Many readers doubtlessly follow the online culture war between Cambodia and Thailand with increasing dismay. Netizens use chauvinistic language to claim that a costume, dance, cuisine or architectural style has its origins in their country.
These comments often lack evidence and resort to clichéd name-calling on a wide variety of online news stories. For instance, I recently wrote a short article for a Singapore-based music platform on the depictions of a Khmer Krom wedding in a Vietnamese pop music video. The video had real potential to raise the visibility of Khmer people living in Vietnam and foster new connections across the borders of Southeast Asia.
Instead, those who commented on Facebook and Instagram dragged the video (and my article) into the culture war. Thai-aligned messages sarcastically thanked the artists for showcasing “Thai culture”. Cambodia-aligned netizens accused the “Thailandogs” of “appropriating Khmer culture”.
Fear drives this online activity. This is a fear that one country’s claim of ownership means another country’s loss. But culture should not be treated as a zero-sum game. Sharing unsubstantiated claims and cruel epithets ignore the beauty of Khmer dance, music and other cultural practices. These salvos have only one casualty — culture itself.
Arguments that certain costumes or musical forms originated in one country or the other fundamentally misunderstand what culture is. According to UNESCO, culture “refers to the collective beliefs, values, customs and practices that characterise a group or society. It encompasses language, art, religion, and social norms, shaping how individuals interact with one another and perceive the world”.
There is no mention of origins. Culture is the contemporary manifestation of past practice to suit the tastes and preferences of the present. Language, art, religion and social norms all change as society and the world change. Culture always changes to survive.
No one can search for an authentic culture in the distant past without being selective and partial. Debates on origin, therefore, are ultimately futile. We cannot possibly trace the shifts and changes of culture over the past century, let alone the past five centuries or one millennium. It takes humility to admit that we do not have a complete view of history and the cultural past.
Rather than battle over origins, netizens eager to support Cambodian culture should focus on what culture exists right now. Identify specific performing arts practices, like Lkhon Khol and mohaori, and seek out videos on Facebook and YouTube to experience them. Instead of attacking anonymous Thai accounts, attend a live performance of Lkhon boran (also known as Lkhon pol srey).
The stewards of these art forms desperately need new audiences. When attending these performances, ask for permission to record and post them online. Make reaction videos on how you connect with them. In the process, you will experience authentic Khmer culture practiced inside of Cambodia. Not even the most entrenched Thai patriot can refute this claim without looking silly.
Once you attend several events, you will begin to appreciate how these practices thrive within local cultural ecosystems. Several weeks ago, my good friend took me to Wat Angkor Ban in Kampong Cham Province to attend the first day of Pchum Ben. Adjacent to the wat is an indigo krama weaving community which was recognised by UNESCO in 2024 as producing intangible cultural heritage of humanity. As my friend and I spoke with ritual participants wearing beautiful krama across their chests, we also encountered several groups of foreign tourists who had arrived by riverboat.
This ecosystem sits at the intersection of craft, religion, and tourism. The notoriety of the weavers brings foreign tourists who purchase krama. The money entering the community is donated to the wat and used to purchase food. This support allows the wat to maintain the buildings and the ritual practices, which then attracts more tourists to view the grounds. Every node in the ecosystem supports the others. This ecosystem is found nowhere else but in Angkor Ban in Cambodia, and there are many others like this in the country.
None of these descriptions of culture require any reduction to origins. Instead, they describe Cambodian culture in the here-and-now and instil a sense of national pride.
This discussion of origins reminds me of a famous article titled “The Death of the Author” by French literary critic Roland Barthes. He argued that scholars too often glorify the intentions of the author at the expense of a community’s interpretation. In a similar way, a single-minded focus on cultural origination ignores the vitality of the communities who contribute to artistry, music, language and ritual.
Focus on the communities that breathe life into cultural ecosystems. Let Cambodian culture resound its own indisputable truth.
Professor Alexander M. Cannon is Professor of Ethnomusicology at the University of Birmingham (UK) who recently started a large research project on decision-making in Lkhon boran and other forms of endangered Khmer artistic practice in Cambodia. The views and opinions expressed are his own.