The purpose of this paper is to supplement existing knowledge of British and Asian ‘country’ trade to selected parts of Southeast Asia by drawing upon British private papers and the records of Fort St George, Madras. The 1680s marked the peak of international trade in Siamunder king Narai before the wars and revolution there of 1687–88. The decade also saw the elimination of the last great independent entrepot, Banten, on the Java Sea in 1682, as well as the final, ultimately-futile, Dutch efforts to control the Malayan tin-trade north of Perak. The Dutch also began in 1685 and 1689 their intermittent attempts to monopolize key commodities in the Johor–Riau–Lingga sultánate at the southern end of Malacca Strait. In one sense, given Dutch success or at least pretensions, the region from Pegu and Tenasserim–Mergui through certain Malay ports and Aceh to Ayudhya and Tongking constituted what might loosely be called the free-trade zone of maritime Southeast Asia. It was also one in which, with the exception of Perak after 1745, the indigenous monarchies retained complete or extensive independence from European supervision. Into this zone, with occasional ventures to the smaller Indonesian ports, British country traders sailed for over a century, from Bowrey and Dampier in the 1680s to Light and Scott in the 1770s. What were the principal features of the markets they frequented?

This paper explores the unusually weak voice of Chinese war veterans in post-1949 politics society and culture. Although Chinese movies and television often feature military-related themes, it is rare to find frank and politicized depictions of China's military conflicts. In this respect, China departs sharply from the former Soviet Union—China's Leninist model for most of its formative years—as well as Vietnam, European inter-war fascist regimes and democracies. This paper argues that the relative weakness of authentic military voices in China can be traced to several peculiar features of modern Chinese history. The nature of warfare in China, as well as the absence of a national army, veteran organizations and a consensus over the legitimacy about China's wars, has led many to question the validity of veterans’ claims for a higher political and cultural status. Rather than allow veterans the space to portray war as they experienced it, intellectual elites in various cultural and propaganda offices dominate national war memory, presenting a simplistic and artificial rendering of China's wars.

An extensive body of literature has grown up in recent years devoted to the analysis of the causes of what is certainly the most pressing economic issue of our time: the unequal distribution of the world's wealth and income, and in particular what in shorthand may be called ‘the underdevelopment of the Third World’. Tremendous progress has been made by radical as well as more conventional social scientists, and our understanding of the processes of interaction, economic as well as otherwise, between the metropolitan core of western colonial powers and indigenous societies in the periphery has benefited commensurately. Naturally, the debate has tended to focus on the major sectorsinvolved in the processes of economic growth and modernization, agriculture and industry, with infrastructure a poor third. Nevertheless, it is somewhat surprising to observe that what to many students ofEuropean expansion has appeared to constitute the essential element intheir ability to explore, gain access to, and exploit the periphery, hasbeen completely neglected: ocean transport, or to put it differently, themain body of the infrastructure of the world economy. In some ways, no dependence is felt to be so absolute as that of the country that sees itscoastal traffic dominated and its exports carried by foreign-owned ships.

This account of the Burmese Rebellion of 1930–1931, and the role of its leader, Saya San, emphasizes the importance of traditional elements in what is commonly regarded as a nationalist uprising. The apparently nationalistic symbols of the Rebellion had magical and protective functions that were not appreciated by the British at the time of the Rebellion. The importance of nationalism in Burma in the 1930s has been overestimated, while the strength and continuity of traditional appeals has been incompletely understood. A comparison of the tactics of U Ottama, a cosmopolitan revolutionary, with the less modern but more successful efforts of Saya San, suggests that the rural Burmese of 1930 were more responsive to symbolic appeals than to programmatic designs for reform. The Western-educated elite of Burma were at first surprised and perhaps embarrassed by the primitive uprising in the countryside, but they eventually embraced the Rebellion and its symbols. Thus the Saya San Rebellion was a key stage in the transition of Burmese nationalism; to the urban elite, it vividly demonstrated the survival of traditional values in the countryside, while proving that a peasant uprising could achieve only temporary success without specific and negotiable aims, which required modern political skills.

Malaysia's indigenous peoples continue to suffer numerous grievous injustices, including appropriation of their ancestral lands and socio-economic deprivation. In large part because their voices of resistance to development policies have gone unheard by the authorities, a growing number of individuals and communities have taken their grievances to the nation's courts. In particular, they have pleaded for judicial intervention to address alleged breaches of statutory land and other rights by governments and their contractors, and for recognition of native title at common law. In the landmark 1996 Adong case, the High Court ruled that Malaysian jurisprudence recognizes native title, thus bringing Malaysia into line with a number of other countries that share an English-derived legal system. The concept has been upheld in subsequent High Court, Court of Appeal, and Federal Court judgments. In spite of the rulings in favour of indigenous parties, the federal government, along with certain of the state governments, has continued to adopt an adversarial approach to indigenous land issues. An encouraging development is the reported willingness of governments in Perak and Selangor to tackle indigenous land rights issues through mediation rather than litigation. This paper summarizes seven court cases concerning alleged breaches of statutory rights and four cases dealing with native title at common law; it also looks at certain issues arising from the cases, as well as the responses of communities and governments to the various court judgments.

‘An imperial policy is essentially a commercial policy’

(Charles Addis, 1905)

‘Look at the way we have swindled the Chinese in the case of the Pekin Syndicate and still worse in the case of the Chinese Engineering and Mining Company’

(G.E. Morrison, 1906)

As many of us know, 1999 was a particularly important year for the Sikh community worldwide as it marked the three-hundredth anniversary of the Khalsa. The hype and fanfare which surrounded this milestone had of course drowned out reference to virtually all of that year's other Sikh events of note. These events may not have been as profound as Guru Gobind Singh's declaration of 1699, but they are still very important and denote landmarks in the history of the Sikh people.Originally presented at the 26th annual South Asia Conference at the University of Wisconsin at Madison held in October 1999 this paper has greatly benefited from the suggestions and criticisms of a number of friends and colleagues. Most significantly I appreciate the help and suggestions of Konrad Sadkowski, Christine Fenech, Hew McLeod, Stella Sandahl, Harish Puri, Sabinderjit Singh Sagar, Himadri Bannerjee, and the anonymous reviewer of this article selected by the editor of Modern Asian Studies.

One of the principal difficulties in arriving at a constitutional settlement in India during the 1940s stemmed from the inherent conflict between Congress's emphasis upon the principle of majority rule and fluid political alignments and the Muslim League's commitment to the Islamic conviction that numerical configurations were irrelevant to politics and that what mattered was the rigid ideological divide between Muslims and non-Muslims.

When universal manhood suffrage was promulgated, with much eclat, on 5 May 1925, its friends and its enemies both agreed that this act was a new high-water mark in the thirty-five year history of Japanese parliamentarianism. Of a national population of nearly 40 million in 1890, the first electorate had been carefully confined to 400,000 adult males who met a stiff property test. By the early 1920s inflation, population growth, and eased voting requirements had gradually spread the franchise to some 3 million persons, still a mere fraction of the populace. Then, at a stroke, the universal suffrage law of 1925 gave the vote to males aged twenty-five and older, swelling the pool of electors four-fold to more than 13 million.

The fate of urban centres in eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century India has attracted attention far in excess of their supposed importance as population centres. It is assumed that flourishing towns are an indicator of economic development and change in their hinterlands. Muslim historians traditionally laid stress on the opulence of towns as a gauge of the wealth of divisions of the Moghul Empire. Recently, Indian historians of the Medieval period have returned to the theme, claiming for the Moghul cities large populations, developed ‘industries’ and sophisticated credit systems. Throughout these works there is an implicit paralled drawn with the point it is suggested that far from being mere administrative centers and entrepots for ‘aristocratic’ long-distance trade, these cities were exchange marts for wealthy hinterlands where agreculturalists exchanged thier products of ‘urban industries’. It is but a short step to argue that these cities weakened by the anarchy of the eighteenth century, were finally ruined by the negligent commercial amorality of the East India Company. The claim by early British writers that the security of British rule encouraged the growth of urban communities in which merchants secured relief from the vexations of local potentates and innumerable minor transit duties is rejected This argument for town decline first revived by Professor Irfan Habib almost as a throwaway, has recently been followed by other younger Indian Marxist historians.

Things were not right in the Kantō region during the early nineteenth century. In his memoirs, Mastsudaira Sadanobu, architect of the Kansei Reforms, lamented the sorry state of the villages in Edo's hinterland:

Much land throughout the Kantō is going to waste for want of cultivators. All the people of some villages have left for Edo, leaving only the headman behind. … Many Kantō villagers are suffering great hardship. Babies are killed, the population has declined, and land has gone to waste.

The British Indian empire, like the empires before it, depended on a measure of collaboration with the ruled. But the raj's systems of collaboration were neither static nor uniform. In the decade after 1900 some of the Indian princes, and the Maharaja of Kolhapur in particular, worked closely with the British to stem the rising tide of militant nationalism. This essay attempts to uncover the reasons for this collaboration-reasons which suggest that collaboration was always a conditional bargain, reflecting the immediate interests of both sides.

The Marco Polo Bridge Incident on 7 July 1937 has been commonly regarded as the beginning of the second Sino-Japanese war. The early days of the war were a history of rapid Japanese advances and, inversely, of the equally fast retreat of the Chinese. The Chinese Nationalist Government evacuated Nanking and moved westward to the Wuhan area in late November 1937. Central China soon became untenable in face of heavy Japanese reinforcements; the Chinese government again evacuated in October 1938, this time much further west to Chungking in Szechwan. There was no declaration of war and China clearly had the sympathy of Britain and the United States. The two countries continued to recognize the government at Chungking, under the leadership of Chiang Kai-shek, as the government of China, despite the fact that it retained control only over the south-west corner of the country. Pearl Harbor strengthened the tie of relations; the Chungking government won Britain, the United States, and the Netherlands as allies in its colossal struggle against Japan.

In a recent article published in the Journal of Military History, Arthur Waldron noted that war in Chinese history has been ‘treated at best as a largely unexamined context’. One has only to look at the cursory treatment given by most textbooks to the incessant civil wars of China's ‘warlord’ period (usually dated from 1916 to 1926) to see the truth of this statement. In the above article, Waldron seeks to remedy some of this neglect by pointing out the important relationship in this period between war and the course of modern Chinese nationalism. Although less ambitious, this article also seeks to explore a more specific, yet also largely unexamined, aspect of this relationship, namely the emergence of anti-militarism, or more specifically anti-warlordism, as a defining theme in modern Chinese nationalism.

This article focuses on how the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) insurgency performed de facto sovereignty and public authority in Northeastern Sri Lanka. It is situated within the wider academic debate on governance by state and non-state actors. We venture to unravel the complex linkages between the LTTE's governance practices and legitimation strategies by looking at narratives, performances, and inscriptions. While monopolizing the justice and policing sectors, in other sectors the LTTE operated pragmatically in conjunction with the state. The organization tried to generate and sustain public authority and legitimacy through a variety of violent and non-violent practices and symbols. It ‘mimicked’ statehood by deploying, among others, policing, uniforms, ceremonies, nationalist songs, commemorations of combatants, and the media. This not only consolidated its grip on the Northeast, but also engineered a level of support and compliance. We conclude that the LTTE's governance included practices that were created and carried out independently from the Sri Lankan state, while others took shape within a pre-existing political order and service provision by the state. The article elucidates the LTTE's mimicry of the state, as well as the operation of parallel structures and hybrid forms of state-LTTE collaboration. This facilitates a nuanced understanding of rebel governance beyond a simple state versus non-state binary.

While historians of South Asia have examined in elaborate detail critiques of sati and child marriage in the Hindu community, a similar approach to Muslim familial reform also needs serious attention. By investigating discourses on the question of polygyny1, this paper is an attempt in this direction. In the light of these discourses, the paper argues that polygyny, influenced by modern sensibilities of reform and social change, underwent different interpretations during the colonial period. The debate on polygyny was not homogenous and uniform and research reveals a plurality of viewpoints on the subject. The argument was often based on an assumption of sexual difference which, in some cases, emphasized the infertility and reproductive incapacity of the first wife, and in others, presented an idealization of domestic ideology where the second wife made the ‘perfect’ home. Simultaneously, there were also strong critiques of polygyny by women writers who underscored the misery of the first wife. These debates do not necessarily settle the question in favour of a particular position, but reflect a conversation held on marriage, children and family, and express how love, conjugality and affection were narrated in the public sphere.

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.

No less than in modern times, law under imperial systems can do many things. Its enactment can be a focus for bureaucratic debate and struggle. Its implementation may provoke bitter resistance or creative adaptations. It can be ignored or it can spur unpredictable social change. In eighteenth-century southwestern China, law did all this: issues of law are paramount in the burst of Qing (1644–1911) expansion and Han Chinese colonization which brought many local non-Han societies directly under imperial governance for the first time. This paper examines both its development and its effects in the remote region of the Eastern Miao (Hmong) (see map), a group based on settled agriculture in the Hunan/Guizhou provincial border zone west of the Yuan river. It begins with administrative incorporation (which occurred in two stages in 1703–4 and 1727–32) and ends on the eve of the Miao uprising and its suppression in the 1790s.

This paper considers the abolition of the mui tsai (young female bondservants) as it unfolded in British Malaya, and challenges the overemphasis on Hong Kong as the primary focus of mui tsai scholarship. While the mui tsai system was defended as a time-honoured Chinese tradition, this paper uses new material to show that trans-racial considerations figured prominently in mui tsai abolition in Malaya, particularly in helping to recast it as a wider problem of child welfare. It is argued that this neglected aspect of mui tsai abolition only comes clearly to light in the Malayan case; for only in the intensely multi-racial conditions of peninsular Malaya could the question be asked: ‘Do you own non-Chinese mui tsai?’