The Arts and National Revival

Ref: What can young Cambodians do to preserve our Kingdom’s classical culture?


“មិត្តទាំងពីរ[មិត្តទាំងប្រាំ!]មានមុខស្រស់ស្អាតណាស់
បើលោកតាស៊ីន ស៊ីសាមុតនៃយើងគាត់នៅរស់
គាត់នឺងច្រៀងចំអន់ដោយស្រឡាញ់ថា
តើធ្វើម្ដេចនឹងភ្លេចភ័ក្ត្រមានមន្តស្នេហ៌
ដូចដួងខែរះពេញរស្មីពេលញញឹមសង្ឃឹម
ជាប់ក្នុងហឫទ័យឱយអាល័យៗគ្មានស្បើយ!!”


ក្រពុំ ឈូក ស

Un Penh Sam Ath Panha, 19, second-year Law student at Royal University of Law and Economics 

“I’ve loved classical art since I was young and I’m a former classical dancing student. I promote the arts by telling others about the advantages it provides. To promote youth interest, the Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport should add more hours devoted to the study of arts in school schedules. In addition, schools could start organising art contests in order to catch young Cambodians’ attention and encourage participation in the arts.”

“Srey Sros Pros Saart” - Sinn Sisamouth & Ros Sereysothea 

“Neak Srai Yul Nheat” - Ros Serey Sothea & Eung Nary 

by School of Vice

Well, Lok Ta Sinn Sisamouth [and those talented pre-war song-writers who - I am led to believe - composed many of his songs would have done just that. These singers and song writers had been the unsung heroes and heroines of Cambodia. The poetry, the verses, the cultured choice of lyrics and vocabulary had been the product of refinement and extraction from within the wealth-pool of Khmer literature, the richness of Khmer life and universe comparable to the quarrying for gold dust and precious stones out of a vast mineral mine. It is quite possible for post-war generations to imagine what life might have been like in this period of creativity and general cultural renaissance without having to attribute that trend to any political climate or patterns of the day, just as it would be presumptuous or even arrogant to attribute all signs of social progress – if any – within the last three decades to politicians alone, for this implies the absence of sacrifice and labour of ordinary people who have had to rebuild their own lives often in the most difficult of circumstances, and in spite of official indifference, incompetence and, indeed, debilitating corruption. Of course, not all officials are “corrupt” or “incompetent” per se, and their quiet input and contribution should be appreciated and acknowledged. From what I know the late Chut Wutty is one such individual who had emerged out of this social political landscape, and his personal loss is more an indictment of this ingrained Cambodian elitism that places impossible premium on humanity, collective sense of service to society and the nation as well as upon individuals’ inability or refusal to conform to the priorities and agenda of that odious, myopic elitism rather than any defects on his part as a caring, courageous patriot. The rarity of this crop of individuals represents the real gold dusts and gems of Khmer society manifesting forth for all the world to see out of the dark tunnels and threatening mine fields of Khmer life, and their personal examples must be held up for all Cambodians to aspire to, if only for their own long term security and well-being.

Now back to Sin Sisamouth and those poets! Yes, what I was getting at is the cultural climate that formed the backdrop to their arts and creativity [including the achievements in other artistic fields such as the cinema and living classical arts], and the priceless legacy they have left in our trust. There is more to this legacy than mere indulgence in romantic ‘sentimentalism’ [or in School of Vice’s case, incurable melancholy, for which he blames those pre-war poets!] and bourgeois hedonism; something that had been seized upon by those “communist” indoctrinators in their “class struggle” against the ‘old regime’. It was a simple but effective means by which the masses had been told as to the causes and meanings of their collective misery, necessitated by that psychological need in humans to find outlets for perceived injustices they had to endure. Once the Buddha and Karma had been taken out of the equation in people’s minds, it was logical to point to the “American imperialists and their lackeys” as well as to the culture of “decadence” visibly represented by the entire artistic community. So systematic and effective had been the use of this indoctrination tactic that many Khmer Rouge soldiers and cadres who came into contact with civilians would openly express their desire to ‘kill’ such artists who were then part of the defeated camp as though there was no moral doubt whatsoever in their own minds that these stalwarts of culture had been an anathema to their own existence and the cause of their country’s decline, and as some still point out today in similar social national context that some people still find the time to “sing and dance” whilst the country burns! And these critics are right too, to an extent, yet one is not quite convinced that in their implied criticism they give due weight to proportions, or whether they are simply [perhaps, deliberately?] repeating that old dividing tactic that had proved so destructive to the preservation of Khmer identity and culture, to humanity and prospects for national continuity and survival. Do they understand that art is as much about conserving collective memory as they are about ceremonies which require movement and participation; one singing and another listening etc.? Do Khmer people ‘circle dance’ merely for the sake of pleasure or as a form of exercise, or do they do so for other reasons as well, such as commemorating an event in their community or bonding themselves with others? [Nothing is more symbolic of this bonding process than the repeated circling movement of the dance itself known as Rom Vong, as a wedding ring is of married life].

Wars and revolutions had often proved destructive to culture and society, and none in history had been more so than those radical movements mankind had witnessed from since the Russian revolution at the turn of the twentieth century, an event which led to the procrastination of Russia’s cultural life [in the same fashion as witnessed by the Cambodian nation in the 1970s] and which led - among others - the prominent, world-famous Russian composer Sergey Rachmaninov to bemoan the great haemorrhage the ‘revolution’ exacted on his native country’s cultural life. What good is it to a man if he gains the entire world but forfeits his own soul?  This unsettling truth seems to confront many who share in Rachmaninov’s humanity and his love of the arts. If we listen to these “old” Khmer songs “carefully” [I shouldn’t be asking people to do this; it would be like trying to draw a bar chart showing one’s level of enjoyment of poetry in proportion to the effectiveness or ‘power’ and appeal of specific poems, and I had seen one or two of these graphs drawn up by academics in my time!] we will find plenty of references to localities, villages, mountains, ancestral spirits of the land [the “nektas”], simplicity, rural life, humour, moral fables, self-sacrifice, place names, most of Cambodia’s provinces [why most? Has anyone noticed the frequent references to Battambang province, and less so to other central and north-western places? East of the Mekong only Kompong Cham province get a fair mention, and only Ms Ros Serei Sothea ever mentioned Prey Veng in a song! And yes “Rumdoul Kroches” – Kratie – apart I have yet to hear any reference to Svay Rieng or Stung Treng, and Rattanakiri et al!] the assumptions to do with being “Khmer”, the scenes of daily life of happiness and loss, of promise, fidelity and betrayal, and of course, the charm and beauty of flora and fauna, not to mention the allure and captivating charm of Khmer women who even found their way into a CIA report on Cambodia! [No wonder - you might add - the Americans lost the war in Indochina!].

In brief, these artists had done far more for their people and nation than they are given credit for. What people experience at the cinema or through listening to music has the power to influence and shape their feelings and perceptions of the external world way beyond perhaps their own awareness or consciousness of that influence. Even totalitarian regimes would not be prepared to abolish the medium of cinema or music entirely: they only find it proper – and expedient - to fashion that medium to fit in with their ideological agenda. The only difference appears to be the fact that those great exponents of Khmer culture of the past consciously sought to instil in public consciousness linkages between popular art and national cultural identity, hence, the frequent references to the virtue of being ‘Khmer’, or the pride in “Khmer-ness” which might sound like an exercise in promoted racialism to some, but there had probably in truth been no conscious intent in that direction. As pioneers of what has come to be coined “Khmerisation”, their goal had been far more cultural than political or racist, and indeed more immediately relevant to the needs of their compatriots, especially when one examines Cambodia’s dismal historical losses in all fields; losses from which society can take decades to recover, and probably several generations more to reach and attain the height of its cultural potential once more, just as Angkor civilisation had been the summation of pre-Angkorian evolution in Khmer history of several hundred years.

What is concerning is that “art” and artists in general still consistently lack behind other professions in public estimation and esteem. Thus whereas many people of all ages enjoy the cinema, soap drama, classical dance and the like, it is far from being true that they approve of any of these as wholesome, acceptable forms of occupation for their own kin or children, and this frowning attitude can be said to be particularly true in relations to women – particularly, if the said profession exposes them to being harassed and molested to no end by pot-belly generals and excellencies!

The status accorded to the arts and artists in general is in congruence with the public’s level of education or exposure to the arts that does the role of conditioning and informing them of the importance and indispensability of the healthy existence of art as such, even if they personally do not derive much pleasure out of it – we cannot assume for instance that everyone appreciates or enjoys listening to music per se! Thus, we find that today’s better educated youths are perhaps more inclined to recognise the value of, or express appreciation for, the “old” artistic culture and a desire to safeguard this heritage. Perhaps, the present age of mass media and mass marketing might change people’s attitude for the better, or improve people’s earning potential in the entertainment industry, but the social barriers many artists still face here [some of the country’s best known artists still dwell in appalling urban slums] are probably no greater than the daily obstacles faced by others like the late Chut Wutty, along with many countless campaigners and concerned individuals who steadfastly put the interests of the many before those of the privileged few.