In 2010, La Galigo, a Bugis mythological epic describing the founding of the human world, was included in UNESCO's Memory of the World register. This accolade again brought La Galigo into the international spotlight, as had occurred when Robert Wilson's stage play I La Galigo, based on this epic, debuted in Singapore in 2004. Wilson's production received acclaim and critique, with reviews primarily focusing on his ability to achieve an authentic representation of Bugis identity and their past. These responses raise questions around the presupposition that there is an authentic Bugis identity and past that can be publicly recreated. This article analyses the concept of authenticity through reviews of Wilson's production and the work of key theorists to show that for many people, authenticity is achievable and of critical importance in underpinning any sense of a unified and singular ethnic identity, while for others, identity is always already a mix of different global influences and as such is either irrelevant, or liberated from a sense of a singular heritage.

this article analyses the socioeconomic relations of manila cigar-makers, who had strong bargaining power vis-à-vis management during the american colonial period. focusing on a structural economic depression which took place in the mid-1920s, the study considers the evolution of these workers' lives in terms of skills, autonomy, stratification and cohesiveness at their work sites.

As the title implies, this paper deals with two questions which I believe may be related to one another in significant ways. The first is the rise to power of Sūryavarman I (1002–49), to which the present study is principally devoted; and the second is the dynamics of state and political development in Angkorean Cambodia, which will be illuminated by the discussion of Sūryavarman.

The 2004 tsunami intensified fruitful scientific research into dating past tectonic events in Sumatra, though without comparable work on Java. Geology needs to be informed by careful historical research on documented events, but less such work has been done in Indonesia than in other tectonically endangered areas. This paper examines the historical evidence for two hitherto unknown tsunamis of the seventeenth century. In better-researched Sumatra, Dutch reports that a flood from the sea devastated Aceh in 1660 adds to what the geologists have discovered on the ground. By contrast geological research has barely begun on the south coast of Java. Javanese sources for events before 1800 need careful re-evaluation. The myths around Ratu Kidul, the ‘Queen of the South Seas’, together with more chronologically reliable dated babads, point to a major tsunami in 1618 on the coast south of Yogyakarta.

By considering the historical significance of a southern Thai policeman, Khun Phantharakratchadet (1898–2006), I aim to shift historical writing away from the court, the aristocracy and the capital even though the social setting is not merely ‘local’ or ‘peripheral’ but an amalgam of elements found throughout the country. I also want to give credit to local historians often dismissed for being parochial, untheoretical and disposed to myth-making, and to show how tantric practices (saiyasat), the arts of self-defence, policing, banditry and masculinity intersect in the career of this policeman, a native of the unique environment in the Songkhla lakes district.

One of the most prevalent and influential themes in the literature on European imperialism has been the dichotomy between conditions in an area threatened by European conquest prior to and following the imposition of colonial rule. Even writers who have disapproved of the extension of European control normally have had little favourable to say about indigenous rulers or the state of kingdoms about to be annexed. Historians have generally pictured the pre-colonial history of these areas as periods of decadence and corruption, of administrative breakdown and social chaos, and of economic stagnation and popular unrest. In contrast, most writers have viewed the early colonial era as a time of recovery and progress. In order to justify this view, they have attempted to show that the establishment of European rule brought peace and order, stable government, educational and legal reforms, public works projects and economic development. Most historians have implicitly assumed that the indigenous peoples accepted European overlords during the first decades after conquest because conditions were far better under alien rule than they had been under the traditional elites.

The Hmong are not passive actors who wait for help from development workers and other authorities. Instead, they actively engage themselves within a process of social negotiation between unequal socio-economic and political groups, a ‘dynamic knowledge system’. Three case studies from a Hmong Thantam community are used to better understand the process of social negotiation with multiple actors within complex power relations. More importantly, their dynamic local knowledge is used as a strategy to struggle against, and reconcile with, more powerful forces; the result of this process is the ‘complexity’ which happens as a response to power

It's possible to find knowledge from any place in the world when we humans learn from one another. Throughout the generations we Hmong have learned from many diverse sources. In order to fulfil our lives, we young Hmong still learn from the whole world. Laoyeng Saehang, A headman of Thantam village, Northern Thailand, 1998.

This article analyses the social implications of the recent mass conversions to Protestantism by one-third of the one million Hmong in Vietnam. The conversions have been condemned by the Vietnamese state, while being understood by international human rights activists as acts of conscience on the part of the Hmong converts. This article focuses on the internal debate and divisions surrounding conversion among the Hmong themselves. The converts believe that Protestantism is the only way to alter the ethnic group's marginal status in Vietnam while the unconverted Hmong see conversion as a betrayal of Hmong ethnicity. Such conflicting views have been causing deep fractures in Hmong society.

In Myanmar, the idea of ‘indigeneity’ has been mobilised in two radically different ways. Ethnonationalist groups such as the Chin National Front and the Karen National Union have utilised the concept to lobby for increased autonomy in international forums such as the United Nations, while the Burmese state has used the idea of indigeneity (or native-ness, typically translated as taingyinthar in Burmese) to exclude certain minorities — most prominently the Rohingya — by explicitly striking them from the official list of Myanmar's ‘national races’. To clarify how this definitional tension has developed, this article will situate the competing Burmese appeals to indigeneity within the history of international indigeneity politics, and compare the Burmese ‘Indigenous situation’ to other Asian countries that have addressed the question of who counts and does not count as Indigenous.

In his influential edited volume Slavery, bondage and dependency in Southeast Asia, Anthony Reid suggests that long-term slave-based systems of production were absent from agriculture in Southeast Asia, and had an ambiguous presence at best in other areas of economic activity. The argument he presents suggests that indigenous slavery in the region merged into a ‘kind of serfdom or household membership’, a situation that continued after the arrival of Europeans whose slave-holding practices were profoundly shaped by the local traditions they encountered: ‘slavery in the European colonies owed more to the Southeast Asian environment than to European legal ideas’. Reid's analysis is insightful and his conclusions persuasive. But he also notes a single exception to this general picture: ‘the Dutch perkenier system for producing nutmeg in Banda with hundreds of slave labourers on large estates’. The nutmeg estates of the Banda Islands, in eastern Indonesia, provide a rare unequivocal example of a slave mode of production in Southeast Asia, and its sole instance in an agricultural context. The islands have a similar status within established accounts of slavery in Asia more generally. While some degree of geographic and historical variation is usually acknowledged, European slavery practices in Asia are regarded as distinct from colonial slavery in the New World, where European systems were imported wholesale. Against this conclusion, the perkenier system in the Banda Islands has been described as a form of exploitation ‘unheard of in Asia’, one that represented a ‘Caribbean cuckoo in an Asian nest’. In other words, Dutch nutmeg cultivation in the Bandas constituted a New World style system of slavery operating in an Asian context.

The ideas of the ancient Khmers about the connection between kings and gods, as known from sources bearing on the Angkorian kingdom, have received considerable attention from modern scholars. As early as 1904, Aymonier in the third volume of his history described the cult of the Devarāja as “une sorte de déification aux divinités brahmaniques, des rois et même des personnages de distinction, hommes ou femmes, qui érigent des temples ou contribuent d'une façon quelconque à rehausser le culte de ces divinités.” The stele of Sdok Kak Thom, edited by E. F. Aymonier in 1901, by L. Finot in 1915, and again by G. Coedès and P. Dupont in 1946, is particularly important in yielding fragmentary information about the history of the devarāja cult, and the introduction to the last-named of these editions contains a discussion of the cult, which appears to link the person of a king to the god Siva, or some other. G. Coedès has discussed aspects of royal divinity in several places, his most general and best-known account of the subject, originally presented as “Cultes Personnels à l'Epoque du Bayon” appearing as the third chapter of Pour mieux comprendre Angkor. The scholarly literature describing the statuary and architecture of the Angkor monuments abounds in references to the apparent deification of kings and their relatives, as represented in statues and in titles attributed to them. J. Filliozat's notable study of the symbolism of the Bakheng may be mentioned as an example of the attention which has been devoted to Khmer architecture as a reflection of ideas associating a king with a god. Among other relevant discussions, J. Przyluski's views on the nature. of the Angkorian monuments and B. P. Groslier's analysis of the kings' religious functions in the light of their social, political and economic rôles may be mentioned here. The representation of kings as gods is a theme commonly recognized in Angkorian studies, and even in other periods of Khmer history. A comparatively recent article suggests the existence of the “god-king” in pre-Angkorian times.

Recent efforts have re-dated the Wat Bang Sanuk inscription to 1219, long before the Ram Khamhaeng inscription of 1292. Attempts to assess the implications force a re-thinking of Thai rebellion against Angkor by linking rebellion to religious thought, including especially the discovery and public show of relics of the Buddha.

The trend to portray Indonesian presidents as punakawan (clown servants) in wayang (shadow puppetry) was started under the former President Soeharto. Whereas Soeharto chose to be conveyed as Semar, a clown but also a former god, greater artistic freedom post-Soeharto led to a more farcical depiction of Habibie and Gus Dur as Semar's sons, Gareng and Bagong.

A pattern of trade completely new to the traditional structure of Southeast Asian trade emerged in the eastern extremity of Southeast Asia following the permanent settlement of the Spaniards at Manila in 1571. The new addition was based upon the Manila-Acapulco trade with its two supply lines originating from the ports of Fukien province in China, and the Coromandel and Malabari Coasts in India. Two hundred years later, this trade with Manila as the entrepot, had become a well-defined system, and very much a part of the traditional pattern of Southeast Asian trade. The mercantilist regulations obtaining in Manila, the seasonal rhythm of shipping movements, the goods carried along the routes and the dependent trades outside the Spanish systems had moulded the character of the Manila trade.

Using Chiang Saen in northern Thailand as a case study, this paper describes the practice of archaeology as conducted by the Thai Fine Arts Department. In particular, it examines how the Chiang Saen archaeological site has been treated under the rubric of “cultural resource management”.

We argue in this article that the social and economic conditions in the Angkorian society of the tenth century or earlier contributed to the decline in status of some middle-level officials, as is evident from the mid-eleventh century. Many Angkorian inscriptions written between the late ninth and late twelfth centuries record purchases and donations of lands acquired for religious foundations. The texts often contain details of transactions and disputes seeking to validate title to these holdings. The buyers include middle-ranking loñ and vāp, and increasingly, higher-ranking officials. An analysis of the roles and activities of the officials reveals something of their relative status and helps explain the disappearance of vāp from the inscriptions in the eleventh century, and the relegation of loñ to temple roles by the twelfth century. The transfer of communal lands and lands owned by these officials to elites is attributed to hierarchical restrictions on land purchases, a reduction in fiscal immunities, and the need for taxes to be paid to the centre with high-value goods in Angkor's moneyless economy.

This article provides a detailed account of the process of invention of a nationalist tradition for Brunei, the most tradition-conscious nation in Southeast Asia. It shows how Brunei's nationalist tradition emerged at the interface of colonial records, indigenous oral and written sources, ethnographic fieldwork, and anthropological theories. For this purpose the article traces the history of anthropological research in northern Borneo from its colonial beginnings to its postcolonial role in nation-building and shows how anthropology and anthropologists have — sometimes unknowingly, sometimes deliberately — played an active role in the shaping of Negara Brunei Darussalam.

Studies of early Southeast Asia focus largely on its ‘classical states’, when rulers and their entourages from Sukhothai and Ayutthaya (Thailand), Angkor (Cambodia), Bagan (Myanmar), Champa and Dai Viet (Vietnam) clashed, conquered, and intermarried one another over an approximately six-century-long quest for legitimacy and political control. Scholarship on Southeast Asia has long held that such transformations were largely a response to outside intervention and external events, or at least that these occurred in interaction with a broader world system in which Southeast Asians played key roles. As research gathered pace on the prehistory of the region over the past five decades or so, it has become increasingly clear that indigenous Southeast Asian cultures grew in sophistication and complexity over the Iron Age in particular. This has led archaeologists to propose much greater agency in regard to the selective adaptation of incoming Indic beliefs and practices than was previously assumed under early scholarship of the nineteenth and early to mid-twentieth century.

An important but little-studied act in the history of postwar Singapore was played out at the margins of the city. Here, the state was involved in a major campaign to socialise the ‘squatters’ of urban kampong into citizens of a high modernist state. The fire hazard in these settlements also contributed significantly to the process, as the residents were mobilised into fire-fighting squads and politicians acted on behalf of the victims of infernos by rehousing them in emergency public housing. This article proposes a new approach to postwar Singapore historiography at the interface between politics and social developments. It underlines the social agents, spatial dimension and historical continuity uncovered in the venture.

The Thammakai movement in Thailand has won increasing attention over the past decade for its popularity, for the devotion of its supporters and the size of their contributions, and for its links with influential individuals in the Thai government, army, and business communities. This suburban monastery's ability to draw a congregation of 50,000 participants each year for its most publicized annual religious observance is perhaps unprecedented in Thai ecclesiastical history. Thammakai leaders see themselves heading a key Buddhist reform movement to improve the lives of their followers, to strengthen the religion, and to bring prosperity to the nation. But Thammakai's detractors criticize the meditation method around which the movement has been built, deplore the movement's expenditure rates and fund-raising techniques, charge that it uses hypnotic mind-control methods over its followers, and criticize its increasingly acquisitive tendencies. Thai observers of all persuasions have noted Thammakai's skilful use of positive national and religious symbols in its public relations, its abilities in organizing students and young urban professionals to work for organizational goals, and its skill at staging visually and emotionally appealing public displays.