It has been assumed that the politicians and political organizations of late colonial Burma were mere shams behind which the real affairs of government were conducted by British governors and civil servants. It also has been assumed that what mass politics there was among the Burmese in the 1930s was dominated by nationalist youth, especially the Thakins, and monks who were untainted by contact and collaboration with the British and those Burmese who associated with them. Those members of the Burmese political élite who attempted to work in government and party politics during the last pre-war years, therefore, have been seen at best as mere reformers and at worst as callous opportunists.

One of the principal concerns of China's ‘self-strengthening movement’ in the T'ung-chih period (1862–1874) was the question of military reform. Organizational change was not a central issue, for the Ch'ing dynasty had already found in the innovative armies known as yung-ying (lit., ‘brave battalions’) a comparatively effective military system compatible with existing economic and administrative institutions. But changes in training methods—especially officer training—and weapons came to be viewed as essential to the self-strengthening effort. Experience in the huge and devastating Taiping Rebellion (1850–1864), together with the repeated humiliations suffered by China at the hands of foreigners in the two decades following the Opium War of 1839–1842, had brought the Ch'ing government to a greater awareness of the need for introducing Western-style weapons and training in Chinese armies. Particularly convincing was the effective use of foreign troops and foreign-officered contingents (such as the vaunted Ever-Victorious Army) against the Taipings in the area of Shanghai during 1862. But in Chinese eyes, the employment of foreign troops and officers could never be anything more than a temporary expedient. Ch'ing policy-makers aimed at eliminating dependence on foreigners as soon as possible, while building China's own military capabilities in order to contend with both internal and external challenges. These twin goals lay at the heart of self-strengthening.

Influential citizens of the French city of Lyon embraced the cause of expansion during the nineteenth century. Religious zeal led to the founding of the Oeuvre de la Propagation de la Foi during the Restoration, and local Catholics continued to lend fervent support to overseas missionary endeavors. But even when the religious impulse towards expansion stood at its zenith, the Lyonnais did not overlook the more concrete advantages to be secured through the acquisition of Algeria and the opening of China to Western trade. Economic motivation took on far more importance during the second half of the century when the devastation of French sericulture by pebrine forced the magnates of the silk industry, the most important local industry and the only French industry dominant in the international market, to look elsewhere for new supplies of raw silk. The Far East, the world's greatest silk-producing region, became the focus of attention, and the Lyon Chamber of Commerce, the most effective local organization devoted to the cause of imperialism, supported the opening of Japan, called for the wringing of new concessions from China, and backed the acquisition and development of Indochina. Just as within the larger pattern of French municipal imperialism the business communities of Bordeaux and Marseille acquired vital stakes in West Africa and North Africa, so also Lyon's business community came to play a pivotal role in French undertakings in Eastern Asia where the Lyonnais soon pushed their activities beyond the confines of the all-important silk trade.

Nothing foments institutional change so much as a sense of past institutional failure. The New Order that came into being as a result of the October 1965 assumption of power by the ABRI (Armed Forces of the Republic of Indonesia) inherited a crisis situation in economic policy. Decades of economic decay and capital dis-investment had brought the Indonesian economy to the brink of catastrophe. However, just as all revolutions are born in an ancien régime, so the heritage of the bygone Sukarno era left control of the ‘commanding heights’ of the economy at the disposal of the state and thereby eased the institutional transformation.

Filipino political leaders have been addressing themselves to the issue of municipal reform since the dawn of the twentieth century, but discussion of the issue never reached a high intensity until the then Institute of Public Administration of the University of the Philippines (established in 1954 under the aegis of American technical assistance) defined the issues more clearly. The thrust of this renewed enthusiasm in local government reform included greater local powers, lesser national supervision over local administrative activities, and lesser legislative meddling in municipal affairs. Being a highly centralized political system under which local and national officials (both elected and appointed) have created a civic culture consisting of national review of some local administrative decisions and local dependence upon congressional pork barrels for the financing of municipal projects, any advocacy of local autonomy had to come from the top of the Philippine political totem pole and any legitimation of municipal reform policy must take place in Congress.