The Tactical Mirage: Fragile Equilibrium, Institutional Naïveté, and the Illusion of Military Threat in Thai Politics, 2025

This essay examines Thailand’s precarious political landscape in 2025, marked by the Pheu Thai Party’s tenuous grip on power, the opposition People Party’s call for an interim government, and the broader narrative of constitutional anxiety. Through a layered analysis of parliamentary strategy, institutional procedure, and military posture, it challenges the rationale behind the People Party’s withdrawal from legislative engagement and its invocation of coup fears. Rather than reflecting genuine democratic concern, these moves reveal a calculated effort to bypass due process under the guise of crisis. What emerges is a fragile but functioning equilibrium—one sustained not by consensus, but by the absence of viable alternatives.

The image shows Prime Minister Paetongtarn Shinawatra, who has also been royally appointed to concurrently serve as Minister of Culture. (At present, the Constitutional Court has suspended her from performing her duties as Prime Minister while investigating a pending complaint.) Meanwhile, Deputy Prime Minister Suriya Jungrungreangkit is acting as Prime Minister and led the Cabinet in an audience to take the oath of allegiance before assuming office at the Amphorn Sathan Residential Hall, Dusit Palace, on July 3, 2025. [source]

The Fragile Equilibrium: A Strategic Essay on Thai Parliamentary Stability in 2025

In the mid-year political landscape of Thailand 2025, an intricate balance of power emerges between four primary factions, Pheu Thai Party (PTP), People Party (PP), Bhumjai Thai Party (BJT), and a constellation of eleven smaller political groups collectively termed as “Others.” Though the surface arithmetic of parliamentary seats suggests a functioning majority under PTP’s leadership, the deeper structure reveals a fragile, tension-laden equilibrium that resists easy resolution. As observers attempt to interpret the shifting alliances and strategic moves through familiar frameworks like the Westminster system, a more nuanced calculus must be employed, one shaped not only by parliamentary rules but by political leverage, public perception, and the silent threat of realignment.

Contrary to the rhetoric propagated by the opposition, the current Thai Parliament is neither hung nor governed by a minority coalition. The numbers are unambiguous: PTP and its remaining allies command 253 of 493 total seats, securing a slim but legitimate majority above the constitutional threshold of 248. In a formal sense, this permits the government to continue operating, pass legislation, and sustain confidence, however narrowly, in the House. This is not a government in freefall, nor one that has lost its claim to power. Yet, the political tension surrounding this majority arises not from its legal standing but from its perceived fragility and the unrelenting contest of legitimacy in public discourse.

It is within this context that the People Party constructs its argument. Recognizing that the PTP-led coalition remains numerically intact, PP redirects the debate from legality to functional viability. They argue that such a slender margin of support renders the administration perpetually unstable, vulnerable to even minor defections or policy missteps. This, they suggest, creates an atmosphere of political tension so thick that it inhibits governance and undermines public trust. In their view, the proper response to this instability is not participation, whether through forming a coalition or providing conditional support on key votes, but withdrawal. From this position, they call for the formation of an interim government tasked solely with executing urgent national duties, such as passing the budget and preparing for early elections.

Yet, this argument, while rhetorically forceful, is constitutionally hollow. There exists no legal mandate for the establishment of an interim government in the absence of a successful no-confidence vote or a failure to pass the budget. Moreover, the current administration has not been rendered incapable by institutional paralysis. It continues to function, albeit under pressure. The People Party’s refusal to provide even conditional support, and its preference for pressing for a full dissolution of Parliament, suggests that its strategy is not rooted in preserving democratic order but in cultivating a sense of crisis that might precipitate early elections more favorable to their ascendancy.

Meanwhile, Pheu Thai’s choice to govern without BJT, despite the numerical cost, emerges as a calculated risk. The decision followed a sharp deterioration in relations between the two parties, with BJT allegedly demanding control over powerful ministries such as the Ministry of Interior. When PTP offered a limited reshuffle, BJT rejected the compromise and exited the coalition. Not long after, the withdrawal was followed by a political assault involving leaked diplomatic communications, namely a controversial phone call between Prime Minister Paethongtarn and former Cambodian leader Hun Sen, used by BJT to question PTP’s competence and legitimacy.

In this volatile atmosphere, the strategic posture of each player converges into what game theory identifies as a Nash equilibrium. PTP, though under pressure, continues to govern, leveraging its slim majority to avoid further concessions to opportunistic former allies. PP maintains its position in the opposition, amplifying instability without assuming responsibility. BJT hovers outside the formal power structure, unable to reclaim influence without subordinating itself again, and the Others, those eleven smaller parties, extract concessions in exchange for quiet support, reluctant to gamble their standing in a premature election.

No party, within this configuration, has a clear incentive to unilaterally alter its position. Were PTP to surrender ministries to bring BJT back, it would compromise its internal control and policy agenda. If PP shifted to support the budget, it would forfeit its oppositional narrative. Should BJT attempt a reentry, it risks being cast again as a junior partner without real autonomy. The smaller factions, if they abandon PTP, risk destabilizing the system in ways that could diminish their own leverage.

Thus, the current situation, though undesirable, though ridden with strategic distrust and rhetorical brinkmanship, holds. It is a configuration that no one prefers, but none can improve upon unilaterally. It is not, in the technical sense, a hung parliament or a minority government. But it is the product of power at its most tenuous: a coalition held together by inertia, opposition defined by rejectionism, and alliances held in abeyance, waiting for the first sign of collapse. This is the logic of fragile equilibrium in Thai politics, and it is likely to endure until an external shock, electoral, judicial, or geopolitical, forces a reconfiguration that no one yet dares to initiate

Why the People Party’s Proposal Appears Naïve in Institutional Terms

The PP's evolving proposal for an interim government, initially floated with BJT leader Anutin as a potential figurehead, but later softened to include any candidate acceptable to both PP and BJT. continues to reflect a significant misreading of parliamentary norms and constitutional procedure. Though such discussions may not originate from top leadership, and are perhaps explored informally through lower-ranking intermediaries, the underlying rationale remains unchanged: to replace the sitting government outside the formal parliamentary mechanism. While the stated aim, managing a fragile administration amid scandal and facilitating a new election, may resonate with public frustration, the proposal collapses under institutional scrutiny. It sidesteps the constitutional requirement that any new prime minister must be selected by a House vote, reducing democratic process to political accommodation untethered from legislative authority.

The core issue centers on the current status of Prime Minister Paethongtarn Shinawatra, who is under investigation by the Constitutional Court and temporarily suspended from performing her executive duties. This situation, while dramatic, does not automatically trigger the collapse of the cabinet. The government continues under the caretaker leadership of the Deputy Prime Minister. However, should the Court eventually rule against Paethongtarn, either for misconduct or unconstitutional action, her removal could, under specific interpretations of the Thai Constitution, precipitate a cabinet-wide dissolution.

Yet even in that extreme outcome, the constitutional mechanism is clear: the House of Representatives must reconvene and vote to select a new Prime Minister. PTP, which still holds the plurality of seats and commands over 250 votes, would almost certainly retain the initiative in nominating the next Prime Minister. Other parties may submit candidates as well, but the process remains within parliamentary bounds, not through political consensus or backroom deals for an "interim" leader.

In this light, PP’s suggestion that Anutin, who recently withdrew BJT from the coalition and bears political baggage from the Interior Ministry struggle, should lead a caretaker administration outside of a formal vote, comes off as naïve or strategically unserious. It effectively bypasses the very parliamentary process that PP claims to respect and risks legitimizing non-electoral power arrangements, precisely what PP has historically opposed.

PP’s default strategy, in line with constitutional norms, would be to propose its own Prime Ministerial candidate. However, this path is now invalidated by the Constitutional Court’s ruling that disqualified Pita from political office, leaving PP without a viable nominee. As a result, the party is left with only two imperfect options: to support a candidate from the opposition camp, possibly Anutin, or to defer to a nominee from Pheu Thai. This presents a clear strategic and institutional dilemma, neither of which offers a principled resolution. In such a context, the priority must shift from short-term maneuvering to reinforcing the stability of the parliamentary Westminster system itself.

Is the Coup Concern Justified? A Critical Examination

In the current Thai political discourse, the PP has leaned heavily on the specter of military intervention to justify its demand for an interim government, one that would bypass normal parliamentary procedures and install a neutral figure, notably BJT’s Anutin Charnvirakul, as caretaker prime minister. This maneuver, however, rests on a strategic foundation riddled with misreadings and institutional contradictions.

The evidence from both military analysts and grounded observers suggests that the likelihood of a coup in 2025 is negligible. One source offers the clearest structural and procedural breakdown: since the 2014 military-led government, Thailand’s armed forces have undergone a series of reforms specifically designed to prevent future coups. Key regiments historically used in power seizures, such as the 1st and 11th Infantry Regiments, have been transferred to the royal command. Heavy military equipment, like armored units, has been relocated from Bangkok to the provinces. Further, the command structure governing the use of military force now requires multiple layers of approval and written documentation, especially during peacetime or even amid border skirmishes. The armed forces, in this view, have already “defused the coup mechanism.”

Another strategic analyst adds that today’s Thai military is no longer structured as a disruptor of civilian governance, but rather as a deterrent actor focused on regional stability, especially amid rising tensions with Cambodia. The military operates within a national security framework dominated by the Internal Security Operations Command and the National Security Council, and while internal factions persist, the institutional alignment favors coordination, not confrontation. The true danger, in this analysis, lies in political overreaction and the misreading of strategic posture as a sign of latent militarism.

Against this backdrop, the PP’s argument collapses under its own logic. The fear of a coup is not anchored in observable military behavior or constitutional developments, but in a political strategy designed to short-circuit parliamentary succession. This becomes particularly evident when one considers the constitutional procedure in the event that Prime Minister Paethongtarn Shinawatra is permanently removed from office. In such a scenario, the law is clear: the House of Representatives must elect a new prime minister. Pheu Thai, holding the most seats, would remain the natural initiator of a new coalition, and other parties, including PP, could submit their own candidates for consideration.

Instead of participating in that formal process, PP has chosen to propose Anutin, a recently departed coalition partner and politically contested figure, as interim leader. This not only subverts the logic of parliamentary democracy, but also contradicts PP’s own positioning as a reformist party committed to transparent governance. If the situation truly warranted a caretaker arrangement, the correct path would be through House consensus or a motion for new elections, not unilateral declarations of vacuum and fear-mongering.

Thus, the claim that a coup is imminent, used to justify bypassing parliamentary channels, proves neither institutionally valid nor strategically sound. Both military behavior and structural reforms point in the opposite direction: toward a post-coup military disposition, committed more to coordination than confrontation. In this context, PP’s coup-centric rhetoric appears less as a genuine security assessment and more as tactical panic, wielded to justify an otherwise untenable political shortcut.

---

Note: We have revised portions of this essay to further clarify the strategic limitations facing the PP, particularly in light of its lack of a viable prime ministerial candidate. The updated analysis outlines the remaining options and the institutional implications each entails.