Puey Ungphakorn: The Man Who Never Needed to Be Important

There are some people whose lives sound almost unbelievable when you list the things they did. Puey Ungphakorn was a teacher, economist, British Army officer, secret agent, prisoner, Governor of the Bank of Thailand, university rector and political exile. He was awarded an MBE by Britain, received the Ramon Magsaysay Award and became one of the most respected public figures Thailand has ever produced.

Yet there was remarkably little about Puey that suggested he was particularly interested in being important. He drove his own car when he could have used an official one, lived modestly when he could have become wealthy and turned down political opportunities that many people would have fought for. Perhaps the best way to understand him is not by listing his achievements, but by looking at what he did when life placed him in some very unusual situations.

The Fishmonger’s Son

Puey was born in Bangkok on 9 March 1916 into a modest Thai-Chinese family. His father was an immigrant fishmonger who died when Puey was still a boy, leaving his mother with a large family to raise. It was not exactly the traditional starting point for a future Governor of the Bank of Thailand.

He attended Assumption College in Bangkok and excelled at mathematics and languages. By the age of seventeen he was already teaching, before becoming one of the first students at the newly established Thammasat University. After graduating in law and politics in 1937, he won a Thai government scholarship to study economics at the London School of Economics.

London was supposed to be the beginning of an academic career. Puey studied hard and completed his economics degree in 1942, but by then the Second World War had changed everything. Thailand had fallen under Japanese influence, and the young Thai student in London was about to take a rather unexpected change of direction.

The Economist Who Became a British Soldier

Puey and other Thai students in Britain chose not to return to a Thailand aligned with Japan. Instead, they became involved in what would become the Seri Thai (Free Thai) movement and volunteered to support the Allied cause. For Puey, economics would have to wait.

The Thai volunteers initially entered British military service and were later trained for much more specialised work. Known as the White Elephants, they became associated with Force 136, the British organisation operating clandestinely throughout Southeast Asia. After completing their training, the Thai volunteers were commissioned as officers, giving Puey a remarkable second career while his first one was temporarily on hold.

Puey later described himself simply as a “temporary soldier”, which was typical of his understated way of looking at things. There was nothing temporary about the risks involved, however. He progressed through the British Army during the war, becoming an officer and eventually holding the temporary rank of Major.

So how did a Thai student in Britain become an officer in the British Army? The answer appears to be that he did not simply join an ordinary British regiment and work his way up in the usual fashion. He was part of a specially organised group of Thai volunteers whose knowledge of Thailand, languages and politics made them valuable to the British secret war effort.

A Parachute, a Bad Landing and a Very Unhappy Village

In 1944, Puey was sent back to Thailand on a clandestine mission. His task was to establish contact with the Seri Thai resistance inside the country and help create communications between the movement and the Allied forces. It was an extremely dangerous assignment, but getting into Thailand turned out to be only the first problem.

Puey parachuted into Chai Nat Province and landed in the wrong area. He injured his ankle and was separated from the others involved in the operation. The following morning, local villagers discovered him hiding in the countryside.

There was no welcoming committee. Puey was surrounded, tied up and handed over to the local authorities. From there he was passed through the Thai police system and eventually taken to Bangkok.

This is where some accounts become confusing. A few simplified versions claim that Puey was “captured by the Japanese”, but the real story appears to be more complicated. He was initially captured by locals and handed to Thai authorities, although the Japanese later became involved in questioning him, but allowing the Thai authorities to hold him in custody.

That distinction is important. If the Japanese had simply captured a British-trained intelligence officer in the field and kept him under their own control, his prospects would probably have been considerably poorer. Instead, Puey found himself in the strange position of being an Allied agent officially under arrest by his own country’s police, while some of those same police officers were secretly supporting the Seri Thai movement.

The Prisoner Who Wasn’t

Puey was taken to Bangkok and held under Thai police control. The Commissioner-General of Police, Luang Adul Aduldecharat, was secretly involved with the Seri Thai movement, creating one of the most extraordinary situations of the war. Officially, Puey was a prisoner; unofficially, he was being protected.

His detention was maintained partly as a cover. The Japanese could see that he had been captured and was being held, while sympathetic Thai officials could quietly ensure that he remained alive and useful. It was an extraordinarily delicate balancing act.

Puey was eventually able to meet Pridi Banomyong, the Regent to a young King and leader of the Seri Thai movement inside Thailand. He also passed on important allied messages from British political and military learners, and maintained contact with the resistance while technically remaining a prisoner. At one point, the British-trained secret agent was effectively continuing his work from inside the very system that was supposed to be keeping him locked up.

It is difficult to imagine a better example of the strange world in which the Seri Thai movement operated. Nothing was quite what it appeared to be. A police force officially serving a Japanese-aligned government was secretly protecting resistance agents, while one of those agents continued working under the nose of the people supposedly holding him prisoner.

Back to Britain — and an MBE

When Japan surrendered in August 1945, Puey’s unusual military career came to an end. He had gone from Thai economics student to British-trained intelligence officer, Seri Thai agent and temporary Major. Britain also recognised his wartime service by awarding him with an honour as Member of the Order of the British Empire, the MBE.

It was an appropriate honour for a man who had volunteered to fight for the Allied cause while remaining very much part of Thailand’s own resistance movement. Puey then returned to the academic career that the war had interrupted, continuing his studies at the London School of Economics. He completed his doctorate in 1948, becoming one of the first Thais to earn a PhD in economics from the institution.

For most people, that would already have been enough for one lifetime. Puey, however, was only in his early thirties. His next career would make him a household name in Thailand.

Margaret and the Family

While living in Britain, Puey had met Margaret Smith, an Englishwoman who would become his wife. Margaret was born in England in 1919 and had grown up in London near the River Thames. She was strongly influenced by social reform and pacifism, and her own views would make her a much more interesting character while continuing to practice those traits in Thailand.

They married in 1946. Margaret had fallen in love with a Thai student who had spent much of the war becoming a British Army officer, and she then moved to a country about which she had previously known very little. She learned Thai and eventually became comfortable reading and speaking the language, while maintaining her own strong views on social justice and pacifism.

The couple had three sons: Jon, Peter and Giles. Jon, their eldest, was born in London in 1947 and later became a well-known social activist and senator in Thailand. Peter became a journalist, while Giles pursued an academic and political career.

For all the importance of Puey’s career, the family apparently remained relatively ordinary in their habits. Later accounts of his public life repeatedly emphasised that the family lived modestly and that Puey showed little interest in the wealth or privileges that could easily have come with his position. That modesty would become even more obvious when he took over one of the most powerful jobs in the country.

The Governor Who Drove Himself to Work

Puey returned to Thailand in 1949 and joined the Ministry of Finance. His rise was rapid, helped by his intelligence, experience and ability to understand complicated economic problems without losing sight of the people affected by them.

During his time at the Ministry he had requested leave over ethical issues, but that was refused and he was sent to the Royal Thai Embassy in London as Economic Counsellor. (circa mid-1950s)

In 1959, at the age of just 43, he became Governor of the Bank of Thailand.

It was an enormously important job, but Puey apparently saw no reason why becoming Governor should suddenly turn him into royalty. He developed a reputation for living modestly and for being extremely careful about the difference between public property and private property, and used his own car to get to work, rather than an official vehicle.

The famous image of the great central banker was not of a man enjoying the privileges of power, but of somebody who believed that government resources belonged to the government, not to him.

Puey remained Governor for more than twelve years, the longest-serving governor in the Bank of Thailand’s history. During that time he helped build the institution’s reputation for stability, technical competence and integrity. He also helped shape Thailand’s economic development during one of the country’s most important periods of modernisation.

The Man Who Didn’t Like Being Told What to Do

Puey’s position inevitably brought him into contact with powerful politicians and military leaders. Thailand was not always an easy place for an independent-minded public servant, particularly one responsible for money. Yet Puey believed that the Bank of Thailand should make financial decisions for economic reasons, not simply because somebody politically powerful wanted something done.

That attitude could have made him many enemies. Instead, his reputation for honesty and competence became so strong that he was widely respected, even by people who did not always agree with him. His independence was one of the reasons he remained trusted during a period when trust in public institutions was often in short supply.

In 1965 he received the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Government Service. The award recognised not only his economic skills but also his personal integrity and dedication to public service. Its assessment of Puey made clear that his reputation had been built on more than clever financial management.

People Before Money

Despite his reputation as an economist and banker, Puey never seemed particularly interested in money for its own sake. He was more concerned with what economic growth actually meant for ordinary people. A country could have impressive statistics, but if people at the bottom were still struggling, then clearly something was missing.

This became particularly important through his long association with Thammasat University. He served as Dean of the Faculty of Economics and helped develop it into one of the country’s strongest academic departments. He also promoted programs that exposed students and academics to the realities of poverty and inequality in rural Thailand.

Puey believed that development should improve the lives of ordinary people rather than simply make the national figures look impressive. His ideas on the quality of life and social welfare would become among his most important contributions to Thailand. The economist who had spent years dealing with central banks and international finance had not forgotten the people at the bottom of the economic ladder.

The Prime Minister Who Never Was

By the early 1970s, Puey had become one of Thailand’s most respected public figures. His name was mentioned as a possible candidate for high political office, including the position of prime minister. He showed little enthusiasm for the idea.

It is tempting to imagine that many modern politicians would find such an offer rather difficult to refuse. Puey apparently believed he could be more useful doing the things he understood best: economics, education and public service. He eventually became Rector of Thammasat University in 1975.

Unfortunately, Thailand was heading into one of the darkest periods of its modern history. Political divisions were deepening, student activism was becoming increasingly controversial and violence was never far from the surface on the streets of Bangkok. Thammasat University soon found itself at the center of the storm.

Blood On The Campus

Although he tried to keep public protests out of the University, it all went horribly wrong when on 6 October 1976, violence erupted inside Thammasat. Students were attacked and killed, and the events became one of the darkest episodes in modern Thai history. Puey, as Rector, found himself associated with a university that had suddenly become a bloody battlefield.

He resigned in protest at what had happened. He was then warned that his own life was in danger, and when he attempted to leave Thailand he reportedly encountered an angry mob at Don Mueang Airport. With assistance from Air Force Police officers who protected him, he managed to board a flight for London and escaped the country.

It was an extraordinary and deeply sad reversal. The man who had risked his life returning secretly to Thailand during the Second World War was now being forced to flee Thailand for his own safety.

After everything he had done for his country, the final part of his life would be spent largely in exile. Puey was probably one of the few people that Thailand really needed, but he had no choice when it came to the safety of himself and his family.

Home Again, but Not Quite

England became Puey’s refuge once more. It was the country where he had first arrived as a young scholarship student, met Margaret, joined the Seri Thai movement and trained as a soldier. Now, three decades later, he was back under very different circumstances.

In September 1977, Puey suffered a serious hemorrhagic stroke and spent three months in hospital. The stroke left him with impaired speech and limited control of his right hand, a cruel blow for a man who had spent his life teaching, writing and speaking. His health never fully recovered, although he continued to take an interest in Thailand and the events taking place there.

The family lived quietly in London during these years, and the country gave Puey something he had badly needed after the events of 1976: peace. One memorial account later noted the irony that England offered him and his family the quality of life and security that he had spent much of his own career trying to help create for ordinary people in Thailand.

His reputation in Thailand gradually recovered. Puey was able to return to his homeland for visits in 1987, 1993, 1995 and 1997, allowing him to see Thailand again after the long years of exile. Those visits must have carried mixed emotions for a man who had spent so much of his life trying to improve the country, only to have been forced to leave it.

The Last Journey Home

Puey Ungphakorn died in London on 28 July 1999. He was 83 years old, and his family held a small funeral service in England before arrangements were made to bring his ashes back to Thailand. On 16 August 1999, his ashes returned home and were placed at Wat Pathum Kongka in Bangkok, near those of his mother and grandmother.

It was a quietly appropriate ending. Puey had spent his final years in the country where much of his extraordinary adult life had begun, surrounded by the family that had shared so much of it with him. But in the end, he came home to Thailand.

So, What Sort of Man Was He?

Puey Ungphakorn achieved enough to fill several respectable biographies. He was an economist, British Army officer, Seri Thai agent, prisoner, central banker, educator and university rector. He was awarded an MBE, received the Ramon Magsaysay Award and became internationally respected in his profession.

But the titles only tell part of the story. When he was young, he studied hard. When war came, he volunteered.

When his parachute mission went wrong, he carried on. When he was captured, he somehow continued working for the resistance. When he became powerful, he did not become particularly interested in wealth.

He spent his life dealing with generals, politicians and bankers without becoming one of the people who believed power entitled them to special treatment. He tried to build institutions that would survive after he had gone and believed that economic progress meant very little if ordinary people were left behind. He even turned down the kind of political opportunities that many people would spend a lifetime chasing.

Perhaps that was what made Puey unusual. He never seemed particularly interested in becoming a great man. He simply kept trying to properly do the job in front of him.

And somehow, by doing that, he became one of Thailand’s great men.