ABSTRACT
Early in the morning of 21 March 2006, Bangkok’s revered Brahma image (the Thao Maha Phrom) in the city’s famed Erawan Shrine was smashed to pieces by a mentally disturbed Muslim man. Reactions to this incident, as reported by the Thai news media, exposed the many interacting levels of the symbolic economy of sacred monuments in contemporary Thailand and its neighbouring region. Within minutes of the event, the culprit was beaten to death by a group of angry onlookers and street cleaners, highlighting the immediate popular outrage unleashed by the desecration of an image widely deemed to be possessed of supernatural potency. Also highlighted by press interviews were the livelihoods of some fifty flower and food vendors who depended on the shrine for their income. As with all religious shrines for centuries, this one, located at a busy city intersection, fulfilled a pragmatic business function. The Erawan Shrine had spawned a durable micro-economy of small traders since it had been founded in 1956 in an effort to ward off bad luck during the construction of the adjacent Erawan Hotel (Askew 2003). But just as prominent in reportage were the responses of officials, extending to the highest level of Thailand’s Prime Minister, Thaksin Shinawatra, who declared that the task of restoring the Thao Maha Phrom image was of national priority. This was a delicate period for Thaksin: with his popularity – and that of his ruling Thai Rak Thai (Thais Love Thais) Party – waning in the national capital, Thaksin needed to affirm his belief in the Erawan image’s potency and its importance to the well being of the people in order to bolster his leadership image. Yet the image was important not only to Thai Buddhists, but to a broader regional population of worshippers. Bangkok’s Thao Maha Phrom has attracted considerable patronage among Chinese visitors from Hong Kong, Japan,
Malaysia, Singapore and Taiwan who visit the image to beseech blessings, good health, good luck and winning lottery numbers. Dubbed by Malaysian and Singaporean Chinese under the mistaken name of the ‘Four-faced Buddha’, the Brahma image and its shrine are one of numerous sites in Thailand deemed by them to be especially potent, and some visitors travel to Thailand with the specific object of asking favours of this image or thanking it for good luck received. The critical international signific ance of the image was highlighted by the Deputy Prime Minister, who intoned that the shrine was widely revered not only by Thai people but those from neighbouring countries in the region: ‘Many countries have contacted us to express their sorrow over the incident. That’s why we need to rebuild the statue as quickly as possible’ (Anjira 2006; Chatrarat 2006). The substantial tourist income represented by these countryies’ tourists was tactfully camouflaged in this statement. Just two months later a new image (of metal, not plaster, as originally) was installed in an atmosphere of general jubilation marked by a hybrid inauguration ritual featuring Brahmin priests and Chinese lion dancers. Thaksin (now caretaker Prime Minister since the invalidation of the April national election) was prominent in an audience of over one thousand, which included many elderly Thai people wearing the customary white robes of Brahmin worshippers, despite their predominantly Theravada Buddhist faith. Journalists reported that many in the gathering jotted down the license plate number of the car carrying the statue, hoping for a winning number in the next lottery draw (Bangkok Post, 21 May 2006).
