Nationalist fervour has no place in culture

Social-media users in Cambodia are in uproar over a Thai request that the masked-dance form known as khon be registered on Unesco’s Intangible Cultural Heritage List. Khon – usually transliterated as khol in Cambodia – is part of Khmer heritage, they argue. It originated there, not in Thailand.
Once again our countries are squabbling over a fundamentally shared culture, the argument fuelled by nationalist sentiment that rigidly holds not just to a boundary line on a map but more to centuries-old grudges that patriots alone insist on cherishing.
Tension between neighbouring countries is always fraught with danger, but even with this particular row apparently being contained before diplomatic relations suffer, it has the potential to derail efforts on both sides of the border to preserve venerable cultural traditions.
Raising the Khmer flag this time
is television personality Chorn Chanlakhena, who inspired widespread protest with his sabre-rattling posts on Facebook, including a demand that the Cambodian government issue a firm rebuke to Thailand’s perceived affront. The fear is that international recognition of khon as a part of Thai heritage would severely damage khol.
Thus far, thankfully, Thai citizens have not attempted to answer the Cambodian social-media challenge in any great numbers. If that were to happen, the dispute might quickly escalate far beyond the confines of the online sharing networks.
Nor have authorities on either side been lured into the conflict so far. They are instead, again thankfully, trying to play down the dispute. Cambodian officials have actually declared khon and khol fundamentally different dances, and Thai officials have encouraged the Cambodians to seek a matching listing from the United Nations agency.
This is a far cry from politicians being eager to exploit public emotions by stirring up nationalist sentiment, whether to boost their own support or distract voters from dire domestic problems. We can only hope this admirable restraint continues, and that no one utters the dreaded rallying cry “national security”.
Having Unesco ascribe specific arts, crafts and much less tangible aspects of culture to a certain country of origin is of great benefit to that country’s efforts to preserve its traditions. Any dispute that arises defeats the very purpose of cultural promotion. Earning Unesco’s recognition isn’t about “owning” culture but rather safeguarding it.
Cultural heritage around the globe is in danger of becoming extinct because too few people are aware of it and too little funding is available for its preservation and promotion. Aiming to make its list comprehensive, Unesco welcomes submissions of quite similar cultural heritage from separate sources.
On the Korean Peninsula, the traditional fermented-vegetable dish called kimchi is unique to neither North nor South, and surely neither country would attempt to claim it solely. Argentina and Uruguay share a Unesco listing for the tango as their mutual intangible cultural heritage, and possibly other Latin American countries could do the same.
As with many aspects of both Thai and Khmer culture, khon and khol have their roots in India, and to this day the performers depict episodes from the epic Hindu poem the Ramayana. India’s own version of the dance, Ramlila, is already listed with Unesco. Myanmar and Laos also have similar classical dance forms that grew from the same seed.
Culture is not a monolithic monument of steel or concrete. It evolves with the shifting dynamics of its viewers and audiences. It is “intangible” in the sense that it abides in the human mind and heart. Let the flag-waving patriots have their monuments. For more reasonable people, culture can only survive if it’s endlessly shared.