This article explores how workers’ diets and meal services at factory canteens became the nucleus of labour politics in Republican Shanghai, China's industrial heartland. At the heart of Chinese labour politics was a demand for the improvement of workers’ diets, particularly for adequate meal service, which was to be provided by management at a reasonable price—if not for free—at the workplace. The purpose of this article is not only to draw attention to a lacuna in Chinese labour history, but also to shed new light on the agency of workers in their labour disputes from the perspective of food history. No other issue provided a better opportunity to unite workers, labour activists, and so-called scabs than the issue of food. In the wake of labour disputes, industrialists changed their perception of the relation between industrial health and work efficiency. With the promotion of factory canteens, the Guomidang Nationalists also began to exert unsparing efforts to garner the growing political potential of the labour force. Therefore, factory canteens evolved into a contested space in which workers, management, and the state offered different visions of workers’ diets and industrial productivity.

This article examines ethnic conflicts in hillside borderlands, with special emphasis on the tradition of headhunting. Moreover, this study investigates how the self-autonomous new settlers negotiated with the aboriginal tribes to establish their living space, as well as the social relationships that were formed as a result. The findings of this study reveal, on the one hand, the multiple meanings of the headhunting custom and its evolution following the influx of new settlers and under Qing statecraft, and, on the other hand, shed light on how immigrants established their living space in the face of complex ethnic relationships and conflicts in the hillside borderlands. Although the practice of headhunting did not have its roots in conflicts between mountain inhabitants (shengfan) and plains immigrants (shufan and Han Chinese), changes in the nature and scale of headhunting in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries were the result of the mass influx of new settlers and state intervention. In borderland regions where government authority was not well established, immigrants were left to fend for themselves and were much affected by the local cultural environment. Hence, when analysing the development of immigrant society or local history, due attention should be paid to the social traditions and characteristics of native inhabitants, which often provided the background and underlying reasons for ethnic conflicts.

This article discusses the impact and implications of Sino-American reconciliation on South Korea's policy towards its conflict with North Korea as well as its effect on South Korean politics in the early 1970s. Specifically, this article will examine how the Park regime altered its policy toward the North in response to the demands of the Nixon administration, before discussing the limitations of the policy in terms of the hostile approach of the Park regime toward Pyongyang during its talks with North Korea in 1972.

Based on recent findings in the South Korean and American archives, and an interview with former KCIA official Gang Indeok, this article contends that this particular focus provides an interesting case study to explain the impact of global changes on the domestic politics of specific nation(s) during the Cold War era. Along with many other American client states, the Republic of Korea misunderstood the objective of the United States before Nixon announced his Doctrine in 1969 and intention to reduce American support for Park. To be sure, it was not Washington's intention to build a democratic country in the Korean Peninsula. Rather, as Westad has indicated, the superpower sought greater control over the world and the expansion and extension of its power. This short article will thus demonstrate the process by which the client states of the United States—in particular, South Korea—came to understand the real aims of Washington and learned how to utilize these American intentions for their own national interest.

British consuls were key agents for the British imperial presence in China from 1842 to 1943. Their role, which was to perform administrative duties that protected the rights of British subjects, is most prominently remembered in connection with the east coast. Here larger foreign communities and international maritime trade necessitated their presence. However, British consuls were also posted to the far southwest province of Yunnan and the Burma-China frontier region. This article sheds light on the role of consuls working in the little-known British consular station of Tengyue, situated close to the Burma-China frontier. Using the reports of locally stationed consuls and Burmese frontier officials, it argues that consuls were important mediators of legal power operating at the fringes of empire for British imperial and colonial interests in this region. They represented British and European subjects, and were mediators in legal disputes between British Burma and China, helping to smooth over Sino-British relations and promoting British Burmese sovereign interests. The article serves to shift our attention from the British presence in China on the east coast to the southwestern frontier, demonstrate the importance of consular legal duties, and emphasize the trans-imperial nature of British legal roles across this region.

This article addresses the proactive agency of the Siamese kings in cementing commercial and diplomatic ties with the Dutch in the first two decades of the seventeenth century. The focus will be on two interrelated developments: one, the first diplomatic mission to the Dutch Republic in 1608–1610 and, two, a scheme hatched by Siamese officials to assist the Dutch in obtaining access to the Chinese market. This was deemed necessary after the Dutch, supported by some overseas Chinese businessmen from Southeast Asia, failed to gain trading access in 1604. On the Dutch side, two men stand in the limelight: Admiral Cornelis Matelief de Jonge, a director of the Dutch East India Company (VOC) and supreme commander of its second fleet to Asia, and Hugo Grotius, who at the time was a rising star in the Dutch government and would later be celebrated as one of the pathfinders of modern international law. Both their published and unpublished manuscripts will be examined to ascertain how Matelief and the VOC directors reacted to these Siamese initiatives and how, in turn, the admiral sought to mobilize and co-opt the Siamese into his own commercial and military agenda, with the help of Grotius.

This article explores the idea of federation in late-colonial India. Projects of federation sought to codify the uncodified and fragmented sovereign landscape of the British Raj. They were ambitious projects that raised crucial questions about sovereignty, kingship, territoriality, the potential of constitutional law in transforming the colonial state into a democratic one, and India's political future more broadly. In the years after 1919, federation became a capacious model for imagining a wide array of political futures. An all-India Indian federation was seen as the most plausible means of maintaining India's unity, introducing representative government, and overcoming the Hindu–Muslim majority–minority problem. By bringing together ‘princely’ India and British India, federation made the Indian states central players in late-colonial contestations over sovereignty. This article explores the role of the states in constitutional debates, their place in Indian political imaginaries, and articulations of kingship in late-colonial India. It does so through the example of Hyderabad, the premier princely state, whose ruler made an unsuccessful bid for independence between 1947 and 1948. Hyderabad occupied a curious position in competing visions of India's future. Ultimately, the princely states were a decisive factor in the failure of federation and the turn to partition as a means of overcoming India's constitutional impasse.

This article explores the role of Jamia Millia Islamia—the National Muslim University—in the formation of a composite national identity in India around the time of partition. This institution, born under the dual influence of the Khilafat and Non-Cooperation movements, constituted for its members a ‘laboratory’ for the nation. Through their educational experiments and constructive work à la Gandhi, Jamia teachers and students sought to lay the ground for an independence that would be ‘meaningful’ not only for Muslims but for the entire nation. In so doing, Jamia members claimed the right for Muslims to be recognized as ‘unhyphenated Indians’, able to speak for the nation. This article thus discusses the efforts of Jamia members to promote an inclusive conception of ‘composite India’ of which Muslims were fully part. At the same time, it highlights the ambiguous attitude of government authorities vis-à-vis the institution. Despite Jamia members’ strong affinities with Congress leaders, notably Nehru, the school received little support from state authorities after independence. Paradoxically, Nehru's government preferred to turn towards another Muslim institution—Aligarh Muslim University—often considered the ‘cradle’ of ‘Muslim separatism’, in order to reach out to Muslim citizens and promote national integration. By exploring the motivations behind this paradoxical choice as well as the complex relations between Jamia and Nehru's government, this article highlights some of Nehru's own ambiguities towards the ‘Gandhian’ legacy as well as to Muslim representation in secular India.

Based on fieldwork conducted in Kandhamal, Odisha in 2007–08, this article demonstrates how scripts about money, value, and indigeneity are used as exclusionary discourses by development state officials and caste Hindus to portray Indian tribals as failed citizens of the Indian development state. These discourses are used not only as a means of disciplining tribals as indigenous citizens, but also to elide other contradictions within the development state such as corruption, thereby sustaining ‘modern development’ as a project of perpetual deferral. However, this article also shows how Kandha tribals, in turn, appropriate these scripts to display their understanding of the shifting contours of indigenous citizenship and its mandates for entitlements from the development state and indigenous political agency. In so doing, this article demonstrates how historical discourses of money and indigeneity inform contemporary indigenous claims to citizenship. By attending to these discourses, it argues for indigeneity as a site to observe the folding-back of state power onto itself, as indigenous citizenship reanimates historical constructions of the adivasi as indigene but subverts these constructions by using a language of indigenous entitlement.

This article offers a comprehensive set of explanations for why people vote. Based on evidence from Indian elections, where voter turnouts remain consistently high—and rising—despite voting not being compulsory, the article shows that two broad sets of reasons exist. First, a set of transactional factors, labelled ‘money’ here, encompass within it the instrumental and coercive reasons that propel people to vote. Secondly, evidence shows that people also attribute ‘meaning’ to the act of voting itself so they vote for the sake of performing the act itself. Drawing from the wider literature and the author's own ethnographic work, including comparative ethnographic research conducted by a team across India, this article brings together these diverse set of reasons to propose a holistic explanation for why people vote.

In this article, by studying the candidate-nomination process of the two major political parties, I show how power is distributed within the political party in Bangladesh. I show that the general acceptance by scholars that political power lies in the hands of the innermost circle of the political-party leadership in Bangladesh is too simplistic. A more nuanced observation of power and influence within the party structure shows that, in the context of Bangladesh's clientelistic political system, which is based on reciprocity between patrons and clients and relies on the ability of middlemen to organize and mobilize (in order to disrupt through hartals and strikes), power is often in the hands of those mid-level leaders who are in charge of mobilizing because their demands cannot be ignored by the topmost leadership. Through studying the candidate-nomination process of the major political parties and using the Narayanganj mayoral election of 2011 as a case study, I answer questions such as whose interests political parties are representing, what channels of influence are being used, and why these channels exist.