If you're looking for a brief diversion, try an Internet search for "Thailand" and "mess." You will find that particular descriptor lobbed at Thailand by investment banking types, a teenager blogger, someone on a reality TV show, The Economist ("A right royal mess" in January 2013, followed by "Another fine mess" in December) and, most famously, by the king of Thailand himself. In 2006, monarch King Bhumibol Adulyadej called the country a "mess" and warned that if its power structures – at that point, the courts – couldn't get along, "the country would collapse."
Thailand hasn't gotten any less messy since. In fact, with each of its pillars of power now either weakened or indelibly tainted, it is arguably in a greater mess that at any point in recent history, a situation that is both a concern to an outside world in love with Thai beaches, and to Thais rightfully frightened that even more blood will spill on their streets.
Thailand's latest political jumble, now some six months old, has so badly contorted the country that it once more uncomfortably faces the prospect of political collapse. Its economy, now in recession, is already headed downward. Its prime minister, Yingluck Shinawatra, has been booted from office by the courts, and may be evicted from politics for a half-decade.
And now anti-government protesters have taken over Government House, in a bid to physically occupy the country's seats of power. The strategy seems to be: sit your backside on the right cushion, and people will listen when you talk.
It's not clear it will work.
"They're confusing taking over a building that is symbolic of legitimate political power, and thinking that just because you take over the building and have meetings there that somehow you gain effective legitimacy," said David Streckfuss, an academic based in north-eastern Thailand.
"But this isn't like feudal Europe, where you capture the hill."
The problem for Thailand is it's not particularly like any of the states that succeeded feudal Europe, either. Indeed, each of its major power structures is now either so tainted, or so potentially frail, that it is difficult to see any clear path forward. Take the option any modern democracy uses to resolve an impasse: a vote. The anti-government protesters – once called the Yellow Shirts, now the "Whistleblowers" – have actively sought to undermine elections, boycotting the most recent one and saying they want to hold off the next ballot until some reforms can be made.
Their efforts have worked – the Feb. 2 election was annulled by the courts, and calls for another July election seem unlikely to produce a better result. So ballots are a questionably effective way to solve the problem.
The monarchy, too, is weakened. King Bhumibol, who is 86, has appeared increasingly frail. Even if his death is not imminent, he is no longer a robust leader. Behind him is a Crown Prince whose playboy ways have made him a repugnant figure among many Thais. (And under it all is a population unable to discuss any of it, thanks to what have been called the strictest lèse-majesté laws anywhere on earth in two centuries.)
The courts, acting according to overly-strict anti-corruption rules that allow them to levy heavy penalties for even minor political peccadilloes, have diminished credibility, too, particularly as they are seen to act in concert with anti-government forces. In 2008, the courts booted out a prime minister for the crime of appearing on a cooking show, which was found to be a conflict of interest. The decision to boot Ms. Yingluck, meanwhile, was a flimsy one, "driven by suspicion, not by law or facts," according to Verapat Pariyawong, a Harvard-trained Thai lawyer. He warned that the consequences are serious: "to be realistic, once the rule of law in the chamber is gone, all that is left is probably violence on the street. And that would pave ways for military intervention."
But even the military, often Thailand's stabilizing force of last resort, faces worries about its ability to act decisively. It has, so far, been reluctant to enter the fray, which some have seen as a sign of strength. Mr. Streckfuss sees it differently. "I don't think the military is confident that it has unity within its ranks," he said. He paints a scenario of commanders in Bangkok giving a command to move, and regiments in north-eastern parts of the country – the "Red Shirts" area, where support for Ms. Yingluck is strong – handing over their arms to the Red Shirts themselves.
In some ways, none of it matters. The potholes on Thai streets are still being filled, its hospitals are still running. The country in many ways is doing just fine with the political mess it's in – in part because there's nothing particularly new about it. Messy is situation normal.
Still, at some point a country needs a functioning government. The question for Thailand is how it gets one.
"I don't see the end of this, except for one side gets tired? It's a war of attrition, very slow attrition," Mr. Streckfuss said. But he admitted that it's hard to know. "If you figure out anything about Thailand, do send word," he said.
Nathan VanderKlippe