In Bangkok

THEY started pouring in midway through Saturday morning, and were still coming in the evening to pack the Rajamangala stadium.

In the end, easily around 70,000 people were on hand, all in red shirts, turning the stadium into a sea of crimson.

The merchandise and the slew of information materials, as well as the packaging – even the chairs outside the stadium proper were red – clearly showed the pro-government, pro-Thaksin Shinawatra camp had after months of fumbling, finally had its act together.

An organiser surveys the packed stadium.
Source: Nirmal Ghosh

ST Thailand Correpondent Nirmal Ghosh (left) with government spokesman Nattawut Saikuar (in red shirt) at the backstage of the event on Saturday. 
Source: Nick Nostitz

There were shades of the marketing and branding acumen of the erstwhile Thai Rak Thai political machine that Thaksin Shinawatra had rode to power from 2001-2005 before it was demolished in 2006.

It was a calibrated response to the yellow-shirted, royalist People's Alliance for Democracy (PAD) which still occupies Government House demanding that the ruling People Power Party (PPP) mentored by Thaksin – a wanted fugitive from the law in Thailand – resign to pave the way for sweeping political reform.

And Thaksin played to the gallery. Swirling lights and epic music provided a buildup to a phoned in question and answer session with Thaksin – reputedly in Hong Kong – followed by a pre-recorded video.

''I have grown old'' he said – and he did look tired.

In a measured address, he said he had been invited to invest in many countries – but was not welcome in his homeland. He mentioned the economic damage Thailand is enduring because of the long political conflict coupled with the growing global recession.

He was ''on message'' as political handlers would say. The crowd listened with rapt attention. And erupted in cheers when he ended.

The show of strength – the PAD has been hard put to muster more than 10,000 people on the streets, much below their halcyon days of early 2006 when Thaksin was in power – meant the battle has been joined.

The taxi driver who took me back home to write up my report, was wearing a red T-shirt and was almost giggling with delight on the long drive from Ramkhamhaeng to Sukhumvit. Like many taxi drivers in Bangkok, he was from Isan – Thaksin's stronghold. As he dropped me off, he announced that he was going right back to the stadium.

The mood at the event – under the banner of the pro-government Truth Today TV station (which if truth be told is considered boring government propaganda by many viewers) the mood was festive but importantly, also orderly.

There was no bad-mouthing or rabble-rousing, and the feared violence did not occur. Most of the crowd was pro-Thaksin, but several I spoke to seemed to resent being branded pro-Thaksin and said they were in favour instead of one person, one vote democracy – and definitely against the idea of military intervention.

The crowd dispersed happily after Thaksin's speech. On the pavements outside the stadium they chattered and sometimes continued cheering, clearly elated by what was a cathartic night after months of pressure from the right wing, royalist PAD.

In contrast late Saturday night - or more accurately in the wee hours of Sunday morning - a group of young men out for the night took a wrong turn and reportedly found themselves stuck among some tyres and barbed wire laid out by the PAD to protect their protest site at Government House. The boys, upset, yelled at the PAD guards who promptly shot at them, hitting one of them in the back.
 
Earlier on Saturday as I arrived at the stadium around 5pm, I spotted former foreign minister Noppadon Pattama in from the cold. Noppadon – forced to resign earlier this year when a court found he had violated procedure in agreeing that Cambodia could apply for World Heritage status for the disputed Preah Vihear temple – was at a stall busily signing copies of a freshly minted autobiography.

In another stall former cabinet minister Jakrapop Penkair was signing red T-shirts with the word ''Dictator'' on them crossed out in black. The man has a charge of lese majeste – insulting the monarchy – hanging over him, but was grinning from ear to ear as the crowds flooded in.

Former cabinet minister Jakrapop Penkair.
Source: Nirmal Ghosh

Chaturon Chaisang autographs T-shirts.
Source: Nirmal Ghosh

Next door was a stalwart of Thai politics, Chaturon Chaisang, a cabinet minister in successive Thaksin administrations and briefly leader of the Thai Rak Thai party before it was dissolved by the courts after Thaksin had been removed from power by the military. Chaturon was signing everything in sight and was being besieged as if he was a rock star.

Later he and Jakrapob sang songs on stage before Thaksin's appearance.

A police intelligence officer sat prominently videotaping everyone who came to the event. When I paused to take a picture of him he good naturedly moved the camera to focus on me. The police are probably pleased that the pro-government groups – loosely called the United Front for Democracy against Dictatorship (UDD) have begun putting out their alternative version of the events of recent weeks. One booklet featured pictures of police being battered by PAD security ''guards'' on October 7.

Police surveillance at the event.
Source: Nirmal Ghosh

At 6pm when the national anthem played, the stadium reverberated with the sound of 70,000 voices.
 
At the other end of town the few thousand yellow-shirted PAD supporters still occupying Government House were doing exactly the same thing. But the Rajamangala event has changed the complexion of the game.

''Huge show of strength'' the pro-PAD daily The Nation said in its story under the banner headline ''Thaksin: Reconcile'' with the report focusing on his speech.

The front page was dominated by a fish-eye picture of the full stadium taken around 6pm, with the bleachers still empty.
 
The Bangkok Post had a similar picture but taken later, with all the seats full. The paper led with the headline ''Only royal kindness can get me home'' – a line from Thaksin's speech, interpreted as a plea for clemency from the King.