Certainly, the enthusiasm and dedication of some of the red shirts has surprised neutral observers, as has the fraternisation between the red shirts and local Bangkok people and - worryingly for the security commanders - ordinary soldiers and Buddhist monks. But 30,000 demonstrating red shirts are fewer than 0.05 per cent of Thailand's population, hardly a resounding expression of democratic will.

There is big money backing the red shirts, with many demonstrators being paid 1,000 baht (HK$240) a day, five times the agricultural wage, and their leaders having recourse to the comforts of five-star hotels. The red shirts also have the support of modern weaponry, not all of it stolen from fleeing soldiers. Some red leaders have said they are going to wage 'war' against the government. At least nine of the 24 dead in the violence on April 10, when the army half-heartedly tried to regain control, were killed by high-velocity bullets, some at close range. Prime Minister Abhisit Vejjajiva has called the shooters 'terrorists' but an official probe has failed to reveal whether they were soldiers, hard-core red shirts or freelance killers.

Any civilised government would find it impossible to accept what the red shirts are doing, Finance Minister Korn Chatikavanij claims. 'It is as if 30,000 people, many armed, set up camp in the middle of Piccadilly Circus blocking all traffic for a month,' he said. 'The mobs move in convoys randomly blocking all traffic and storm parliament, threatening to lynch the prime minister, then go to his house and throw excrement and threaten to kill him. When authorities move in to disperse them, they fire rocket grenades and snipers use laser guidance to pick off officers. How would Gordon Brown or Barack Obama react to such provocation?'

There is no easy way out because almost every potential leader has been compromised. Thai politicians have long been regarded as being as corrupt as any, even embracing such nicknames as 'the eel'.

But hitherto, the conservative bureaucracy and business elite could be relied upon to see that the country ran relatively smoothly, with a backstop from the military if necessary and a cautionary word from King Bhumibol Adulyadej if things really got out of hand.

But when it came to the crunch, the military failed. They ousted Thaksin when he was at the United Nations in September 2006, and then showed that they lacked the imagination and intelligence to run the complex developing country that Thailand has become.

They further disgraced themselves by failing to take action against the previous royalist 'yellow shirt' demonstrators even when they took over Bangkok's international airport, just as they allowed the red shirts to take over large areas of the city.

The ailing king and his courtiers have also compromised themselves, first by being seen to back the coup ousting Thaksin, and then by association with the yellow shirts. Although talk of succession is still taboo and punishable with stiff jail terms, in the last week posters have appeared in Bangkok calling for Thaksin to be Thailand's president. He has disavowed them, but it looks as if someone is testing the waters.

There is only one slender hope of halting Thailand's journey to failed state - that King Bhumibol should try to save his kingdom and country by declaring that Abhisit has agreed fresh elections will be held - not now, because that would be giving in to mob rule, but before the end of the year, and name the date.

He should promise a grand council of state, pointedly excluding prominent royal courtiers, to oversee the fairness of the election and accept its result. The council would also consider changes to ensure a smooth succession of a constitutional monarchy along British lines where the court will not interfere in politics.

There is still enough reverence for the monarch to bring about acceptance of the idea. Then Abhisit would have six months to prove he really is the most intelligent and least corrupt candidate.

Kevin Rafferty was editor-in-chief of Thailand's Business Day newspaper