Nationalism in the Philippines is undergoing the fate of ideologies and ideas that have passed from the vocabulary of critical and original thinkers, into the language of popular discussion. As a concept and as a political force, therefore, nationalism is in the process of losing in precision what it is gaining in popular appeal. Its triumph in Filipino politics is pointedly shown by the diligence with which partisans of opposing political interests and orientations all claim to be the faithful and discerning interpreters of nationalism. Its triumph as an idea is similarly shown by the indiscriminate use of the term by social commentators who have no more than vague and hazy impressions of ideological distinctions.

Among the most obvious and durable monuments to the colonial age in Asia are the great engineering projects which have permanently transformed the physical and economic geography of the continent. Many of these have an interesting history of their own, both in the political and commercial history of the country building them and on the level of international politics. This is true not only for such successfully completed projects as the Suez Canal or the Trans-Siberian Railway, but also for great schemes which were never realized. In Southeast Asia the long-discussed Kra Canal is the most famous instance of the latter, but it is not unique. Throughout most of the second half of the Nineteenth Century the British Government and especially the British business community dallied with the idea of a rail link between the Bay of Bengal and the interior provinces of China. Those familiar with the building of the Burma Road will understand the enormous engineering problems involved in such a plan. But for most of the Nineteenth Century geographic knowledge of Southeast Asia was extremely vague and the lure of a several thousand mile shortcut to the perennially fascinating markets of China exerted a strong pull on the imagination of a commercial nation. Ultimately, international political complications and sound economic logic killed ven the idea of such a railway. But the light it throws on government — business relations within the British Empire and on imperial rivalries in Southeast Asia makes the story of the first Burma Road, the one that was never built, well worth the telling.

There was a stone fort at Malacca from 1512 to 1807. Only twice during the three centuries of its existence did this fort change hands, and it was taken by storm only once. Yet it was many times besieged, and nations which did not possess it regarded it with disfavour as a threat to the security of their communications and a hindrance, if not a barrier, to the freedom of their trade. In relation to the Malay Peninsula the fort at Malacca was of small account, for it was never used as a base for the furthering of territorial ambitions in the interior. Its importance lay rather in its. position on the flank of the main sea route between India and China. Beneath its guns fleets could be assembled and lie at anchor in security, and these fleets could be, and were, employed to attack the shipping of rival powers passing through Malacca Straits.

American entry into the ranks of colonial powers as an aftermath of the Spanish American War was sudden, unexpected, and, chronologically speaking, late in the game of colonial empire building. Prior to the last decade of the 19th century, United States had shown no lack of territorial acquisitiveness, but national expansion was exclusively in terms of organic growth of the whole nation. There was no interest in, nor attempts at building a “colonial empire” along conventional lines in which territories and their inhabitants were placed “permanently” under control but not under a shared set of political institutions. Up to 1898, all “civilized” inhabitants of new territories were immediately given the status of United States citizens with all rights and privileges thereof.

For this International Conference of South-East Asian Historians, it is my honour to contribute a paper on “Dr. Jose Rizal, Father of Filipino Nationalism,” for several reasons. First, Dr. Rizal himself was very much interested in the history of this part of the world. Second, this year 1961 has been proclaimed by the President of the Philippines as the Rizal Centenary Year, for our hero was born in 1861. Third, if Rizal were alive today, he would have been happy to receive an invitation to attend our Conference because our hero was the organizer of the International Association of Filipinists in Europe in 1889. Fourth, Dr. Rizal has been ranked by his biographers, both Filipinos and foreigners, as one of the great intellectual leaders of Asia, together with Mahatma Gandhi of India and Dr. Sun Yat-sen of China. Lastly, Dr. Rizal visited this city of Singapore no less than three times in the course of his many travels to foreign lands.

In a previous study published in 1934 I have given an account of the first Portuguese mission to Peking. Certain sources which were not available to me have since been examined, and consequently it has become possible to amplify my narrative and to revise some of my views tentatively given before.

The history of mankind is studded with narratives of human conflicts, inspired largely by man's desire of domination. Domination gave rise to resentment and agitation and finally gave way to freedom. Thus the struggle between man's desire to dominate and yet to be free determined the changing patterns of society and the course of human civilization. With the march of time and growth of experience the frontiers and concepts of loyalties widened and the tribal and clan conflicts developed into organised and highly mechanised national warfare. Consequently at the turn of this century most of the world lay humble at the feet of a few industrially and technologically advanced nations of the West. South East Asia belonged to the majority community of the humbled. Known as the “economic bulwark of western Imperialsm”, its economic wealth had, in fact, attracted over a period of centuries peoples of various cultures and races. The Europeans were only the last to come; before them had come the Indian, Chinese and Arab merchants. Of all these the Europeans were the most organised and persistent intruders. Their commercial rivalries through a process of political intrigues and military strifes inevitably led to the colonisation of South East Asia for several centuries. Except Thailand, all the nations of this region suffered a period of European domination; even Thailand's independence remained at its best precarious. Some remnants of this domination are still to be seen, for instance, in West Irian and Timor.

When the history of Chinese social institutions in Malaya comes to be written it will, I suspect, be especially difficult to construct a picture of the life associated with the domestic family and ties based upon common descent and marriage. The sources of material on these matters are likely to be very limited, at least in regard to the nineteenth century. Yet, as a social anthropologist I shall draw attention to a number of facts drawn from published material on nineteenth-century Singapore, hoping to show that there are some interesting problems in the analysis of the Chinese kinship institutions of the period and that, however hard it may be to come by the data, a worthwhile task awaits the historian with some sociological insight.

“[Your committee] are not aware that anything material has been omitted that could have conduced to the welfare of the Association, or the trade of India and China generally…They have not failed to maintain their communications with the different Presidencies in India and the Chambers of Commerce at Canton and Singapore.”

Our generation has witnessed in a relatively recent past the almost simultaneous emergence of national states in Southeast Asia. These great events have been preceded by a historical process having nationalism as its moving force. In other parts of the world nationalism has also been playing a more and more important role.

A glance at a bibliography of the history of the Vereenigde Oost Indische Campagnie is sufficient to give one an idea of the treasure house of source material that must be extant to have made possible studies of such wide and varied nature. Those who have even a nodding acquaintance with this material will confirm that even more is waiting to be explored. From a study of the use to which this material has been put in the writing of history and from my own personal experience in their use, I shall set down in the following pages some comments on the nature and characteristics of the Company's records. Though my examples will, in the main, be taken from the South Asian region, it is hoped that the general observations will be of wider application.

The role of Indian textiles in Southeast Asian trade in the seventeenth century was important in three ways. First, there was a great, almost unlimited, demand for these goods in all the Southeast Asian markets; second, they constituted the principal medium of exchange for the trade of Southeast Asia with the outside world; and third, they shaped the pattern of Inter-Asian trade of the European Companies, which laid the foundation of their wealth and commerce and later political power in the eighteenth century. The first two were important for Southeast Asian history only, but the last was of very great importance from the point of view of world history, not less important, in its far-reaching effects, than the voyages of discovery at the beginning of the modern period or the Industrial Revolution and the French Revolution in the eighteenth century. The poor Indian weavers shaped the course of world history by unconsciously laying the foundation of British and Dutch colonial empires.

The purpose of this essay is to suggest some major and pertinent questions regarding the nature, structure and problems of Southeast Asian history, rather than to provide ready-made answers to them. I am well aware that the very positing of such questions may appear premature in view of the youthfullness — not to say the woefully underdeveloped nature — of Southeast Asian historiography, particularly in the United States. Yet in a sense this innocence of youth may be an appropriate excuse for asking whither we are bound in our search; another, more pragmatic rationalization can be found in the undeniable fact that the teaching of ‘Southeast Asian history’, in which we are willy-nilly engaged, demands that such questions be asked, if not authoritatively answered.

Though the appellation “Châu-B'an” designates particularly the dynasty archives viewed or critized by emperors personnally with minium ink, the Châu-B'an of the Nguyên has traditionally included “T'âu-B'an” (report),: Tnu'o'ng-Du” (decree), “Chi'ên-Ch'i” (edict), as well as other documents connected with official matters.

Readers of this Journal will recall the provocative article in Vol. 2, No. 2 by John Smail entitled An Autonomous History of South-East Asia. This article has aroused considerable comment. It is all-the-more unfortunate then that it was marred by fifty or more misprints and omissions. With this issue of the Journal we have changed to a new type and printing machine, and we hope such errors as committed before will remain merely the follies of our youth. We attach a list of the more important of the misprints in Mr. Smail's article.