Over the last several decades, English seems to have taken root in Southeast Asia in a more profound way than ever before. In the olden days, English was a mark of elite status and speakers of local varieties, like Singlish or those with a strong Pinoy accent, faced disdain and bias. While these challenges remain, these days, English is more about middle-class aspirations, especially in Southeast Asian countries like Indonesia and Vietnam, that had little sustained cultural links with the Anglophone world. Now, English in Southeast Asia is as much a class indicator as a ticket to upward mobility.

This double task has contrasting social implications in different countries in Southeast Asia. In countries that traditionally enjoyed greater exposure to English, say, Malaysia and the Philippines, Malay and Filipino enjoy primacy in a way that previous generations of English-speaking Malaysians and Filipinos could only imagine. Arguably, rising prosperity and the national self-confidence it engenders allowed this development. However, that is only part of the story. First published in Coconuts Manila, our first Spotlight article this week further documents another instance of the nationalist impulse against English.

In countries where English is only relatively new (re-introduced), like Indonesia and Myanmar, English serves as a window to the outside world and an avatar of modernity. Just take a look at the proliferation of English phrases on Indonesian ads and English classes in Myanmar. Yet, the challenges English poses to these countries are more subtle.  Students of English in these countries receive privilege instruction from so-called native speakers and their respective cultures to the detriment of applying the language in the local context. This is the main point of our second Spotlight article this week, which first appeared in the Myanmar Frontier.

In all of Southeast Asia, English is a skill highly sought after regardless of social class. Nevertheless, if economic interests are the only thing linking Southeast Asians to English, the language can quickly be uprooted once those interests change. Almost two decades after Singapore set out on its Speak Good English Movement campaign, Singaporeans take increasing pride in Singlish as an informal identity marker. By making English theirs, Singaporeans ensure that English, in some form, will remain an integral part of their country. Elsewhere around the region, the position of English is more tenuous.

As a result, the wider uptake of English in Southeast Asia stands on a mostly instrumental basis, empty of the more sentimental attachment that previous generations may have had toward it. This may be enough for most of our purposes in Southeast Asia, but one aim of learning a world language like English is ensuring we, and the people we communicate with, are on the same page. For that, we will have to make English as our own.