From November 1963 to July 1965, the militant Buddhist movement was the primary cause of political instability in South Vietnam. While the militant Buddhists maintained that they represented the Buddhist masses and were fighting merely for religious freedom, they actually constituted a small and unrepresentative minority that was attempting to gain political dominance. Relying extensively on Byzantine intrigue and mob violence to manipulate the government, the militant Buddhists practiced a form of political activism that was inconsistent with traditional Vietnamese Buddhism. The evidence also suggests that some of the militant Buddhist leaders were agents of the Vietnamese Communists.

An organizing principle of Britain's pre-war empire was collaboration with indigenous monarchies. Secure on their thrones, they legitimated British rule as well as assisting it in practical ways. While friendly princes were assets, however, uncooperative ones could be liabilities; they might obstruct attempts to exploit their resources or to modernize their governments. After the Second World War, British priorities and strategies changed. With their backs to the wall they switched from supporting princes to accommodating politicians. There was no obvious role for them in new nation-states and in many dependencies indigenous monarchies were swept aside by the onrush of nationalism. Yet in Malaya and Brunei they survived: the rulers of the peninsular Malay states did so by adjusting to political change, whereas the Sultan of Brunei flourished by preventing it.

In this article I examine the similarities between colonialism and postcolonialism in Sabah, Malaysia. I argue that the strategies of rule employed by the colonial and postcolonial states can be viewed as a sustained interaction in which the power of colonial discourses, institutions, and forms of rule still operate in postcolonial Sabah, particularly in terms of control over and access to natural resources. Drawing on archival and ethnographic data I present case studies from the colonial and postcolonial period that demonstrate that whether the focus of state rule is native land management systems and property rights or the conservation of biodiversity the result is the same: both states construct images of what types of agricultural practices and uses of forest resources are appropriate, what types of property regimes can persist, and how rural people should look and act in order to appear modern.

I conclude that the colonial and postcolonial states share the following characteristics: 1) they control access to resources through legal institutions that privilege private property law over customary practices; 2) they invent discourses that justify centralized rule while obfuscating the realities of those who live on the margins and whose lives depend directly on natural resources; 3) they utilize certain ideals of protection and/or commercialization of resources that privileges elite concerns over local concerns and subsistence uses; 4) they blame rural people for resource degradation while overlooking legal, political and economic structures that influence how rural people use resources; and 5) both the colonial and postcolonial states make it difficult for marginal people to define their own interests in their own terms.

For more than a century after its introduction into China in 1807, Protestant Christianity remained an alien religion preached and presided over by Western missionaries. In fact the Christian enterprise, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, was given protection as Western interests by the Qing court after China's defeat in the Opium War of 1839–42. According to the treaty signed with the United States in 1858, for instance, the Qing government was to shield from molestation ‘any persons, whether citizen of the United States or Chinese convert, [who] peaceably teach and practise the principles of Christianity.’ In the Convention of 1860 signed with France, the imperial court promised that in addition to the toleration of Roman Catholicism throughout China, all Catholic properties previously seized should be ‘handed over to the French representative at Beijing’ to be forwarded to the Catholics in the localities concerned. By the time of the Boxer Uprising of 1900, Protestant converts numbered about 80,000 and the Catholic Church (whose modern missions to China had begun in the late sixteenth century) claimed a membership of some 720,000—a following that was perhaps disappointing to the Western missions yet aggravating to those who saw both the Confucian tradition and Chinese sovereignty eroded by the coming of the West. As a perceived foreign menace the Christian community became the target of the bloody rampage by famished North China peasants known as the Boxers. Before the revolt was quelled in August by the eight-power expedition forces, it had visited death on more than 200 Westerners and untold thousands of native converts.

On June 8, 2001, Takuma Mamoru, a former psychiatric patient, broke into the Ikeda Elementary School in Osaka City and killed eight schoolchildren. This incident, which journalists have described as the Ikeda Massacre, resurrected public concerns about the mentally ill. The Osaka District Court declared that psychiatric evaluations had revealed that Takuma was sane enough to recognise the criminal nature of his actions. Discussion among the public and officials nevertheless remained focussed on the question of how to handle suspects in criminal cases who are not fit to stand trial as a result of psychiatric disorders. In August 2003, the same month that Takuma was sentenced to death, the National Diet passed legislation that could compel defendants, even those found innocent, to enter or regularly visit a mental hospital if judges and psychiatrists deemed them mentally ill and possessing a propensity to commit crimes.

Maunsell, a lieutenant in the 23rd Native Infantry of the Bengal Army set out on horseback in October 1812 from Agra, in what were then called the North-western Provinces, on a visit of inspection to Etawah, seventy-five miles south-east, accompanied by two sepoy orderlies and a horse carrying his belongings and equipment. All three were armed, Maunsell with sword and holster pistols, the sepoys with the Brown Bess musket and bayonet.

This is a narrative of events and panics in India in 1907: the fiftieth anniversary of 1857. After the East India Company's political ascendancy in 1757, the uprisings and insurrections of 1857 shook the very foundations of British rule in India. In the summer of 1907, several different strands of protest came together: the nearly all-India telegraph strike was barely over when a revolutionary terrorist network was unearthed, bringing the simmering political cauldron to the boil. The burgeoning swadeshi and boycott movement splintered, partly through the experience of Government repression, into political extremism within the Indian National Congress and revolutionary terrorism via secret societies. The growing radicalism within nationalist politics culminated in the split of the Congress at the meeting at Surat in 1907. Through this process the Indian National Congress changed from its constitutional and elite politics of reform into a more popular and mass-oriented organization. Though much has been written about this period of Indian politics, this paper delineates the larger international technological and informational entanglement through a case study of India, and in particular, Bengal.

Along the river Jamuna in North India are two, virtually contiguous, towns—Mathura and Vrindavan—which are important centres of Hindu pilgrimage. The region around and containing these two towns, known traditionally as Vraja or Vrajabhoomi, is the legendary place of the god Krishna.