Anna and the King Articles - Page 2
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History is never absolutely objective or totally false
While there are people who may love to banish all historically distorted descriptions of Siam or Thailand, there also exist people who think it would immensely benefit the tourism industry. Now that the proposed movie Anna and the King by Twentieth Century Fox will be under review by the film board for the final time next week, the Thai public should look beyond the fuss and feuds surrounding the issue. There are some aspects of the issue that are more important than whether the film is shot in Thailand or not.
First, there are indeed many things we could learn from the original The English Governess at the Siamese Court being Recollections Of Six Years [sic] In The Royal Palace At Bangkok, written in 1870 by Anna Harriette Leonowens, which later inspired Broadway plays and films. Consider these two passages from the book as examples.
''I was thankful to find, even in this citadel of Buddhism, men, and above all women, who were 'lovely in their lives', who, amid infinite difficulties, in the bossom of a most corrupt society, and enslaved to a capricious and often cruel will, yet devoted themselves to an earnest search after truth. On the other hand, I have to confess with sorrow and shame, how far we, with all our boasted enlightenment, fall short, in true nobility and piety, of some of our ''benighted'' sisters of the East. With many of them, Love, Truth, and Wisdom are not merely synonymous but 'living gods', for whom they long with lively ardour, and, when found, embrace with joy'' (p.VII)
At first some Thais may be insulted and outraged by Anna's description of Siam as ''a most corrupt society''. While it is uncertain whether Siam then was corrupt or not, most Thais today are well aware how rampant is corruption in Thailand. She also mentioned the hypocrisy of the West which had fallen short in such areas as nobility (good breeding) and piety. This lack of nobility and piety, from past to present, can by itself be a topic for major research. While some people may not like this portrayal of the Siamese as the 'benighted' sisters of the East we should note that Anna also stated that Thai people then were devoted to ''an earnest search after truth''. In today's Thailand, how many really care about the search for truth?
In the second passage, Anna described her first contact with a senior Siamese mandarin on the banks of the Chao Phraya river as follows:
''Before long a shadowy gondola, fashioned like a dragon, with flashing torches and many paddles, approached... Every Asiatic on deck, coolies and all, prostrates himself... The captain stepped forward and introduced us. 'His Excellency Chow Phya Sri Sury Wongse, Prime Minister of the Kingdom of Siam!' ''Half naked as he was, and without an emblem to denote rank, there was yet something remarkable about this native chief, by virtue of which he compelled our respect from the first glance, a sensibly magnetic quality of tone or look. With an air of command oddly at variance with his almost indecent attire, of which he seemed superbly unconscious, he beckoned to a young attendant, who crawled to him as a dog crawls to an angry master...'' (p.8-9)
Again, most Thais may feel offended as our Siamese leader was ''half naked'' and ''almost indecent'' in his attire. However, it must be noted that Anna also acknowledges the ''air of command'' that Chow Phya Sri Sury Wongse had, despite the fact that he had no emblem denoting his rank. Today, Thai men lack confidence and feel so uncivilised if they are not properly equipped with suit and tie. In fact some critics who oppose Anna's accounts of history and blame the West for looking down upon Thais as barbarians or savages, always wear a tie, if not a suit and tie. Others feel insecure without their Mercedes sedans or their Versace shirts.
Can we then say that the two passages (and there are many more in the book) cannot teach us anything, and that it must be neglected and kept in a closet? Now, people will say the Broadway plays, and the various versions of past films, elevate the distortion to yet another height; that King Mongkut was portrayed as ''foolish'' and ''cruel''. Yes perhaps. But consider this. In a letter to Prasit Damrongchai, vice president of the Film Board of Thailand, on Oct 19, Fox's Andy Tennant, Lawrence Bender, and Terence Clegg offered to clarify erroneous characterisations and stated that ''this project represents an extraordinary opportunity for all of us to glorify the memory of King Mongkut.''
The Concise Oxford Dictionary defines the adjective glorified as ''seeming or pretending to be more splendid than in reality''. The same dictionary defines distort as ''misrepresent''. Is glorification a kind of distortion, even if it is done out of goodwill? If so, is it inherently good or bad? Distortion can come both in the form of an insult, and at the other extreme, in the form of glorification. While most Thais are angry that King Mongkut was being misrepresented and portrayed as ''foolish'', they are happily engaged in a similar act but at the other extreme -- over-glorifying our past leaders.
But there are prices to be paid. First, Thai history remains very much that of glorification of national leaders with little space for the common people. Period. Second, it can breed nepotism, patronage system and more. People like Ferdinand E Marcos of the Philippines, former President Suharto of Indonesia were once surrounded by ''yes'' men (and women) who over-glorified them.
While we hear all the fuss about distortion, we hear no complaints about over-glorification. How funny! Distortion or glorification, both are exaggerations. Given the internal situation, how best to express gratitude to a benign ruler? Distortion and glorification are likely to be a part of Thai society for a long time to come. Mike Moder, Vice President of Feature Production of Twentieth Century Fox, wrote to Prasit admitting that King Mongkut was portrayed ''foolishly'' in the past versions of The King and I. Moder then promised to ''set the record straight'' once and for all and to ''do it right'' by making it a ''movie that will live in history as a true representation of Thailand.'' That is easier said than done.
Norman Davies, a respected historian and author of Europe: A History [Oxford University Press] (arguably the first major attempt at portraying Europe that does justice to Eastern Europe as well as to the various ethnic groups in both Western and Eastern parts of Europe) puts it this way: ''Distortion is a necessary characteristic of all sources of information. Absolute objectivity is absolutely unattainable.'' This implies that distortion is already a daily occurrence, so let us not distort things or people much further.
So instead of cultivating a xenophobic, over protective or father-knows-best mentality, Thais should confront various forms of history (and thus distortions) in the manner of people searching for truth and understanding. From Anna's book, and from the related plays and films, we can learn about the bias of the Victorian era, further debate about what it was really like during the reign of King Mongkut, and seek to discover and understand all the shortcomings and distortions. What we need is to be aware of such tendencies and face them with understanding, with a grain of salt, knowing that truth doesn't come easily.
But instead of embarking on an earnest search after truth, as Anna once did, today's Thais have remained contented saying only nice things to each other. Too nice to be true, perhaps.
Struggling with our psychological shrapnel
The debate over Anna and the King just shows how deeply embedded are some psychological shrapnel in Thais, says The Nation's Pravit Rojanaphruk in the second of a two-part article.
ONE of the reasons why there has been so much fuss over the proposed Anna and the King film is that many Thais feel that King Mongkut and his Thai subjects were portrayed in earlier versions as ''barbaric, half savage, half naked, benighted and uncivilised''. They want no repetition.
That Thais feel that the revered King Mongkut was being ''put down'' is one reason. The issue of the monarchy is highly sensitive in Thailand. The ''psychological shrapnel'' is still embedded in our bodies. We still resent being judged as barbaric and uncivilised. The films are like the x-ray machines at the airport; the shrapnel sets of the alarm. Regarding someone as being barbaric, savage or uncivilised has become unfashionable, if not politically incorrect. In 1949, with colonisation on the decline, US President Harry Truman told the world that ''the old imperialism -- exploitation for foreign profit -- has no place in our plan.''
The plan was to launch the new era of ''development''. No longer shall people and nations be judged as barbaric; instead they will be condemned as underdeveloped or developing, as many prefer to call themselves.
But, since the reign of King Mongkut, Thais have been trying hard to be accepted by the West as ''civilised''. We began to copy European (and later Americans) fashions so that no one can refer to us as uncivilised or half-naked. We also abolished slavery and polygamy (the latter was less successful; mia noi or minor wives are still common). And we adopted the ways of the West: the elite, the nouveau riche and the middle classes embraced the concept with enthusiasm.
Government House, the office of the prime minister, is of Venetian Baroque style and contains many neogothic motifs. It was built in classical Roman style, reminiscent of the grandeur of Rome's St Peter's Basilica, London's St Paul's Cathedral and Queen Victoria's Monument in Calcutta. Carrara marble was imported from Italy, along with granite, reinforcing iron and window frames. The bronze came from Germany; the textiles from England.
The houses of the nouveau riche and middle classes, the shopping malls today boast doric, ionic or corinthian columns; they are beautifully built. Few Thais, however, understand their meaning.
As a nation, we were too busy racing to become ''developed'' to bother attending to the old (but still existing) psychological shrapnel of ''civilisation-versus-barbarism''. We are only reminded of its existence when movies like Anna and The King hit a collective sore spot. We have to face up to the old prejudices and try to understand. What really makes one civilised, as opposed to being barbaric? Is it what we wear, what we know, who we listen to and follow? Or all of the above?
''Civilisation,'' wrote Oscar Wilde ''is not by any means an easy thing to attain. There are only two ways by which a man can reach it. One is by being cultured, the other by being corrupt.'' Earlier this century, Japanese scholar Okakura Kakuzo lamented about the loss of civilisation. ''[The West] was wont to regard Japan as barbarous while she indulged in the gentle arts of peace. [It] calls her civilised since she began to commit wholesale slaughter on Manchurian fields... Fain would we remain barbarians, if our claim to civilisation were to be based on the gruesome glory of war. Fain would we await the time when due respect shall be paid to our arts and ideals.''
Nevertheless, at the height of the imperial era, the West was convinced the oriental people could not govern themselves. Edward W Said pointed out the arrogance in the West's belief -- that there was a need for non-Europeans to be ''dominated by a race that knows them and what is good for them better than they could possibly know themselves.'' Whatever civilisation (and barbarism) may be, we cannot just ignore it. Unfortunately, Thais do not even realise how relevant it is for their present and future. But this psychological shrapnel, itself a remnant of the colonial era, will not go away.
In a way, we have become what we detest. We think we know what is best for the hilltribes in the North; the Moken (sea gypsies) in the South. We think we know what should be done for the poor, rural folk, the illiterate. And in turn the IMF, the World Bank and many Western governments (and that of Japan) believe they know what is best for us. Thais think they know what is best for Burma, Cambodia, Laos and so on.
It is difficult enough to discover what is good for oneself, not to mention others. With all kinds of layers of pretension, hypocrisy, entertainment, PR image making, advertising and consumerism that have become part of Thai culture, it has become even harder for one to discover oneself. It is unrealistic to expect that by throwing away Western cultural layers and embracing the local and traditional ideals, Thais will gain cultural autonomy. That is because there is another conflict: the struggle for autonomy in the way we think. We have to question the Aristotlian logic of either/or; the notions of unlimited growth, happiness and consumerism.
Failing to take note of this, our current struggle for economic sovereignty will merely be a battle for who will control and manage resources. But whether it is the Thais or the foreigners who emerge victorious, there won't be much difference in their ways of thinking. And more importantly, we have to try to coordinate our head and heart and lead our life accordingly.
It's quite clear today that Thais have quickly dispensed with traditional clothing, architecture and much more besides, so as to appear 'civilised'. We are also sacrificing our natural resources, our traditional way of life and even our independence in the name of development. While many of the Thai elite have benefitted materially, the same cannot be said for the vast majority of people.
''What does development mean to me?'' asked Sinith Sittirak, author of The Daughters of Development: Women in a Changing Environment. Her answer: ''Neo-colonialism and consumerism -- these are the first two critical meanings of 'development' that I discovered... What Thais have received from development is deforestation, polluted rivers and large numbers of poor and prostitutes. For me, tracing back along this trail of development in Thailand gave me a much clearer picture of neo-colonisation.''
The sooner we come to terms with these pieces of psychological shrapnel the better. For the time being, Thais who recognise the shrapnel and try to wrestle with it face a fate similar to that described by Matthew Arnold. ''Wandering between two worlds, one dead, the other powerless to be born. Without nowhere yet to rest my head, like these, on earth I wait forlorn.''
But we cannot just wait.