If questions of culture and identity are now returning with a vengeance, then it is time for Singapore to go back to the drawing board and pencil in new doubts.

To avoid past mistakes, let us begin with the premise that there are no cows too sacred to slay. Thus, we must question our most basic assumption: The very idea of “national culture”.

In the past, this has been seen as desirable. Much has been said about the benefits of Singaporean culture — it creates a sense of solidarity between disparate groups of people; it prevents racial riots; it makes us loyal to the nation. The list goes on.

But very little has been voiced about the downside of “national culture”. For a highly pragmatic society, this imbalance is unbecoming. As such, it is my national duty to play the devil’s advocate by postulating two things. First, the Singaporean core is hollow. Secondly, this is not a bad thing. Let us consider each in turn.

RETHINKING THE CORE

On the notion of the Singaporean core, an anecdote springs to mind. I once recommended Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s translated novel, The Fugitive, to a visiting Arab-Israeli friend who wanted to purchase a novel to remind him of South-east Asia.

Days after buying that novel, my literary-minded friend told me that it spoke to him in ways deeper than some Arab and Israeli fictions had. Given that Pramoedya is Indonesian, my friend’s observation suggests to me that there must be something in cultural products that is able to transcend national boundaries.

I am reminded of my own encounter with a foreign novel, Things Fall Apart by the late Nigerian author Chinua Achebe. Despite the discrepancy in time, place and ethnicity, I found myself empathising with the plight of the novel’s protagonist Okonkwo, an Igbo tribe leader whose traditional way of life was threatened by the advent of colonial rule.

The implication of this transnationalism is clear: Neither novel can claim to voice a certain national essence, Indonesian or Nigerian. On the contrary, there appears to be something humanly universal about them.

A NEW CULTURE

Will Singapore be in grave danger if we accept that there is no such thing as a cultural core?

I doubt so. All that we are acknowledging is that while Singapore is shaped by certain contexts, cultural expressions do not indicate, or need to outline, an essence to our society.

In fact, it would be more perilous if we ignore the downside of “national culture”. A re-examination of its two component words, culture and nation, would prove invaluable.

Most critics would say that culture is an evolutionary process. Yet here we are forcing ourselves into a stasis. A Singaporean core could create a citizenry unwilling to change with the times. A case in point: We are almost unable to see beyond the racialised C-I-M-O (Chinese-Indian-Malay-Others) lens in making sense of our society.

Nationalism, meanwhile, is not always benign. The nation works on the recognition of differences between communities such as majority-minority and citizen-foreigner divides.

Taken to the extreme, “national culture” could create an us-versus-them mentality instead of forging solidarity. Already, some of the dissent expressed against the White Paper on population growth can be said to be xenophobic.

If we wish to be inclusionary, perhaps the way forward is to consider culture thematically rather than as values-based. This does not mean that cultural products from Singapore should be ignored.

Imagine a literature module in our education institutions that considers the theme of transitions instead of Singapore literature.

Here, students would be able to enjoy works like Penghulu by the Singaporean author Suratman Makarsan — which narrates the tale of a Malay village headman forced to relocate to a high-rise flat — alongside Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart. Students could compare and contrast the varying ways in which modernisation affects a traditional community.

A thematic approach to culture will not make us less Singaporean. It will teach us that to be Singaporean is to recognise that strange faces and places can be familiar.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Nazry Bahrawi is a research associate at the Middle East Institute, National University of Singapore, and lecturer at the Singapore University of Technology and Design.