BANGKOK — Bangkok was on edge this weekend after the army chief told the prime minister on national television that he must resign and the prime minister — in office for just a month — said he was too busy to step down.
The demand by the army chief, Gen. Anupong Paochinda, came Thursday, when he blamed the government for a violent crackdown on protesters and said, “You cannot be above the pools of blood.”
His words raised worries of a military coup. But Prime Minister Somchai Wongsawat brushed them aside, saying on Friday that he still had a job to do, and he turned his attention to Thailand’s other, simultaneous crisis, the threat of a border war with Cambodia.
Pressure has grown in Thailand since protesters barricaded the prime minister’s office compound nearly two months ago, leading the government to conduct its business in Bangkok’s former international airport.
As the demonstrations continue, the divisions in society seem to be deepening, and the mood seems more confrontational and angry.
On the surface, Bangkok appears unruffled. Office workers crowd the lunchtime food stalls, monks make their morning rounds, traffic sits and waits for the long red lights to change. Monsoon rains sweep through the city, then stop.
But dozens of interviews around the city in recent days, as well as in the countryside, suggest that even if the political confrontation is resolved, the underlying social and political tensions are likely to continue.
“The country is split right down the middle,” said Wiriya Sungkhaniyom, an editor and translator. “I’m surprised at all the passion. I didn’t realize that we were capable of such strong feelings. We are known for having short memories and prefer to go along and get along.”
In a culture that prizes calm and accommodation, where even drivers in traffic jams rarely honk their horns, people are speaking more vehemently these days — and in louder voices — and they are showing less tolerance for opposing views.
“If you aren’t with them, you’re bad — you’re a bad person,” said a woman at a music shop who was furious with the demonstrators. “Whatever the other side does, even the littlest thing, is just wrong, wrong, wrong. I hate them.”
She said she was afraid to give her name because “they think they can do anything. They think they are above the law.”
A colleague tried to quiet her, but she only raised her voice. “I have a friend, a friend of more than 20 years, she doesn’t talk to me,” she said. “She says, ‘You don’t know anything!’ ”
At the moment, there seems to be no clear resolution of the political crisis or of divisions like this one.
General Anupong has said he does not want to stage a coup because it would only create new problems. Other possible options seem no more likely to bring peace: the prime minister’s resignation, a new election or a violent showdown in the streets between the antigovernment protesters and a new, threatening mobilization of government supporters who have gathered not far away.
The suppression by the police of an antigovernment demonstration outside Parliament on Oct. 7 at which two people were killed and nearly 500 were injured has only swelled the anger of the protesters and given them a symbolic focus.
In its broadest sense, Thailand’s struggle pits the mostly rural poor against an established urban elite and middle class who feel threatened by their rising political power.
The leaders of the protests, an antigovernment coalition called the People’s Alliance for Democracy, represent that establishment. But the protests have become a vehicle for a variety of grievances, and the city at large has fragmented into bitterly divided camps.
The issues are personalized, pitting supporters of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra against his opponents. Mr. Thaksin was ousted in a coup two years ago but remains a powerful, polarizing force from his self-imposed exile in London.
During six years in office, Mr. Thaksin courted the rural poor with populist policies and forged a strong political base that continues to keep his supporters in office. The People’s Alliance for Democracy wants to dilute their electoral power by introducing a mostly appointed legislature.
As the fault lines of confrontation spread through the city, they grow more complex, fragmenting campuses and workplaces, straining friendships and dividing families, and even sometimes turning husbands and wives against one other.
“You have to be careful when you talk to people,” said Samran Chana, 43, a motorcycle taxi driver who is used to talking with everybody. “Thailand is divided. You might be sitting and drinking with some people, and they end up shouting at each other.”
Duan Maringrot, 57, owner of the Louk Pla Noodle Shop, which is on a narrow lane near the business district, says she closes every day at 4 p.m. to attend the demonstration.
Behind the cash register she keeps a shirt that is yellow — the color that represents the king — a plastic clapper to cheer the speeches and a yellow headband that reads, in English, “I love the king.”
If she hears a customer taking the government’s side, she said, “I won’t sell anything to them, and if anyone from the government comes in I won’t serve them.”
In the past when crises descended into bloodshed, the highly revered monarch, King Bhumibol Adulyadej, stepped forward to calm the turmoil. He has no direct political role, but his moral power is enough to bring protest leaders and generals crawling to his feet.
Several people said they were counting on his intervention, if things worsened, to return the country to peace.
“At the end he’ll have to step in and say something,” said Charupa Suthikorn, 40, who owns a toy shop, as she petted a fluffy Pomeranian. “I am waiting to see how he will resolve this. If there is real violence, the king will have to do something.
“It’s like a father looking after his children,” she said. “ ‘I want it like this.’ ‘No, I want it my way.’ If the children don’t stop arguing, the father will have to step in.”
So far, the king has remained silent.
There was a strong Japanese girl there who made many hits. This really put me in my place.