illegal four-day hunting trip in the protected area. Reports alleged that the hunters held parties where they cooked and ate the animals they had killed. The military denied any wrongdoing, and the prime minister quickly dismissed the incident. This scandal in particular exposed the corruption in the elite echelons of Thai society and became a key proponent to sparking the fire that culminated in the student protests and thus the October 14th tragedy.

“We went to Sanam Luang at the start of the evening,” Khun Suaymakmee continued. “There were speakers like Seksan Prasertkul, Chiranan Pitpreecha… Those were the highlights.” Sanam Luang was and still stands as a historic public square in front of Bangkok’s Grand Palace, historically used for royal ceremonies, political gatherings, and national events. Seksan Prasertkul was the second-in-command to Thirayuth Boonmee in the National Student Center of Thailand; he became the executive leader temporarily due to Boonmee’s imprisonment at the time. Similarly, Chiranan Pitpreecha was a scholar and an emerging voice advocating for the student party.

“We didn't plan to stay overnight but we couldn't get out. We met one of my cousins, so there were 3 of us. We were stuck inside, so we just went along with the crowd. That was the night of October 13th.” Khun Suaymakmee recounted. I made the conjecture that it must’ve felt extremely claustrophobic and threatening to be in an environment like that. However, her later answer revealed another side of that coin. “When we were there, we could see power from students and other people… We felt powerful because there was a very large crowd. We thought that we could get what was demanded such as democracy or the constitution. We could succeed.”

She then began to talk about October 14th 1973. “The next day is what they call Wan Maha Wippayok.” In English, “Wan Maha Wippayok” directly translates to “The Day of Great Sorrow”, a name apt for a tragic incident that radically affected Thai citizens for the last 50 years.

“In the morning, [a group of students] paraded to Chitlada palace to see the King,” Khun Suaymakmee said. “When me and my friend and my cousin were near the palace, people said something bad happened. They were shooting at the students.” I had the sense that she was finding it increasingly challenging to find words. “The shooting took place in front of the crowd, so we didn't see. But they were telling people to just disperse, and go home.” I wondered if she felt any fear at all, but her tone didn’t give anything away. I asked her to expand about how she found out about the shootings if she didn’t actually witness any of it “They just announced it. The incident was getting violent and dangerous. So they told people to go home. When we were going home, many people were talking about the shootings… They said the King opened the palace and the students could get in,” she said. “We were confused but at that point we went back home.”

We tried to ask more about her thoughts and feelings as the shootings started. “I realized they were being punished,” Khun Suaymakmee replied as we probed further. “I felt it was wrong. The constitution was being drafted for more than 10 years and was still unfinished. The government was a dictatorship. The shootings were wrong but it’s difficult to describe the situation. We just went home.” Her tone was more definite this time, and thus we didn’t want to prod any further.

We then asked about her family’s political views. “I hadn't married yet at that point,” she responded. “I stayed with my mom and my siblings. But they didn't care much about politics. We didn't think that this would happen. I just went to listen to the speech and wanted to feel empowered.” After this, she told us what happened later in the evening of October 14th: “The King came out to talk about it in the evening and the matter went silent. The next day they made Thanom and Praphas flee the country.”

Knowing her background as someone who worked quite involvedly with media, we also wanted to ask about her viewpoint of the incidents in particular, from a journalism perspective. She brings up the topic of credibility, telling us about the confusing media landscape of the time. “I knew there was real news and fake news. I analysed the news I received carefully and took the students’ side… of course it is up to interpretation for if it was the right side.” In an attempt to garner a more specific answer from her, we asked how journalism differed from before to after the incidents, to which she replied: “Before, journalists didn't dare. After a while, they were impatient and dared to present the news. There were people of power too. When people demanded for a new and fairer constitution, the government couldn't answer so they wanted to crack down on the students. The students were successful at making a crowd and gathering lots of people. When the crowds were big, they wanted to fight.” She said the last sentence in quite a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was an obvious and natural law of human psychology.

I wondered how the students were able to gather so many people, even with the government’s accounts adding to the public confusion. “That's true,” she said when I brought up the fact that the government was able to control public media and that the students’ communication to the public was fairly limited. “But the students put up an exhibition and did many “Hyde Park”s, inviting people to talk about what was happening. There were good newspapers and writers that were willing to tell the truth. There was news of newspaper closures too. But people can see that the students were the leaders in uncovering the truth… uncovering corruption. So people saw and took the students’ side.” I thought this was immensely interesting – the fact that the students still found ways to advocate for their cause amidst censorship and threats to their safety. We then asked Khun Suaymakmee about her own publication, asking her whether the newspaper she worked for presented news of this event.

​“The news got so big. It became impossible for people to not present it. It just depended on how well each newspaper presented it.” She then pondered for a bit and concluded, “I think my newspaper presented it well. I got to translate some of the pieces.” Then, she offered some context for her role as a translator. “I also taught night school to adults at that time. I’ve taught for over 20 years, but at that time, I would’ve taught for around 10 years. I taught every subject in Chinese… I needed to research and prepare teaching materials, so I was quite proficient in Chinese. I think I translated the news accurately… hopefully.”

Being a part of the younger generation, we wondered if there had been any major changes in student activism over the last 50 years. “I think now, there are less youth movements,” Khun Suaymakmee observed. “There were groups of volunteers that helped in developing the upper part of the country. They gathered into groups and advocated for democracy. I think that mattered. Back then, education in economic policy and politics was good. The students loved our nation and democracy. They had great minds and purpose. They learnt in theory and this opened their eyes to the injustices in Thailand. They felt that reality wasn't like what they learnt. So they worked for it. Nowadays, I think people are less likely to think of others; the younger generation have become a little more selfish.” I felt she said this in an uncompromisingly forthright way. However, simultaneously, I had the suspicion she might be, at the least, half-right. With the increasingly interconnected world, I felt that a sense of Thai patriotism has been somewhat diluted in Thai youth. Perhaps my generation wouldn’t have fought as bravely or advocated as fiercely for our nation. But at the same time, Khun Suaymakmee doesn’t think something the same scale of the protests would happen today. “I don’t think it’s going to happen again,” she reflected. “It's different now. Communication is better and fake news is easier to spot. Though democracy is still not that fair and not developed…” After this remark, I asked if she thought these protests 50 years ago helped progress the development of a more democratic state in Thailand at all. Before answering, she wetted her lips, almost as if she was stalling for time. “I think… It’s hard to answer this,” she began. “At the time, the movements were revolutionary but the fight back was also strong. I think it has gone back and forth over the years so it is hard to say for sure.” I understood her struggle to summon an answer for this question; Thai politics is a strong area of contention and we didn’t want to overstep what she was comfortable sharing. 

Following the strand of thinking of if the events would happen again in the modern Thai political climate, we asked her about her views on social media. “I think social media now is a good thing,” she quickly said. “It's quick and can spread information all around the world very quickly. The truth can be uncovered easily. People don't need to just listen to the government. Maybe there would be a bigger crowd.” I think the biggest takeaway was that efficient communication would’ve been able to solve many of the problems associated with Wan Maha Wippayok. The contention was arguably already over as the two parties started displaying aggression. The government had allegedly agreed to the students’ terms already. We speculated that perhaps the situation escalated as everyone was fighting with force. Perhaps the situation could’ve been avoided if the Thanom–Praphas regime had allowed genuine communication with student leaders instead of dismissing them as “communist agitators”. However, this is just speculation; we cannot speak from experience as we never had to experience the tragedies of October 1973.

Ending this interview, we asked if Khun Suaymakmee had any final remarks. She responded with this sentiment: “The people who didn’t experience it will have no idea about what it was like. People who did experience it are mostly already dead. So it is important to get this story out. To let people know the long line of history we have in challenging authority.” Personally, I whole-heartedly agree; my perception of Thailand – and of the student generations who came before me – has completely changed. I hope that others in my generation, too, can see a part of themselves in these student protesters and feel inspired to speak up, just as they once did.