half were released, but Kittipong was held without bail. His case went to court in May. He shares a packed cell with seven other prisoners, some accused of murder and drug trafficking.
Kongchai blames himself. He pulled Kittipong out of school when he was 15 to join an early wave of pro-Thaksin rallies. In December, local red-shirt leaders brought supplies to his village, including blankets and food. A nearby village had branded itself a 'Red Shirt Village' with a red sign.
He liked the idea. The movement was in disarray. This was a way to change that, he said.
"In the beginning, it was 20-30 people talking half-jokingly about this idea over lunch. We weren't going to do anything organised. But then the idea caught on."
The authorities are watching closely. "Officers will drive by, peek in, take pictures, ask our neighbours whether I have gone to Bangkok. They follow me," Kongchai said.
Since April, they've had new visitors: soldiers from a military unit responsible for national security issues that went after Communists in the 1970s. The soldiers, who are well known in northeast, have offered to renovate the poorest house in Kongchai village -- a hut with a thatched roof. "They always ask for something in exchange," said his wife, Kamsan.
On some visits, the soldiers bring framed portraits of the king as gifts to hang in homes. The villagers find it hard to refuse. In Kongchai's home, the king's picture hangs on a wall next to a poster of Buddhist monks. But a far bigger, life-sized picture of Thaksin is draped along another wall.
Soldiers have asked leaders in the red villages to take down the signs and red flags but the villages have not complied, said an official with Thailand's Internal Security Operations Command in Udon Thani. The signs breached laws forbidding placement of public billboards without official permission, but the villages would not be forced to take them down, he said.
VIEW OF THE MONARCHY
As Thailand's polarisation deepens, views of the monarchy have changed, part of a broader cultural shift in the largely Buddhist country where the king has been revered as almost divine for three generations.
Most still express steadfast loyalty to the king, the world's longest-serving monarch, but his throne is seen as entwined with the political forces that removed Thaksin, especially ultra-nationalists who wear the king's colour of yellow at protests.
Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn has yet to command the same popular support as his father, raising questions over whether royal succession will go smoothly.
Long-simmering business, political and military rivalries are rising to the surface, forcing Thailand to choose sides between supporters of the Bangkok establishment or those seeking to upend the status quo.
For others such as Kongchai, being "red" is a much more simple equation, boiling down to sheer double standards and economics.
His son is one of at least 417 people detained in connection with violating an emergency decree during last year's red-shirt protests, according to Human Rights Watch. But none of the thousands of yellow-shirted supporters of the establishment -- who occupied two airports in Bangkok in 2008 for eight days in a campaign to bring down a Thaksin-proxy government -- have been arrested, and Thailand's army did nothing to prevent the airport siege.
"I am still a red shirt because there is still no justice for my son," he said. (Editing by Bill Tarrant)
half were released, but Kittipong was held without bail. His case went to court in May. He shares a packed cell with seven other prisoners, some accused of murder and drug trafficking.
Kongchai blames himself. He pulled Kittipong out of school when he was 15 to join an early wave of pro-Thaksin rallies. In December, local red-shirt leaders brought supplies to his village, including blankets and food. A nearby village had branded itself a 'Red Shirt Village' with a red sign.
He liked the idea. The movement was in disarray. This was a way to change that, he said.
"In the beginning, it was 20-30 people talking half-jokingly about this idea over lunch. We weren't going to do anything organised. But then the idea caught on."
The authorities are watching closely. "Officers will drive by, peek in, take pictures, ask our neighbours whether I have gone to Bangkok. They follow me," Kongchai said.
Since April, they've had new visitors: soldiers from a military unit responsible for national security issues that went after Communists in the 1970s. The soldiers, who are well known in northeast, have offered to renovate the poorest house in Kongchai village -- a hut with a thatched roof. "They always ask for something in exchange," said his wife, Kamsan.
On some visits, the soldiers bring framed portraits of the king as gifts to hang in homes. The villagers find it hard to refuse. In Kongchai's home, the king's picture hangs on a wall next to a poster of Buddhist monks. But a far bigger, life-sized picture of Thaksin is draped along another wall.
Soldiers have asked leaders in the red villages to take down the signs and red flags but the villages have not complied, said an official with Thailand's Internal Security Operations Command in Udon Thani. The signs breached laws forbidding placement of public billboards without official permission, but the villages would not be forced to take them down, he said.
VIEW OF THE MONARCHY
As Thailand's polarisation deepens, views of the monarchy have changed, part of a broader cultural shift in the largely Buddhist country where the king has been revered as almost divine for three generations.
Most still express steadfast loyalty to the king, the world's longest-serving monarch, but his throne is seen as entwined with the political forces that removed Thaksin, especially ultra-nationalists who wear the king's colour of yellow at protests.
Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn has yet to command the same popular support as his father, raising questions over whether royal succession will go smoothly.
Long-simmering business, political and military rivalries are rising to the surface, forcing Thailand to choose sides between supporters of the Bangkok establishment or those seeking to upend the status quo.
For others such as Kongchai, being "red" is a much more simple equation, boiling down to sheer double standards and economics.
His son is one of at least 417 people detained in connection with violating an emergency decree during last year's red-shirt protests, according to Human Rights Watch. But none of the thousands of yellow-shirted supporters of the establishment -- who occupied two airports in Bangkok in 2008 for eight days in a campaign to bring down a Thaksin-proxy government -- have been arrested, and Thailand's army did nothing to prevent the airport siege.
"I am still a red shirt because there is still no justice for my son," he said. (Editing by Bill Tarrant)
half were released, but Kittipong was held without bail. His case went to court in May. He shares a packed cell with seven other prisoners, some accused of murder and drug trafficking.
Kongchai blames himself. He pulled Kittipong out of school when he was 15 to join an early wave of pro-Thaksin rallies. In December, local red-shirt leaders brought supplies to his village, including blankets and food. A nearby village had branded itself a 'Red Shirt Village' with a red sign.
He liked the idea. The movement was in disarray. This was a way to change that, he said.
"In the beginning, it was 20-30 people talking half-jokingly about this idea over lunch. We weren't going to do anything organised. But then the idea caught on."
The authorities are watching closely. "Officers will drive by, peek in, take pictures, ask our neighbours whether I have gone to Bangkok. They follow me," Kongchai said.
Since April, they've had new visitors: soldiers from a military unit responsible for national security issues that went after Communists in the 1970s. The soldiers, who are well known in northeast, have offered to renovate the poorest house in Kongchai village -- a hut with a thatched roof. "They always ask for something in exchange," said his wife, Kamsan.
On some visits, the soldiers bring framed portraits of the king as gifts to hang in homes. The villagers find it hard to refuse. In Kongchai's home, the king's picture hangs on a wall next to a poster of Buddhist monks. But a far bigger, life-sized picture of Thaksin is draped along another wall.
Soldiers have asked leaders in the red villages to take down the signs and red flags but the villages have not complied, said an official with Thailand's Internal Security Operations Command in Udon Thani. The signs breached laws forbidding placement of public billboards without official permission, but the villages would not be forced to take them down, he said.
VIEW OF THE MONARCHY
As Thailand's polarisation deepens, views of the monarchy have changed, part of a broader cultural shift in the largely Buddhist country where the king has been revered as almost divine for three generations.
Most still express steadfast loyalty to the king, the world's longest-serving monarch, but his throne is seen as entwined with the political forces that removed Thaksin, especially ultra-nationalists who wear the king's colour of yellow at protests.
Crown Prince Maha Vajiralongkorn has yet to command the same popular support as his father, raising questions over whether royal succession will go smoothly.
Long-simmering business, political and military rivalries are rising to the surface, forcing Thailand to choose sides between supporters of the Bangkok establishment or those seeking to upend the status quo.
For others such as Kongchai, being "red" is a much more simple equation, boiling down to sheer double standards and economics.
His son is one of at least 417 people detained in connection with violating an emergency decree during last year's red-shirt protests, according to Human Rights Watch. But none of the thousands of yellow-shirted supporters of the establishment -- who occupied two airports in Bangkok in 2008 for eight days in a campaign to bring down a Thaksin-proxy government -- have been arrested, and Thailand's army did nothing to prevent the airport siege.
"I am still a red shirt because there is still no justice for my son," he said. (Editing by Bill Tarrant)
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