Thai politics is confusing. The violence may be subsiding, leaving a trail of carnage in its wake, but the future of Thailand’s political landscape looks as uncertain as ever.

There have been 9 attempted coups in Thailand since 1932, most of them successful. Many were in fact integral in shaping the Thailand we know today. There is, of course, the 2006 coup which ousted Thaksin Shinawatra, the controversial then Prime Minister. But even the first of these, in 1932, changed Thai history by moving it away from absolute monarchy, and to the interventionist constitutional monarch we know today.

In spite of this, Thailand has rarely—perhaps never—been a functioning democratic state. And even as a state, its functioning has rarely been clear and consistent: Thailand has had 17 constitutions since 1932, the most recent one dating all the way back to 2007. For obvious reasons, the King has become a living embodiment of the Thai state—14 of Thailand’s constitutions were promulgated under his rule.

After 1997, Thailand looked to be on a less rocky road than it had ever been in its life. The 1997 constitution reformed the electoral system, furthered the separation of powers, decentralized authority, and established numerous checks on institutional power. It was the first constitution to explicitly recognize human rights. Thaksin, the first Prime Minister elected under the 1997 Constitution, also became the first Thai Prime Minister ever to finish a term in office.

Thaksin pursued an agenda of decentralizing the central government’s authority, universal healthcare, microcredit and other assistance for the poor, and privatizing state corporations. Thaksin’s administration balanced the budget, reduced public sector debt, and saw poverty rates halve. His supporters hailed “Thaksinomics” for revitalizing Thailand and putting it on a path to prosperity.

However, critics quailed at Thaksin’s welfare programs, arguing that they constituted little more than handouts. Many attributed the subsequent prosperity and fall in poverty rates to export-driven growth, which would have resulted under almost any government that pursued free trade policies, as Thaksin’s did.

At the same time, numerous allegations of corruption and human rights abuse plagued the Thaksin government. Many believed that Thaksin, a billionaire who had made his fortune in building a media empire, was too plagued by conflicts of interest to govern properly, and they marshaled evidence to their side. Many noted suspicious changes of turn in government policy which incidentally benefited Thaksin’s Shin Corporation, just as it was about to make major business decisions. Although Transparency International suggested corruption in Thailand improved mildly under Thaksin, other observers, like the World Bank, thought otherwise.

Meanwhile, a brutal insurgency raged in southern Thailand, eventually causing Thaksin to declare a state of emergency. Troops poured into the southern provinces from 2001 onwards, and faced numerous allegations of using unnecessary force. In many cases, Thaksin’s critics alleged, soldiers fired on peaceful demonstrators, or arrested them and left them in overcrowded trucks to die.

All this came to a head in 2006, when the government enacted the 2006 Thai Telecommunications Act. This law allowed foreigners to hold up to 49% of the shares in telecommunications companies, almost doubling the old cap of 25%. The same day the law passed, Thaksin’s family sold its 49.6% stake in the Shin Corporation, a media-based conglomerate, and seen as one of the pillars of the modern Thai economy. Even more controversially, using a loophole in the law, neither Thaksin nor any of his relatives had to pay taxes on the almost $2 billion they netted.

Protesters took to the streets of Bangkok in the tens of thousands, calling on Thaksin to resign. A disjointed coalition of different interests, each group participating in the demonstrations had its own reasons for being there. Sondhi Limthongkul, a media mogul who had once staunchly supported Thaksin, joined these groups into a coalition called the People’s Alliance for Democracy. Sondhi himself fell out with Thaksin over Thaksin’s forcing out the CEO of a state-owned bank who had been Sondhi’s personal friend. When the personal feud between Sondhi and Thaksin escalated, Thaksin ordered one of Sondhi’s television stations to stop broadcasting.

Other groups had somewhat less personal reasons for opposing Thaksin’s government. Many monks believed Thaksin had unfairly interfered in the administration of their internal affairs. Many unions also joined the protests, criticizing Thaksin’s privatization of many state-owned firms. Human rights activists in turn demanded Thaksin take responsibility for extrajudicial murders in fighting the insurgency, and suppressing freedom of speech.

Bowing to pressure, Thaksin called snap elections that April. At the same time, his government announced a number of populist measures, including boosting the minimum wage and government salaries, and providing debt relief for farmers. The opposition accused Thaksin of vote-buying and preying on uneducated farmers who might not fully appreciate the democratic import of their vote. Three major opposition parties boycotted the elections, which Thaksin’s party won handily.

After protests continued to rock Bangkok, Thaksin agreed to step down as Prime Minister after Parliament reconvened and elected his successor. However, the Constitutional Court ruled in May that the elections were fraudulent, and set a new polling date in October. The Democrat Party, the largest opposition party, agreed to contest the October elections.

But in September, while Thaksin was abroad on state business, a military coup seized power. The ruling junta cancelled the scheduled elections and nullified the 1997 Constitution. The opposition, which until now had been demanding Thaksin step down and be replaced by a royally-appointed Prime Minister, naturally welcomed the move. Many observers, however, believe that had the King taken a hard stance against the coup, it would have collapsed. By remaining silent, he tacitly endorsed Thaksin’s undemocratic removal.

New elections under the 2007 Constitution returned politicians loyal to Thaksin to power, however. The two elected Prime Ministers to follow Thaksin were both linked to him, frustrating his opponents. Both men were later found guilty of corruption or other conflicts of interest and removed from office, thus eventually bringing to power Abhisit Vejjajiva of the Democrat Party, whose election by Parliament was confirmed by the King at the end of 2008.

The National United Front of Democracy Against Dictatorship, a group linked with Thaksin and better known to us as “the Red Shirts,” then became instrumental in opposing Abhisit’s government. The Red Shirts alleged Abhisit had come to power undemocratically, and demanded fresh elections.

In March, the Red Shirts held what was reportedly the largest peaceful demonstration in Thai history. However, from March through April, a string of bombings rocked Bangkok, with nobody claiming responsibility. When their demands were not met, the Red Shirts occupied the city’s commercial district on April 3^rd—and here we are.

The situation in Thailand is very disturbing for myself and many others I know from the region, because it resonates all too well with us. Both sides have, as far as I know, acted inappropriately. Thaksin’s strategy of throwing government money at rural voters until they vote for him is essentially common political wisdom throughout the region, much to the chagrin of all of us who love democracy. But many of Thaksin’s policies were clearly beneficial for the Thai economy and society—even as he clearly manipulated its institutions for his own private ends. But his opponents are little better, having used democratically dubious means to strip Thaksin of his power and establish themselves in his place.

Last summer, I visited Bangkok for about a week. I walked down the streets which today are filled with smoke and corpses. One of the shopping centers I frequented is now barely standing after protesters set it on fire. Thailand is a beautiful country, and Bangkok one of the liveliest cities I have ever visited. It is heartbreaking—and yet there is no clear bad guy I can blame, no clear good guy I can support. When democracy and negotiation break down, nobody wins from the resulting violence.

In Malaysia, we may not have a history of coups, but we are familiar with the ups and downs of fighting for democracy. Friends with a longer history in the democratic movement tell me history here proceeds in fits and starts: two steps forward, one step back. The 1997 constitution of Thailand and the resulting polity looks like two steps forward; the chaos of today looks like a step back. Hopefully, when the dust settles, we will somehow see Thais taking another two steps forward, inching closer to the stable, democratic system of government which every country deserves.