A Secret History of the Bangkok Hilton (5 page)

Early on the morning of December 12, 2003, eight of my fellow monks, who also had worked as prison guards, and I decided to perform a well-wishing ritual for the souls of executed prisoners at Bang Preak Tai Buddhist Temple, which shares a wall with Bang Kwang. We thought it would be a good idea since we were leaving the temple in few days to resume our jobs at Bang Kwang. Little did we know the first lethal injection in Thailand would be administrated that afternoon.

That day marked a new chapter for the death penalty in Thailand. The Department of Corrections ordered Bang Kwang Central Prison to carry out an order to execute four men. Three of them were drug offenders and the other one had committed premeditated murder. At that time, there were about 6,700 inmates in Bang Kwang, 851 of them on death row and shackled.

A guard on duty that day told to me later what had happened.

‘By 3pm, we had already overseen food being given to them and asked them to return to their cells,’ he said. ‘It was earlier than usual and this made them realise what was about to happen. Many of them lost their appetites. After the last of them was returned to his cell, we locked them in. We closed the main door of the building but didn’t lock it and this confirmed to them that at least one of them would walk out that door and never return.

‘The usual sound of them chatting and playing around was replaced by silence. About 4pm, the main door opened and revealed 12 prisoner escorts in black vests standing at the doorway. Three escorts per convict [is standard], so, it was four convicts to be put to death that day. I led the escorts to the cells where the four men were to be collected. We made it brisk. Four names were called and they obediently walked out of their cells. Some answered loud and clear showing readiness to “go”. Perhaps, they took comfort in knowing that they would suffer less than those who had preceded them.’

The prisoners and their relatives didn’t have time to
tham jai
(prepare mentally) before the execution. No one knew it was going to happen as it was kept secret from everyone. Other prisoners on death row have to live with the fear that every day may be their last day.

They were escorted to an office where more officials waited for them and were informed that their petitions for royal pardon from the king had been rejected. They signed their names to acknowledge their respective execution orders. Police from the Criminal Records Division and the prison’s records officer verified photographs and fingerprints of the four men before they were allowed to write their wills and letters.

Panom Changthonglek, at 32 the youngest of them, made a long distance phone call to his mother who lived in a southern province. She wasn’t home so he left a message with his sister.

‘Please tell
Mae
that I’m being executed today,’ he said before he put down the phone. Executions are carried out without prior warning to prevent convicts from committing suicide or harming themselves in an attempt to have the execution postponed.

They were offered a big last meal, which included some of the best-known Thai delicacies such as green curry and coconut soup with chicken. They didn’t touch the food but asked for water and cigarettes instead. They listened to a last sermon from a monk at the visiting area before being transported on golf cars to a gazebo where they were blindfolded. There they performed rituals to ask for forgiveness.

In the execution room, two of them at a time were asked to lie down on separate beds. A heart rate monitor, showing their vital signs, faced the officers who were there to act as witnesses. Each was restrained at five points—legs, torso and arms—and stabbed with needles in the veins on the backs of both hands. Only one needle was connected to a long tube. The other needle is there in case the first doesn’t work. Three executioners were waiting to release three chemicals at the other end of the tubes in a separate room.

Sodium pentothal was sent in first to sedate them. Pancuronium bromide was sent in next to relax their muscles. Potassium chloride was the last to go in to stop their hearts. The cost of the three chemicals used on each of them was only about 200 baht. The prison doctor was there to confirm their deaths and announce the time of death. The executions transpired without a hitch. Their bodies were kept in cold storage at minus 18 Celsius until the next morning when the prison doctor checked to confirm they were dead. Then the corpses were taken to Bang Preak Tai Temple through a small door the guards call the ‘ghost door’.

After I retired, I had a feeling that more execution orders would be coming to Bang Kwang because drugs are rife in Thailand. That premonition came true when lethal injections were administered almost six years later to two drug offenders on August 24, 2009. They had been found to be in possession of more than 110,000 amphetamine tablets with intent to sell them. Their assets, which amounted to 73 items worth about 41 million baht, were confiscated.

Although it is well known that the death penalty can be imposed for drug offences here, it seems drug dealers are not deterred. Arrests of major dealers feature regularly on the front pages of Thai newspapers. Some of them have connections with local dealers while some sell their wares to foreigners at tourist islands. They take their chances because they know that if they can get away with it, they will make the type of money could never get from working in honest jobs. No money can make up for a lifetime lost in prison, however.

Drugs have ravaged our society. They destroy the addicts, who commit crimes to get the money to buy more, and those who are close to them. Hallucinating addicts have held innocent people hostage with knives to their throats.

I think the death penalty will be in effect in Thailand for years to come. The notion that the introduction of lethal injection will serve as a stepping stone towards the abolition of death penalty is patently untrue, at least for now.

Chapter 4

Prison Visitors

Bang Kwang prison is not a place for anyone with no real business there. The officials have their hands full as it is a seriously over-crowded and under-resourced facility, holding some of Thailand’s most dangerous men. Yet posters on Khao San Road advertising prison visits have made it an alternative ‘must-see’ destination for many western tourists, particularly young back-packers. It has now become part of the standard itinerary for a lot of visitors to Thailand. I can’t help but think that some drop into the prison simply in search of cheap thrills and so they can show their friends at home how adventurous they are by going into the Big Tiger.

Although I have no doubt that most of the western inmates in Bang Kwang appreciate visitors from abroad, the motives behind the visits of these drop-in tourists have to be questioned. Putting it on a tourist map creates problems. It’s against regulations to allow drop-in visitors who know the inmates simply from posters. I’m sure no self-respecting guidebook in a western country would include an active high-security prison as an attraction.

In a way, inmates are the forgotten underprivileged people. Many of the Asian prisoners come from poor backgrounds and are cut off by their families when they get into trouble. Foreign inmates are locked away in alien land. On top of that, the prison runs on an inadequate budget, which is why there are many businesses, honest or not, inside.

The conventional thought here is that inmates do not deserve help, and some prison guards assume female visitors are lonely souls who cannot get male attention on the outside and have to look for it in a prison. Yet some Thai people can look past that and give up their time to assist needy convicts. There are also a number of expatriates living in Thailand who visit inmates regularly. They really want to help them and to improve their living conditions and have more than proved themselves to the Thai authorities. The irony is that the much-feared Bang Kwang prison is where I have met the best kind of people as well as the worst.

One group of prison visitors calls itself Jailbird. The founding members were volunteers appointed by the British Embassy in Bangkok and most of them are from the British Women’s Group. Although it is not a nice nickname, they don’t mind as they jokingly refer to themselves as old birds anyway. One such visitor, Gale Bailey, has become a good friend and we share a mutual love of the Beatles and have been out to see a Beatles tribute band. She is a visitor with single agenda: to help others.

She says: ‘It is hard to imagine how one could build friendship with an inmate, isn’t it? It took me only one visit and I was hooked. Despite the unpleasant circumstances, we are simply good friends: the chaps, their families and us visitors. I enjoy talking to the chaps as they do to me. There is no mention of age differences nor is there any sexual aspect to our meetings at all. We air our problems to each other and have good laugh together just like friends anywhere do.

‘My husband jokes that they are a captive audience who can’t go anywhere so they have to deal with me. It proves that you can build friendships through honest conversation, even if you have to do it with Plexi-glass and bars between you and the other person.’

Gale is a British lady in her early sixties who moved to Thailand with her husband and children in 1997 when his company posted him in Bangkok. Initially, she became involved in helping out at a rural school, which her husband’s company sponsored. Although the Thai school was in the middle of nowhere, it was relatively clean and well equipped with basic facilities and equipment. The pupils, however, came from impoverished households and had neither proper shoes nor uniforms, she says. Gale was touched by the children’s enthusiasm.

She said: ‘I had tears in my eyes, seeing how happy the kids were to see us and how appreciative they seemed to be to receive small gifts we had prepared for them. Each of them received a goody bag of crisps, a book and a pencil. Afterwards, they were in for a treat of ice-cream as well. Back in the UK, had I given a child the same gift bag they would probably have said, “Is that all?” It was very humbling to see these children appreciate the little kindness so much. I’ve been to many schools since then to make donations, do activities with the students or host parties for them.’

Through a network of friends at the British Women’s Group in Bangkok and the British Community in Thailand Foundation for the Needy, Gale started to participate in other volunteer work, including spring cleaning at the Aids hospice in the slum of Klong Toey. Later another British woman who had been visiting prisoners on death row at the Bangkok Hilton asked Gale and her friend Katherine Biggs to accompany her to the prison. She was about to leave Thailand and wanted someone to carry on this duty. Gale agreed immediately. Her first visit proved an eye-opener.

She said: ‘We visited three inmates, two of whom were on death row. The men came to see us with shackles on their ankles. It was very daunting to see them in that state as I had never seen anybody being treated like that before. We didn’t ask too much but obviously were interested in how they had ended up in a place like this. They were all in there for drug offences.

‘We left the prison feeling quite emotional. Katherine turned to me and said, “We’ll have to come here again, won’t we?” I said yes and I’ve come here for four years now. My attitude is that, no matter what they are now, they are somebody’s son or brother or uncle. I can sympathise as a mother because—God forbid—if it were my son being incarcerated 6,000 miles away from home, it would mean a lot to me if there were someone on the other end to check up on his wellbeing and send me an email, telling me he is all right and that he sends his love.’

During her first visits, Gale noticed the so-called ‘banana visitors’ who go into the prison simply to satisfy their curiosity.

‘Sadly, some young tourists just want to come to Bang Kwang and gawk. They come here so they can brag about the experience later to their friends back home. Some even made promises to keep in touch with the inmates they visited but they didn’t. On the other hand, some who came as tourists ended up building long-term friendships with the inmates.

‘In general, I think these visits benefit both the tourists and the inmates. The inmates remind them of their freedom and choices they could make in their lives. Obviously, the tourists can learn from their mistakes and be warned of what could happen during their stay.’

When people approach Gale and asked her what it is like to visit the Bangkok Hilton, she invites them to see for themselves. It is not everyone’s cup of tea, however, and for some one visit is enough.

‘Mostly I pass messages between the chaps and their families. Sometimes the families give me money to get things that their sons need. Being a messenger doesn’t sound much but I live here so I can speed up the communication between them. I can send an email from a chap to his family and get a reply for him within a week. If they use letters, it could be at least three weeks in turnaround time. The families said it makes all the difference for them knowing that there is somebody who is on the outside to check that their sons or brothers are all right.

‘When I’m back in England, I visit some of the families if they don’t live too far from where I am. Other families call me while I’m there as well. They don’t phone me while I’m here because of the difference in time. We communicate mainly via email since it costs next to nothing. When the families visit Bangkok we always meet up and I take photographs of the families and send them to the chaps as well.’

Gale’s help isn’t limited to British inmates.

‘I met some Hong Kong Chinese and British nationals [overseas]. One of the British guys was friendly with a Burmese inmate. It was after Nagris [a cyclone that caused hundreds of thousands of fatalities in Burma in 2008] when he asked me to ring this Burmese chap’s brother to find out if his family was safe and I have been in contact with his brother since.

‘We chipped in to buy a wheelchair for a Hong Kong man who had no support after having a stroke. I used to send in some toiletries to the chaps, knowing they would distribute them to Thai or Cambodian inmates who don’t have any support. It is just a little gesture when we think about it in normal circumstances but a small bottle of shampoo or shower gel could make an inmate feel really clean for the first time in a long while. Our guys help those who are less fortunate than they are as well.’

In one case, a Malaysian inmate who had become a valued staff member at the hospital, got a Burmese prisoner transferred from his building to the prison hospital, with help from the prison’s chief doctor. The Burmese man had shown signs of mental illness following rapes and assaults by other inmates. Staying at the hospital meant he was out of his abusers’ reach and could receive some basic treatment. Later a church group in the prison hospital, headed by a Thai inmate, took him under its wing.

Some inmates try to help the less fortunate ones. I guess these are the few who do get some rehabilitation. Some Asian inmates form friendships with the farang (foreign) ones. They know they have a better chance of surviving in Bang Kwang if they stick to their white friends as they have contact with outsiders. So they wash their clothes and do errands for them.

I asked Gale if any inmate she visited had ever confided in her about their experiences inside the Bangkok Hilton. To my surprise, she said so far none of them had told her any horrific stories and it was unlikely that they were subjected to any abuse since they are westerners and are treated better than other nationalities such as Thai, Cambodian or Burmese.

She said: ‘From what I’ve heard from the chaps, it’s more frustration than anything else that they have to deal with. Thing such as requests for medical treatment don’t happen quickly or even at all—even after they go through the red tape. Communication with the Thai authorities sometimes gets lost in translation. Sometimes they just give up because it is too much of hassle to get even one request.’

Gale offered a rather amusing story instead.

‘A chap told me that he had been watching
Psycho
one night and he couldn’t sleep afterwards. I said, “Are you kidding? It was only a film but you live among murderers, rapists and the likes.” I found it funny for him to be so scared of a film but he didn’t seem to realise what a grim reality he was in. But I suppose the inmates, be they westerners or Asians, form some kind of comradeship and they forget the reason why the others are in there. He and I had a big laugh before he said, “For God’s sake, Gale, if I thought like that, I would never sleep a wink.” It is scary to think that you have to sleep next to a person who has knifed or shot someone, isn’t it?’

Given the harsh conditions inside Thai prisons, I assumed the foreign inmates would prefer to be sent back to their own countries where prison life would be more tolerable if possible. A British inmate has to serve four years in a Thai jail before he becomes eligible for transfer under the bilateral prisoner transfer agreement. The process can take about a year to complete. Transferred inmates have to serve half of the remaining Thai sentence in a British prison before they become eligible for a parole under UK law. The surprise is that some British inmates don’t want to be transferred back home, says Gale.

‘Some chaps told me that the prisoner transfer treaty between Thailand and UK is a problem for them. I was told that prisoners from other western countries are freed much sooner than the British are after their transfers. Say a British person is given 30 years by a Thai court, he will have to serve at least four years here before he can serve half of the remaining time in a UK prison. There he will be subject to British law, which means he will be entitled to parole after serving half of his sentence or six years and six months. Altogether, he will serve at least 10 years and six months, even though he wouldn’t get such a harsh sentence for killing his own child in the UK.’

Gale’s comparison between sentences given for drug smuggling in Thailand and sentences given to the ‘baby killers’ struck a chord with me and, on further research, I read several disturbing cases of fathers killing their infants. One account etched in my mind is of Mark Howe, who was found guilty of punching or kicking his 18-month-old daughter’s stomach with such force that tore her intestines. He left her to die slowly the following day when, had he taken her to the hospital, she might have been saved. An English judge sentenced him to only five years in prison.

I am puzzled by the lenience shown these ‘baby killers’ while Gale is puzzled by the harsh sentences handed down to drug offenders in Thailand. However, Gale and I agree that it really comes down to the law of the land.

She said: ‘Had the chaps committed similar offences in the UK, they could have served just a small portion of the Thai sentence. I think the time the British offenders serve in Thailand is enough for the crime they commit. One of the guys I visited was sentenced to 26 years, when he would have probably have served only six months if judged in a British court. Plus, they suffer the extra trauma of being so far away from their families.

‘Moreover, when they go back, because they were handed high sentences by Thai courts, they are categorised as high-risk inmates and put in high-security prisons. Some of the older prisons in the UK I visited are in a pretty awful state. There is a serious shortage of guards so the inmates can be locked up in their cells for most of the day in the UK. In Bang Kwang, they are allowed some freedom to walk about, exercise, write letters and read for about eight hours a day.’

Western inmates usually are left to their own devices and they don’t have to work in factories, as do the Thai inmates, so they have more free time. The non-Asian inmates tend to write letters of complaint as well.

Not being able to choose which part of Britain they will end up in has made some reluctant to ask for a transfer, she says.

‘They can apply for a specific prison but there is no guarantee they will get the one they want. Obviously they prefer the prisons where their families and friends could visit them often. Given where the treaty stands now, some of them prefer to stay here despite the harsh living conditions.