Flight of the Thunderbird

For nearly 20 years the most agile, deft and eely politician in Southeast Asia's luxuriant political quagmire had been Thailand's steel-willed, soft-voiced Dictator Pibulsonggram. Pibul's favorite color is green, and he found it attractive in everything from U.S. dollars to neckties and the flashy Ford Thunderbird and Mercedes-Benz sports cars in which he liked to hot-rod it along Thailand's highways and byways. In the tinseled and temple-dotted capital of Bangkok, Westerners liked to dismiss Pibul as just another crooked politician. But he was much more than that.

In many ways it was Pibul more than any other Thai leader who built modern Thailand. He is a pensive sort of man, a firm-believer in the predictions of his personal astrologers, and in recent years has indicated often that he would like to retire. But, he would say, "there are only three ways to remove a dictator: by exile, jail or burial."

Time of Decision. Last week Pibul achieved exile. With him into discard, but in a different direction, went the more powerful of his two oldest and closest political cronies, Police Chief General Phao Sriyanond. His second longtime crony, Army Field Marshal Sarit Thanarat, stayed on in Bangkok, comfortably ensconced as the new political leader of Thailand.

Marshal Sarit, onetime heavy drinker now reformed (liver trouble) who raises orchids and roses in his spare time, seemed genuinely sorry that he had found it necessary to call in his tanks and troops to remove Pibul. "I would like to say," said the marshal wistfully, "that I am not pleased with what I am doing. I will always be grateful to the Prime Minister. He has done a great deal for the nation."

Sarit added that he hoped Pibul would return, and "even run for Parliament, if he likes." Others were less kind. Cracked a Western diplomat: "This is the end of government of the Pibul, by the Pibul. and for the Pibul."

Marshal Sarit's bloodless coup so surprised Bangkok diplomats that most of them heard of it at breakfast the morning after. Shortly before midnight Marshal Sarit's brand-new U.S. tanks and weapons carriers had taken up positions controlling Bangkok's key traffic arteries. Efficient little Thai infantrymen, troops of Sarit's crack 1st Division, set up mortar and machine-gun emplacements, and over the radio came the first of a series of orders from Sarit and the new government.

"I Won't Resign." One of the first orders directed General Phao, who had been forced to resign as police chief the week before, to surrender himself. Phao heard the order at home, went first to a nearby Chinese bar for two quick bracers, then to Sarit's headquarters. Along the way, Phao unbuckled his police automatic and chucked it into the viscid, green waters of a Bangkok canal. Sarit gave him two choices: leave the country or become a Buddhist monk. Phao chose to leave for Switzerland, where he can count his money. He had not been exiled, said a Foreign Ministry official and, in fact, would go to work in the Thai legation in Geneva. In what capacity? "Oh," said the official, "as an adviser, or something like that."

Kept in Kep. As Sarit's troops were moving into position to take over Bangkok, the army radio broadcast frantic appeals for Pibul to surrender. "Please report, please report as soon as possible," said the military announcers. But Pibul, accompanied only by a military aide, was already speeding south at the wheel of his Thunderbird. Somewhere along the coast of the Gulf of Siam, Pibul and his aide boarded a navy LCM manned by his personal guards. Three days later Pibul and a skeleton personal staff disembarked some 200 miles away at the Cambodian seaside resort of Kep. On hand to meet him was a covey of Cambodian officials to tell him he was welcome if he agreed to indulge in no politicking. Pibul assented, was driven off to the capital of Pnompenh in a cream-and-green Buick thoughtfully provided by his hosts.

Change for the Better. His victorious successor, granite-faced Marshal Sarit got official blessing from 29-year-old King Phumiphon Aduldet, then sent personal messages to the U.S. and British embassies assuring them that the change in government presaged no change in Thailand's pro-Western foreign policy. As an earnest of his intentions, Sarit saw to it that able, pro-Western Pote Sarasin, a 52-year-old aristocrat who served for five years as Ambassador to Washington, was named temporary Premier. Meanwhile, a scheduled meeting of the SEATO military group convened in Bangkok without a hitch. Said Sarit: "Only the hosts have changed."

Though the ouster of Pibul meant the loss of one of the Orient's most colorful political personalities, there was reason to believe that, in the long run, the change in Thailand might prove one for the better--for Thailand as well as for its SEATO allies, including the U.S. Pibul had often been embarrassingly pro-U.S. in his public statements (though his personal newspapers were bitterly anti-American), and because both he and General Phao were personally unpopular with Thailanders, the U.S. has in recent months been sharing their odium. While the new government was settling in, U.S. diplomats would themselves have a welcome chance to start afresh.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.