This article deals with Malay letters and documents from the archives of the Dutch East India Company (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie—VOC), dating to the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The collection of “golden” Malay letters, which belonged to the governor- general of the VOC in Java (1704–1709) Joan van Hoorn, made a long voyage on the ship Sandenburg from Batavia to Cape Town and Amsterdam in 1710. Its cultural and historical value was firstly estimated by the outstanding Russian scholar and antiquarian N. P. Likhachev, who purchased it for the Paleographical Museum in Petrograd (St. Petersburg) in 1910. The pages of the fifty-seven diplomatic letters cover one of the most controversial periods of VOC history on the Archipelago, 1683 to 1710, the establishment of its relationships with local nobility and states. The collection represents the original letters of the sultans of Palembang, Gowa, Buton, Bone, Tallo, Banten, and Cirebon, and of prominent historical figures of Malay states as well as the famous Indian merchant from Surat, Abdul Ghafur. They are written in Malay (in Arabic graphic: Jawi and Pegon), Arabic, Javanese (in two scripts: Pegon and Carakan), Dutch, Spanish, Persian, and Chinese. Their investigation will contribute to the academic scholarship on the famous records, reconstructing the history of the Dutch East India Company (VOC) on the Malay Archipelago, and on the peculiarities of Malay letter writing in different languages, scripts, and regions.

For those historians and anthropologists who study shamanism, Altai represents the ‘motherland’ of this institution. For their inspirations scholars who want to explore ‘classical’ cases of shamanism usually turn to this area, located in south-western Siberia, at the intersection of Russian, Mongolian and Chinese borders. At the same time, many of these scholars, who are concerned with a quest for ‘ideal’ and ‘traditionalist’ shamanism, ignore almost one-hundred years of contacts between native Altaians and the Russian Orthodox mission that considerably affected indigenous culture and ideology. For instance, some Russian anthropologists have stressed that despite Christian activities, natives still clung to their traditional beliefs at the turn of the twentieth century. N.A. Alekseev emphasised the superficial character of native Christianization and stressed the persistence of indigenous religion. In his recent work, Potapov, another prominent Altaian scholar, similarly concluded:

When Adriaen van der Donck wrote A Description of the New Netherlands in 1655, he rightly pointed to Henry Hudson's 1609 voyage and discovery as the foundation of Dutch claims to the North American territory. Presumably arguing on the basis of the right of first discovery, he proposed that local Indian lore supported the fact that the Dutch-employed Englishman had been the first to discover and explore the Hudson River. As a settler in New Netherland, Van der Donck had often heard the native inhabitants claim that before Hudson came they had never seen such a thing as a European ship.

On December 23, 1965, the president of newly-independent Zambia, Kenneth Kaunda, wrote a letter to the prime minister of Portugal, António de Oliveira Salazar. Kaunda—an outspoken opponent of continued Portuguese rule over the African colonies of Mozambique, Angola, and Guinea—found himself in the awkward position of asking for Salazar's help. Zambia needed Portuguese support, Kaunda wrote, in “confronting the present difficulties provoked by the retaliations of Rhodesia owing to the punitive economic measures of England”

This paper examines Dutch colonial discourse as it was developing at the beginning of the twentieth century. I argue that colonial circumstances were changing at the beginning of the twentieth century in many aspects - economic, political, social - and that these changes required new policy and administrative responses. I take as examples of these changing colonial conditions and responses, two episodes in the history of ‘the late colonial state’, which I argue are both representative of and formative in shaping, colonial policy in the last decades of Dutch colonial rule in Indonesia.

This study first considers how master secretaries of the Ottoman Imperial Council went beyond their field of scribal business and began to have a share in carrying out the empire's foreign policy by putting it into words. Next, it deals with the specific genre of documents that took shape step by step as one chancery office worked up an incoming writ and forwarded it to another bureau. It thereby shows how we can indeed unearth new knowledge on political history by looking into these outputs of the chancery's practice of writing and keeping financial transactions between dignitaries, superintendents, petitioners, and departments. The study then tackles in what ways one can link these trends to the early modern growth of the chancery and the branching out in government, and how the state's lordship rights and making, as well as keeping, logs were understood in those times. A document belonging to the handled genre is reproduced, transcribed, and translated at the end.

Johannes Hoornbeeck (1617–1666) was a Dutch Protestant theologian, generally regarded as a member of the so-called Further Reformation in the Netherlands. He wrote a number of theological works in Latin and in Dutch. Most of his works have a polemical character, defending his orthodox protestant stance against a variety of heretical views. In De conversione Indorum et gentilium, based on disputations with students and published posthumously, he enters into a discussion with the ‘heathens’. To this end he carefully combines biblical and classical scholarship and also reflects on the latest ethnographical information collected by both Protestant and Catholic travellers and missionaries. The book is characterised by great erudition and by an openness for other people’s opinions that necessitates the constant appraisal of one’s own point of view. We argue that such an open engagement with heretical views ultimately carries the danger of a sceptical view of one’s own religion.

This article places missionary education squarely at the centre of any consideration of European expansion in the modern era. It focuses more specifically on the place of local teachers in Bolivia and their relationship with one evangelical Protestant mission, the Bolivian Indian Mission, which originated in New Zealand in the early 1900s. It takes a non-metropole and a “multi-sited” approach to missions and education. It argues that what we know about Bolivian teachers was mediated through the missionary voice and that these teachers negotiated their lives within a particular missionary space, in which there operated a number of intersecting influences from other sites within the wider imperial or Western network. It aims to both reclaim the identities of Bolivian teachers (focusing on teachers’ identity and function) and to reflect critically on intrinsic methodological and conceptual issues (emphasizing the nature of sources, missionary discourse, the resulting status of Bolivian teachers, and Bolivian agency).

One of the classical accounts on the coming and first establishment of Islam in Indonesia runs as follows: Already a long time before the birth of Islam a mighty stream of colonisation started from Hindustan towards Java and surrounding islands. This stream definitely dominated the culture of this area and its influence is felt until today. After part of the Hindus had accepted Islam, these Indian Muslims were active in the trade with the archipelago and part of them also settled in this area. These traders and emigrants brought Islam into the Indian Archipelago. It is true, that already before this period some other Muslim nations sought articles of trade from the East-Indies and even established small settlements there: surely there resulted no permanent religious influence from these settlements. Islam, such as received by the Indonesians, therefore already experienced a process of adaptation towards the world of Hinduism. This made it easier for this new religion to accommodate itself once again to a degenerated Hinduism. Islam in the East-Indies unmistakably shows the signs of this Indian origin.

Missions were not simply sites of modernity, they were also the source of key data for the modernist theories of human progress. The idea that so called “primitive peoples” provided a window to the origins of human institutions seemed axiomatic to nineteenth-century theorists of human society who sought evidence for these ideas from settlers, administrators and particularly missionaries. The 1870s and 1880s were the high point of missionary engagement with study-bound anthropologists, as questionnaires and letters were sent from the centres to the edges of empires. Missionary responses, augmented with settler and explorer observations, became the footnotes in early anthropological texts on “primitive” societies. These analyses were then mined for the foundation texts of the other social sciences in the late nineteenth century. Along with many other scholars, Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels read the anthropology of the period and slotted the findings into their analyses of human society.

In his article “Research on the 17th century Mission in China and the Chinese Reaction”, Prof. Eric Zürcher referred to Chinese documents owned by the Sinological Institute of Leiden University, including “some very interesting texts that show us “late Ming Christianity in action”, such as devotional texts, stories about miraculous happenings”; (p. 113 b). One of these was the Lixiu yijian, A Mirror to Encourage (self-)Improvement. In this paper, I intend to analyse this document in order to show the interaction between mission Catholicism and Chinese popular religion, to demonstrate one facet of the meeting of East and West.

Historians have often viewed the history of the German empire with Berlin firmly in the centre of the lens, thus privileging the nation-state to the neglect of both the local and the transnational. Zooming out to include transnational processes such as migration and to globalise German history enables us to complicate the dominant narratives of the German nation-state. The movements of Germans overseas—whether as migrants, missionaries, or merchants—helped to forge a global presence for the German empire, but also entailed complex negotiations both among Germans and between Germans and their various “others,” thus revealing the ways in which German nationalist and colonial discourses and practices adapted to local conditions. While the German empire sought to establish itself as a colonial power abroad only in the late nineteenth century, Prussia-Germany was already a colonial power at home, in its eastern provinces. Zooming back in from the global to the local, and refocusing from Berlin to the borderlands, further complicates our understandings of the German empire, by revealing the ways in which local conditions in the eastern borderlands, themselves influenced by transnational phenomena such as international migration, informed the development of German nationalism there. Most notably, the demographics of the Prussian eastern provinces—and the movements of Jews, Germans, Poles, and Ruthenians/Ukrainians in and out of the region—required German nationalists to integrate greater flexibility into their discourse.

In the historical context of colonial Indonesia, Coolie as a way of designating labour has been associated primarily with indentured, migrant, plantation workers in the so-called Outer Islands, principally Sumatra, where coolies from Java and southern China were the mainstay of the workforce on the island's tobacco, rubber and palm oil ‘estates’ from the 1880s through to the end of the colonial era more than half a century later.

The concepts of war and peace are not as simple as they appear at first glance. Closer scrutiny reveals that reality cannot be reduced to the simple dichotomy expressed by this pair of words. There have after all been wars which were never declared and periods of peace which did not follow peace treaties. Yet this made them no less real. Moreover some acts of war were described euphemistically as ‘punitive expeditions’, ‘punishment raids’, or ‘police operations’ while others were described pejoratively as ‘terrorism’, ‘banditry’, and ‘piracy’. There have been wars which officially lasted seven, nine, thirty, eighty andeven onehundred years although theactual fighting took place within a much shorter period. Conversely there have also been eras of peace which were in fact no more than a truce extending over a number of years. In fact the concepts are so elastic that not only in George Orwell's frightening Newspeak but also in ordinary English one can say that “Waris Peace” if only one adds two adjectives: cold waris armed peace.