LAWS AND LEGISLATION.
Recent years have witnessed great changes in the methods of governing
and judging the people. In nothing is the distinction between Old and
Young Siam so definitely marked. But it is the old order of things
that will chiefly concern us in this chapter, for the new order,
though indicative of great progress, has been carried out by Western
minds in imitation of Western methods, and it therefore presents
little which is of intrinsic interest to the student of foreign
customs. But as any account of the country's laws and legislation
would be incomplete without some mention of modern reforms, a brief
account of some of the most important of them is here given.
The King is theoretically an absolute monarch with power to control
the life and property of every one of his subjects. But he appointed
a Cabinet to assist him in carrying on the government of his country,
and it is very doubtful whether he would now care to exercise his
despotic authority to the full, should he by so doing incur the
combined opposition of the Cabinet he has created. There are twelve
ministers in this Cabinet, who hold portfolios and seats. They are
1. The Minister for Foreign Affairs.
2. The Minister for Finance, who is also Minister of Customs and
controls the various monopolies, gambling and opium farms.
3. The Minister for War, who controls both Army and Navy.
4. The Minister of Justice.
5. The Minister of the North, who has under his control the
administration of nearly all the provinces north of Bangkok.
6. The Minister of the South and West, who also directs the civil and
military _corvée_.
7. The Minister of the Royal Household.
8. The Minister of Public Works, including the railways, posts and
telegraphs, and all public buildings.
9. The Minister of Local Government, with control of prisons, police,
and police-courts in Bangkok. He combines the functions of a Lord
Mayor and a Home Secretary.
10. The Minister for Agriculture, who grants mining concessions,
superintends surveys, and looks after the land revenues.
11. The Minister of Public Instruction. Under him are placed the
hospitals, the museums, and a number of ecclesiastical establishments.
12. Privy Seal.
The Cabinet holds its business meetings at night. They begin about
eight o'clock and sit on through the cool dark hours of the night and
early morning. The king may or may not be present.
Last year an additional legislative body was established, under the
name of "The Legislative Council". The members of the Cabinet are
all members of the Legislative Council, but many others have been
added. They do not hold their meetings in secret, like the older
body, and they also call in outsiders, both foreign and native, when
they want professional advice on any matter. They have appointed a
number of sub-committees, of each of which some European servant of
the Government is a member. They are concerned with the reform of
old laws and the devising of new ones. One article in the decree
that appointed this Assembly is sufficient to show how the king has
gradually but voluntarily resigned the position of a pure despot.
Until the formation of this Council no law could pass into action,
and no reform or new law could even be initiated without the express
written sanction of the king. During recent years he has been at times
seriously ill for many weeks together. Naturally everything came to a
stand-still.
Now the new body of councillors has been specially requested to
introduce and discuss new laws and regulations, and it has been
further empowered to put into operation any law that it may pass,
without the authority of the king, provided he is not at the time
sufficiently well in health to attend to business. He, however,
reserves to himself the right to amend the law should he afterwards
think fit. Those who know anything of the present king will recognise
the wisdom of this arrangement, for he can always be depended upon not
to destroy but to stimulate everything which makes for the happiness
of his people.
Each province has at its head a Royal Commissioner who has extensive
powers, but who holds office at the pleasure of the king, though in
the first instance his appointment is generally for some definite
period. The Commissioners are not simply responsible for the good
government, or for the collection of the taxes in the district under
their charge, but they are intended to form connecting links between
the central and the outlying portions of the kingdom. For in faraway
provinces, powerful and enterprising chiefs occasionally find it
convenient to forget the fact that they are not independent monarchs.
The appointment of Royal Commissioners was very much resented by some
of the chiefs, especially by those who had previously reigned with
the title and dignity of sovereigns. Amongst these was the "King of
Luang Prabang," who had for many years governed the province of Luang
Prabang under the above title. It has been stated that this man is
the only man in the country, except the king, who can boast a purely
Siamese descent. Everyone else has some foreign blood in his veins. At
any rate, this so-called king belonged to one of the oldest families
in the land. When the new Commissioners were appointed, a very young
man was sent to take over the government of this province. On nearing
the scene of his new labours, he sent word to the old chief to tell
him of his arrival, and to demand a formal and elaborate reception
to be made for him, as a mark of respect to the sovereign whose
orders he had come to execute. The old man went himself to meet the
new arrival, indulging in a good deal of grumbling by the way, and
wondering why there was any necessity to make such a fuss. When he
found to what extent he was to be superseded in the government of
his ancient domain, his grief and anger knew no bounds, but as he
was powerless to resent he had to content himself with grumbling and
moaning. He rather pertinently asked why the young king had sent
a young man to control an old chief who had so long done his duty
faithfully and well. One day the Commissioner heard the deposed
governor addressed by the people, with the title of "king." He at once
forbade the repetition of the word, saying, "There is but one king
in Siam." The old man smarted not a little under what he considered
was a new insult, but he restrained any outward expression of his
feelings. Not long after this occurrence the Commissioner found that
the chief had in his possession a state umbrella with the number of
tiers used by royalty. He ordered two of these to be at once removed,
and his order was obeyed. The insulted chief got his revenge at last,
when the French took the province of Luang Prabang. M. Pavie, the
French Commissioner, and formerly French Minister in Bangkok, sent the
Siamese representative about his business, and invited the old chief
to an interview. When the chief arrived, M. Pavie asked him if there
was anything he wanted either for himself or his people. The old man
related his loss of dignity and title, and begged that he might be
allowed to repair his umbrella, and call himself "king" once more.
"Certainly," said M. Pavie, with diplomatic condescension, "call
yourself 'king' if you like, and as to the umbrella, add two tiers
or twenty, just as you please." The remade king was delighted, and
returned home exceedingly glad at heart at the complete restoration
of his royal name and furniture. The majority of the Commissioners,
as well as the chief members of the Cabinet and of the Legislative
Council are relatives of the king.
Siam possesses an excellent code of laws. They are, in the main, just
and well suited to the people for whom they were intended. There are
faulty laws amongst them, and there are a few that are barbarous or
cruel, but these, be it said to the credit of the present government,
are never enforced. The faults of Siam's legislative system do not lie
in the laws themselves, but in the administration of them. Bribery has
been the curse of every court throughout the country. Bribed judges
and perjured witnesses have hindered the operations of laws that would
have been powerful for good, and have converted what should have been
halls of justice into houses of oppression. The venial judge could be
publicly flogged, but when the other judges and the witnesses were
all also venial, no righteous accuser could be found. The system has
existed for so many years that the people have got accustomed to it,
and look upon bribery as a necessary and natural part of any legal
proceedings. The prolongation of the different lawsuits meant more
and more profit to the judge, and so adjournments were indulged in
_ad infinitum_. In this way thousands of cases have accumulated;
and up to a few months ago the condition of affairs was so bad that
the most just of judges might have been forgiven for preferring to
leave alone the legal dust and uncleanliness accumulated by his
predecessors. One of the most beneficial results that has followed
the appointment of the Legislative Council, has been an enquiry into
the character and causes of the defective administration of justice.
A party of Belgian lawyers, assisted by a few Siamese lawyers trained
for their profession in foreign countries, set to work to overhaul
the courts and cases. They cleared off the legal arrears at the rate
of scores each week. They found men who had been lying in gaol for
years, without trial, for some trivial offence. In many instances
the plaintiff who had originally entered the case was dead, or could
not be found. These unfortunate sufferers they released at once.
They discovered numerous examples of cruel or excessive sentences,
which they reduced or annulled. To prevent further accumulations they
assisted the native judges in trying all new cases as they came up day
by day, giving them in this way, many a valuable object lesson in the
administration of justice, though not without occasional hindrances
from the judges, and even from the litigants themselves. One day an
old woman went to one of the new foreign judges, crouched at his
feet, and sobbed out a bitter tale of cruel wrong. She was engaged
in some trivial lawsuit with a relative, and she alleged that she
could not get her rights because the judge was receiving bribes. "My
cousin," said she, "sends the judge presents of flowers and fruit, and
I know what is hidden in the basket." She dwelt on the enormity of
the offence and the suffering she endured thereby, and the foreigner
listened with great interest. At last he remarked, "Well, what do you
want me to do for you?" The woman, her eyes bright with hope, answered
him, "Next week the case is coming before you, and if you will only
pronounce a verdict in my favour, I too will make you a present of
fruit and flowers."
The laws of the country do not admit of being catalogued or described
in any brief manner, as they occupy seventy volumes of closely printed
Siamese, a mass of legal literature which it is obviously impossible
to condense for the purposes of this chapter.
There are two courts for the trial of criminal cases, and a number of
minor courts for the trial of civil cases in Bangkok. There is also an
International Court where the subjects of different nations attempt
to settle their differences with the natives. As far as Englishmen
are concerned, this court is practically useless; for owing to the
lackadaisical manner in which the affairs of Englishmen are dealt with
by the members of the British consulate, the native judges know full
well that they can always give their own countrymen every possible
benefit of the slightest doubt. A remark once made by a Siamese to
an English resident is only too true--"What good are your Consuls
and Ministers to you? If I bring a case against you in your court,
I shall win it, and if you bring a case against me in my court, I am
equally certain you will lose it."
There are provincial courts for dealing with minor offences in the
outlying districts, but the judges in these courts have no power to
sentence a man to death unless such power is directly given them by
the king himself.
The course of procedure in any court is simple but slow. The plaintiff
presents his case in writing. This is neatly copied by the clerks,
and then read to the complainant in order to see that no inaccuracy
occurs. If he signifies that the document so read, is a faithful
reproduction of the original, it is folded up and fastened with a
bit of wax or soft mud, on which he impresses his private seal, that
is, the mark of his thumb-nail. A synopsis of the plaint is sent to
the defendant, who makes his answer in writing, which is similarly
copied and sealed. A day for hearing the case is appointed, but the
litigants are called together before the day of trial, with a view
to settling the matter privately. If these efforts at conciliation
prove unfruitful, the depositions are read before subordinate judges,
who, after considering the case, make their award in writing. Their
written judgment is forwarded to the chief judge and he pronounces
the sentence. The chief judge has full powers, but an appeal to the
king is allowable. This privilege is more or less a dead letter, as
it would be practically impossible for a poor man to get his appeal
brought before the notice of his sovereign.
Very few of the courts have a legal aspect. The judge reclines at
one end of the room, on a mat placed on the floor. Under his arm is
a three-cornered pillow. He smokes, drinks tea, chews betel-nut,
and spits during the whole course of the trial, and his example is
followed by the policemen, witnesses, lawyers and spectators.
A long and terrible oath is administered to each witness. It runs
as follows: "I, ----, who have been brought here as an evidence in
this matter, do now in presence of the divine Buddha declare that I
am wholly unprejudiced against either party, and uninfluenced in any
way by the opinions or advice of others, and that no prospects of
pecuniary advantages or of advancement to office have been held out
to me. I also declare that I have not received any bribes on this
occasion. If what I have now spoken be false, or if in my further
averments I should colour or pervert the truth so as to lead the
judgment of others astray, may the three holy existences before whom
I now stand, together with the glorious Devattas of the twenty-two
firmaments, punish me.
"If I have not seen, yet shall say that I have seen--if I shall say
that I know that which I do not know, then may I be thus punished.
Should innumerable descents of the Deity happen for the salvation and
regeneration of mankind, may my erring and migrating soul be found
beyond the pale of their mercy. Wherever I go, may I be encompassed
by dangers and not escape from them, whether arising from murderers,
spirits of the ground, robbers, spirits of the forest, of the water,
of the air, or from all the angels, or from the gods of the four
elements and all other spirits. May blood flow out of every pore of
my body, that my crime may be made manifest to the world. May all
or any of these evils overtake me three days hence. Or may I never
stir from the place on which I now stand; or may the 'lash of the
sky'[F] cut me in twain, so that I may be exposed to the derision of
the people; or if I should be walking abroad, may I be torn in pieces
by either of the four preternaturally endowed lions, or destroyed by
poisonous herbs or venomous snakes. When in the waters of the river
or ocean may alligators and large fishes devour me; or may the winds
or waves overwhelm me; or may the dread of such evils keep me during
my life a prisoner at home, estranged from every pleasure; or may I
be afflicted by the intolerable oppressions of my superiors; or may
cholera cause my death, after which may I be precipitated into hell,
there to go through innumerable stages of torture; amongst which, may
I be condemned to carry water over the flaming regions, in open wicker
baskets, to assuage the heat felt by the judge of hell when he enters
the infernal courts of justice, and thereafter may I fall into the
lowest pit of hell. Or if these miseries should not ensue, may I after
death migrate into the body of a slave, and suffer all the hardships
and pain attending the worst state of such a being, during a period
of years measured by the sands of the four seas; or may I animate the
body of an animal or beast during five hundred generations; or endure
in the body of a deaf, blind, dumb, homeless beggar, every species of
loathsome disease during the same number of generations, and then may
I be hurried to the bottomless pit, there to be crucified by the king
of hell."[G]
The old code contains a list of persons who are not to be allowed
to give evidence. So many people must have been excluded from the
witness-box by the old regulations, that one wonders how they
ever could have obtained any evidence at all had they obeyed the
regulations completely. For instance, none of the following persons
could be called to give evidence:--Drunkards, opium-smokers, gamblers,
notorious vagabonds, goldsmiths, braziers, blacksmiths, shoe-makers,
executioners, beggars, potters, dancing women, women who had been
married three times, adulterers, clerks, orphans, players, jugglers,
acrobats, undutiful children, atheists, slaves, friends of either
party, enemies of either party, quacks, liars, and sorcerers. Physical
defects excluded unmarried or pregnant women, the blind, halt, deaf,
people above seventy years old and children under seven, dying people,
and persons suffering from any loathsome disease. Intellectual defects
prohibited the giving of evidence by those who could not read, could
not count up to ten, and who did not know the names of the eight
cardinal sins. On the other hand, this curious old code directed that
special attention should be given to the testimony of men of good
learning and of known good character.
It was sometimes considered necessary to make a supposed criminal
confess. To that end, provided he could not be persuaded by gentler
means, the prisoner received ninety lashes on his bare back, with
a rattan rod. Time was given for the cuts to heal, and then the
experiment was repeated. A time for healing again intervened and then
a third flogging settled the matter, for if the man did not confess
under the third application of the rod, he was considered innocent.
The fear of the punishment that awaited those who did not confess,
must often have caused many innocent persons to declare themselves
guilty. Flogging was not the only aid to confession. A modification of
the thumb-screw in the form of a split bamboo, was held to possess a
strong persuasive influence.
One or two very ancient customs still linger. Thus both plaintiff and
defendant are expected to provide bail when bail is demanded. And in
serious cases where bail is not given, the plaintiff has to go to
prison with the defendant until the case is tried. This regulation
doubtless often prevents false accusations being made, but it has its
severe side, as shown by the fact that a woman who had been plaintiff
in a case, was recently released from prison by the new judges, after
lying in confinement for over three years. The defendant, moreover,
had been allowed to go scot-free many months before.
Again, the relatives of a man are held security for his good
behaviour, and the inhabitants of any neighbourhood are liable to
fines and taxes if murders or suicides take place amongst them. These
laws if strictly enforced in a country where people rarely leave their
own neighbourhood, would render the detection of criminals a fairly
easy matter. They are sometimes enforced when it suits the authorities
to carry them out.
An incident that came under the personal knowledge of the writer will
perhaps illustrate in a general way some of the merits and demerits of
the native method of apprehending offenders. During the Franco-Siamese
trouble, the natives naturally felt rather unfriendly towards their
enemies, and not being able to distinguish between the subjects of one
foreign nation and another, they exhibited their displeasure towards
all white men alike. An Englishman who was in the Siamese Government
Service, was one afternoon taking a walk in the outskirts of the
city, accompanied by two ladies. Suddenly he felt a hard blow on the
ear, and at the same instant a brick went whizzing past with great
velocity. He turned round to see from where the missile came, only to
find a barefooted, half-naked native going down the road as fast as
he could run. He mentioned the matter the next day to the Minister
in charge of the department in which he was employed. His chief very
kindly reported the matter to the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who
promised that some attempt should be made to arrest the offender. A
policeman was sent to the place where the offence occurred, to make
enquiries. He promptly arrested the first loafer he saw, and accused
him of the offence. The man denied the charge, but said he could give
information as to the name and residence of the man who was wanted.
He then took the policeman to the house where the culprit lived. The
official went into the place and asked for the man. His relatives
professed complete ignorance as to his whereabouts. The policeman
then gave them a week in which to find him, and reminded them that if
the man were not found by that time he should be compelled to arrest
the whole family. Within a week they handed over the culprit. He was
taken before the judge and charged with assault. He confessed, and
was sentenced to imprisonment for a definite time. All this time the
complainant was not summoned to appear; he was not asked to identify
the man, or to prosecute in any way. In fact, he knew nothing at all
about it until he received a letter from the officials telling him
that his assailant was in jail, and that if he wanted to interview the
prisoner he would be permitted to do so.
Many minor offences are punished with flogging. The man's hands and
feet are loosely fastened to a bamboo framework, and he is then
thrashed on the bare back, with a rattan rod. Deserters from the army
are thus punished. But in all cases a timely bribe will lighten the
weight of the descending rod, the guilty man meanwhile not forgetting
to howl and groan his loudest, so that the official who superintends
the execution of the punishment may not discover the fraud. The late
king is reported to have been very fond of this method of punishment,
and to have ordered frequent chastisement of his chief officials in
his own presence whenever he had cause, or thought he had cause, to
be seriously offended with them.
The punishment for murder is death by decapitation. Those who are
reprieved through the mercy of the king, lose their titles, rank and
property, and are branded on the arm. They are then condemned to the
degrading office of cutting grass for the king's elephants. They are
not allowed to hire anyone to perform their duties for them, but are
obliged to do the work set them until death puts an end to their tasks.
The execution of the death penalty is an impressive if barbarous
ceremony. Such occasions are very rare, and constitute about the
only events that are not attended with merry-making. The laughing,
joking, merry-hearted native forgets for once to chatter and be glad.
The interior of a court, a palace, a gaol, or a temple exercises no
restraining influence upon the voluble tongues of the people. But in
the presence of the executioners a deathly silence falls upon the
whole of the spectators, which is all the more intense and real by
reason of its rare occurrence. At the break of day, near a lonely
temple on the banks of a lonely canal, some distance from the city
walls, the prisoner is led to the spot where he must pay for life with
life. His feet and wrists are firmly manacled, and the clink-clank,
clink-clank of the chains in the still morning air is the only sound
heard as the vermilion-robed executioners bring their victim forth.
Presently the sound of chanting arises, and the brethren of the yellow
robe intone the prayers for the dead. The man's neck is fastened to
a bundle of bamboos, but he realises very little of what is taking
place, for the executioners, with a merciful consideration worthy of
much imitation in other walks of life, have thrown their victim into a
state of stupor by means of a powerful drug. Into his ears they have
rammed plugs of soft clay or mud, so that in case the drug should
fail, the wretched creature shall not hear their steps when they come
behind him to deliver the fatal blow. The executioners next plead to
Buddha for forgiveness, for they are about to break the well-observed
law, "Thou shalt not kill." They plead the command of the king and
the requirements of justice, and prostrate themselves on the ground.
Their prayers over, a silent signal is given, the red-robed figure
comes silently and slowly along with a quaint dancing gait; he raises
his keen-edged blade on high, and with one sweep of the weapon severs
the head from the trunk. The head is set up on a pole as a warning to
those present; the feet and hands of the victim are hacked off; the
fetters collected, and the crowd disperses silently, with the ominous
croaking of many birds of prey impressing the meaning of the lesson
upon their mournful hearts.