This article compares how elite music was classicised or canonised as part of the process of constructing national culture in India, Indonesia and Thailand. Issues examined include the role of the middle class; homogeneity and heterogeneity in national culture; the rise of mass education and innovative forms of musical transmission; the institutionalisation of music theory and music scholarship; dynamic influences from the West; and transformations in the roles of musician, patron and audience.

In 1961 I published in this Journal a paper on the Islamization of peninsular and insular Southeast Asia. It was a paper I had presented to the first meeting of the conference of historians of Southeast Asia organized in January of that year at the University of Malaya in Singapore by the then Raffles Professor of History, K.G. Tregonning. It was a paper often referred to in discussions concerning the coming of Islam to the Malay world, and attracted its share of approbation and criticism.

Various students of Southeast Asian agriculture have been at a loss to explain the peculiar distribution of glutinous rice as a staple crop throughout northern and northeastern Thailand, Laos, and neighbouring regions of Yunnan, Burma, Vietnam and Cambodia (see map).1 Moerman has observed that, “Although this crop … helps to define and isolate a continuous culture area of about 200,000 square miles, it is given scant and inaccurate mention in the literature on rice.”2 He goes on to suggest that certain “environmental factors” have probably played an important role in establishing glutinous rice in this area.3 This environmental explanation of origins is echoed with equally little elaboration by Watabe,4 but the latter denies that physical geography alone can account for the continuing preference for glutinous rice over modern non-glutinous varieties of comparable suitability. He contends that the persistent cultivation of glutinous rice, “is primarily due to an acquired preference of traditional use in the local diet.” Moerman5 and others have recognized the inadequacy of dietary preference as a sole explanation for persistence, but have so far refused to proceed beyond environmental speculations, even though they have provided a wealth of relevant ethnographic data.

Thai religion is changing. So is Thai society. To most scholars the connection is obvious: social and especially material changes drive religious ones. So a new middle class causes religious ferment while a crisis in legitimacy explains a militant Buddhist movement as well as the fervour for amulets and forest monks. Such explanations are typical in using extra-religious current events to explain religious change. We need not dispute their specific interpretations to make a larger historical point: today's religious changes are, if only in part, the unintended consequences of a century and a half of Sangha reform that has undermined the local Buddhism of the temple or wat. In effect centralizing reforms took the wat away from locals and, by driving folk practices out of the temple, fostered today's religious “free market”. This long-term institutional shift, changing the wat's place in Thai society, can be the context for understanding today's religious changes.

The understanding of Vietnamese society and social relations remains problematic. Even for recent times there is a dearth of research on basic facets of Vietnamese social structure. Scholars remain all too indebted to Hickey's study of Khanh Hau, which, dealing with a single and in some ways unique Southern village, can hardly be taken as representative given the wide regional and class differences characteristic of Vietnamese society. Moving backwards through time, the central elements of social relations become increasingly difficult to examine. The reasons lie both in an inevitable emphasis on what can loosely be called political history (e.g., the effects of French colonial rule, the resistance against that rule, the administrative problems faced by the early Nguyễn dynasty, or the recurring issue of war—and peace—with China) and the increasing narrowness of the documents available for study (i.e., the inevitability of reliance on official documents such as dynastic histories and legal codes).

Although Cold War propaganda is now the subject of close scholarly scrutiny, the main method by which it was communicated – language – has been overlooked. The Malayan Emergency illustrates how the British government grappled with the issue of political terminology within the broader context of anti-communist propaganda. This article will analyse the use of political language; the change from ‘bandit’ to ‘communist terrorist’; and the problems of delineating the Malayan from the international audience.

This article rebuts recent attempts to diminish Sir Gerald Templer's role in the Malayan Emergency. It contends that the revisionists overlook the decisive psychological impact of Templer's Malayan sojourn. Fundamentally, through very deliberate words and deeds, he gave both government and Malayans confidence that the communists could and would be beaten.

Using the chbap to analyze pre-cotonial Cambodian society is difficult because these gnomic, normative poems are only incidentally concerned with the ways in which that society was put together. Moreover, it is hard to determine how firmly they are anchored in the times when they were written: how useful is a seventeenth century chbap, after all, in helping us to understand eighteenth-century society? Another problem with using them is that they often provide an idealized picture, suggesting norms of behaviour rather than describing or analyzing the ways in which people behave. Because of this, the poems belong to more than one century at a time. Finally, like anything written down in a largely illiterate society, the chbap encapsulate and pass on the ideology of a minority élite. It can be argued that this ideology, in pre-colonial Cambodia at least, was rarely at odds with the ideology of the rural, illiterate poor; but this may be a circular argument, brought on by the widespread popularity, imposed by the elite over several centuries, of the chbap themselves.

The records of Singapore abound in population censuses which have been quoted by demographers, historians and other writers. These censuses can be broadly divided into those taken before 1871 and those conducted since that year. In the first period census counts were undertaken rather haphazardly, mainly by the police at fairly regular and short intervals, viz. annually from 1824 to 1830 and from 1832 to 1834, and then in 1836, 1840, 1849 and 1860. The original publications pertaining to these census counts are no longer available and the figures can only be obtained from secondary sources. In the second period proper and systematic censuses, as understood in the modern sense, were conducted by trained enumerators at regular but longer intervals and the results published in their original form are still available. The first census of this kind was held on 2 April 1871, and thereafter censuses were conducted every ten years up to 1931. Owing to the Second World War the 1941 census was postponed until 1947, followed by one held in 1957. By and large, it can be said that the census records gradually improved in comprehensiveness and accuracy.

Prostitution in Singapore was linked to economic factors in rural China and Japan. Congenital poverty, weak family economies, and rising economic expectations were all part of a set of prevailing conditions that created a vast source of supply of Chinese and Japanese women and young girls for international traffic. Life in both countries was exceptionally difficult in the second half of the nineteenth century. Although China had considerable wealth, most lived a hand to mouth existence in the over-populated rural areas. Poverty in the villages and outlying districts of southeastern China, where many agrarian families lived on the edge of starvation, not only drove women and girls out of the countryside into the ports but acted as a lever on parents already bowed under financial strain. Privation was a handicap which struck hardest at the daughters of peasants and rural labourers. Unable to feed the many mouths they were responsible for, and suffering from chronic economic insecurity, parents sold their daughters to would be benefactors, totally unaware of the future fate in store for so many of them who were taken to Singapore. Poverty and desperate hungry Chinese families were root causes of brothel prostitution in Singapore at the end of the nineteenth century.

While Southeast Asia revolves around its cities, scholarship spins off into disciplines that ignore this fact. In a region that has known cities for two millennia, where even remote peoples have shaped themselves to or against urban rule, research goes on as if the city were an alien entity, easily factored out and best forgotten. So village studies represent these city-centred nations, and few wonder if the entrepreneurs and middle class who now explain so much might themselves be explained as urban. Our disciplines divide so deeply that no one addresses how the city organizes society and shapes the region.

The paper begins by documenting the meanings the labels ‘Hinduism’ and ‘Taoism’ carry locally and highlights the complexities and ambiguities in discussions that invoke them. I then present data which demonstrate significant points of convergence between these two religious traditions, viewed as ‘ethnic religions’ and asserted to be ‘different’ in the Singaporean context. The turn to the organisational domain is instructive in revealing how ‘Hindu’ and ‘Taoist’ institutions have talked about their respective religions in the public sphere. This focus allows me to highlight overlaps in the two sets of discourses, to ask why these affinities should exist and to reflect on the sociological implications of such a phenomenon.

Cambodia is now in the midst of reconstruction after decades of organised violence and socio-cultural disruption. This paper explores how rural Cambodians are trying to recreate order in their local worlds and it questions what impact the recent deluge of consumer values, delivered through a post-socialist political filter, is having on these efforts.

For the greater part of the period from 1940 to 1945, French Indochina occupied a peculiar place in the Co-Prosperity Sphere of Great East Asia. Following the capitulation of France before the German army in June 1940, the northern part of Indochina became the first area in Southeast Asia to admit Japanese troops — at that stage, as an extension of the Japanese campaign in southern China. In July 1941 the Japanese advance into southern Indochina marked the first step towards a full-scale attack on European and American possessions in the whole region, which materialized in December 1941. But this military advance into Indochina, precisely because it took place before the general assault on Southeast Asia and the Pacific, had to be achieved by means of agreements and treaties with an established government. These were possible only because the French in Indochina decided to recognize the pro-German government at Vichy, so that the Japanese were able to apply diplomatic pressure both in France and at Hanoi. Once the agreements had been made, the Japanese saw no need to change the basis of their occupation of Indochina even after December 1941; they were by then preoccupied with establishing their presence in other areas. Consequently they continued to recognize the French administration in Indochina and to maintain diplomatic relations with it, so long as diplomatic pressure was sufficient to ensure that Japanese military needs were fully met.

This article begins by summarising the recent debate over the Community Forestry Bill in Thailand and traces the history of competition over public and communal land in that country. It is argued that community forestry that is truly beneficial for the locals must be based on an understanding of where common land is located within the multi-layered politics of power.

In 1925, Alexander Paterson, a Commissioner for Prisons in England and Wales, arrived in Rangoon to advise the local government on gaol conditions in Burma. This paper explores why the Burma prison administration invited Paterson, examines his findings and proposals – that included the suggestion that no convict should spend more than two years in gaol – and considers the fate of his recommendations. Paterson's visit and views are set in the social and political contexts of British rule in Burma at that time.

“The Portuguese, who, as a nation, have been long really exanimated and dead in this part of the world, although their ghost still appears at Macao, hold that place upon such terms as render it equally useles and disgraceful to them. It is now chiefly supported by the English, and on the present footing of things there the Chinese can starve both it, and those who support it, whenever they please. If the Portuguese made a difficulty of parting with it to us on fair terms, it might easily be taken from them by a small force from Madras, and the compensation and irregularity be settled afterwards”.

Bringing to light the first known Urdu primary source on Islam in colonial Burma, this essay examines the polemical encounter with Buddhism in the years surrounding the Third Anglo–Burmese War. Using the model of religious economy, the Urdu Sayr-e Barhma is contextualised amid the religious pluralisation and competition that accompanied colonisation as a multitude of religious ‘entrepreneurs’ and ‘firms’ rapidly entered the colony. Among them was the Indian Muslim author of Sayr-e Barhma, which provided a detailed account of the history, language and theology of Burman Buddhists and included an account of a public debate which, it claimed, culminated in the conversion of the Thathanabaing (Primate). Against the long-standing historiographical emphasis on the economic roots of anti-Indian sentiments in colonial Burma, this essay points to the religious dimensions of these enduring antagonisms.

A Preliminary Survey of the Causes, Characteristics and Consequences of the Resettlement of Rural Dwellers during the Emergency between 1948 and 1960.

This article draws upon recently-gathered anthropological and other data from Cambodia to explore how some Cambodians move beyond the constraints of social differentiation and order to access higher realms of meaning. This enables communion, security and liberation from social patterns of misrecognition. Gender is one of the primary principles of social differentiation and in recent years the relationship between gender, security and development has attracted the interest particularly of feminist scholars. Attention is often focused upon the misogynistic aspects of gender differentiation. Proponents of this kind of discourse tend not to concern themselves with how women and men may actually transcend rather than challenge gender order or with how they may commune with one another in ways that generate security. Focusing instead on the notions that are meaningful to the members of a given society may reveal some of the shortcomings of current security, development and feminist discourse. The material presented here is analysed by adapting some of the ideas that Roy Rappaport developed in his study of the ‘cognized models’ and liturgical rituals of the Maring of New Guinea. Rappaport's model helps to reveal how, by navigating multiple and overlapping levels of meaning, Cambodians may negotiate and even invert social order in ways that can be transformative, emancipatory and healing.