Working from recently declassified Australian and British government files, this paper examines the archival evidence on policy thinking in London and Canberra towards the Five Power Defence Arrangements (FPDA) during the period 1970–75. The article argues that one of the main reasons for the Heath government's decision to deploy a token military force in Southeast Asia as part of a multilateral defence arrangement with Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore was the desire to uphold these Commonwealth connections. By contrast, Canberra was beginning to question the value of such arrangements in a rapidly changing Southeast Asian strategic environment.

The geo-political and cultural-historical context, more than any other single factor, has shaped the notion of Mranma Pran in pre-colonial times. It is derived from a longstanding reality embodied in the term anya (‘upstream’), representing Upper Burma (hence, the term anyatha, ‘offspring of Upper Burma’). Although Lower Burma also has an equivalent in the term akriy (‘downstream’), it was Upper Burma more than any other region in the country that initially exemplified the term Mranma Pran, the ‘heartland’ of the country's culture and society for over a millennium. The meaning of the term Mranma Pran (or its colonial term, ‘Burma’), therefore, depends on the context in which and by whom it is viewed.

On the basis of a new database of stock and commodity prices, along with measures of government revenues, commodity exports and immigration, the article assesses the impact of the opium trade on the economies of colonial Malaya, the Netherlands Indies and China from 1873 to 1911. Stock returns for a few Malayan industries related to international trade are significantly correlated with opium price changes, as are prices for labour-intensive, Chinese-dominated export commodities such as tin and gambier. However, opium price changes explain, at most, only a small fraction of the behaviour of stock and commodity prices. On balance, stock and commodity markets ascribed only secondary importance to ups and downs in the opium trade as measured by the price of the drug.

In the colonial period many Europeans considered coconuts a lazy man's crop. For the Indonesian population, however, they were a profitable form of cultivation, especially from the 1880s when the European oil and fats industry increasingly started to use copra, the dried kernel of the coconut, as a raw material for the production of soap and later also for margarine. Around one-third of world copra exports originated in the Netherlands Indies (Table 1), and copra was especially important for the economy of East Indonesia, where in 1939 it constituted 80 per cent of the total volume and 60 per cent of the total value of exports. In some parts of Indonesia copra even received the nickname of “green gold”. European involvement in coconut cultivation and the coconut trade nonetheless was limited. In the first half of this century, coconut growing was dominated by the indigenous population, which accounted for 94 per cent of Indonesian production, while Chinese merchants dominated the intermediate trade in copra.

Only a few decades ago, there was not a country in Asia that recognised the existence of specifically and legally defined ‘Indigenous Peoples’. In recent years, however, that has changed, albeit unevenly. The concept of indigeneity is being increasingly accepted, both by governments and the public, although it remains highly controversial, even in countries where it has made some ground legally. For example, in the region we now frequently refer to as ‘Southeast Asia’, the governments of the Philippines and Cambodia now define particular ethnic groups of people as Indigenous, and are providing these groups with particular rights. In other countries in the region, the concept of Indigenous Peoples is still not legally recognised, but there is increasing acceptance of the concept, or at least recognition of it amongst certain groups. Questions related to the proliferation and contested nature of the concept of Indigenous Peoples were addressed during a multidisciplinary workshop organised by the Center for Southeast Asian Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison in March 2015. This special issue of the Journal of Southeast Asian Studies is devoted to considering some of the conceptions of indigeneity in Southeast Asia that brought together a group of scholars and activists from various countries in Asia and the United States for the workshop, which was financially supported through a grant provided by Open Society Foundations.

Set in Manila in 1813 during the implementation of the Liberal Spanish Constitution of 1812, this case study of the conflict between natives and Chinese mestizos over seating arrangements in a small parish church demonstrates how the new charter challenged the hierarchies of colonial political space. Despite its centralist aim, the Constitution instead empowered multiple ethnic groups, while reinforcing local notions of self-government and autonomy. Though a brief period, it was a significant one, as natives and Chinese mestizos constructed complex political identities. In turn, these identities set a political precedent which re-emerged during the second constitutional period (1820–23) with more wide-ranging political consequences.

Messrs. Chandler, Ebihara, Haines, and Whitmore have written thoughtful and stimulating essays. But they have not been overwhelmingly concerned with exposing any great differences between medieval Vietnam and its nearest Theravada Buddhist neighbour, Cambodia. No doubt unintentionally, the two societies have been made to seem rather similar to each other. After all, Vietnamese literati, like the authors of Cambodia's normative poems, also consecrated what David Chandler has called “the propriety of hierarchies, rote-learning, and tradition”. Vietnamese social theory, like that of the chbap, stressed “the teacher-pupil relationship”. May Ebihara's argument that Cambodian social strata were permeable, and were characterized by “fluidity of membership” rather than resembling “rigidly structured Indian castes”, could also be applied to Vietnam, as could, obviously, her theme of Cambodia's oscillation between periods of centralized and decentralized political power. Even the social categories the two societies used have similarities: the Vietnamese equivalent of the Khmer term neak chea (“good people”, meaning relatively free men) was also “good people” (lương dân) and referred to citizens like farmers, with morally valuable occupations, as opposed to people like actors who were thought to be “mean”. One is left with the impression that the countries of sixteenth-century Southeast Asia embraced much less social and economic diversity than the countries of sixteenth-century Europe, with all their sharp contrasts between Venetian patricians and Antwerp merchants, Italian rice fanners and Dutch market gardeners, conservative English craft guilds and revolutionary Flemish ones. Can any faith still be placed in Harry Benda's old suggestion that the “constant” clashes between Vietnamese and Khmers be “analyzed in terms of a basic polarization between different…social and political systems?”

While student movements have only recently become internationally prominent, they have been active political and social forces in many nations for a fairly long period of time. The European nationalist movements of the 19th century had strong student support, and European revolutionary movements, including the German revolutions of 1848 and the Russian revolutionary movements, saw students in instrumental roles. In the developing areas as well students have played an important and sometimes crucial political role. Asian students have a particularly long and active history of political involvement. India, China, Burma, Indonesia, Pakistan, and other nations have all seen nationalist upsurges in the 19th and 20th centuries in which university students and Western-oriented intellectuals have been active. Many Asian nations, after achieving independence, have seen student and youth movements in opposition or as politically volatile elements in their societies. In a few nations, such as Turkey, South Korea, South Vietnam, and indirectly Indonesia, Pakistan, and Japan, students have caused governments to fall or political crises to take place.

The history of the Malay world in the eighteenth century is characterised by a constantly shifting balance of power, extreme flexibility in the political patterns, and an ongoing search for strong friends and advantageous allies. Malay and European sources relating to the period contain an often overwhelming amount of information concerning seemingly endless conspiracies, broken treaties, negotiations, and re-alignments. Yet from this maze of detail distinct themes emerge, one of which concerns the activities of various Malay anak raja (sons of kings and pirates) and anak baik (sons of nobles). Existing material allows for the compilation of a number of interesting biographies. We can, for instance, follow the career of Perak's Raja 'Alim, who might have successfully unseated his cousin and become ruler himself had it not been for Dutch intervention. The wandering life led by a Siak prince, Raja Ismail, and his unceasing efforts to rally support for a triumphant return to his homeland are similarly described in both Malay chronicles and the missives of Dutch governors. Such accounts make for absorbing reading and undoubtedly have their own intrinsic historical value. On the other hand, it is perhaps more fruitful to regard anak raja like Raja 'Alim and Raja Ismail not so much as individuals as representatives of a distinct social category within what has been called the “ruling class.” If viewed in this light, the activities of many anak raja mentioned in the records take on a new dimension, and comments concerning their role in Malay history assume a wider application.

Malaysia consists of Peninsular Malaysia and the two East Malaysian states of Sabah and Sarawak. Development planning in Peninsular Malaysia began as early as 1950, while the first plan for the whole of the Malaysian federation founded in 1963 was published in 1966. Have the two East Malaysian states been integrated properly into the various Malaysian plans? Or have they, with their somewhat different economic, political and social backgrounds, been treated as a nuisance element and appeared in the plans only as an afterthought? In any case, is the planning experience of Peninsular Malaysia relevant for solving the problems of the much less developed East Malaysian states?

It is a commonplace that political development must be prepared for and planned for. Without adequate preparation and planning there will be chaos, perhaps approaching Congo-like proportions. The dangers are all the greater in multi-racial societies, such as Sarawak and North Borneo. A warning against the premature introduction of political parties in Sarawak was given by the Governor in 1959 only a few weeks before the Sarawak United Peoples' Party was founded. “It is … essential that party politics should not cause further divisions in our community but should have a unifying and binding effect. If a party tends to be dominated by one race or class … it may have a disintegrating effect on our community …… I frankly doubt if political parties at the present stage of development will spell faster progress in this small country …” These misgivings were echoed from North Borneo, by its Governor, some six months later. “People of like taste or like purpose are all too probably of like race, and nothing could promise greater disaster for this country than its division on communal lines.” The Governor knew of no multiracial society in the world “where as yet there has been evolved a satisfactory, stable or easy working form of fully representative Government”. Nearly four years later the next Governor of North Borneo warned of the danger of “mounting the tiger of political parties prematurely”. The formation of parties at this stage “carried the greatest danger of communal strife”.

Urbanization and bureaucratization are usually connected with a high rate of social mobility in western industrialized societies. In Thailand, however, mobility has declined at least between certain strata of Thai society following the consolidation of a bureaucratic elite in the expanding urban centre of Bangkok. The growing size, the monopolization of certain status symbols, the development of a distinct subculture and the concentration of economic and political power are indications that the bureaucratic elite is developing into a social class. It is therefore concluded that urbanization and bureaucratization in formerly loosely structured societies may lead to the formation of a class system and to a temporary decline of social mobility.

The kingdom of Lingga-Riau, with its dependencies of Johor and Pahang, traced its line of authority back to the earlier Malay kingdoms of Melaka, Singapore, Bintan and to the ultimate source Bukit Siguntang, Palembang. It was officially ended by the Dutch in 1911 when Sultan Abdul Rahman Muazzam Syah refused to sign a treaty of total submission to the colonial government of the Netherlands East Indies, and was obliged to leave the Riau-Lingga area and live in exile in Singapore until his death in 1930. Although the end of the kingdom was, and still remains, a trauma for those of noble descent in Lingga and Riau, the sultanate had in fact survived longer than most of the other indigenous kingdoms of the Malay-Indonesian world. The trauma of the ending of the kingdom prompted one descendant of the Malay royal line in Lingga to compile in 1930 an account of the Malay kings from Bukit Siguntang to Lingga. It is an account which highlights particular concerns of the author (and presumably of others in his position) about the Melaka-Johor-Lingga Malay royal lines, their relationship with other Malay royal lines and their relationship with their subjects.

The importance of the Portuguese sources for our knowledge of Malayan history has long been recognized. Fortunately, most of them are now available in translation, and thus accessible to historians who have difficulty in reading 16th or 17th century Portuguese.

In the first place we should mention the English translations issued by the Hakluyt Society. These are:

I argue that women's literacy was more common than is usually supposed and that women engaged extensively with written literature, both as readers and writers. I also discuss the role of traditional Islamic education in transmitting literacy among girls. The article is based on the examination of a group of narrative poems written by women at the court of Penyengat.

There was a stone fort at Malacca from 1512 to 1807. Only twice during the three centuries of its existence did this fort change hands, and it was taken by storm only once. Yet it was many times besieged, and nations which did not possess it regarded it with disfavour as a threat to the security of their communications and a hindrance, if not a barrier, to the freedom of their trade. In relation to the Malay Peninsula the fort at Malacca was of small account, for it was never used as a base for the furthering of territorial ambitions in the interior. Its importance lay rather in its. position on the flank of the main sea route between India and China. Beneath its guns fleets could be assembled and lie at anchor in security, and these fleets could be, and were, employed to attack the shipping of rival powers passing through Malacca Straits.

On the last day of May 1872, “three respectably, but not ostentatiously dressed Chinamen” arrived at the Charing Cross Hotel, London. They brought with them three letters and four heavy boxes for presentation to Her Majesty, Queen Victoria. While they waited for a reply to their letters and for an opportunity to present the boxes, they toured London, visiting the Mint, Woolwich Arsenal, Newgate Prison, the Enfield Ordnance Factory, the Powder Mills at Waltham Abbey, the Post Office and the Bank of England. At the end of July they were informed that Her Majesty's Government could not accept the proposals outlined in their letters and that Her Majesty could not receive the boxes. On 21 September 1872, the three Chinese departed, leaving behind the four sealed boxes. Thus appeared to end one of the more bizarre episodes in nineteenth-century Anglo-Chinese relations.

An educational system reflects the norms and needs of the society it serves. In the Federated Malay States, a plural society, there were four separate school systems, each with its own distinctive characteristics. This paper discusses the British role in their development. The period studied extends from around 1900 to the outbreak of World War Two.

In the final three decades of the nineteenth century, the world price of silver fell dramatically. On the London silver market, the price dropped almost without check, from an average of 60d. per ounce in 1870 to 28d. per ounce in 1900. For those countries on the silver standard (and at the beginning of the period this included all the states of Southeast Asia), the result was a substantial, continuous depreciation of their currencies against gold-based currencies, most notably sterling. In turn this threatened to disturb severely the foreign trade and capital inflows of those states at a time when they were becoming more closely integrated into the international economy. For example, frequent changes in the exchange rate introduced an element of speculation into trade with gold-standard countries, with the result that merchants' calculations of profit margins were frequently thrown into confusion by sudden fluctuations in the exchange. Moreover, with the exchange value of their currency falling, these states found themselves paying increasingly more in terms of the local currency to secure the same sterling value of imports. This was a particularly important consideration for those countries dependent upon imports of capital goods, for example, mining machinery or railway equipment, as these were obtained almost solely from the gold-standard states of western Europe.

During the 130 years since Chinese settlers first began coming to Sarawak, the pattern of leadership and power within the Chinese community has changed in a number of important respects. The purpose of this essay is to examine the nature of the changes manifested within the Chinese elite, and to analyze the ways in which the criteria for the selection of leaders and the exercise of power have changed from the establishment of Chinese settlement in the 1830's to the contemporary situation as part of the Malaysian Federation. The emphasis is on leadership and power within the Chinese community itself. At the same time the history of the Chinese elite is treated as a problem in local history.