Chai Boonthonglek

On the evening of 11 February 2015, the life of 61-year-old Chai Boonthonglek came to an abrupt and violent end. Two men, dressed as construction workers and wearing black masks had arrived at the door of Chai’s small shop in the farming community of Klong Sai Pattana in Surat Thani province, southern Thailand, claiming to want to buy beer. One of the men then pulled out a .357 pistol and shot Chai six times in the head and torso, in front of his daughter and six-month-old grandson.

Chai was originally from a small village in Chai Buri district in Surat Thani province, but he and his wife, Sa, had moved together to the Klong Sai Pattana community of the Southern Peasants Federation of Thailand (SPFT). The SPFT is a group of landless farmers who banded together in 2008 to fight for a community land title from the Thai government as well as to advocate for land reform and the equitable distribution of resources. Across Surat Thani Province, more than 6 500 acres of land have been divided into five SPFT communities.

Although agriculture represents just a small portion of Thailand’s economic output, more than a third of the country’s workers are employed as farmers. Yet many of the nearly 6 million farm households do not own the land they cultivate; some are tenant farmers who are deeply in debt. Several acts of legislation were supposed to rectify this, including the Land Reform Act of 1975, which established the Agricultural Land Reform Office (ALRO), whose purpose is to redistribute unused land for small-scale agriculture. While ALRO has distributed millions of hectares of land to low-income Thai families, tensions persist in local communities, particularly with palm oil companies who also hold claim to portions of the land.

Chai’s decision to join the SPFT was first one of economic necessity, as he and his wife did not have any land with which to support themselves and their children. Yet being a part of the SPFT came with plenty of risk, as these land rights activists have been opposed by owners of palm oil plantations, including a company owned by Singaporean and Malaysian businessmen. Chai’s wife recalled the 61-year-old’s defiance: ‘He used to say, “If I die, I will just die; I don’t care.”’

Both Chai and Sa knew of the influence that internationally owned palm oil companies had over their community. Locally, these companies are thought to be behind acts of harassment carried out by local influencers, which are a combination of allegedly connected local officials and hired local mafia. SPFT villagers describe a web of criminality and corruption involving local officials, police, and palm oil companies, all of whom, it is thought, would prefer that the Klong Sai Pattana community be removed and the lucrative harvest of palm fruit continue unabated.

SPFT members suggest that internationally owned companies also have extensive connections in surrounding communities, with many alleging that bribes are paid to local officials and mafia to maintain the status quo.

In the seemingly shady nexus between palm oil companies, local politicians and the local influencers who do their bidding, the main objective is control of the land. But when palm oil companies lose their concession over the land, controlling the palm fruit harvest becomes of paramount interest. In other instances in which companies surrender their control over agricultural land, local managers illegally sell land plots to other companies or local businessmen. Although local farmers complain about this practice, no action is taken by government authorities. Criminal elements are often loosely connected but locally controlled by politicians or village headmen who are in charge of the palm fruit pickers and bribe local government officials to allow companies to retain the land.