There is a museum that opened in Bangkok around a decade ago called the Museum Siam (some people call it the Discovery Museum). It was designed by Thai academics (and some very famous ones).
It was meant to be “cutting edge” in its use of multimedia and in the ways that it allowed for an “interactive” experience. However, technology has changed so fast that it now does not necessarily feel that way.
Nonetheless, there is one way in which this museum was meant to be cutting-edge that does still feel that way, and that is in the message that the museum presents to visitors.
What this museum wants its Thai visitors to do, is to question who they are. And in particular, it wants them to question the nationalist representation/interpretation of Thailand and “Thainess” that they have learned in schools and through the media.
When you enter the museum, the first thing you do is to watch a video that is projected onto a curved screen. I wish the museum would post that video on YouTube because it is a fascinating video.
In any case, the screen shot above comes from a video that some private person made about the museum, but the questions that this person has put in the film are exactly the kind of questions that the museums asks its visitors.
Looking for real Thainess.
Everyone talks about true Thainess.
Everyone thinks they know what it means.
How real is true Thainess?
What on earth does it mean?
As one then walks through the museum, one is confronted with information that challenges the idea that there is an “essence” or something “whole” that we can call “Thai-ness.”
As nationalism took hold in Thailand in the 20th century, an early kingdom called Sukhothai was “imagined” as the origin of the “Thai nation.” This was truly something that (Westernized) Thai in the 20th century imagined, and in the Museum Siam, Sukhothai is not even mentioned.
This brings me to the “Bronze Drum Museum” that I referred to in the title of this post. As far as I know, there is no such museum, but if one were to be created right now, could it be made like the Museum Siam?
Could one have a history museum in Vietnam and not mention Văn Lang (like the Museum Siam does not mention Sukhothai)? Could a museum in Vietnam ask the same questions of its visitors that the Museum Siam does?
Looking for real Việt-ness.
Everyone talks about true Việt-ness.
Everyone thinks they know what it means.
How real is true Việt-ness?
What on earth does it mean?
I think that this would be impossible, so I ask such questions on this blog. And like the academics who created the Museum Siam in Bangkok, I’m not a spy for a foreign country, I don’t have a political motive, and I’m not trying to destroy a society (and, by the way, Thai nationalism is still alive and well in Thailand ten years after that museum opened its doors. . .).
The only thing that is happening in the Museum Siam and on this blog is that intelligent people (well I might not fit in that category, but. . .) are asking other intelligent people to think. And in both cases, it’s clear that intelligent people like being asked to think.
So let’s all keep thinking together.
All good questions that raise more.
Can one measure or compare Thai-ness and Việt-ness?
How deep is the depth of a culture’s identity?
Do you simply measure by years?
By lack of conflict or inter-ethnic struggle?
Or by standardized testing?
I envision a larger, living museum of sorts – a place that puts us in touch with our Human-ness, but that is another topic.
All good questions too.
As for your “larger vision,” I’d like to see a museum that puts us in touch with our primate-ness, but that is another topic too.
Thanks for the comment.
reading along your blogs, I don’t know why you are not tired of “nationalism” 😛
I am VERY VERY VERY tired of talking about nationalism!! If I could chose, then I would spend my time writing and thinking about the other things that I post on this blog (20th century pop culture in Southeast Asia, life on Borneo in the early 20th century. . .).
The bronze drum stuff I wrote about recently brought out various comments on Facebook. One thing that is very clear from those comments is that people do not agree on who the Viet are, how we should identify such a group of people, and when such a group of people emerged in the past.
It’s 2013 and people still don’t have a solid understanding of who the Viet are. Meanwhile thousands upon thousands of books and articles have been written about the Viet. . .
Why is it that people aren’t sure? It’s because of nationalism. Nationalism has demanded that people view the Viet uncritically as a “nation/nationality” that has existed since the first millennium BC.
To me this is an enormous problem. I don’t see how I (or anyone) can engage in research on a topic when we don’t even have a clear sense of who the people we are researching are. Shouldn’t we first at least try to figure out who it is that we are talking about?
So this then relates back to the “scholarship of destruction.” I’m not alone in thinking that there are problems with the ways in which previous scholars have depicted who the Viet are. Why aren’t other people trying to “destroy” the problematic aspects of earlier scholarship, and “reconstruct” something more insightful.
Is it because other people engage in a tradition of scholarship that does not follow the style of the “scholarship of destruction”? If so, what are the benefits of that approach?
I think the current situation is one which fits the English-language expression “the elephant in the room” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephant_in_the_room
Nationalism is “the elephant in the room.” It is something that has an enormous influence on our understanding of the Vietnamese past – so much so that it hasn’t allowed scholars to even talk about who the Viet are in a critical manner for many years – but people don’t want to deal with it.
So instead of talking about the elephant, people talk about other things (individual texts, foreign trade etc.).
But there is an elephant standing right here in the room!! Shouldn’t we do something about that elephant?!! Wouldn’t the elephant be a lot happier if it could run off into the jungle? And wouldn’t scholars be happier if they had more space in their room? And most importantly, wouldn’t this enable all of us to come to more sophisticated understandings of the past?
That’s where I think it all leads – to a more sophisticated understanding of the past. And that’s what I think every historian should aim for. I just don’t think it’s impossible when the elephant of nationalism is in the same room with us.
So yes, I’m very very tired of talking about nationalism, but I’m also very very tired of living in the same room with an elephant. I simply cannot see how living with an elephant and engaging in scholarship can be possible.