Southeast Asia’s Dress Dispute Exposes Cultural Nationalism’s Raging Global Boil
Cultural appropriation, like political polarization, isn’t new; it’s the speed and scale that have fundamentally changed. Globalization and social media haven’t just amplified the problem, they’ve transformed it from a slow, subtle simmer into a raging boil. The latest eruption is unfolding in Southeast Asia, where a dispute over wedding attire between Thailand and Cambodia is playing out on the world stage via UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage process. At its surface, it’s about dresses and designations, but beneath the embroidery lies a complex web of history, nationalism, and the struggle to define identity in a world increasingly defined by its own disintegration. Khaosod reports that Cambodia’s submission of Khmer wedding traditions for UNESCO recognition has sparked outrage among Thai nationalist groups who claim the attire resembles traditional Thai clothing.
This isn’t just about dresses. It’s about power: who gets to define what a culture is, and who gets to claim ownership of it. And, crucially, who benefits from that definition and ownership. The economic and political stakes are often obscured by appeals to cultural purity, but they are always present. The Permanent Secretary of Thailand’s Ministry of Culture, Prasop Riangngern, has attempted to calm the waters, clarifying that Cambodia’s proposal focuses solely on Khmer traditions, a move emphasizing UNESCO’s rigorous evaluation process. Meanwhile, Thailand is pursuing its own UNESCO recognition for “Chud Thai” to ensure their national dress receives international validation. The underlying current is clear: nations are increasingly using cultural heritage as a tool of soft power, a way to project influence and assert national identity on the global stage, and to secure a seat at the table where global cultural norms are negotiated.
The core of the problem lies in the illusion of fixed cultural boundaries. As Clifford Geertz argued, culture is not simply a set of objects or practices but a system of meaning woven from shared experiences, histories, and interpretations. Thailand and Cambodia share long and intertwined histories, including periods of both conflict and cooperation. Consider the Angkor Empire, which, for centuries, exerted influence over much of mainland Southeast Asia, including parts of modern-day Thailand. The cultural landscape has always been porous, with ideas and practices flowing freely across borders. In a globalized world, this fluidity is increasingly seen as a threat rather than an asset, as if cultural influence is a zero-sum game.
Consider the “Kebaya” costume. The joint proposal submitted to UNESCO by Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Brunei, and Thailand is a stark contrast to the Thai/Cambodian discord. This illustrates a willingness to collaborate on shared cultural heritage. The contrast, however, highlights the complexities inherent in cultural exchange; while harmonious cooperation is possible, so is heated rivalry. The success of “Kebaya” reveals a template that can be achieved through collaboration, providing a pathway that can be taken by Thailand and Cambodia in future ventures.
Zooming out, the Thai-Cambodian dress debate is symptomatic of a larger trend: the rise of cultural nationalism in the face of globalization. As nations grapple with the erosion of traditional boundaries and the increasing homogenization of culture, they often turn inward, seeking to define and protect their unique identities. This can lead to a zero-sum mentality, where cultural influence is seen as a finite resource to be fought over. It’s a symptom, too, of the anxieties produced by rapid economic and social change, as societies grapple with the question of what remains constant in a world of constant flux.
The digital realm intensifies these battles. Social media platforms provide fertile ground for nationalist sentiments to take root and spread rapidly. As evidenced by the online insults exchanged between Thai and Cambodian tourists, cultural appropriation becomes a weapon in the hands of online warriors, amplifying historical grievances and creating a toxic environment of suspicion and hostility. It’s not just that social media accelerates the spread of these conflicts, but it also distorts their nature, turning complex historical grievances into simplistic, easily digestible memes designed to inflame passions rather than promote understanding.
“Southeast Asian history traditionally valued population over territory. While this approach won’t eliminate all conflicts, it reduces conditions that lead to division. For lasting peace—not just between Thailand and Cambodia, but throughout Southeast Asia—we must persist in these efforts despite the challenges.”
This quote from writer and journalist Sujit Wongthes offers an alternative: “kinship history,” which emphasizes people and relationships over territorial claims. He correctly notes that the colonial era introduced rigid concepts of nation-state history. The traditional Southeast Asian approach prioritized population over strict territorial control. This focus fosters a sense of shared identity rooted in human connection rather than fixed geographic boundaries. This could mitigate division. But, this approach requires a radical rethinking of how we understand sovereignty and cultural ownership, a willingness to see national borders as porous and national identities as fluid.
This framework shifts the focus from “ownership” to “stewardship.” It recognizes that cultural heritage is a living, evolving thing, shaped by countless contributions over time. Instead of seeking to control or define it, the goal becomes to nurture and preserve it for future generations, while acknowledging the complex and often intertwined histories that have shaped it. This stewardship demands something more than simply preserving the past, it demands a continuous re-interpretation of the past in light of the present.
Ultimately, the Thai-Cambodian dress debate is a reminder that culture is not a possession, but a process. It is a conversation, a negotiation, a constant reimagining of who we are and how we relate to the world. And in a world of increasing interconnectedness, but also increasing division, the stakes of that conversation are higher than ever. Navigating these complex waters requires diplomacy, empathy, and a willingness to embrace the messiness of cultural exchange. Only then can we move beyond the zero-sum game of cultural nationalism and towards a more inclusive and collaborative vision of cultural heritage, a vision that acknowledges the inherent contradictions and complexities of a world constantly in flux.
