For the past four years, we've received a steady diet of the junta's theme songs that preach about "returning happiness" and the virtues of peace, order and nationalism. Since last week, however, the anthem that has stolen the thunderbolt is Prathet Ku Mee (What My Country’s Got), an infectious viral rap by a group called Rap Against Dictatorship.
Music has always played a role in politics all over the world, said panellists at last week's seminar. On one side, it’s a tool of expression for the people; on the other, it’s used to deliver propaganda by the powers that be.
Academics and members of Rap Against Dictatorship joined the discussion on the topic of arts, power and resistance held at Thammasat University. In a room full of the general public and media, with some people wearing T-shirts that read “I want an election”, the crowd cheered when Prathet Ku Mee was played. They also hugged and thanked the rappers for their daring work.
The song vents off on anger, frustration and dissent against a litany of woes: state corruption, injustice, lack of freedom, postponed elections, as well as the unresolved killing of the black leopard, Deputy PM Gen Prawit Wongsuwon's borrowed wristwatches, the city turning into a killing field, soldiers taking over parliament and more. In the black-and-white music video, the rappers perform amid the infamous scene from the Oct 6, 1976, massacre where police and right-wing militia killed and brutalised scores of people.
Rapper Jacoboi, a member of Rap Against Dictatorship, said at the seminar that the Oct 6 incident was used as an analogy to the current situation, when people are clearly divided into sides, with state authority intervening to make everything worse.
“People don’t have to share the same ideas in a democratic world. We can debate, but in that debate, we have to hold our own space without letting state power — especially one of dictatorship — come in and steal this space from us," he said at the discussion that also saw law and sociology academics as speakers.
The music video (now age-restricted and its comment section turned off) has garnered over 26 million views on YouTube since its release on Oct 22, thanks to deputy police chief Srivara Ransibrahmanakul who told local media the song could be violating the law and junta order. He initially warned the rappers could be summoned and, if found to be against the law, both the rappers and their families could be in trouble. To the public, he said everyone must stop listening, singing, liking and sharing the song.
However, the police general has since backed off, saying on Monday that no law had been broken and we could listen to the song. His “retreat" was perhaps already too late, as the song - and most importantly the discussion it generated - already spread like wildfire.
“Just because they backed off so easily, we can’t conclude that this is the people’s victory just yet,” cautioned Asst Prof Sawatree Suksri, of Thammasat's Faculty of Law.
"Nobody had a sudden change of heart on people's freedom of expression. The authority’s just gotten smart because they’ve realised the more they want to seal off people’s lips, the more people want to speak up. The more they want to close people's ears, the more people want to listen.”
The panellists agreed that music, as a form of protest, is a beautiful tool as it makes for a bloodless fight. It’s a way to express ideology, through creativity and careful presentation, and allows difficult messages to be told and digested easily by its listeners. Smooth, yet with a strong impact.
Sawatree said political and critical music and other art forms often become the subject of banning and censorship by authorities.
“When it’s easy to understand, that’s when it poses a strong impact on society. When that happens, a government that's not open-minded would feel they’re being affected,” said Sawatree.
Political music has been wielded constantly on both sides of power. Internationally, people have been singing Blowin’ In The Wind for decades. Recently, Childish Gambino caused a sensation with This Is America, which excoriated gun violence and racism in the US. These songs have been played countless times, spreading their messages to the world.
But oppressive governments have used music to manipulate the masses and prop up dictators, too. German composer Richard Wagner's strident anti-Semitism made him a favourite of Hitler and the Nazi party. Beethoven's Symphony No.9 has long been a subject of an ideological tussle, with both peace lovers and fascists fighting to own the true meaning of the composition.
In Thailand, music likewise has evolved with the political scene since the days of Siam, according to Assoc Prof Suchart Sangthong, music lecturer at Nakhon Sawan Rajabhat University. From the time when the British anthem God Save The Queen came in during the reign of King Rama IV, which inspired then royal anthem Jom Raj Jong Charoen, to patriotic tunes under Field Marshal Plaek Phibulsonggram to promote cultural mandates, the beats and melodies have been used to different purposes and formats here.
“This kind of music is unavoidably rooted in the ideology of its creator to reflect the political culture in each era,” Suchart said.
While rap as a genre is taking over today, decades ago, it was molam music in the Northeast that both the state and communists used to spread messages and ideologies during the Cold War, said Thanom Chapakdee, arts lecturer from Srinakharinwirot University.
This "soft power" was also prevalent in the popularity of puea cheewit music, or protest songs popular in the 70s and 80s, which took jabs at the dysfunctional society. Bands such as Caravan and Carabao wrote anthems for disaffected people crying out against injustice and state repression, with lyrics tinged with left-wing ideology and even Marxist-Leninist flag-flying. The student uprisings of the 1970s were fuelled by the passion and hope offered by protest songs.
Their popularity faded in recent years, however, after music and ideology were no longer holding hands.
"The aesthetics of resistance has always been there," Thanom added. "And in Prathet Ku Mee, it's very interesting as people are frustrated to the point they're hungry for release, and they just don’t know where to go.
“With Section 44 in place now, we work with risks. But if there’s no risk, then we can’t resist. We can’t listen to this kind of music during the time of freedom,” he said.
In the meantime, the YouTube views of the Prathet Ku Mee keep rising.
