Every morning, at her market stall in the Bangkok Noi district of the Thai capital, Jintana Rapsomruay rolls up dumplings to form a delicacy known for its resemblance to the eggs of a large lizard. The candy would have been created by a concubine of the first king of the Chakri dynasty, who remains in power to this day, 240 years later.
It is said that the 18th century monarch liked to eat the eggs of aquatic monitor lizards, but one day the concubine could not find these eggs, so she offered the king a pastry egg filled with sweet bean paste instead. The king, who had among his accomplishments the transfer of the Thai capital to its current location, liked it.
The candy is successful to this day, but Jintana barely earns enough to survive. Like millions of Thais struggling with the coronavirus pandemic, their income has halved.
That’s why Jintana, 60, says she doesn’t understand and is irritated by the time and attention given to the country’s discussion over whether the capital should be known internationally as “Bancoc,” the name given to the former riverside village where she lives. or “Krung Thep Maha Nakhon”.
“If I were the government, I would take care of my people first and fix the economy before messing with the name of the capital for political reasons,” he opined. “There are more important things to do.”
The formal name of the capital of Thailand has 168 letters. It is so long that it entered the Guinness Book: Krung Thep Maha Nakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit.
It is worth noting that none of these 168 Thai letters make up “Bancoc”.
The full name means City of Angels, Great City of Immortals, Magnificent City of Nine Gems (and so on). It comes from the Pali and Sanskrit liturgical languages used in Buddhist and Hindu texts.
In February, the Office of the Royal Society, the official guardian of the Thai language, issued a decree reinforcing its view that the capital should be known throughout the world as Krung Thep Maha Nakhon, rather than Bangkok.
The Royal Society’s decree was subtle, defining the formal name, for international purposes, as “Krung Thep Maha Nakhon (Bank)”, instead of what it was then: “Krung Thep Maha Nakhon; Bangkok”.
“The use of parentheses emphasizes the importance of the name that comes before them,” said Santi Phakidkham, deputy secretary general of the Office of the Royal Society.
The Thai cabinet, which is headed by Prime Minister Prayuth Chan-ocha, a former military commander and leader of the 2014 coup, approved the Royal Society’s decision and endorsed it with its own decree, legalizing Bangkok in parentheses.
The change from the semicolon to parentheses generated public dissatisfaction. But no one really objects to the name itself; among Thai-speaking people, the capital is universally known as Krung Thep, or by the initials “Kor Tor Mor”.
Instead, it was the way in which an elite clique made the change that bothered sections of the population, which seem less and less willing to accept decrees imposed by monarchical institutions and governed by traditions.
“Using Krung Thep instead of Bangkok is foolish, almost idiotic,” commented Thai historian Charnvit Kasetsiri, former dean of Thammasat University in Bangkok. “High-class Thais love to do this sort of thing, swapping common names, real Thai names, for these fancy names that mix Pali and Sanskrit.”
The government’s push to adopt what it sees as a nobler name for the capital comes amid broader efforts to update international nomenclatures, including President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s campaign to change Turkey’s name to Türkiye and another to spell the name of the capital of Ukraine as Kyiv instead of the Russian Kiev.
It also takes place in the midst of a global movement to overcome the legacy of colonialism, including in place names. But Thailand is the only country in Southeast Asia that has never been colonized, and the name Bangkok is not a relic of an empire.
At a time when so many people in their country are suffering the economic effects of the coronavirus pandemic, some Thais are questioning whether the official adoption of the name Krung Thep Maha Nakhon (Bank) is really one of the most pressing issues facing the government.
“I don’t want to comment further on the name of the capital because I don’t have good contacts,” said Jintana as he rolled out dough. “What I do know is that for these people, street vendors like me are not even human beings.”
The mass protest movement has stalled, but dissatisfaction with Prayuth’s government continues to simmer. Some critics of the coup that brought him to power fled abroad and turned up dead. Dozens of young protest leaders were arrested.
Lawsuits for defamation of the monarch have risen sharply, and last year a former public servant was sentenced to more than four decades in prison. Some protest leaders called for the monarchy to submit to the Constitution. They now collectively face hundreds of years in prison for lèse majesté, which criminalizes criticism of senior members of the royal family.
“People all over the country, not just young people, recognize the argument in favor of reforming the monarchy,” said Netiwit Chotiphatphaisal, elected president of the student body at Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. “It’s not a fringe cause, it’s mainstream.”
Netiwit lost his post in February when the university’s board determined he had ties to an event involving activists advocating monarchical reform.
Some Thais approve of the government adopting the longer name.
On a recent morning, Vichian Bunthawi, 88, a retired palace guard, was sitting cross-legged on a bench at the Bangkok Noi railway station. The capital should really be known around the world as Krung Thep Maha Nakhon, he opined, remembering how his primary school teacher used to write his full name on the blackboard.
“Krung Thep Maha Nakhon is the name of the capital,” he said. “That’s where the king lives.”
Whether Krung Thep Maha Nakhon or Bangkok, the fact is that the Thai capital has changed dramatically over time. Urban planners filled in the canals that were once the city’s transport arteries. Rice fields gave way to shopping malls and residential buildings.
In an alley at the back of a Buddhist temple in Bangkok Noi, Chana Ratsami still plays a Thai xylophone. His wife’s family, made up of palace servants, lived in Bangkok Noi for generations.
Now, according to him, most of the alley’s residents are migrants from the countryside.
“They don’t know the history of this place,” he said, saying that in the past the congested street at the end of the alley was a canal traversed by boats full of flowers and fruits. “I miss the old town, whatever its name.”
