After half a century of intense debate, landlordism in traditional China continues to be one of the most controversial subjects in Asian Studies circles. The earlier literature on this topic tends to be contradictory and, at times, highly polemical. Two loosely defined schools of thought have emerged since the 1930s: (A) those scholars who argue that landlord-tenant relations were primarily exploitative with the balance of power passing increasingly to urban-based absentee landlords, and (B) those who maintain that a high rate of tenancy is not particularly unique to the twentieth century and that the relationship between landlord and tenant was not uniformly exploitative. The present paper does not fit neatly into either school, although specific elements of the following argument can be isolated to support opposing sides of the debate. I intend to explore one form of traditional Chinese tenancy, known in the literature as ‘hereditary’ or ‘permanent’ tenancy, which was common throughout many parts of Southeastern China until the Communist land reform campaigns of the early 1950s. The tenants were hereditary in the sense that the usufruct passed patrilineally from father to son while the actual title to the land remained in the hands of powerful lineage corporations. The tenants lived in satellite villages near the landlords' communities and were overshadowed in every way by their dominant neighbors.

European enclaves were a characteristic feature of the sixteenth and seventeenth-century European presence in Asia, serving as centers of trade and European society far beyond the frontiers of metropolitan Europe. Yet to consider them as phenomena belonging only to the history of European Asia would be a mistake. Despite the protection of fortifications and control of the sea, the enclaves could never be completely isolated from their hinterlands, for not only did they receive their trade goods from the interior, but the changing local political stituation frequently threatened their survival. Moreover, the enclaves themselves had their definite non-European character, a population of local merchants, artisans and laborers which outnumbered the Europeans. These resident Asians provided goods, services and often capital for European trade; they were, as Holden Furber has observed, partners in European enterprise.

The United Malays National Organization has been the strongest Malay political party since its foundation in May 1946; its leaders place it pre-eminent in the history of Malay nationalism and Malayan independence. Needless to say, these claims have been disputed by its opponents and queried by its students; not only have the origins of Malay nationalism been traced to the pre-war era, but also, it can be argued, in its early years the party's leaders were more concerned to safeguard Malay rights vis à vis the other races of Malaya, and were more inclined to collaborate with the British authorities in opposition to radicalism within their own community, than to struggle for self-government. Nevertheless, the formation of U.M.N.O. was a remarkable event. For the first time a mass and pan-peninsula Malay movement emerged to attack British policy. Its popular support, forceful leadership and effective organization surprised Briton and Malay alike. U.M.N.O. amounted to an unprecedented Malay response to colonial rule.

The eighteenth century in India has generally been described as a period of great turbulence, characterized by march and counter-march, rising and falling fortunes, and bewildering political intrigue. Many historians, focusing on this aspect, have dismissed the century as merely an unsavory hiatus between the collapse of the Mughal Empire and the rise of British domination. Yet there was more to the century than the march and counter-march of armies. The other aspect of the period was the emergence of strong successor states in Gujerat, Bengal, Oudhe, Malwa, Hyderabad, Mysore, and the Punjab. Recently, historians have begun exploring these successor states, looking both back towards the Mughal administrative and ideological heritage and forward towards their role as princely states in British India. There are also important issues within the century itself, such as the role of successor states in developing regional language and consciousness, and successor states as channels of economic and social mobility.

In the opening chapter of his study of Agricultural Trends in India, 1891–1947, George Blyn explains the double significance of determining crop production trends in a society where agriculture is the largest single sector of the economy. Firstly, crop trends reveal the nature of changes in production and provide the basis for estimating changes in consumption. Secondly, since availability of crops for consumption depends not only on output but also on foreign trade, changes in cropping patterns provide a basis for estimating the pace and direction of commercialization of the economy. Blyn's study covers the fifty-six years before Indian independence and provides detailed analysis of such topics as aggregate crop trends for the eighteen crops that constituted most of India's agriculture. More recently, there have been a number of studies concerned with the agricultural history of nineteenth-century India. My own work is concerned with the social and economic history of the Central Provinces for the period 1861–1921. Within this broad subject an important specific topic is that of cropping patterns. This paper provides data on crop trends in this part of India for a period of fifty-four years from 1867 to 1921 and evaluates and analyzes this data. Its object is to establish the broad trends in cropping patterns and to shed some light on methods of agriculture in the Central Provinces in the later nineteenth century and the early part of the twentieth century. (Provincial data are given in Tables 1.1 and 1.2 at the end of the paper.)

Territorial integration and resistance to it by the Malay States of Kelantan and Trengganu are not mutually exclusive categories of response to political modernization. Unlike the peoples of East Malaysia (‘Malaysian Borneo’) the population of eastern Malaya is overwhelmingly Malay in language and culture. Thus resistance to centralizing pressures has rarely had separatist overtones but has tended to express rejection of particular developments in the west coast polity from a standpoint of moral superiority. Resistance is often an expression of intense empathy with the condition of the Malays in other parts of the Peninsula, and should not be interpreted as a failure of national integration. By a curious dialectic, resistance takes on qualities of an integrative process.

The only really unique feature of the Mappilla outbreaks which occurred in Malabar District during the period of British rule was that each attack was conducted as a kind of suicidal jihād, in which the Mappillas involved intentionally sought to become shahīds or martyrs for the faith. No other South Asian Muslims who took part in protest movements to achieve goals similar to those which underlay the Mappilla attacks resorted to suicidal jihāds as a means of coercion. Yet no satisfactory explanation has ever been given to account for the Mappillas' peculiar militancy. Modern scholars have generally ignored the question, while the few British officials who tried to answer it usually argued, or implicitly suggested, that the attacks represented the inherent fanaticism of Islam. This explanation is, of course, vitiated by the very uniqueness of the Mappillas' suicidal ritual.

The city has usually been first of all a ‘place’—a clearly defined space visibly possessed and controlled by human beings and often sacred to their gods, a statement of man imposed upon the chaotic and threatening vastness of nature. It has represented the desire of man to master his own world, creating an environment reflecting his powers of reason, his desire for convenience and order, and his aesthetic predilection for beauty and meaningfulness in his surroundings.

In any society the dominant groups are the ones with the most to hide about the way society works. Very often therefore truthful analyses are bound to have a critical ring, to seem like exposures rather than objective statements, … For all students of human society, sympathy with the victims of historical processes and skepticism about the victors' claims provide essential safeguards against being taken in by the dominant mythology. A scholar who tries to be objective needs these feelings as part of his ordinary working equipment.

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.

It may be asserted with some assurance that the very name ‘Siraiki’ will be quite unfamiliar to most readers of this article. The well-known predilection of most South Asianists for working from English sources and their concentration upon the larger Indian scene, where such sources are so much more abundant than for Pakistan, may contribute to this unfamiliarity; but it is doubtless due principally to the quite recent introduction of the term on a general scale in its homeland. In simple terms, ‘Sirāikī’ is the language of the middle Indus valley, while the ‘Sirāikī movement’ that seeks to improve its standing is based in the central part of this region, the South-West Panjab, principally in its most important cities, Multan and Bahawalpur. This article sets out to inform a wider audience about the movement which is attempting to assert the language's separate identity and to secure for it increased official recognition.

A Unianimous decision of the Viceroy's Council was taken on 14 March 1878 to establish a check over the vernacular press in India. This was Act IX of 1878, an act for ‘the better control of publications in Oriental languages’. It was to control ‘seditious writing’ in the vernacular newspapers everywhere in the country, except the south. Too much was being written in these newspapers of the ‘injustice and tyranny’ of the British government, ‘its utter want of consideration towards its native subjects, and the insolence and pride of Englishmen in India’.One hundred and fifty-nine extracts from vernacular newspapers of the North-Western Provinces, Punjab, Bengal and Bombay were produced before the Supreme Council as evidence of existing sedition. Surprised at its own importance, the vernacular press staggered into the eighties of the nineteenth century. The crucial demand for ajudicial trial in case of an accusation of sedition against an editor was never conceded by the government, although in October 1878 the act was modified in minor respects. The important thing was that the government from an almost complete unawareness had come to be so preoccupied with the vernacular press. What was the nature of the vernacular press in India in the 1870s and how wide was its range?

Chinese secret societies have usually proved to be enigmatic topics for scholarly study. Although a considerable amount of writing and research in several languages has been published about Chinese secret societies during the past hundred years, the topic remains beset by a variety of contradictory information.

In recent years, studies of the mechanics of European colonialism in Asia and Africa have largely focused on the creation of collaborative systems and dependent economic structures within the colonized societies. The part that troops played in carving out a colonial territory and crushing primary resistance is often described, but seldom do accounts of colonial rule examine in detail the means of coercion employed to maintain a favourable political and economic environment. If, however, it is even partly true that power grows out of the barrel of a gun, then discussion of colonial situations must take into consideration the role that the régime's armed agencies played in containing indigenous political movements and in themselves constituting one of the principal pillars of collaboration.

The study of the British demission of power in India has focused on the political story, on the nationalist pressures and the British policies that led inexorably to self-government and to partition. This began, explicitly at least, with the Montagu declaration in 1917. But the idea of gradually developing self-governing institutions seemed in many ways easier to implement in politics than administration. India was proceeding from an authoritarian to a popular government: the transfer of power was not only from British to Indians but also from administrators to politicians. And as Philip Woodruff, writing on the I.C.S., comments, ‘it is hard to serve where you have ruled’. On one level, the Service could be Indianized, and from the early 19205 Indianization proceeded apace. What was more complicated was the role the I.C.S. was expected to play in the changing constitutional and political circumstances from 1920 through to 1947—expected to play, that is, in addition to the sustained execution of the everyday functions of government.

Protestantism in the early Meiji era has long interested Western students as an aspect of the encounter between Japan and expanding European culture in the nineteenth century. Edward Warren Clark (1849–1907) and other American laymen, who went to Japan as teachers and not society missionaries, played a significant role in the process during the 1870s. Edward Warren Clark is known to Western scholars of the Meiji period for his contribution to the development of English-language education and as the author of books based upon his experiences in Japan. In his letters to William Elliot Griffis (1843–1928), Clark reveals opinions concerning Japan and Japanese acquaintances, and the hopes and tribulations of teaching Western studies. These are interesting in themselves as one American's views, and they also shed more valuable light upon Japanese attitudes toward the West between 1871 and 1875. In this study of cultural contact, particular attention will be paid to Clark's evangelistic work in Shizuoka and later in Tokyo, and the influence of his Christian ideas and misconceptions upon certain Japanese, especially Nakamura Masanao (Keiu, 1832–91).

Like most research on Japanese involvement in Korea in the latter years of the Meiji period, this article is deeply indebted to the pioneer work of Professor Hilary Conroy. I have also drawn heavily on the work of Eugene and Han-kyo Kim. However, a detailed study of the railways of Korea does not come within the framework of Professor Conroy's book, and there is little material on the subject available in English. In Japanese there is the official government history, the Chōsen Tetsudō Shi, but the purpose of this essay is to show the views of the business world on the subject, and so contemporary articles in the leading economic journals have constituted the most important source. A consideration of those articles which comment on the changing state of affairs will perhaps clarify the reasons underlying dōmestic pressure for Japanese involvement in the construction of Korean railways.

Bureaucratic capital—that is, capital accumulated through public office, or state revenue diverted by individual officials for capital investment— has had a long history in China since early Han times. This paper is concerned with the development of bureaucratic capital for ‘modern’ industry during the last forty years of the Ch'ing dynasty.

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.

At a very early stage in their respective careers, most of the major iron and steel plants of Europe and North America recognized the strategic importance of possessing colliery capacity in order to safeguard their requirements of coking-coal, a basic input to the blast furnace. In the Ruhr—where the tendency towards vertical integration probably reached its apotheosis—the Huttenzechen (tied mines), accounted for nearly twenty per cent of the total coal output at the turn of the century and no less than fifty per cent during the inter-war period. The precise legal standing of the integrated units naturally varied from country to country. In Britain and Germany, for example, the most favoured practice was for the iron and steel plant to establish outright ownership of the mines and to treat them merely as a department of the enterprise complex itself, whereas in the United States, the giant steel works such as Kaiser, Republic, and Bethlehem, preferred to create semi-autonomous subsidiary companies. In India, the two steel firms ofthe pre- Independence era, i.e. the Tata Iron and Steel Company (henceforth abbreviated to T.I.S.CO.) and the Indian Iron and Steel Company (I.I.S.CO.), inclined towards the former organizational model (with the single exception of T.I.S.CO.'s West Bokaro colliery which was purchased in 1947 and was wholly owned by the Company's shareholders).