But the widespread discussion it has stirred, even in Singapore, suggests more than the excitement that usually surrounds such stars. It reflects a deeper concern about the direction in which society is heading.

This is not new. The Taiping Rebellion, which shook 19th century China, reflected the conviction of those who believed that progress demanded erasure of the national past. Influenced by Christianity - which was modern and western - they destroyed Taoist and Buddhist temples, and persecuted Confucian scholars.

Since every action has a reaction, the Boxer movement sought to defend tradition. It was aimed against Christian converts, and those who wore western clothes and used western implements. The Boxers practised traditional martial arts and used ancient Chinese weapons.

There is a message in the fact that the movement was crushed by a huge force of American, Russian, British, Japanese and other troops. Even if the western powers thought they were restoring stability, the far-reaching implication of their action was to uphold internationalisation - today's globalisation - over national exclusiveness.

India did not experience such a violent clash, but elements were present in the 1857 war of independence. It was more marked in the 19th century debate between Anglophiles and Sinophiles over whether education should be in English or an Indian language.

The former won because though the leaders of Indian society did not go so far as the Taiping rebels and embrace a foreign faith, they were convinced that social and economic progress could only come through foreign education. No one demurred, therefore, when historian Lord Macaulay prescribed an Indian education system to create 'a class of persons, Indian in blood and colour, but English in taste, in opinions, in morals and in intellect'.

Only such cultural hybrids - a definition embracing most educated contemporary Asians and all Singaporeans - could be trusted 'to refine the vernacular dialects of the country, to enrich those dialects with terms of science borrowed from the western nomenclature, and ... conveying knowledge to the population'.

The Chinese called this strategy 'using foreign ways to protect Chinese ideas'. The question today is whether western ways protect or annihilate Asian ideas. It is only realistic to admit that cultural assimilation is unavoidable. It demands effort to resist an influence that flows insidiously with technology. Given this imbalance, we must strike the best bargain we can.

A Singaporean man once apologised that he was not 'westernised' enough for his wife to open a bottle of wine in his absence and offer it to guests. I tried to explain that no respectable western woman does so, either. If she must offer a drink in her husband's absence, she invites the guest to help himself. My lesson was lost: blind emulation of western hospitality will lead to another small, but infelicitous, practice.

This leads back to the Gere-Shetty controversy. The western social gesture of a peck on the cheek, though alien to most Asian cultures, is widely practised. But television coverage showed Gere hugging and bending over a backwards-leaning Shetty that many Indians found suggestive.

It is knowing how much to take from each culture, how to mix and when, that saves the blend.

As Mahatma Gandhi said, while he wanted the winds of all cultures to blow in his house, he refused to be blown off his feet by any. Gandhi also recognised that allowances must be made for the bugs that fresh winds sometimes blow in.

Sunanda Kisor Datta-Ray is a former editor of The Statesman in India