Three years of glorious revival for the Kuomintang followed Sun Yat-sen's death on March 12, 1925. Military success in the Northern Expedition transformed the embattled Cantonese Party of 1925 into the recognized national government of China. But the same period also brought about vicious squabbles over Party authority among Sun Yat-sen's disciples. Political infighting, insubordination, outright treachery, even murder, and a bewildering variety of political shenanigans shook the Party's very foundations. At the end of those three years, Chiang Kai-shek emerged in a permanent if precarious position of control of a Kuomintang that was shot through with persistent, if sometimes disguised, hatreds.

The full-scale Protestant missionary assault made possible by the provisions of the Treaty of Tientsin, which allowed missionaries access to all parts of the interior of China and provided them with the protection of local authorities, both created new problems and intensified old ones existing as a result of unwelcome foreign presence in the land. The difficulties were of such nature as to plague even those nations which had considerable experience and had enjoyed substantial success in colonial affairs. It is the purpose of this paper to examine one incident involving missionary operation in order to illustrate through it the practical burdens which such enterprises could impose upon British and Chinese diplomacy. It is the conviction of this writer that such episodes, although not in themselves crucial, were influential in the shaping of diplomacy.

One of the functions of higher educational systems everywhere has been the recruitment of an elite; for until the mass-education experiments of the twentieth century, highly educated members of major historical societies have been the chosen few. Similarly, the content of higher education has formed a culture the monopoly of which has served to set the highly educated apart from the common man. Hence the system of higher education in most societies forms a well-recognized institutional avenue of approach, not only to a society's high literary culture, but to prestige and power as well. These important properties of higher educational systems suggest that the content of higher education may have a social utility for the educated elite quite apart from its informational value. In this paper we examine the relationship between the college curriculum and the social reform activities of the educated elite of one Indian province, Bombay, in the late nineteenth century.

The non-cooperation movement of 1920–1922 was a significant landmark in the development of nation-wide political activities by the Indian National Congress. At the same time, because it took place within very different regional contexts, the nature of the movement and the response which it provoked derived a good deal from regional ingredients. In the United Provinces (the present day Uttar Pradesh), an agricultural region with a largely rural population, it was the agrarian system which molded the character of the non-cooperation and “anti-non-cooperation” movements. Non-cooperation there coincided with unrest among the peasantry and, for a time at least, it assumed the appearance of a revolutionary upsurge. The British Government of the province, therefore, had to meet this revolutionary movement as well as the Congress-led political movement. The Government turned to the landed aristocracy, whose influence in the countryside it had depended upon in the past, to provide the basis for an anti-revolutionary front. Initially, then, the non-cooperation movement served to refurbish the province's traditional landlord-based political system. It went further, however; and at one stage it appeared likely that the moderate-nationalist politicians, usually critical of the government, would be prepared to ally themselves with both the government and the landlords because of their concern over the dangers of revolution within the province. “Anti-non-cooperation,” it seemed, might create a new use for traditional methods of political control, as well as the source of important new lines of political development in the province. It is the creation of this situation, and its working out within the framework of the Government's efforts to counter both revolution and disorder, which is traced here.

One of the more serious obstacles to economic progress and human betterment in many of the less developed countries is the dense settlement of the present cultivated land, coupled with a rapidly increasing population. In much of southern and eastern Asia where most of the good land has been occupied by relatively dense agricultural populations for centuries and where rapidly declining mortality has sharply increased the rate of population growth, heavy land pressure is both chronic and acute. A rapidly increasing population is particularly characteristic of the Philippines where crude birth rates have remained more or less stable at about 50 per thousand since 1900 and where death rates have dropped progressively and are now about 20 per thousand. The present rate of natural increase, approximately three per cent per year, is not only higher than in most Asian countries, but is also higher than in most countries of the world. If this rate of population growth continues unabated, and the evidence suggests that it is more likely to accelerate rather than diminish in the near future, the population of the Philippines will double well before the end of the present century.

It was in the autumn of 1912, when Ezra Pound “went to Mr. Yeats' rooms and found him much excited over the advent of a great poet, someone ‘greater than any of us.’” This was the beginning of the rather extraordinary story of Rabindranath Tagore's appearance on the Western literary scene, which was to earn him a great deal of sudden fame, and the Nobel Prize for Literature in November, 1913. The Western appreciation of Tagore had a sensational quality which was striking when it came but looked even more unusual when viewed later after the abrupt craze was over and Tagore was largely forgotten.

In a democratic country with a single dominant party the distribution of power within the party is of critical importance to the maintenance of democratic processes and political responsibility. The implications of such a system are particularly acute in the new nations of Asia and Africa where the dominant party has grown out of a nationalist movement and where problems of national unity have resulted frequendy in a tendency to view the party and the state as synonymous. In such cases, opposition to the policy objectives of the party, when it is in power, is often looked upon as criticism of the state itself. As a result legitimate partisan criticism may be regarded as anti-nationalist or subversive.

The Philippine claim to the territory of North Borneo, or as it is now called, Sabah, is not of recent origin. Rather it is based on an older claim to the area by the Sultans of Sulu. But the Sulu claim itself is suspect. A look at the background and an analysis of the status of North Borneo is therefore essential to understanding the nature of the dispute.

In January 1878 Sultan Mohammed Jamalul Alam, granted a portion of North Borneo, which he claimed, to an international syndicate headed by Alfred Dent, a London businessman, and the Austrian Baron Gustav von Overbeck. A few weeks before this grant was made, in December 1877, the Sultan of Brunei had ceded North Borneo, including the whole of the area claimed by Sulu, to von Overbeck and Dent.

When students of Japanese literary history view the latter part of the Tokugawa period, two developments stand out. First, Edo replaced Kyoto and Osaka as the center of cultural activity. Second, a baffling variety of forms of prose fiction arose. The former stemmed largely from the policies of Yoshimune, the eighth Tokugawa shogun. Although his suppression of “pernicious literature” had a baneful effect on publishing in Kyoto and Osaka, it indirectly improved the competitive position of Edo booksellers. During Yoshimune's reign, also, the city of Edo underwent enormous population growth. Many hatamoto and samurai were forced to resettle in Edo, where they lived on rice stipends rather than on the direct produce of their land. Bureaucracy expanded. Samurai turned from the rigors of rural life to polite urban pursuits. Need for additional services led to a growth in the number of merchants. Likewise, Yoshimune's personal interest in mathematics, science, and even Western learning resulted in the import of books and ideas from the outside world, particularly China. Proscriptions against foreign learning became less rigid.

The Great Shun once said, “Poetry bespeaks the emotion.” As Ezra Pound puts it, “Poetry is a verbal statement of emotional values; a poem is an emotional value verbally stated.” From the earliest anonymous composer to Mao Tse-tung, we observe in the outpourings of the poet's heart his innermost feelings and the shape of things in the offing. In the Ch'un-ch'iu period (722–484 B.C.) poetry was not only composed to voice the poet's emotion, but also quoted to the accompaniment of music on diplomatic missions to exchange views between states without causing affront or embarrassment, a fact which underlies the “moderation and magnanimity” characteristic of Chinese poetical tradition.

It is small wonder that Thunderstorm (Lei-yü), first published in 1933 and performed in 1935, should have enjoyed enduring popularity among Chinese readers and theatre-goers. For the play, despite its artistic flaws, touches upon two of the most sensitive issues involved in the May Fourth Movement: a socialist concern for the plight of the workers under capitalist exploitation, and an individual effort to assert personal freedom and happiness under the crippling weight of patriarchal society. In short, Thunderstorm was so ruthless in its attacks upon traditional Chinese morals and social system that the government, on three occasions, felt impelled to place it under a ban.

Compared with the other countries of Southeast Asia, the Western-language historiography of Thailand is meagre indeed. Western sources have furthered scholarship considerably, but historical writing on Thailand will remain unbalanced until Thai materials have been fully exploited. Some beginning has been made on this work by both Thai and Western scholars, but as yet this is only a beginning.

The year 1964 marked the centenary of the suppression of the Taiping Revolution, China's largest-scale revolution up to that time, and of the death of one of its greatest heroes, the Taiping's Loyal Prince, Li Hsiu-chʻeng. The Taiping movement has ever since been held in respectful esteem by Chinese revolutionaries. Sun Yat-sen considered himself the “spiritual” successor to the leader of the defeated movement. The Communists too maintain a respectful sympathy for die Taipings, whom they regard more or less as important forerunners of their own revolution. This does not mean that Communist historians, when writing from a Marxist-disciplined perspective, fail to point out the revolutionary shortcomings of the Taipings. But, everything considered, the movement and its principal leaders remain objects of considerable historical respect.

What has been happening to “Economic Democracy” in Japan within the past twenty years since the end of World War II? Has die emphasis upon rapid economic growth countered the measures intended by the Allied Occupation to ensure economic democracy?

The democratic economy the Supreme Command of the Allied Powers envisioned for Japan in the years 1946-1948 was to be free of highly concentrated economic power, either in the hands of Zaibatsu or of giant corporations, was to have an Anti-Monopoly Act to promote “the democratic and wholesome development of the national economy as well as to assure the interest of the general consumer,” and was to have a “just and equal” tax law to “democratize the Japanese economy.” A thorough-going land reform and legal bona fide trade union movement also was declared to be a necessary part of economic democracy. It was, in the words of the Zaibatsu Mission, to build “a strong middle class which can influence the course of policy.”