SINGAPORE — When King Charles III of the United Kingdom and French President Emmanuel Macron recently viewed the Bayeux Tapestry together at the British Museum, it might have appeared to be little more than two leaders admiring an ancient work of art. Yet the occasion carried considerable diplomatic significance.
The roughly 70-meter-long embroidered tapestry, produced in the 11th century, depicts the Norman conquest of England in 1066. William, Duke of Normandy, crossed the English Channel, defeated King Harold at Hastings and became William the Conqueror. Nearly a millennium later, King Charles III is himself a descendant of that Norman royal lineage.
There is an obvious irony. The tapestry is closely associated with Normandy in France, yet the story it depicts is fundamental to Britain’s own political history. It records warfare, conquest and a dramatic transfer of power. Today, however, it is helping two former rivals place their complicated past within a more constructive present. France’s decision to lend the tapestry to Britain, alongside reciprocal loans of other important artifacts, shows that museums can sometimes serve purposes beyond preservation.
The implications for Southeast Asia are worth considering. Here too, history rarely fits neatly within today’s national borders. The maritime trading networks of the archipelagic world, the history of Malacca, Angkor Wat, Borobudur and the Philippines’ layered Spanish and American heritage all reflect centuries of movement, interaction and outside influence.
That complexity can be both an asset and a liability. When historical legacies are viewed exclusively through national lenses, monuments and artifacts can become symbols of ownership and pride, sometimes producing rivalry where there should be curiosity. Yet the same heritage can encourage cooperation if countries are prepared to acknowledge that cultures have developed through interaction rather than in isolation.
Southeast Asia has considerable scope to do this through joint exhibitions, reciprocal museum loans, collaborative research, educational exchanges and regional heritage tourism. Such initiatives need not produce a single authorized interpretation of history. Different countries will naturally remember events differently. The objective should instead be to make room for those differences while recognizing the connections that preceded the modern nation-state.
The Bayeux Tapestry itself illustrates why this matters. It was created in a Europe whose political geography bore little resemblance to today’s map. The Normans who conquered England had themselves emerged from centuries of interaction between Scandinavian settlers and the peoples of northern France. The tapestry subsequently became part of the historical imagination of both countries.
Southeast Asia offers an even richer example. Long before the emergence of modern states, merchants moved between the Malay peninsula, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, the Philippines and mainland Southeast Asia. Indian, Chinese, Arab and European influences were absorbed and adapted locally. The resulting regional civilization is interconnected without being uniform.
Modern nationalism need not erase this complexity, just as regionalism need not erase national identity. The more sensible objective is to allow both to coexist.
This is relevant to Asean’s longer-term ambitions. Asean centrality is usually discussed in strategic terms — its ability to convene major powers and shape the regional security architecture — and economically, through trade, investment and supply-chain integration. But a regional community also depends on people knowing something about one another beyond official meetings and economic statistics.
Cultural and educational exchanges can help provide that foundation, particularly for younger generations. A Malaysian student visiting an Indonesian historical site, a Filipino learning about the maritime networks that connected the archipelago to the wider archipelagic world, or Cambodian and Thai scholars examining a contested period together may acquire a more nuanced understanding of their neighbors than political rhetoric alone can provide.
Heritage tourism could likewise be conceived on a more regional scale. Malacca, Penang, Aceh, Singapore and parts of the Philippines, for example, can be understood not merely as separate destinations but as interconnected chapters in the history of maritime Asia. Presenting them in this way would not diminish national attractions; it could give them greater context and meaning.
None of this should be romanticized. Britain and France may now be close partners, but they continue to disagree over trade, migration, defense and European affairs. Southeast Asian countries likewise pursue different national interests and compete economically.
Nor can an exhibition or a museum loan settle a territorial disagreement. But cultural engagement can create habits of contact and understanding that remain valuable when governments encounter more difficult questions.
There is also a broader lesson about the political use of history. Governments and political movements often invoke the past to establish legitimacy, justify claims or reinforce national narratives. Selective memory can be powerful — and sometimes dangerous.
History, however, can be approached differently. Rather than asking only who was right, who was wrong, or who owns a particular legacy, we can ask how societies influenced one another and what those encounters produced.
For Southeast Asia, this is particularly important. Virtually every country in the region has experienced some combination of migration, trade, conquest, colonization and cultural exchange. Recognizing that complexity need not weaken national identity. On the contrary, it can produce a more mature understanding of what national identity actually means.
The Bayeux Tapestry therefore offers a lesson extending beyond Britain and France. An artifact born out of conquest can acquire a very different significance centuries later. The meaning of heritage is not necessarily fixed by the circumstances in which it was created.
Southeast Asia could take a similar approach to its own remarkable cultural inheritance. Rather than treating historical heritage principally as property to be guarded from neighbors, countries could regard it as something to be studied, preserved and, where appropriate, experienced together.
The past cannot be changed. But the way societies choose to remember and use it certainly can.
Borders may divide states, but culture has a habit of crossing them. A tapestry woven nearly a thousand years ago is a timely reminder that the region’s own ancient connections are not merely relics of history. They can still contribute to education, tourism, mutual understanding and, ultimately, a stronger Southeast Asian community.
