Thailand's motorbike taxis: Enter the orange shirts

The capital’s crucial two-wheeled political class

Thailand's motorbike taxis

A street-level view of Thai society
IN A city of clogged streets, motorbike taxis are the essential lubricant. They weave through rush-hour traffic, mount pavements and roar down the labyrinthine alleys known as soi. They lurk in gangs on street corners, waiting to carry people or goods, or run errands. Some 200,000 drivers sporting orange jackets are reckoned to ply their trade in Bangkok.
The motorbike drivers are mad about politics, which in Thailand is colour-coded. The drivers are overwhelmingly “red” and loyal to a former prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra. Most hail from the pro-Thaksin north-east, and were in the thick of the action during last year’s rowdy red-shirt rallies. Motorbikes were the red-shirt cavalry, keeping tabs on the movements of state troops, who ended the protests with the loss of 91 lives.
This is an election year, and every vote counts. So the prime minister, Abhisit Vejjajiva, no red shirt he, has singled out motorbike taxis for attention under a new, pro-poor programme called the People’s Agenda. Along with millions of other informal workers, motorbike drivers will be eligible for social security, loans from state banks and other benefits. To drive the point home, Mr Abhisit posed with an orange-clad motorbike driver at the launch of the programme, which he described as a “New Year’s gift” to Thai people.

But access to credit and sick pay do not top the drivers’ agenda. More important, they say, is taking on the “influential people”, mostly corrupt cops, who extort money. Those who do not pay may not work, so almost everyone coughs up. “We don’t want a gift from the government,” says Wichart Chungchuen, a veteran driver. “We want to make sure that if we make 500 baht a day, it stays in our pocket.”
One reason why Mr Thaksin remains so popular is that he cracked down on the overlords. He also ensured that motorbike taxis were registered with city hall and that their drivers were issued with numbered jackets. After Mr Thaksin was ousted in a military coup in 2006, the extortionists returned to demand their cut. The registration system unravelled as drivers traded jackets or dropped out and others arrived with unregistered bikes. Some jackets ended up in the hands of the “influential people”, who rented them out or sold them on for up to 150,000 baht ($4,900).
Starting on February 15th all motorbike taxis began to be reregistered. This should make it easier to curb the pay-offs. But Mr Wichart is sceptical that the government means business. Whereas Mr Thaksin broke bread with drivers and listened to their gripes, an aloof Mr Abhisit merely sent his aides.
Last year Mr Wichart and other motorbike taxi drivers formed a trade union. Wary of being painted as red-shirt partisans, the union tries to steer a moderate path. Leaders insist that they are neither red nor yellow, the colour of the staunchly conservative rival movement. They are orange shirts, after their distinctive jackets.
Yet neutrality may prove a stretch in Thailand’s polarised politics. Drivers are keen observers, says Claudio Sopranzetti, a Harvard anthropologist studying the tribe. They slip between the cracks in society, flitting between rich and poor quarters, city and countryside. Better than anyone, they see Thailand’s inequalities.