This essay examines the Indias' political leadership's romantic engagement with the idea of developmental planning in post-colonial India between 1947 and 1960. It looks at the experience of planning in India between 1947 and 1960. It explores some of the early ideas about developmental planning and the setting up of the Planning Commission in March 1950. Although there was widespread acceptance of the need for planning there was little consensus on the kind of planning that was required, or how it should be carried out. This essay examines attempts, which were made to institutionalise the planning idea. It looks at the heady ascent of the Planning Commission as the pre-eminent economic decision-making body in Independent India and the debates and contentions that took place in the early years of its formation. It argues that the 1956 foreign exchange crisis marked a climactic moment for planning. Thereafter, as far as economic decision-making was concerned, the locus of power shifted from the Planning Commission to other governmental agencies and the developmental planning process itself came to be over-shadowed by pragmatic economic management pursued by official agencies. Thus, in overall terms, developmental planning failed to establish strong institutional foundations in independent India and, in all this, the experience of the 1950s was formative.

Ecologies of production and state classifications shaped Chinese imperial frontier policies. In Chinese classical debates about the effect of environment on human character, the dominant view held that all peoples could become civilised, but a dissenting view held that barbarians could never change their ways. Nomadic pastoralists likewise debated whether to adopt certain Han cultural practices or reject them. Chinese dynasties often accepted diversity, but at certain times tried to eliminate difference by persuasion or by force. Three cases illustrate these processes during the Qing period: the relationship between Manchus and Mongols, Qing policies towards aboriginal peoples and the settlement of Taiwan, and Qing policies towards southwestern mountain peoples. In each case, policies came out of the interaction of ethnic categorization, views on cultural transformation and frontier environments. When Qing rulers lost the ability to recognise such cultural distinctions, they lost a key to the endurance of the empire.

In the 1920s and 1930s, the Modern Girl emerged in advertisements, cinema and public discourse all over the globe. While she was implicated in nationalist projects of social reform in post-war Britain and Japan, in multicultural, port-city environments such as Penang, the Modern Girl was central to a discourse of ‘cosmopolitanism’. Lively debates about the Modern Girl in Penang's English press wrestled with the tensions between cultural authenticity, diversity and modernity. Male and female readers of the Straits Echo, from different ethnic backgrounds, engaged with each other in a shared public space about issues ranging from education and politics to women's liberality and fashion. The Modern Girl thus represents a new way of looking at the history of colonial Malaysia in the interwar period: one not focused on ethnic nationalism and communalism, but on a shared, multi-ethnic mode of belonging rooted in the globalist environment of the late colonial port-city.

This article focuses on Meiji Japan's policies towards the Ryukyus and the Taiwanese aboriginal territories in the early 1870s. The Meiji Government incorporated the Ryukyus by abolishing the kingdom in 1872 and sent expeditionary forces to the Taiwanese aboriginal territories on the pretext of the massacre of the shipwrecked Ryukyuans by the aboriginal tribes in 1874. Many Japanese and non-Japanese historians have argued that Japan started aggression on China by annexing its tributary state and invading its territories. In this article, I contend that the Ryukyu–Taiwan policies in the early Meiji period grew out of Japanese concerns over national security and prestige in a Western-dominated international environment but had no intention to secure Japan's independence and to aggrandise its national prestige by encroaching on China's territorial sovereignty.

Debates on Islam, citizenship and women's rights have been closely interconnected in Pakistan, from the time of the state's creation in 1947 through to the present day. This article explores the extent to which during the 1950s campaigns to reform Muslim personal law (which received a boost thanks to the outcry against 1955 polygamous marriage of the then Prime Minister, Muhammad Ali Bogra) were linked with wider lobbying by female activists to secure for women their rights as Pakistani citizens alongside men. Through a close examination of the discussions that were conducted on the pages of English-language newspapers, such as Dawn and the Pakistan Times, it highlights in particular what female contributors thought about issues that were affecting the lives of women in Pakistan during its early, and often challenging, nation-building years.

Indian big business campaigned for economically nationalistic policies during the interwar period. Existing scholarship is sharply divided as to the reason for the same. One group of scholars claim that Indian big business as a class rose above its economic interests and actively joined and even led the anti-imperial nationalist movement during the period. The other group contests the above view and proposes that Indian big business was guided by business interests while rallying for economic nationalism. Significantly the interwar period is also marked by a growing antagonism between Indian big business and European commercial class apparently on racial lines, and they held diametrically opposite positions on most issues of commercial relevance. This development is cited as evidence in support of the former view. In this paper I present data of the European business collective of Kanpur, that exhibited almost identical positions as Indian big business, on several significant economic and political issues during the interwar period. From a detailed analysis of the nature of this collective (that had interests in cotton textiles, leather and sugar, amongst others) I have tried to re-configure the debate on the character of Indian big business during the interwar period.

This essay examines the minzu identification in Yunnan (1950s–1980s). First of all, it will introduce the terms of ethnicity and minzu as used by the Chinese. It will then examine the minzu identification in Yunnan with a general overview, followed by a critique on the complexity of classification, which looks especially at the many previously ignored roles including local governments, ethnic groups, ethnic elites, ethnic masses and contingency in the process. The essay argues that classifications varied case by case, without any consistent or standard criteria. Furthermore, it also discusses the application of Soviet influence on the project, particularly the definition of four-common raised by Stalin. While arguing that there was little Soviet influence on the result of classification, the essay intends to historicize the project to illustrate the historical continuity and development in terms of ethnic and frontier managements between imperial and modern China.

Relying on three inter-Asian colonial debates from French Indochina, this paper attempts to widen our analytical approach to the study of colonialism in Indochina beyond the ‘colonizer’–‘colonized’ opposition by factoring in the relationships among the diverse Asian colonized living within the colonial state without downplaying the important role Western colonialism played in transforming those very relationships or being affected by them. The French Indochinese case is helpful, for it suggests that inter-Asian connections did anything vanish, but rather intensified because of the colonial experience. Numerous Lao, Khmer, Vietnamese and Chinese subject elites continued to engage each other and the French in fascinating and sometimes heated debates about the political, legal, cultural and economic place each group held in French Indochina – or did not want to hold. This directly affected how they came to interact with one another in new ways, essential to understanding the complexity of the colonial encounter at the time and can provide new insights into post-colonial and international history. Lastly, this wider approach to studying the colonial encounter allows us to view the French side of the colonial equation from a new vantage point.

Mumbādevī is the patron Goddess of the city of Mumbai, one of the largest and most cosmopolitan cities of Asia. Local traditions say that Mumbādevī was a Koḷī Goddess and worshipped by the indigenous Koḷī fisher community for centuries. However, since the turn of the twentieth century the temple of Mumbādevī and the rituals surrounding the Goddess have gradually been Sanskritised. Today, Mumbādevī is more closely associated with the Gujarati community. This paper examines this transformation and in doing so reflects on the survival of Mumbādevī, the ongoing popularity of Goddess worship in Mumbai and the failure of Hindu fundamentalists to subordinate the Mother Goddesses of Mumbai to a more limited range of Hindu Gods.

The consolidation of the Delhi Sultanate coincided with the Mongol devastation of Transoxiana, Iran and Afghanistan. This paper studies the Persian literature of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries invested as it was in the projection of the court of the Delhi Sultans as the ‘sanctuary of Islam’, where the Muslim community was safe from the marauding infidel Mongols. The binaries on which the qualities of the accursed Mongols and the monolithic Muslim community were framed ignored the fact that a large number of Sultanate elites and monarchs were of Turkish/Mongol ethnicity or had a history of prior service in their armed contingents. While drawing attention to the narrative strategies deployed by Sultanate chroniclers to obscure the humble frontier origins of its lords and masters, my paper also elaborates on steppe traditions and rituals prevalent in early-fourteenth-century Delhi. All of these underlined the heterogeneity of Muslim Sultanate society and politics in the capital, a complexity that the Persian litterateurs were loath to acknowledge in their records.

These papers were originally presented at the retirement conference for Prof. John F. Richards, which was held at Duke University on September 29–30, 2006. The conference, entitled ‘Expanding Frontiers in South Asian and World History’, brought together students, colleagues and associates of Prof. Richards to discuss themes that have marked Richards's work as a historian in an academic career of almost 40 years. These themes focused on ‘frontiers’ in multiple contexts, all relating to Richards's work: frontiers and state building; frontiers and environmental change; cultural frontiers; frontiers, trade and drugs; and frontiers and world history.

Despite the contemporary importance of the Ridge forest to the city of Delhi as its most important ‘green lung’, the concept of urban forestry has been explored neither by urban historians studying Delhi nor by environmental historians. This article places the colonial efforts to plant a forest on the Delhi Ridge from 1883 to 1913 within the context of the gradual deforestation of the countryside around Delhi and the local colonial administration's preoccupation with encouraging arboriculture. This project of colonial forestry prioritized the needs of the white colonizers living in Delhi, while coming into conflict repeatedly with indigenous peasants. With the decision to transfer the capital to Delhi in 1911, the afforestation of the Delhi Ridge received a further stimulus. Town planners' visions of a building the capital city of New Delhi were meant to assert the grandeur of British rule through imposing buildings, with the permanence of the British in India being emphasised by the strategic location of the ruins of earlier empires within the city. The principles of English landscape gardening inspired the planning of New Delhi, with the afforestation of the Delhi Ridge being undertaken to provide a verdant backdrop for—the Government House and the Secretariat—the administrative centre of British government in India. Imperial notions of landscaping, which were central to the afforestation of the Delhi Ridge epitomised colonial rule and marginalized Indians.

The spectre of the 1937 ‘Rape of Nanking’ continues to haunt China and Japan. Sixty years ago in Tokyo, the International Military Tribunal for the Far East (IMTFE) announced its definitive ‘judgement’ of what happened in Nanking. This judgement purported to be intractable. The legal process used to reach it produced a disputed picture instead. The resulting narrative confusion continues to inform how memory of Nanjing is shaped, used and contested. This paper explores the construction of ‘Rape of Nanking’ narratives at the IMTFE. By demonstrating the inherently contested nature of narratives produced by adversarial legal proceedings, it argues that using courts as a panacea for postwar restoration and as validators of traumatic narratives is both short-sighted and ineffective. The IMTFE exemplifies the inadequacy of trial-based post-conflict reconciliation. It is hoped that the lessons learned from Tokyo's limitations will benefit the ongoing quest for tenable models of international justice.

This article frames the debate about mui-tsai (meizai, female bondservants) in late nineteenth-century Hong Kong within changing conceptions of the colony's political, geographical and cultural position. Whereas some colonial officials saw the mui-tsai system as a national shame that challenged Britain's commitment to ending slavery, others argued that it was an archaic custom that would eventually dissolve as China modernized. The debate also showed the rise of a class of Chinese elites who had accumulated enough power to defend the mui-tsai system as a time-honoured Chinese custom, even while acknowledging that in Hong Kong they lived beyond the boundaries of Chinese sovereignty. Challenging notions of the reach of the colonial state and showing how colonial policies often had unintended consequences, this debate also reveals the analytical and explanatory weakness of concepts such as ‘colonial discourse’ or ‘the colonial mind’.

This article explores the political dynamics of modern Chinese cultural conservatism. It proceeds from the premise that modern Chinese conservatism, as distinct from traditionalism, was a response to modernity and, as such, a part of modernity. The article identifies the conservative with the nationalist, but not vice versa, and understands politico-cultural conservatism as politico-cultural nationalism. It will first trace the rise of modern Chinese conservative thought, revisit the ideas of two noted cultural conservatives Liang Shuming and Zhang Junmai, examine the politics of China-based cultural reconstruction, and then explore the conservative thought of the war period (1937–1945) to illustrate the interplay of war, culture and nationalism. It argues, basically, that although the conservatives did not defend the prevailing socio-political order as a whole, their understanding of politics from a cultural perspective was nuanced and that they stood in an ambiguous relationship with the existing regime and the party-state.

Japanese images of China have much to tell us about the way Japan sees its own modernisation and its place in the international system. Contrary to popular belief, Japan did not turn unabashedly toward the USA after 1945. During the first decade after World War II, a number of important Japanese radical historians and thinkers decided that modernisation could be accomplished without the help of the West. Just when many in Japan were looking to America and Europe as exemplars of modernisation, others looked instead to revolutionary China and its past struggles against Japanese colonialism in the construction of a very different historical position from that ordinarily associated with the early post-war years. Certain Japanese historians, inspired by the push toward decolonisation in Asia, set about writing the history of the present in ways that aligned Japan with modern Chinese history. Even though China had just been liberated from Japanese colonial rule, Japanese Marxists saw their own position—under American imperialism—as historically and politically congruous with China's past war of resistance against Japan (1937–45). Through campaigns to develop a kind of cultural Marxism on the margins of Japanese society, they sought to bring about post-war Japanese ‘national liberation’ from American hegemony in ways that consciously simulated past Chinese resistance to Imperial Japan. Replacing Japan's own cultural Marxist traditions from the pre-war era with the more palpable and acceptable example of China, they also hoped a new form of Asian internationalism could remedy the problem of Japan's wartime past. The historical irony associated with this discursive twist deferred to future generations the problem of how the Left* would come to terms with the past.

This article discusses the perpetration of Orientalism in the arena of contemporary South Asian literature in English: no longer an Orientalism propagated by Occidentals, but ironically enough, by Orientals, albeit by diasporic Orientals. This process, which is here termed as Re-Orientalism, dominates and, to a significant extent, distorts the representation of the Orient, seizing voice and platform, and once again consigning the Oriental within the Orient to a position of ‘The Other’. The article begins by analysing and establishing the dominant positionality of diasporic South Asian women writers relative to their non-diasporic counterparts in the genre, particularly within the last half decade. It then identifies three problems with the techniques employed by some diasporic authors which have exacerbated the detrimental effects of Re-Orientalism; the pre-occupation with producing writing which is recognisably within the South Asian genre, the problem of generalisation and totalisation, and the insidious nature of ‘truth claims’.