This study of Timor and the surrounding islands between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries provides evidence that, after the demise of the Portuguese Estado da India, an ‘informal’ or ‘shadow’ empire persisted but in uniquely localised ways. It describes the emergence of the ‘black Portuguese’ community known in Timor and the Solor archipelago as the Topasses. Their singular identity was based on the melding of indigenous and Portuguese blood and cultural forms. Their ability to access the sources of spiritual authority in both the Catholic and the Timorese domains assured their survival and that of the Portuguese in Timor until well into the twentieth century.

The exploration of differing historical interpretations has become an area of growing interest to anthropologists and historians alike, who have come to recognize that diverse interpretations of the same events can create as powerful a force for future actions as the events themselves. Following this approach, history becomes not so much a narrative progression of events, as shifts in meaning structures over time. The impact of such a perspective on scholars of Southeast Asian societies has led to both an increasingly critical use of colonial sources as well as to renewed interest in native or indigenous documents. We have also come to expect major divisions not only between colonialist and indigenous views, but among indigenous views themselves. This is particularly true in societies divided by class and ethnicity such as Malaysia where competing political and cultural interests can be expected to produce markedly different versions of past events. Similarly, we can predict that ongoing shifts in political and cultural relations will create continued transformations in interpretations over time.

While the organization of the Philippine sugar industry evolved to promote and balance the short-term interests of planters, millers and traders, it now undermines the industry and threatens the economic fortunes of those who depend upon it. By perpetuating inefficiency and fostering a frenzy of trading that affords inordinate profits for the least productive sector, this structure has become the major obstacle to restoring the Philippines to its former status as one of the world's most efficient and technologically advanced producers of cane sugar. As efficiency falls further behind that of other sugar producing countries, and as industrial consumers become more disgruntled with paying high prices for sugar, the nation risks the collapse of an industry that has already proven vulnerable to intermittent crises. The last time a crisis occurred — in the mid-1980s — planters faced foreclosure, mills stood idle, and workers and their families suffered malnutrition and dislocation, leading commentators to refer to Negros, the nation's premier sugar-growing island, as “Asia's Ethiopia” and a “social volcano”. While conditions have improved since the EDSA Revolution, the structure that has emerged does little to encourage productivity, efficiency and fairness. Since the industry continues to employ 500,000 workers, with as many as three million dependents, a collapse would lead to mass displacement, hunger, and political upheaval.

This paper will outline the history of the Philippine sugar industry, examine its current structure, and describe the political and economic forces that sustain it. My first contention is that the institutional organization, rather than government policy, cultural attitudes, or neo-colonial dependency, is fundamentally responsible for the poor performance of the industry in recent decades and, unless major changes are forthcoming, will be mainly responsible for its ultimate demise.

The rise and fall of Pertamina is a remarkable event in the recent economic history of Indonesia which has had wide-ranging economic and political ramifications. Formed in 1968, the state enterprise grew rapidly into one of the most important companies in Asia and Indonesia's most vigorous business organization. By 1974, this burgeoning oil conglomerate led by a dynamic President Director, Dr Ibnu Sutowo, known for his “can-do” philosophy and record of delivering the goods, had expanded its activities to a wide range of diverse business ventures both within and outside of Indonesia. But in late 1974, just as it seemed that the oil boom would surely strengthen Pertamina's already-dominant role in political and economic life in Indonesia, severe financial difficulties overtook the enterprise. In March 1975 the Indonesian Government was forced to step in to shore up Pertamina, and the subsequent investigations which continued on into 1976 revealed a series of remarkable business miscalculations which had led the company to accumulate debts officially put at over US$10 billion, much of it in foreign currency. Corruption in Indonesia has attracted much attention in recent years, so it is perhaps not surprising that it is this side of the remarkable Pertamina affair — and especially the role of Dr Ibnu Sutowo — that has received most comment. But the controversy surrounding the rise and fall of Ibnu Sutowo should not be allowed to obscure other significant issues. There are numerous semi-independent “states within a state” in Indonesia, and the role of particular individuals (whether honest or corrupt) within them should be kept in perspective. After discussing the background to the Pertamina crisis below, several issues will be taken up. It will be argued that while the economic consequences are bound to be farreaching, their impact on the economy should not be exaggerated. It will also be suggested that it is conflict between the need for autonomy and the desirability of public accountability which is at the heart of the debates about Pertamina's role, that many other official institutions (especially state enterprises) are faced with a similar conflict, and that we must look to the long-term development of institutional checks and balances to permanently improve the situation.

This article documents the shifting identity over time of a single Malaysian ethnic minority, the Portuguese Eurasian community of Malacca. Through a close examination of three pivotal historical moments (1952, 1969, and 1995), it shows how cultural phenomena (in this case, music and dance) play key roles in the projection of new public images.

There is perhaps no more startling example in the history of the British Empire of a casual, almost imperceptible shift of attitude in the Colonial Office having such dramatic repercussions as in Malaya in 1874. Authorised to “enquire and report” into conditions in the western Malay states, the new Governor, Sir Andrew Clarke, found himself carried away by forces on the spot, which had been building up for twenty years while the British government maintained a strict policy of non-involvement. Within weeks of arriving in Malaya, Clarke made agreements with three Malay rulers for British Residents to be attached to their states, and laid the foundations for the relentless spread of British protection over the whole peninsula. These repercussions mystified Colonial Office officials at the time and left future generations of historians to unravel the mystery of what had happened and why.

When the French assumed effective political control of Vietnam in the late nineteenth century they were confronted with the dual problem of raising revenues and securing administrative control of the countryside. In seeking a solution they were forced to consider Vietnamese land tenures and the distribution of agricultural output prevailing at that time. Their early moves reflected a sharp bias in favour of French law and almost total ignorance of the wide divergence between their system of property and taxation and Vietnamese custom and procedure. On a broad scale what was involved was an attempt to reinterpret indigenous practices to achieve compatibility with the French conception of private and public property categories and the legitimate rights and claims inherent in each. Le Code Annamite was translated by P.L.F. Philastre and gradually Vietnamese property laws were drawn towards conformity with French practices.

The seventeenth- and eighteenth-century Nguyen kingdom was known as Dang Trong to Vietnamese, and Cochinchina by the Westerners. In just 200 years it won control over three-fifths of the territory in modern Vietnam. The experiences of this expanding southern frontier area seem to suggest an image of Vietnam that is very different from the north, opening a door to an alternative world in which diversity was tolerated, and indeed exploited, for Vietnam's own development.

This article explores the social and moral implications of Duterte's war on drugs in a poor, urban neighbourhood in Manila, the Philippines. Drawing on long-term ethnographic fieldwork, surveys, and human rights interventions, the article sheds light on policing practices, social relations, and moral discourses by examining central perspectives of the state police implementing the drug war, of local policing actors engaging with informal policing structures, and of residents dealing with everyday insecurities. It argues that the drug war has produced a climate of ambiguous fear on the ground, which has reconfigured and destabilised social relations between residents and the state as well as among residents. Furthermore, this has led to a number of subordinate moral discourses — centred on social justice, family, and religion — with divergent perceptions on the drug war and the extent to which violence is deemed legitimate.

The narrative of the origins of the Lao people in contemporary Lao-language history books and textbooks is divided among divergent interpretations. The most popular reading is the ‘Ai-Lao’ version, an implicit response to Thai nationalist historiography. Marxist-Leninist-orientated historiography, by contrast, resembles the Vietnamese Communist narrative. As far as likely future trends are concerned, a journey back to the ‘roots’ seems ultimately to reveal the biography of a pre-modern spatial identity.

This article presents the hard work, and eventual failure, of the elder branch of the main lineage within a village of steel producers to reaffirm local identity through the recreation of a common ritual space dedicated to the spirit of the village's founder, original artisan, and their ancestor. It presents this process as a struggle over the meanings and representations of community and space in a time of rapid social and economic transformation. The ultimate failure of this struggle, which only becomes evident after 15 years, has affirmed something else: the spaces of practice associated with the village's public administration and family-based commercial interests.

The Oecusse-Ambeno enclave of Timor has persisted as a geographically distinct zone under Portuguese governance for over three centuries, enduring repeated efforts to undo its enclave status. This article analyses the confluence of economic, religious, and political elements that brought and kept Oecusse within Portuguese rule on Timor. Strong local authorities controlled trade linkages, maintained political and military ties with colonial rule, and wove Catholicism into existing customary practices and hierarchies, forging a strong regional identity that fostered sustained alliance with the Portuguese. Finally, the article discusses the impacts of Oecusse's enclave status over the past century.

Insignificant as it may seem, not only to the layman but also to professional scholars dealing with Southeast Asian affairs such as political scientists, economists, sociologists, and even historians, the Metal Age of Southeast Asia clearly is a force to reckon with, in the sense that it now seems to occupy everyone's mind in the various countries of the region just as much as contemporary issues do. The Metal Age, in other words, is linked with the present in Southeast Asia as nowhere else in the world, and has become a “contemporary issue” too.

The Dutch East India Company (VOC) secured in March 1602, by charter from the States General of the Netherlands, a monopoly of eastern trade. Throughout its history of two centuries, it sought zealously to maintain and safeguard this monopoly against all interlopers and against any attempts at private trade by its own officers. With its establishment and expansion in the east the Company extended this concept of monopoly to embrace as much of Asian trade as it could master. It developed early the policy of acquiring a monopoly of certain key commodities of Asian trade by controlling the areas of production and hence the supply. It soon went further and declared a total monopoly of the entire seaborne trade of specific trading areas by virtue of conquest, enforced contracts and naval domination. Thus the close monopoly of the Europe/Asia trade and of large areas of their inter-Asian trade constituted a commercial system to which the Company's Directors and its officers in Asia became closely attached and it formed a major plank in its commercial policy in the two centuries of its existence. Through this period, its energies and exertions were largely directed to the acquisition and maintenance of this many-sided monopoly system. Monopolistic policies and practices in trading dominated the thinking and activities of the Company at all levels of operation. The VOC was held as the archetype of such a trading body.

This article examines one case of the ceremonial preservation of a Buddhist monk's body in rural Cambodia. While consistent with Buddhist relic veneration traditions and regional death ritual patterns, the case shows local actors and conditions influencing practice. The study discusses whether there is a recent efflorescence of such practices in Cambodia and whether the ‘post-socialist’ moment has tended to foster their revival.

When the Burmese military junta implemented a repressive economy that nationalised trade and industry during the socialist period (1962–88), a black market economy sprang up and predominated. Despite regime change in 1988 and the subsequent adoption of a market-oriented economy, the underground trade has nevertheless continued and thrived. The Yunnanese Chinese merchants of Burma have played a significant role in the contraband economy over the span of regimes. Based on a non-state-centred perspective, this paper aims to look into the everyday politics of the underground trade conducted by the Yunnanese Chinese moving between Burma, Thailand and Yunnan and analyses the country's politico-economic landscape since 1962.

The Shan State Army-South (SSA-S) is today one of Burma's largest remaining ethnic opposition armies. This paper investigates ethnic politics of the SSA-S and their strategic use of media. It argues that Shan insurgency today has moved into a new phase characterised by its intense involvement with mass media. The paper examines, on the production side, the Shan insurgency's media products and its networking with the Thai press. On the reception side, it explores how the images of ethnic insurgency are consumed by Shan audiences living in exile, analysing how long-distance Shan nationalism is generated through the spectatorship of these ‘militarised’ images.

This paper is an attempt to analyze briefly the origin and growth of the Darul Islam movement with emphasis on the life of the leader of the rebellion, his ideology for establishing an Islamic theocratic state and a discussion on some of the problems he encountered in his effort to achieve his objective.

Sukarmadji Maridjan Kartosuwiryo: A Brief Biography

Sukarmadji Maridjan Kartosuwiryo was born in the small town of Cepu in North Central Java on the day of Selasa Kliwon (Tuesday Kliwon), 7 February 1905.

Ironically, the focus which Schrieke and Van Leur first brought to bear on socioeconomic changes in the Archipelago inspired scholars after them, Benda, Wertheim and Meilink-Roelofsz, among others, to plead for more dynamic structural changes than the pioneers of “Southeast Asia-centric historiography” presumed fit. The more cautious approach of Schrieke and Van Leur would appear to arise from their anxiety to establish cultural continuity as a viable basis for the study of socio-economic change. Since then change has come to be understood, particularly with reference to the maritime societies of Southeast Asia, as an indispensable element which guaranteed continuity within the basic traditions of the regions.

This paper attempts to survey the development of a Malaysian Sino-Malay spirit cult, known as Nadugong in Chinese, or Datuk Keramat in Malay. The development of this cult shows that Malaysian Chinese are increasingly aware of their ethnic identity vis-à-vis the Malay identity, whereby local-born Chinese seek to adapt themselves to the patterns of multi-ethnic cultures while at the same time trying very hard to maintain their ethnic boundaries through the organization of their own socio-cultural institutions.

The outcome of this adaptive response may be seen in what is known as localization — a multilateral acculturative rather than a unilateral assimilative process. This process renders the existing syncretized elements more complex and has served as an internal defence-mechanism against, rather than as an unconditional submission to, the on-going proselytizing ideologies of “Malay nationalism” and “Malay national-culturism” based on the parameters of Malay culture, Malay language, Islam, and Malay esthetic values.