Arrested under Biden, deported under Trump: Guatemalans sent back and welcomed with cookies
But instead of taxiing to International Arrivals, the plane headed towards the military side of the airport as fighter jets screamed above, weaving around in training exercises.
When the aircraft doors opened, dozens of men and women were ushered onto the tarmac where they were greeted by an emotional Guatemalan Vice President Karin Herrera and other officials and then led into a reception center for returnees.
'Good morning!' one shouted. 'How are you, paisanos (countrymen)?'
This was a chartered deportation flight from the United States, an operation that's gained new attention since the inauguration of President Donald Trump last week and his promises to remove millions of undocumented migrants.
If there was any shame or animosity when the flight left Alexandria, Louisiana, just before sunrise, none of that was evident when the migrants walked back on Guatemalan soil, many shuffling in open sneakers — the laces having been taken by US authorities in a common safety practice, and never returned.
The passengers – all adults on this flight – were welcomed with cookies and coffee and efficient processing in the migrant reception center.
Repatriation flights have been an ongoing process, Herrera told CNN, adding there had been no increase since Trump came to power. The only difference, she said, was the use of military planes such as the one arriving later on Monday.
She did not want to discuss the weekend spat between Colombia and the US over the use of military planes, saying her focus was on her citizens.
'We are committed to their integrity and their basic rights,' Herrera said.
Some of the returning Guatemalans had lived and worked in the US for years. Some were fluent in English. But they had all entered without permission or documents and so were subject to deportation.
The migrants left the US as criminals, telling us they were handcuffed on board until they were out of US airspace on their flight south. But whether they were looking forward to being back on home turf or not, the official reception they got was mostly very warm, as if they had been badly missed. A few did remain in handcuffs and were escorted by police, expected to face action for crimes alleged to have been committed in their homeland.
But for the majority, they sat with snacks as names were called and temporary identification papers were handed out. 'Undocumented' no more.
They might have skills and abilities that could find them work and a good life back in their home country, benefiting themselves and Guatemala too, officials said.
The returning migrants applauded Herrera after she gave a short speech in the arrival hall but each has their own view on whether they will heed calls to stay.
Sara Tot-Botoz had lived for 10 years in Alabama, working in construction, roofing and car repair, as well as caring for two of her children, now adults, and grandchildren.
She said she had been driving away from a Walmart with one of those grandchildren about seven months ago when she says police pulled her over and cited her for not having him in a car seat.
After her immigration status was discovered, she spent two months in jail in Alabama and then five months in Immigration and Customs Enforcement detention in Louisiana, she said.
Once processed back into Guatemala, she said her first thought was to get out of the shapeless gray sweats she was wearing and into her indigenous clothes. And then to eat some good food.
Tot-Botoz, 43, stood waiting for her belongings. Only a handful of the migrants had suitcases for their things. Most others waited for a large plastic sack to be handed over containing all that they had taken from the US.
As others charged their phones at free power banks to call friends or relatives, Tot-Botoz changed and hurried out onto the street outside.
There was another of her children, a daughter, now 25, who had not seen her mother since she was 15.
The two women hugged each other for a long time, each crying.
They had not been in contact since Tot-Botoz was taken to detention and while there was much to catch up on, for a few minutes they just wanted to hold each other.
'It feels dangerous in the US now,' Tot-Botoz told CNN, explaining that undocumented migrants could be picked up anywhere.
Tot-Botoz told CNN for now she wants to get back to her indigenous community, about a five-hour drive away, and never leave.
But Fidel Ambrocio said he still saw his future in the US.
He said he had lived there for a total of 19 years, first arriving as a teen and voluntarily leaving for a spell in 2018 before heading back north.
He has a wife, a four-year-old daughter and a baby son, born just a couple of months before he was detained, he said, on an old warrant for trespass at the home of his ex-wife's mother.
Ambrocio, 35, who'd worked in construction in Montgomery, Alabama, seemed almost stunned to be back in Guatemala.
He was also angry, not comprehending why he was deported when most of the rhetoric from Trump and his team has been about sending violent offenders out of the country.
'We're not criminals,' he insisted, saying he did not consider his offence to be a serious crime.
The migrants CNN spoke to had all been detained while Joe Biden was president, and went through removal proceedings that led to them being on the flight from Louisiana.
Ambrocio told CNN he would try to go back to the US. Legally, he said, he has to wait 10 years before applying for a visa, but he said he might try in two or four years, even if that meant travelling illegally and facing whatever the consequences might be.
'If I can never go back, I will try to get my wife and kids here,' he conceded. 'That will be very challenging.'
CNN's Michael Rios contributed to this story.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
CNN
2 hours ago
- CNN
Lawyers, an American academic and a former prime minister – the list of people ensnared by Thailand's royal defamation laws keeps growing
Arnon Nampa's youngest child runs toward the sound of shackles. The 3-year-old's only memories of his father, a prominent human right lawyer and activist, are from seeing him in a courtroom – not from his work defending others, but from the numerous lese majeste cases against him, Thailand's notoriously strict royal insult law. 'He remembers Arnon with his closely shaved hair, leg shackles, and prison uniform,' Arnon's wife Pathomporn told CNN. 'Every time we drive past the court, he says 'We are going to see Dad'.' Arnon has been sentenced to a combined 29 years in prison under lese majeste charges, and his struggle has made him a household name in Thailand where unquestioning reverence to the kingdom's monarchy is both expected and enforced. With four outstanding cases against him, the father of two could face more than 60 years behind bars for making speeches that called for reforms to the country's powerful monarchy. 'Our eldest child keeps asking every day when we will be together again. It is always a sad and uneasy atmosphere because we cannot give the children clear answers,' said Pathomporn, who requested to use only her first name. Arnon is one of 281 people charged with lese majeste in Thailand since 2020, according to the Thai Lawyers for Human Rights (TLHR) legal rights group. Among them are ordinary citizens, activists, an American scholar, and children. The list even includes a former prime minister. On Friday, Thailand's billionaire former leader Thaksin Shinawatra, who remains one of the country's most influential and divisive political figures, will hear the verdict in his own highly-anticipated lese majeste case. Here's what to know: The crime of insulting the royal family is a law enforced by some monarchies around the world. But few are stricter than in Thailand. Those found guilty of criticizing, insulting, defaming or threatening the king, queen, or heir apparent can be jailed for between three and 15 years for each count, with some sentences stretching to 50 years. Even talking about the royal family is fraught with risk, as complaints can be filed by anyone, from officials to members of the public, and police are obliged to investigate cases. Supporters of the law say it is as required to protect the monarchy from threats or harm, to maintain the institution's place at the center of Thai society, and for public order. 'It is a law protecting the head of state,' said Tul Sitthisomwong, a medical doctor and pro-royalist activist, comparing it to laws in other nations that protect the state. But human rights organizations and free speech campaigners have long said the law has been used as a political tool to stifle debate and silence critics of the Thai government and shield the monarchy from both scrutiny and reform. In recent times, lese majeste prosecutions have increased during times of anti-government unrest. Even visitors to Thailand, one of the world's most popular tourist destinations, need to careful about what they say and write. 'The risk of being prosecuted or charged under lese majeste is always constant if you are in Thailand,' said Akarachai Chaimaneekarakate, advocacy lead at TLHR. Lese majeste cases have sharply increased under King Maha Vajiralongkorn who ascended the throne in 2016 following the death of his father Bhumibol Adulyadej, a figure whose reign lasted more than 70 years. On August 3, 2020, Arnon Nampa was one of several people who gave a speech at a 'Harry Potter'-themed pro-democracy protest in Bangkok on monarchy reform. It was the first time that discussion of reforming the monarchy had gone public, and the speech helped spark nationwide youth-led protests, with millions of people demanding constitutional, military and democratic reforms, including reforms to the powerful monarchy. 'That's the speech that really shattered the ceiling on what can or cannot be said about the monarchy, (it) really broke the taboo,' said Akarachai. For that speech alone, Arnon was charged with violating Section 112 of Thailand's Criminal Code – lese majeste – and initially sentenced to four years in prison, before it was reduced to two years and eight months. But Thailand's youth were invigorated and their protests, which were ultimately put down by authorities, ignited a progressive political movement that led to unprecedented electoral gains at the ballot box three years later. Since those protests – and because of them – however, lese majeste case have skyrocketed. Between 2014 - when TLHR was formed - and 2019, 65 people were charged with lese majeste, according to the group. Since 2020, that number has risen to 281 people, with almost 2,000 prosecuted for political protest or expression, it said. Even Tul, who has been a leading and vocal proponent of lese majeste — and has himself filed a case against protesters — acknowledged that the law has been misused as a political tool. 'The law is already good by itself, but the problem lies with those who use the law,' he said. Conviction rates for lese majeste stand at around 80%, and prosecutors indict around 99% of the time — a huge percentage given the law is vaguely worded and what constitutes lese majeste is not even legally defined, TLHR said. Hearings and cases are increasingly being shrouded in secrecy, Akarachai's group has found. Those charged with lese majeste can face months or even years in pre-trial detention, contending with the cramped and harsh environment of Thai prison life before even receiving a verdict. 'Arnon has lost about 10 kilograms since entering prison. His hands are cracked and rough. All he has for bedding is a mattress about one inch thick and a thin blanket. He lives in a cell with nearly 30 other inmates. The cell has a toilet, but no door,' said Pathomporn. CNN has reached out to the Department of Corrections for comment. Other Thai pro-democracy activists have described to CNN the toll that being charged with lese majeste has had on their physical and mental health, the difficulty of holding down jobs as they are required to attend hearings every week, and strained family relations. The threat of long prison terms has led some young people to flee the country, leaving their families and lives behind. Some lese majeste activists have gone on hunger strike while in prison. In May 2024, Netiporn 'Bung' Sanesangkhom, 28, died after suffering a 'sudden cardiac arrest' authorities said, following a 65-day hunger strike while awaiting trial in jail, in a case that sparked calls for judicial reform. Seeing a need to help those charged with political crimes, Pathomporn set up Freedom Bridge, an organization that provides financial assistance and other support to political prisoners and their families in Thailand. Her organization buys food, medicine and other supplies for inmates, and helps their families with the increased financial burden. 'For families whose head of household has been imprisoned, the experience is extremely difficult both emotionally and physically,' she said. 'Most of these families are not well-off. They live hand to mouth… On top of that, those on the outside often end up taking on additional debt.' In April, prominent American academic Paul Chambers was arrested at his home in northern Thailand, charged with lese majeste and denied bail. A political science lecturer at Naresuan University in the northern province of Phitsanulok, Chambers had spent decades writing about Thai civil-military relations but provoked the ire of a regional army commander. 'I thought it was possible that it could come, but I never expected it really seriously, because I never did write or publish anything about the king,' Chambers told CNN. Chambers described the case as 'very flimsy' and that 'clearly, somebody had an agenda, and they abused this law to go after me.' 'That's happened to many, many people,' he said. Chambers was kept in the prison's general population for two days before his release on bail. 'I was very much afraid,' he said. 'I also had prisoners continually ask me why I was in prison… They would look at each other and say, 'what, you were insulting my king?' And so it became scarier.' The charges, which included one count of lese majeste and one count under the Computer Crimes Act, were later dropped. But Chambers was still sacked from his university job, his visa was revoked, and he was effectively deported – leaving his wife and a life built over 30 years in Thailand. Chambers believes his case was clearly political, and an example of lese majeste being used to silence critics not just of the monarchy, but the entire Thai establishment. 'There are different dimensions of elites in Thailand, but all of these elites oscillate around the institution of monarchy and the military is one dimension of these elites,' said Chambers, who remains a visiting fellow at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. The military, he said, is increasingly using the courts to go after perceived enemies. 'When a powerful institution becomes afraid that its interests are being attacked, like, for example, I was saying things about the economic empire of the army, when you feel that your interests are being attacked, then those institutions begin to bring charges,' said Chambers. Alongside lese majeste, other laws such as sedition, defamation, and computer crimes are often used to silence a wider net of state criticism, critics say. In January, United Nations experts urged Thailand to repeal its lese majeste law, saying such laws 'have no place in a democratic country.' There have been recent but unsuccessful attempts to amend the law and plenty of Thais support reform, despite the risks. The progressive Move Forward Party, which was forged in the ashes of the 2020 protests, won the most seats in the 2023 general elections on a platform of widespread institutional reforms. Part of their popular campaign was to amend lese majeste. Despite winning the most seats in parliament, the party was prevented from forming a government after conservative lawmakers took issue with the party's royal reform agenda. Thailand's Constitutional Court ordered the party to end its lese majeste campaign, and accused its leaders of seeking to overthrow the constitutional monarchy. The same court later ordered the party to disband. The rulings were a major blow to Thailand's progressive movement, and effectively ensured that no party or person would legally be able to push for amendments to lese majeste without violating the constitution. An Amnesty Bill, currently working its way through parliament, has offered fresh hope to those imprisoned on political charges, but lese majeste is unlikely to be included. For Thaksin, the former premier and ex owner of Manchester City Football Club who was ousted in a 2006 coup, his lese majeste charge revolves around comments he gave to a South Korean media outlet a decade ago. The case against him represents a serious blow to the fortunes of one of the country's most powerful families. Thaksin built a famed political dynasty that has dominated Thai politics in some form for the past 20 years, boasting four prime ministers. But his populist policies were anathema to the country's rich elites and conservatives, and he was dogged by corruption allegations he long denied. Thaksin's daughter Paetongtarn Shinawatra was recently suspended as prime minister and the Constitutional Court will decide her fate next week. 'The conservative forces can always keep these cases up their sleeve, like playing a game of cards, and they could hold these pieces always ready to use them, and make them happen in a heartbeat if they want,' said Chambers.
CNN
2 hours ago
- CNN
Lawyers, an American academic and a former prime minister – the list of people ensnared by Thailand's royal defamation laws keeps growing
Arnon Nampa's youngest child runs toward the sound of shackles. The 3-year-old's only memories of his father, a prominent human right lawyer and activist, are from seeing him in a courtroom – not from his work defending others, but from the numerous lese majeste cases against him, Thailand's notoriously strict royal insult law. 'He remembers Arnon with his closely shaved hair, leg shackles, and prison uniform,' Arnon's wife Pathomporn told CNN. 'Every time we drive past the court, he says 'We are going to see Dad'.' Arnon has been sentenced to a combined 29 years in prison under lese majeste charges, and his struggle has made him a household name in Thailand where unquestioning reverence to the kingdom's monarchy is both expected and enforced. With four outstanding cases against him, the father of two could face more than 60 years behind bars for making speeches that called for reforms to the country's powerful monarchy. 'Our eldest child keeps asking every day when we will be together again. It is always a sad and uneasy atmosphere because we cannot give the children clear answers,' said Pathomporn, who requested to use only her first name. Arnon is one of 281 people charged with lese majeste in Thailand since 2020, according to the Thai Lawyers for Human Rights (TLHR) legal rights group. Among them are ordinary citizens, activists, an American scholar, and children. The list even includes a former prime minister. On Friday, Thailand's billionaire former leader Thaksin Shinawatra, who remains one of the country's most influential and divisive political figures, will hear the verdict in his own highly-anticipated lese majeste case. Here's what to know: The crime of insulting the royal family is a law enforced by some monarchies around the world. But few are stricter than in Thailand. Those found guilty of criticizing, insulting, defaming or threatening the king, queen, or heir apparent can be jailed for between three and 15 years for each count, with some sentences stretching to 50 years. Even talking about the royal family is fraught with risk, as complaints can be filed by anyone, from officials to members of the public, and police are obliged to investigate cases. Supporters of the law say it is as required to protect the monarchy from threats or harm, to maintain the institution's place at the center of Thai society, and for public order. 'It is a law protecting the head of state,' said Tul Sitthisomwong, a medical doctor and pro-royalist activist, comparing it to laws in other nations that protect the state. But human rights organizations and free speech campaigners have long said the law has been used as a political tool to stifle debate and silence critics of the Thai government and shield the monarchy from both scrutiny and reform. In recent times, lese majeste prosecutions have increased during times of anti-government unrest. Even visitors to Thailand, one of the world's most popular tourist destinations, need to careful about what they say and write. 'The risk of being prosecuted or charged under lese majeste is always constant if you are in Thailand,' said Akarachai Chaimaneekarakate, advocacy lead at TLHR. Lese majeste cases have sharply increased under King Maha Vajiralongkorn who ascended the throne in 2016 following the death of his father Bhumibol Adulyadej, a figure whose reign lasted more than 70 years. On August 3, 2020, Arnon Nampa was one of several people who gave a speech at a 'Harry Potter'-themed pro-democracy protest in Bangkok on monarchy reform. It was the first time that discussion of reforming the monarchy had gone public, and the speech helped spark nationwide youth-led protests, with millions of people demanding constitutional, military and democratic reforms, including reforms to the powerful monarchy. 'That's the speech that really shattered the ceiling on what can or cannot be said about the monarchy, (it) really broke the taboo,' said Akarachai. For that speech alone, Arnon was charged with violating Section 112 of Thailand's Criminal Code – lese majeste – and initially sentenced to four years in prison, before it was reduced to two years and eight months. But Thailand's youth were invigorated and their protests, which were ultimately put down by authorities, ignited a progressive political movement that led to unprecedented electoral gains at the ballot box three years later. Since those protests – and because of them – however, lese majeste case have skyrocketed. Between 2014 - when TLHR was formed - and 2019, 65 people were charged with lese majeste, according to the group. Since 2020, that number has risen to 281 people, with almost 2,000 prosecuted for political protest or expression, it said. Even Tul, who has been a leading and vocal proponent of lese majeste, acknowledged that the law has been misused as a political tool. 'The law is already good by itself, but the problem lies with those who use the law,' he said. Conviction rates for lese majeste stand at around 80%, and prosecutors indict around 99% of the time — a huge percentage given the law is vaguely worded and what constitutes lese majeste is not even legally defined, TLHR said. Hearings and cases are increasingly being shrouded in secrecy, Akarachai's group has found. Those charged with lese majeste can face months or even years in pre-trial detention, contending with the cramped and harsh environment of Thai prison life before even receiving a verdict. 'Arnon has lost about 10 kilograms since entering prison. His hands are cracked and rough. All he has for bedding is a mattress about one inch thick and a thin blanket. He lives in a cell with nearly 30 other inmates. The cell has a toilet, but no door,' said Pathomporn. CNN has reached out to the Department of Corrections for comment. Other Thai pro-democracy activists have described to CNN the toll that being charged with lese majeste has had on their physical and mental health, the difficulty of holding down jobs as they are required to attend hearings every week, and strained family relations. The threat of long prison terms has led some young people to flee the country, leaving their families and lives behind. Some lese majeste activists have gone on hunger strike while in prison. In May 2024, Netiporn 'Bung' Sanesangkhom, 28, died after suffering a 'sudden cardiac arrest' authorities said, following a 65-day hunger strike while awaiting trial in jail, in a case that sparked calls for judicial reform. Seeing a need to help those charged with political crimes, Pathomporn set up Freedom Bridge, an organization that provides financial assistance and other support to political prisoners and their families in Thailand. Her organization buys food, medicine and other supplies for inmates, and helps their families with the increased financial burden. 'For families whose head of household has been imprisoned, the experience is extremely difficult both emotionally and physically,' she said. 'Most of these families are not well-off. They live hand to mouth… On top of that, those on the outside often end up taking on additional debt.' In April, prominent American academic Paul Chambers was arrested at his home in northern Thailand, charged with lese majeste and denied bail. A political science lecturer at Naresuan University in the northern province of Phitsanulok, Chambers had spent decades writing about Thai civil-military relations but provoked the ire of a regional army commander. 'I thought it was possible that it could come, but I never expected it really seriously, because I never did write or publish anything about the king,' Chambers told CNN. Chambers described the case as 'very flimsy' and that 'clearly, somebody had an agenda, and they abused this law to go after me.' 'That's happened to many, many people,' he said. Chambers was kept in the prison's general population for two days before his release on bail. 'I was very much afraid,' he said. 'I also had prisoners continually ask me why I was in prison… They would look at each other and say, 'what, you were insulting my king?' And so it became scarier.' The charges, which included one count of lese majeste and one count under the Computer Crimes Act, were later dropped. But Chambers was still sacked from his university job, his visa was revoked, and he was effectively deported – leaving his wife and a life built over 30 years in Thailand. Chambers believes his case was clearly political, and an example of lese majeste being used to silence critics not just of the monarchy, but the entire Thai establishment. 'There are different dimensions of elites in Thailand, but all of these elites oscillate around the institution of monarchy and the military is one dimension of these elites,' said Chambers, who remains a visiting fellow at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. The military, he said, is increasingly using the courts to go after perceived enemies. 'When a powerful institution becomes afraid that its interests are being attacked, like, for example, I was saying things about the economic empire of the army, when you feel that your interests are being attacked, then those institutions begin to bring charges,' said Chambers. Alongside lese majeste, other laws such as sedition, defamation, and computer crimes are often used to silence a wider net of state criticism, critics say. In January, United Nations experts urged Thailand to repeal its lese majeste law, saying such laws 'have no place in a democratic country.' There have been recent but unsuccessful attempts to amend the law and plenty of Thais support reform, despite the risks. The progressive Move Forward Party, which was forged in the ashes of the 2020 protests, won the most seats in the 2023 general elections on a platform of widespread institutional reforms. Part of their popular campaign was to amend lese majeste. Despite winning the most seats in parliament, the party was prevented from forming a government after conservative lawmakers took issue with the party's royal reform agenda. Thailand's Constitutional Court ordered the party to end its lese majeste campaign, and accused its leaders of seeking to overthrow the constitutional monarchy. The same court later ordered the party to disband. The rulings were a major blow to Thailand's progressive movement, and effectively ensured that no party or person would legally be able to push for amendments to lese majeste without violating the constitution. An Amnesty Bill, currently working its way through parliament, has offered fresh hope to those imprisoned on political charges, but lese majeste is unlikely to be included. For Thaksin, the former premier and ex owner of Manchester City Football Club who was ousted in a 2006 coup, his lese majeste charge revolves around comments he gave to a South Korean media outlet a decade ago. The case against him represents a serious blow to the fortunes of one of the country's most powerful families. Thaksin built a famed political dynasty that has dominated Thai politics in some form for the past 20 years, boasting four prime ministers. But his populist policies were anathema to the country's rich elites and conservatives, and he was dogged by corruption allegations he long denied. Thaksin's daughter Paetongtarn Shinawatra was recently suspended as prime minister and the Constitutional Court will decide her fate next week. 'The conservative forces can always keep these cases up their sleeve, like playing a game of cards, and they could hold these pieces always ready to use them, and make them happen in a heartbeat if they want,' said Chambers.
CNN
2 hours ago
- CNN
Lawyers, an American academic and a former prime minister – the list of people ensnared by Thailand's royal defamation laws keeps growing
Arnon Nampa's youngest child runs toward the sound of shackles. The 3-year-old's only memories of his father, a prominent human right lawyer and activist, are from seeing him in a courtroom – not from his work defending others, but from the numerous lese majeste cases against him, Thailand's notoriously strict royal insult law. 'He remembers Arnon with his closely shaved hair, leg shackles, and prison uniform,' Arnon's wife Pathomporn told CNN. 'Every time we drive past the court, he says 'We are going to see Dad'.' Arnon has been sentenced to a combined 29 years in prison under lese majeste charges, and his struggle has made him a household name in Thailand where unquestioning reverence to the kingdom's monarchy is both expected and enforced. With four outstanding cases against him, the father of two could face more than 60 years behind bars for making speeches that called for reforms to the country's powerful monarchy. 'Our eldest child keeps asking every day when we will be together again. It is always a sad and uneasy atmosphere because we cannot give the children clear answers,' said Pathomporn, who requested to use only her first name. Arnon is one of 281 people charged with lese majeste in Thailand since 2020, according to the Thai Lawyers for Human Rights (TLHR) legal rights group. Among them are ordinary citizens, activists, an American scholar, and children. The list even includes a former prime minister. On Friday, Thailand's billionaire former leader Thaksin Shinawatra, who remains one of the country's most influential and divisive political figures, will hear the verdict in his own highly-anticipated lese majeste case. Here's what to know: The crime of insulting the royal family is a law enforced by some monarchies around the world. But few are stricter than in Thailand. Those found guilty of criticizing, insulting, defaming or threatening the king, queen, or heir apparent can be jailed for between three and 15 years for each count, with some sentences stretching to 50 years. Even talking about the royal family is fraught with risk, as complaints can be filed by anyone, from officials to members of the public, and police are obliged to investigate cases. Supporters of the law say it is as required to protect the monarchy from threats or harm, to maintain the institution's place at the center of Thai society, and for public order. 'It is a law protecting the head of state,' said Tul Sitthisomwong, a medical doctor and pro-royalist activist, comparing it to laws in other nations that protect the state. But human rights organizations and free speech campaigners have long said the law has been used as a political tool to stifle debate and silence critics of the Thai government and shield the monarchy from both scrutiny and reform. In recent times, lese majeste prosecutions have increased during times of anti-government unrest. Even visitors to Thailand, one of the world's most popular tourist destinations, need to careful about what they say and write. 'The risk of being prosecuted or charged under lese majeste is always constant if you are in Thailand,' said Akarachai Chaimaneekarakate, advocacy lead at TLHR. Lese majeste cases have sharply increased under King Maha Vajiralongkorn who ascended the throne in 2016 following the death of his father Bhumibol Adulyadej, a figure whose reign lasted more than 70 years. On August 3, 2020, Arnon Nampa was one of several people who gave a speech at a 'Harry Potter'-themed pro-democracy protest in Bangkok on monarchy reform. It was the first time that discussion of reforming the monarchy had gone public, and the speech helped spark nationwide youth-led protests, with millions of people demanding constitutional, military and democratic reforms, including reforms to the powerful monarchy. 'That's the speech that really shattered the ceiling on what can or cannot be said about the monarchy, (it) really broke the taboo,' said Akarachai. For that speech alone, Arnon was charged with violating Section 112 of Thailand's Criminal Code – lese majeste – and initially sentenced to four years in prison, before it was reduced to two years and eight months. But Thailand's youth were invigorated and their protests, which were ultimately put down by authorities, ignited a progressive political movement that led to unprecedented electoral gains at the ballot box three years later. Since those protests – and because of them – however, lese majeste case have skyrocketed. Between 2014 - when TLHR was formed - and 2019, 65 people were charged with lese majeste, according to the group. Since 2020, that number has risen to 281 people, with almost 2,000 prosecuted for political protest or expression, it said. Even Tul, who has been a leading and vocal proponent of lese majeste, acknowledged that the law has been misused as a political tool. 'The law is already good by itself, but the problem lies with those who use the law,' he said. Conviction rates for lese majeste stand at around 80%, and prosecutors indict around 99% of the time — a huge percentage given the law is vaguely worded and what constitutes lese majeste is not even legally defined, TLHR said. Hearings and cases are increasingly being shrouded in secrecy, Akarachai's group has found. Those charged with lese majeste can face months or even years in pre-trial detention, contending with the cramped and harsh environment of Thai prison life before even receiving a verdict. 'Arnon has lost about 10 kilograms since entering prison. His hands are cracked and rough. All he has for bedding is a mattress about one inch thick and a thin blanket. He lives in a cell with nearly 30 other inmates. The cell has a toilet, but no door,' said Pathomporn. CNN has reached out to the Department of Corrections for comment. Other Thai pro-democracy activists have described to CNN the toll that being charged with lese majeste has had on their physical and mental health, the difficulty of holding down jobs as they are required to attend hearings every week, and strained family relations. The threat of long prison terms has led some young people to flee the country, leaving their families and lives behind. Some lese majeste activists have gone on hunger strike while in prison. In May 2024, Netiporn 'Bung' Sanesangkhom, 28, died after suffering a 'sudden cardiac arrest' authorities said, following a 65-day hunger strike while awaiting trial in jail, in a case that sparked calls for judicial reform. Seeing a need to help those charged with political crimes, Pathomporn set up Freedom Bridge, an organization that provides financial assistance and other support to political prisoners and their families in Thailand. Her organization buys food, medicine and other supplies for inmates, and helps their families with the increased financial burden. 'For families whose head of household has been imprisoned, the experience is extremely difficult both emotionally and physically,' she said. 'Most of these families are not well-off. They live hand to mouth… On top of that, those on the outside often end up taking on additional debt.' In April, prominent American academic Paul Chambers was arrested at his home in northern Thailand, charged with lese majeste and denied bail. A political science lecturer at Naresuan University in the northern province of Phitsanulok, Chambers had spent decades writing about Thai civil-military relations but provoked the ire of a regional army commander. 'I thought it was possible that it could come, but I never expected it really seriously, because I never did write or publish anything about the king,' Chambers told CNN. Chambers described the case as 'very flimsy' and that 'clearly, somebody had an agenda, and they abused this law to go after me.' 'That's happened to many, many people,' he said. Chambers was kept in the prison's general population for two days before his release on bail. 'I was very much afraid,' he said. 'I also had prisoners continually ask me why I was in prison… They would look at each other and say, 'what, you were insulting my king?' And so it became scarier.' The charges, which included one count of lese majeste and one count under the Computer Crimes Act, were later dropped. But Chambers was still sacked from his university job, his visa was revoked, and he was effectively deported – leaving his wife and a life built over 30 years in Thailand. Chambers believes his case was clearly political, and an example of lese majeste being used to silence critics not just of the monarchy, but the entire Thai establishment. 'There are different dimensions of elites in Thailand, but all of these elites oscillate around the institution of monarchy and the military is one dimension of these elites,' said Chambers, who remains a visiting fellow at the Institute of Southeast Asian Studies. The military, he said, is increasingly using the courts to go after perceived enemies. 'When a powerful institution becomes afraid that its interests are being attacked, like, for example, I was saying things about the economic empire of the army, when you feel that your interests are being attacked, then those institutions begin to bring charges,' said Chambers. Alongside lese majeste, other laws such as sedition, defamation, and computer crimes are often used to silence a wider net of state criticism, critics say. In January, United Nations experts urged Thailand to repeal its lese majeste law, saying such laws 'have no place in a democratic country.' There have been recent but unsuccessful attempts to amend the law and plenty of Thais support reform, despite the risks. The progressive Move Forward Party, which was forged in the ashes of the 2020 protests, won the most seats in the 2023 general elections on a platform of widespread institutional reforms. Part of their popular campaign was to amend lese majeste. Despite winning the most seats in parliament, the party was prevented from forming a government after conservative lawmakers took issue with the party's royal reform agenda. Thailand's Constitutional Court ordered the party to end its lese majeste campaign, and accused its leaders of seeking to overthrow the constitutional monarchy. The same court later ordered the party to disband. The rulings were a major blow to Thailand's progressive movement, and effectively ensured that no party or person would legally be able to push for amendments to lese majeste without violating the constitution. An Amnesty Bill, currently working its way through parliament, has offered fresh hope to those imprisoned on political charges, but lese majeste is unlikely to be included. For Thaksin, the former premier and ex owner of Manchester City Football Club who was ousted in a 2006 coup, his lese majeste charge revolves around comments he gave to a South Korean media outlet a decade ago. The case against him represents a serious blow to the fortunes of one of the country's most powerful families. Thaksin built a famed political dynasty that has dominated Thai politics in some form for the past 20 years, boasting four prime ministers. But his populist policies were anathema to the country's rich elites and conservatives, and he was dogged by corruption allegations he long denied. Thaksin's daughter Paetongtarn Shinawatra was recently suspended as prime minister and the Constitutional Court will decide her fate next week. 'The conservative forces can always keep these cases up their sleeve, like playing a game of cards, and they could hold these pieces always ready to use them, and make them happen in a heartbeat if they want,' said Chambers.
