From at least the early sixteenth century, when Tomé Pires acclaimed the marvels of Malacca, Westerners have evinced an interest in the cities of Southeast Asia, though for different reasons and from varying perspectives. Travellers like Cesare Fredrici, Ralph Fitch, and Gasparo Balbi were generally impressed with what they saw and compared it favourably in many respects with Europe of the 1580s. In the course of the two hundred years, however, this appreciation altered markedly. Western authors after the late eighteenth century took a less sanguine view and tended to describe towns and cities rather disparagingly as little more than collections of villages. During the late 1920s, the panorama made possible by the advent of air travel in Southeast Asia distinguished clearly between rural and urban areas, but showed the latter as thoroughly Europeanized enclaves. In the popular aerial photographs of the day, these cities appeared slick in their new tropical-colonial architectural style and uncomplicated by large or even particularly visible non-European populations.

The development of the Indonesian national language has been exemplary. Unlike the creation of a national language in other developing countries, as in Malaysia, the Philippines, and India, the choice has not become a political issue. In Indonesia, no sector of society has sought to promote other local or foreign languages as the national language. In 1962, Takdir Alisjahbana outlined the initial development of Indonesian from Malay, the trade language of the archipelago from the first century AD. and the language of the Sriwijaya Empire (A.D. 700–1200) through the period of rising nationalism to independence. A few of the important steps in this process were: the declaration of Indonesian as the national language by the National Youth Congress in 1928; the flourishing of a national and a Chinese press from the 1920s onward, both of which used the Malay language; the promotion of literary works by the monthly journal, Pudjangga Baru, from 1933 onward; and the standardizing effect of the Indonesian Language Commission established in 1942. These events successfully established the first stage or emergence of the national language.

The Anglo-Burmese administrator, ostensibly another Anglo-Indian administrator and traditionally perceived as such, must be viewed as a special case. He served Company and Crown in a milieu and under circumstances that differed sharply from those known to his counterparts in the subcontinent. Burma was in a unique position in that it was a part of both the Indian and British Empires. The administrator in Burma found himself at the end of a chain of command that extended from London via Calcutta to Rangoon. London tended to view the remote province with an eye to diplomatic and mercantile considerations. Calcutta concentrated on local priorities and imposed a rigid economy that accorded with Indian priorities. Little attempt was made to understand the alien culture with its differing needs. To the Anglo-Burmese administrator fell the difficult task of governing the ancient land under the aegis of Calcutta and the eyes of London.

Malaya at the start of the twentieth century, in common with much of the non-European world, had a peasant economy upon which a highly capitalized export economy was being grafted. The main export in the 19th century was tin, but tin took second place to rubber by 1916. There was, as is characteristic of export economies, a great disparity between the resources, particularly capital, available to the indigenous peasant population and those available to the export sector. There were, however, distinctive features to the Malayan situation, the most important being that the capitalist export economy did not draw on the subsistence sector for produce, labour, or food; food was imported, as was the labour used in mining and on estates. The output from rubber and coconut smallholdings, many of which were Malay owned, augmented Malaya's exports, particularly after 1910, but mines and estates operated independently from the indigenous rural population. There was a high level of coincidence between ethnic groupings and occupational specializations, and the economic division between peasant cultivation and the export sector also marked the ethnic division between Malays and non-Malays. Because the colonial administration nominally held power on behalf of the Malay population, the question of the welfare and economic role of the Malays had political implications disproportionate to its economic importance.

When King Chulalongkorn surveyed his realm on his second coronation in 1873 to mark the termination of the five-year regency at his coming of age, he saw much that was in need of reform. The king's assessment was that the monarch was but a figurehead; the existing framework of government was actually run by the leading nobility, foremost of whom were the regent and his family who wielded power based on their long dominance over the key administrative posts and the economic benefits that accrued from their official positions. From Chulalongkorn's viewpoint, the regent's family, which reached the pinnacle of its power during the regency of Chuang Bunnag (1868–73), dominated the bureaucracy, in effect controlled the administration of the country, and enriched itself with great facility at the expense of the king and the country. Through the political patronage that they extended to the tax farmers, the officials had assumed control of the tax farming system, the most pervasive method of revenue collection that was employed in the kingdom since the Third Reign. The germ of King Chulalongkorn's historic reform of the administrative system, restructured along rational, functional lines, thus lay in his desire to regain control over the government and economy, which had been gradually slipping out of the Crown's grip since the reign of his father, King Mongkut. The king was determined not to allow the situation to persist where substantial revenue from the tax farms was being channelled into the coffers of the leading noble families and the tax farmers themselves, to the detriment of the state.

When Joseph Conrad sailed on the Vidar from Singapore harbour tothe small coastal trading stations on the eastern coast of Borneo, the round trip took three weeks. The most difficult part of the journey occurred at the estuary of the Berau River where the Vidar would have run in, past the shifting bar and mud flats, and followed slowly up the mangrove-lined banks of the main branch to a settlement almost forty miles inland. It was here in 1887 that Conrad encountered the trader Charles Olmeyer whose existence in this remote place provided such an enduring focus for Conrad's imagination. In his first novel, Almayer's Folly, Conrad drew a portrait of Almayer (Olmeyer) as an exile, living on the banks of the Berau River in a sullen recoil both from the wilderness that gripped the settlement in its green immensity, and from the customs and values of those with whom he shared almost the entire course of his adult existence. Drawn to the outermost reaches of the earth by greed, Almayer's life, as conceived by Conrad, was the very symbol of rootlessness and alienation.

In two recent review articles, I.W. Mabbett summarizes the prehistoric and historic sources bearing on the question of “Indian influence on the development of Southeast Asian societies”. Asimilar review was undertaken by Paul Wheatley in “Satyantra in Suvarnadvipa” and more recently by Ken Hall. Each of these authors make similar points: that there are essentially three major hypotheses that have been advanced over the years to account for the spread of “Indian influence” (the Brahmana, Ksatriya, and Vaisya respectively, to which we will return); and that evidence on which to decide amongst these hypotheses is lacking. After a “brief outline of the sources on ‘Indianization’ which is practically complete”, I.W. Mabbett concludes that:

It is unlikely that prolongation of the catalogue of possible sources would add much to what has already been gleaned — more Indian trade goods, more inscriptions recording the activity of pious Hindu or Buddhist rulers, more unreliable Chinese second-hand accounts of Indian priests and Indianized “kingdoms”. The purpose in extending the catalogue this far had been twofold. In the first place, it is to make quite clear that the actual process of “Indianization” is nowhere reliably portrayed; what is portrayed by the earliest evidence is the operation of kingdoms already Indianized; and therefore the various theories that have been offered are speculation. One may seem more plausible or attractive than another, but none has been established.