Cambodian history begins in the delta of the Mékong. It naturally divides itself into five periods of unequal length and importance: (1) the Funan period, from early in the first century A.D. to near the middle of the sixth century; (2) the Chenla period, from then to 802; (3) the Kambuja or Angkor period, from 802 to 1432; (4) the independent Cambodia period, from 1432 to 1864; and (5) the French protectorate, covering the period since 1864.

The colonialism of Richelieu first brought the French to the Indo-Malayan peninsula in the seventeenth century. Ayuthia, which was then the capital of Siam, was the chief entrepôt of the area and as such naturally attracted the French. But their efforts to establish diplomatic and commercial relations were terminated abruptly by two revolutions half a world apart. In Siam the Revolution of 1688 placed an antiforeign king on the throne. In England the Revolution of 1688 established William of Orange, implacable enemy of Louis XIV, as king of England. The former event dislodged the French from the favorable position they had won in Siam. The latter was the signal for the outbreak of general war in Europe, which so engaged French attention that the venture in Siam was forgotten.

The political development of India during the first half of the twentieth century was conditioned by constitutional reforms introduced by the British rulers, and by a vigorous agitation for national freedom. A constitution is a normative description of existing or intended relationships of political power; under the circumstances prevailing in India at that time, such a description was bound to be challenged again and again by an agitation for the revision of the status quo. In this way a peculiar relationship developed between constitutional reform and agitational advance. The constitutional reforms were designed to fulfill agitational demands on the one hand and to forestall more extreme demands on the other. Therefore they conformed to agitational patterns. In a similar way, the agitation was conditioned by the particular circumstances created by each constitutional reform; the constitution of the national movement itself, i.e., of the Indian National Congress, had to be adapted to the new situation whenever constitutional reforms were at stake. Finally when independence was achieved, an Indian Constituent Assembly adopted a constitution which closely resembled the previous constitutional structure introduced by British Acts of Parliament.

Western economists who wish to study economic conditions in Communist China are plagued both by the quantity and the quality of economic statistics made available by the Chinese Communist authorities. Quantitatively, the meagerness of statistical data makes the task of serious research difficult. Qualitatively, most Western economists have little confidence in these statistics as reliable representations of the actual situations. This paper will examine the general reliability of the physical output data of industrial commodities published by the Chinese Communist authorities. Industrial output data have been selected for our purpose for two reasons. First, great emphasis has been given to industrial production in the economic plans. Second, the Chinese Communist authorities have released relatively abundant data concerning industrial production so that it is possible to conduct certain empirical tests, as will be seen later, to determine the general reliability of the output figures for certain commodities.

Rohilkhand, at the time of the Mutiny of 1857, was a division of the North-Western Provinces comprising the districts of Bijnor, Moradabad, Budaun, Bareilly, and Shahjahanpur. It was here and in neighboring Oudh that the uprising achieved its greatest intensity. Hitherto, it has been assumed that the proprietary mutations which occurred in Rohilkhand after its cession in 1801 by the Nawab of Oudh to the East India Company are highly significant as a cause of the uprising. G. J. Christian, the Secretary to the Sudder Board of Revenue of the North-Western Provinces, reported in 1854 that “in no other country in the world probably do landed tenures so certainly, constantly, and extensively change hands. These mutations are effecting a rapid and complete revolution in the position of the ancient proprietors of the soil.” William Edwards, the Collector of Budaun at the time of the Mutiny, wrote:

To the large number of these sales during the past twelve or fifteen years, and the operation of our revenue system, which has had the result of destroying the gentry of the country … I attribute solely the disorganization of this and the neighbouring districts in these provinces. By fraud or chicanery, a vast number of the estates of families of rank and influence have been alienated, either wholly or in part, and have been purchased by new men … without character or influence over their tenantry. … I am fully satisfied that the rural classes would never have joined in rebelling with die sepoys … had not these causes of discontent already existed.

Japanese poetry has for a long time been credited with truly miraculous powers of concision, suggestion, and philosophical insight by some of its Western admirers. Other Westerners, from Chamberlain and Aston on, have been less charmed, and have criticized the classical poetry of the Japanese court in particular, for excessive artificiality, and for a lack of breadth, grandeur, and sustained power.

The court poetry which was the supreme literary genre of the Heian and Kamakura periods is indeed restricted. In mode it is confined to lyricism; in form, to the 31-syllable tanka which becomes synonymous, in these periods, with waka, or Japanese poetry. Its vocabulary is circumscribed, generally limited to that employed in the KokinshŨ of 905, first of the twenty-one imperially sponsored anthologies of verse. There are some subsequent additions, primarily from the lexicon of the great early collection, the Man'yōshŨ (ca. 759), but the admissibility of such words was hotly contested.

It is an essential feature of merit bureaucracy that there must exist within the institutional framework of government some method of guaranteeing that fixed standards of recruitment, promotion, and discipline are applied without discrimination to all members, or potential members, of the public services. In the Federation of Malaya, as in most Commonwealth countries, institutional machinery intended to satisfy this requirement of merit bureaucracy takes the form of public service commissions. It is the purpose of this study to trace the development of these institutions in Malaya, to outline briefly the organization, composition, and procedures of the commissions, to point out social and political factors in Malaya which affect the application of the principles underlying the institutional machinery, and to comment on the future of the service commissions in the Federation.

This article examines the strategy of literary spatialization employed by colonial subjects to imaginatively engage with colonial civilizing projects. It analyzes twelve adventure stories written between the 1910s and 1920s by colonial Vietnamese reformed scholars, whose lives were impacted by the pan-Asian reform movements that swept Japan, China, and Vietnam between the 1860s and 1900s. They reflected their experiences with Enlightened civilization as they were pushing for vernacularization and modernization through translating the Chinese transculturation of Japanese texts into Latin-based quốc ngữ script while constructing a national literature. Adventure tales and travelogues were considered suitable for aspiring writers to translatively imitate Western literature as presented in Chinese translation of Japanese texts. The authors negotiated with the French version of Enlightened Civilization by employing two East Asian literary tropes: the dangerous but exciting Rivers-and-Lakes World, where the protagonist ventures to search for văn minh, and the peaceful and other-worldly Peach Blossom Spring utopia, where the true qualities of văn minh are realized. These stories reveal colonial subjects’ admiration for and anxiety regarding the French mission civilisatrice, and their literary efforts to imagine a Vietnamese văn minh that would both impress and surpass the original models.

Chin Yao-Chi (Ambrose Y. C. King) is internationally known for the knowledgeability and fluency with which he uses many of the perspectives of Western social science to discuss Chinese culture, modern Chinese history, and current developments on both sides of the Taiwan Strait. Born in 1935, growing up in Shanghai, he obtained a Ph.D. degree from the University of Pittsburgh and today is Professor of Sociology and Pro-Vice-Chancellor at The Chinese University of Hong Kong. His life, however, has also been rooted in Taiwan, where he lived for many years after the fall of the mainland, and where he obtained both his B.A. and M.A. degrees. Long before the promise of the Republic of China's development became obvious, at least as early as 1966, he recognized it, astutely introduced Western modernization theory to analyze it, understood that pursuing it required not iconoclasm but a process of critically and creatively building on the inherited culture, and widely influenced Taiwan intellectuals as they tried to make sense out of their complicated, often distressing situation (Chin 1979, 1987, 1991). The publication of eleven of his articles written during the last decade (a few originally in English) by Oxford University Press (Chin 1992) rightly indicates that his views about Chinese modernization should be weighed by all those around the world concerned with this issue, not just by small scholarly circles. Yet just how insightful are his views? To what extent are they shaped by premises that have commonly informed much modern Chinese thought, and that many Western scholars could not easily accept? To what extent has Professor Chin himself “self-consciously” (tzu-chueh) identified any such premises and pondered their viability?

In any highly industrialized country, especially one which relies mainly upon private enterprise for its economic development, the managerial system assumes a position of critical importance. It has been widely recognized in this connection that practices and policies developed by management are principal determinants of employer-employee relations and, in turn, affect significantly the outcome of many economic, social, and political problems that emerge in the process of industrialization. Close examination of management in varying cultural and national settings helps to understand the nature of conflicts existing in modern industrial societies and may furnish clues to their solution. A recent study comparing present-day business management in Western Europe and the United States represents a first step in this direction. This article deals with Japan—still another nation in which modern industrialization operates largely under a system of private enterprise the characteristics of which contrast sharply with America.

A Study of the Ch'ing legal system, the culmination of the experience of many dynasties, provides clues to the understanding of Chinese political behavior before extensive Western contact. For this period, the decisions of the Board of Punishments (hsing-fu) recorded in the collection of cases known as the Hsing-an hui-lan form an important body of law. Of these, the cases pertaining to the illegal punishment of prisoners by government officials are particularly interesting. An analysis of thirty of these cases suggests answers to the following questions: 1) Did the Board of Punishments have the attributes of an independent law court? 2) Was the law which the Board of Punishments applied internally consistent and capable of growth ? 3) Was protection from official brutality adequately guaranteed by law?

The Board of Punishments, one of the six ministries of the central government, was the formal organ most responsible for the administration of justice. In judicial matters, it served as a buffer between the provincial authorities on the one hand and the emperor on the other.

In a recent interview with Edgar Snow, Mao Tse-tung asserted that he did not remember having written “Dialectical Materialism,” and that if he had written it, he surely would have remembered it. There is both internal and external evidence to support Mao's assertion. If the article was published under his name without his approval, then those who undertook this venture may have had the support of Soviet authorities, perhaps even of Stalin himself. There is also the possibility that it was forged and published by intriguers within the CCP who disapproved of the united front policies which Mao had just elaborated in his “New Democracy.” By first weakening his position with a damning forgery, they might then have hoped to overthrow him with Moscow's tacit approval. The Russian returned student leaders, Wang Ming and Po Ku, might well have devised such a plot.