One of the most visible and enduring vestiges of colonialism is its buildings. In this article I address the question of how current approving references to the colonial buildings in Indonesia should be explained, looking at one particular city, Surabaya. The cheerful, innovative adoption of colonial themes defies an analysis in terms of ‘imperial debris’. I propose to borrow the term ‘bricolage’ from Claude Lévi-Strauss to describe this process in which people make new associations between selected colonial buildings and their own present lives. Bricolage is the selective conceptual appropriation of the colonial buildings for whatever objective the user finds convenient: objects to boost city marketing, a company advertisement, stops on a heritage tour, amusing backdrops for pictures and selfies, a counterpoint to a consumerist lifestyle in shopping malls. For colonial building enthusiasts, the love of colonial design and old urban quarters is more than a matter of the aesthetics of urban spaces, but also, indirectly, a critique of the transformation of modern cities by short-sighted real-estate developers and city administrators, who demolish irreplaceable buildings in acts of ‘architectural suicide’.

In the 1970s, communities of the Kalinga sub-ethnic group in the Cordillera Mountains in northern Philippines successfully halted the construction of a series of hydroelectric dams along their main waterway, the Chico River, which would have caused their displacement. Based on interviews and archival research, the article examines the role played by a Kalinga political institution known as the bodong or peace pact in the Kalingas’ mobilisation against the dam project, using an analytical framework drawn from Charles Tilly's and Sidney Tarrow's work on contentious politics.

Between 1786 and the 1860s, Penang Island was transformed from a lush tropical island into a British colony covered in ordered plantations. As a consequence of Britain's temporary possession of the fabled Spice Islands, nutmeg emerged as the most important crop, but after decades of experimentation and uncertainty, its cultivation ultimately failed. Although the struggle for nutmeg to become commercially viable was heavily dependent on global price fluctuations and official support, this article focuses on local factors such as shortages of labour, the specific skills of the island's various ethnic groups and reliance on indigenous agricultural techniques. The story of nutmeg cultivation in Penang can then be situated within a wider historiography concerned with the transmission of botanical knowledge and plant transfer, as well as the ecological impact of colonial agriculture.

The Denounce the Communists Campaign (1955–c.1960) was a key moment in the conflict between the Republic of Vietnam (RVN, South Vietnam) and the Vietnamese communist movement and would eventually escalate to become the Vietnam War. The RVN launched the campaign to turn public opinion against communism and destroy the underground communist network. Building on previous scholarship, this article examines the propaganda associated with the initiative. During the campaign, state propagandists and allied intellectuals developed a historical narrative about the Anti-French Resistance (1945–54) that vilified the communists. Although highly partisan, the narrative illuminates the longer history of violence between communists and anti-communists in Vietnam.

This article explores increasing medical control over sexuality and the female body in rural Malaysia by examining the formation of the global discourse of ‘female genital mutilation’ (FGM) through local discourses on sunat (circumcision). Regarding FGM as a Foucauldian discourse, the article analyses interviews with traditional practitioners and villagers’ statements. The expansion of modern medical systems, along with the medical gaze, has brought notions of sexuality in rural areas of Malaysia as revealed from local discourses on sunat that mention it as a means of controlling female sexuality. By examining the cultural gaps between global discourse and categories of FGM and the local practice of sunat, the article concludes that the incorporation of local practices in the global is ongoing rather than complete.

Past scholarship has described the Cham Bani religious community as a heterodox and syncretic version of Islam. We argue for a more nuanced interpretation: assertions of orthopraxy and heteropraxy shape contemporary debates in Cham communities in Vietnam. Based on a robust selection of source material—including the positions of government officials, high-ranking clerics, community members, and local activists, along with historicised anthropological accounts, Cham manuscripts, and government documents—our multidisciplinary approach, combining in-depth interviews and historical analysis, suggests religious classifications cannot be viewed as static in Cham communities, especially in the case of the ‘Cham Bani’, currently best thought of as a Cham particularist religious community.

There have been some changes to Taman Mini Indonesia Indah, a popular ethnographic theme park built nearly five decades ago during President Suharto's New Order era to present a utopian version of ‘Unity in Diversity’ (Bhinneka Tunggal Ika), Indonesia's state motto. This article discusses the changes and continuities manifested in the present-day slightly expanded Taman Mini. Unlike earlier scholarship focusing on sociopolitical and symbolic aspects of the theme park, this article argues that Taman Mini's mainly domestic visitors understand and interact with its walk-in models of traditional architecture and ‘highlights’ of Indonesian culture and history in ways that often differ from the official script which presents cultural diversity through sanitised ethnographic displays. Moving beyond its official, touristic and commercial intentions and design, Taman Mini has become a lively place for everyday cultural production, engagement and negotiation for its many Indonesian visitors.

This article is a re-examination of Chinese student activism in Singapore through the lens of cultural performance, which has yet to garner due attention. Tracing the ebb and flow of Chinese school concerts in the politically volatile atmosphere of Cold War era Singapore and Malaya complicates current understanding about student activism in the city state. Whereas the official narratives by the British colonial administration and later, the PAP, often cast Chinese student activism as part of a communist insurgency, this article argues that school concerts—comprising folk dances, songs, choirs and theatre—were an alternative space for Chinese youth to articulate their visions of building an independent socialist state and an integrated multiracial Malayan nation. Unlike the student activism expressed through mass strikes, these school concerts enable one to see how the Chinese students displayed sophisticated ways of discipline, organisation skills, and creative energy through the performing arts in 1950s and 1960s Singapore.