Anutin’s Rise and the People’s Party’s Test

Once spearheading Thailand’s progressive surge, the People’s Party (PP) now faces a critical test between idealism and pragmatism. This tension was evident in September, when the PP backed Anutin Charnvirakul and Bhumjaithai (BJT) in forming a minority government. This was a risky gamble, considering the BJT’s recent efforts to cast itself as a guardian of the conservative military-monarchy establishment and the PP’s previous commitment to reforming that power structure. More crucially, it risks weakening the movement that gave PP its legitimacy. The political landscape following the dissolution of the Move Forward Party (MFP) under lèse-majesté charges has influenced PP’s repositioning, forcing it to tread carefully amid a political climate that is intolerant of dissent against royal or military authority.

PP’s wager on Anutin was less about the immediate spoils of power and more about recalibrating its political strategy. After all, its predecessor, the MFP, emerged on calls to rewrite the constitution and abolish the lèse-majesté law, appealing to a generation eager to dismantle the legacies of military rule. However, Thailand’s political system, dominated by institutions and actors that have become entrenched since the 2014 coup, remains impervious to major reform. Mechanisms like the Constitutional Court often function as barriers to reform and neutralise threats to the conservative status quo. 

The recent Thai-Cambodian border conflict has also boosted the military’s public standing. Long vilified as coup makers, the military has re-emerged as a “heroic” institution confronting an external threat. This new prestige directly undercuts PP’s reformist agenda when it comes to curbing military influence. What once seemed righteous defiance against a discredited military now requires measured pragmatism against an institution enjoying renewed legitimacy.

In this political environment, success for PP cannot simply be measured by whether it clings to its founding principles, but by whether it can translate them into a broader, more flexible strategy that ensures it remains an enduring institution. The deal with the BJT was no ordinary horse-trading; it was a deliberate strategy. By declining cabinet seats but offering parliamentary support, the PP shielded itself from allegations of co-optation with the erstwhile “enemy” of the reform movement, while attempting to extract two concrete gains: a timetable for constitutional reform and a parliamentary dissolution within four months. This approach allowed PP to project itself as a reformist force and a power broker capable of forcing concessions from pro-establishment forces. This is a leverage it has never possessed previously.

It was a calculated risk to sacrifice a purely “pro-democratic” government lineup in exchange for securing a partnership with a party that holds the political keys to initiating the constitutional review process. Any amendment requires the backing of one-third of the Senate, still dominated by BJT affiliates, making progress impossible without its support. Previously, the BJT was “lukewarm” on reform. By drawing the BJT into supporting a constitutional referendum, the PP aimed to turn a new minority government into a catalyst for institutional change.

In this political environment, success for PP cannot simply be measured by whether it clings to its founding principles, but by whether it can translate them into a broader, more flexible strategy that ensures it remains an enduring institution.

However, the move also gives the BJT room to shape the process on its own terms. The 10 September court ruling barred a fully elected constitution-drafting assembly, ensuring that the public cannot directly choose the drafters. This outcome plays to BJT’s advantage, as it allows the party and a Blue-leaning Senate (so-called “blue” senators are linked to the BJT) to retain influence over how the process unfolds. The same senate is also set to endorse two new Election Commission appointments aligned with BJT, reinforcing the party’s indirect influence over the body responsible for supervising the constitutional referendum. Still, founder of the dissolved Future Forward Party, Thanathorn Juangroongruangkit viewed the move as the only viable path for constitutional reform, without alienating centrist or risk-adverse allies.

Furthermore, the demand for an early election is vital to the PP’s long-term strategy, as it believes that a fresh poll would secure a renewed mandate. By supporting a weak, minority government led by the BJT, the PP aimed to position Anutin as a transitional leader whose primary role is to return political power to the electorate, representing a strategic form of leverage. However, there are limits to this political gambit. The latest NIDA poll in September 2025 placed PP at 33.08 per cent, its lowest level of support so far, suggesting that its gamble on pragmatism may be eroding public enthusiasm.

Given its unpopularity among some pro-democracy supporters, the stakes for the PP are existential. If the PP succeeds, it would have leveraged the established order, parliamentary tactics, and the old guard’s desperation for power to create a forced constitutional rewrite and quickly return to elections. This approach acknowledges that the progressive movement can only win by strategically breaking or bending the establishment’s rules to achieve better outcomes.

 At best, if Anutin honours reform commitments and Parliament is dissolved, the PP enters fresh elections and can claim credit for shifting Thai politics. In the worst case scenarios, promises are delayed or diluted, leaving the PP to be branded naïve for enabling the status quo. The likeliest outcome is something in between: modest constitutional amendments that fall short of structural change, narratives contested over who deserves credit for these reforms, and a prolonged test of whether the PP can sustain itself as a power broker without alienating its grassroots.

Without tangible wins, its power broker role in supporting the BJT could collapse into accusations of complicity. That failure would not just cost votes. It could shatter the trust of young voters who have carried the progressive cause since 2019. In the end, the paradox remains: a party born of defiance against the conservative establishment now depends on pragmatism for survival. Whether that tension can be reconciled will determine if the PP endures as an institution or fades as a progressive movement. The challenge is to demonstrate that moderation within this constrained environment can still yield meaningful reform, rather than signal retreat. It is the ultimate test of whether genuine, fundamental change can be achieved within an entrenched and hostile system through strategic pragmatism.

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