The word ‘amnesty’ has a controversial history in Thailand. In 2013, Yingluck Shinawatra’s government proposed an amnesty bill that critics feared could be interpreted broadly enough to cover former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who had been convicted in a corruption-related case. That experience made the term politically sensitive, and some parties became reluctant to call their proposals ‘amnesty bills’.

For me, political amnesty recognises that people may have committed offences while expressing their political views during periods of conflict and protest. It takes into account the circumstances in which those offences occurred instead of treating them as ordinary crimes. It removes particular legal consequences and allows society to move forward, without necessarily requiring people to admit guilt or ask for forgiveness.

By that standard, the amnesty in the Peaceful Society Promotion Act is very limited. As of August 2026, at least 293 people had been charged under Article 112 and over 2,000 prosecuted for political activities. Some charges have been dropped and some criminal records cleared, but those who have faced the most severe consequences are left out.

That’s why I don’t believe there’s a true commitment to reconciliation behind the law. I think it passed mainly because the draft was already on the agenda, so the government had to consider it.

Conservative and right-wing parties argue that many Thai people still revere the monarchy and that including Article 112 in the amnesty could trigger another political conflict. They point to the Constitution, which places the monarchy above politics. In their view, insulting the monarchy goes beyond politics and is a serious criminal offence.

Bhumjaithai’s position also reflects its efforts to present itself as strongly supportive of the monarchy. It has changed its logo from red and blue to entirely blue, a colour associated with royalty.

So despite concerns about the prosecution and detention of many people accused of lèse-majesté, parties chose to pass a law covering only the offences they could agree on. They left out Article 112, to be addressed at another time.

People jailed for lèse-majesté remain in prison. One of them is lawyer and human rights defender Arnon Nampa, who was first convicted in 2023 and has since been sentenced to over 31 years in prison in 11 cases, with three more awaiting verdicts.

Activists who fled the country still can’t return home to see their families, and children facing lèse-majesté charges must still stand trial.

The exclusion also has a chilling effect. The 2020 uprising established a new normal in Thai politics. People began to criticise royal power, including the King, in public, particularly at protests. This had never happened before. Until then, criticism had stayed largely online, sometimes under avatars. During the uprising, protesters publicly read out demands for monarchy reform. I never expected to hear something like that in an open public space. Now, by excluding lèse-majesté cases, the amnesty turns the clock back to before the 2020 uprising.

In 2021, iLaw and other civil society organisations attempted to collect signatures in support of a proposed amendment to the Criminal Code to abolish the lèse-majesté law, but their efforts faced obstruction. In 2024, we pursued an alternative approach by proposing the People’s Amnesty Bill to support those facing prosecution, detention and other severe consequences because of their political activism.

Some progressive scholars and other civil society groups have criticised this shift away from campaigning to abolish the lèse-majesté law as a step back. But it’s the same work by other means. We are also campaigning to repeal Order No. 41, a military order issued in 1976 that amended Article 112 and increased the penalty for lèse-majesté from a maximum of seven years’ imprisonment to between three and 15 years. It also increased penalties for other offences involving defamation and insults. Repealing it would restore the earlier penalties.

Whether Article 112 will change is difficult to tell. Conservative forces will continue to have influence, but Thai politics is unpredictable. The 2020 uprising is a good example. Nobody saw it coming, and although the movement was relatively short-lived, it changed what people could say in public. Everyday life has changed too. It used to be customary to stand when the royal anthem was played in cinemas. Now, some choose to remain seated.

So change does happen, sometimes on a very small scale, and it can take time. It depends on whether you live long enough to see it. I just hope that, if we continue our work, spread the word and keep the conversation going, we will eventually see meaningful progress.