Sabah (previously known as British North Borneo) occupies the whole of the northern portion of the island of Borneo, covering an area of 76, 115 square kilometres. Its immediate neighbours are Brunei, Sarawak and Kalimantan (Indonesian Borneo). From 1882 to 1942, Sabah was administered by the British North Borneo (Chartered) Company. The territory possessed three main attractions: its timber, its reputed minerals and its land. Timber has now grown to be amajor export commodity, second only to petroleum. With the exception of deposits of coal and some gold, economic resources of other sought-after minerals were not proven during the period. The land proved to be the most valuable asset. Many crops were experimented with: tobacco, sugar cane, coffee, coconuts and rubber and they laid the basis for the economic development of the territory. The expansion of these crops was largely assisted by the introduction of a modern transport system which supplemented the original means of communication, the rivers. The railway in particular provided the impetus for the rubber boom on the west coast. In turn, this resulted in the emergence of an export-oriented economy, specializing in rubber, timber, copra and tobacco. From 1942, Sabah was occupied by the Japanese until its liberation in 1945. After a brief period under military administration, it became a British Colony in 1946. Under colonial rule from 1946 to 1963 the previous pattern of economic exploitation continued.

The issue of who constituted the workforce employed in the Java sugar industry during the late colonial era remains a controversial one. Almost thirty years ago one leading Indonesian scholar made the eminently plausible suggestion that ‘on the whole, those who sought work in the sugar industry… were those who had no land. They were for the greater part recruited from the landless… who were eager to sell their labour to anyone prepared to pay wages’ [Selosoemardjan 1962: 271]. Since that time, however, the waters of debate have become a great deal murkier. In particular, the legend that the industry's workers remained ‘peasants’ is one which dies hard [e.g. Knight 1989]. Indeed, if there can be said to be a single image illustrative of the prevailing orthodoxy concerning the relations between labour and capital in late colonial Java, it is that of the peasant-worker who ‘persisted as a community-oriented household farmer at the same time that he became an industrial wage labourer’ and who ‘had one foot in the rice terrace and the other in the [sugar] mill’ [Geertz 1963: 89]

Comparatively little of a scholarly nature has been written about Indonesian trade unions, particularly on the two decades from 1945 to 1965 when, like the political parties to which so many of them were affiliated, the unions had their heyday. This paper focuses on the development of trade unions in one specific industry: refined sugar production. The period to be examined—1945 to 1949—runs from the proclamation of Indonesian independence by Sukarno and Hatta, through the revolution fought against the returning Dutch, to December 1949 when the Netherlands finally acknowledged Indonesian independence. It was during this period that the major post-war sugar industry unions were established. The circumstances surrounding the establishment of these unions will be examined, along with their leaders and members, ideological leanings and political and industrial objectives.

The Kailuan Mining Administration (Kailuan or the KMA) ran one of the two largest colliery combines in pre-Communist China. Because it was a Sino-British company, most previous studies have concentrated on the important role it played in China's political history before 1949, but its equally important role in China's economy has been little studied. This paper contributesto remedying that deficiency.

Although it would now seem established beyond question that agriculture in most parts of India had been exposed to commercial influences from medieval times, there can be little doubt that a variety of developments from the second half of the nineteenth century greatly strengthened those influences. Railways and road transport made possible a huge expansion in cash cropping, for national and international markets, and production regimes across the subcontinent were placed in a new context of opportunity—and of pressure. While so much would scarcely be disputed among historians, what has become—and remained—more controversial, however, is an understanding of the implications of this extended commercial logic for agrarian economy and society. Since colonial times, opinions would seem to have been divided between ‘optimists’, for whom commercialization marked progress and a growing prosperity for all; ‘pessimists’, for whom it marked regress into deepening class stratification and mass pauperization; and ‘sceptics’ who held that it made very little difference and that its impact was largely absorbed by preexisting structures of wealth accumulation and power on the land.

If to Gandhi goes the credit of having drawn out Indian women from their cloistered protected environment to join the national movement for freedom, to Jawaharlal Nehru surely goes the credit for having recognized the need formally to grant equality between the sexes and to enshrine it in the Fundamental Rights drawn up at the Karachi Congress of 1931.

In the 1970s the Gandhian movement split over fundamental philosophical issues and twenty years later it has not yet recovered. While the generally presented reasons for the decline of the Gandhian movement since Gandhi's death show substantial depth of analysis, they nevertheless overlook one essential aspect. They focus on issues such as whether a movement that was effective against a specific enemy, for example the British, can continue when the focus of the movement has been removed, and whether such a movement that stresses selfsacrifice can survive in an emerging consumerist and ‘democratic’ society, whether it is really anachronistic and inapplicable as we move towards the twenty-first century. Or perhaps, it is argued, that the movement was not able to survive the passing of a charismatic leader, especially when that leader's philosophy was adopted by the populace as a policy because of its instrumental value rather than as a creed and, further, that the leader was determined not to set up a sect of the chosen faithful around himself.