A Complex stratified polity such as that of India, containing a variety of political cultures and a great diversity of political structure, inevitably produces a multitude of styles of political behaviour. Such styles may be the product of different political cultures and processes of recruitment and training, and they interact with each other in significant ways. In particular, the new integrated political system encourages what I call the ‘percolation of style’ from one stratum of the system to another. The percolating process flows in two-ways—from the national arena to the local, and vice versa—and the process itself affects the nature of political styles. A style which was appropriate and effective in one arena will need adaptation if it is to meet the distinctive challenges of a different stratum in the political system. Percolation thus involves modification of style, and the whole process may be viewed as the gradual development of new styles responsive to the demands of new situations. Inevitably this leads to multitudinous tensions, destructive or creative, but the process is thus an integral part of political change and an understanding of stylistic percolation is an important key to the understanding of the nature and direction of political development.

This article expresses some dissatisfaction with the state of interpretation of economic and social trends in Japan during the Tokugawa period from 1603 to 1867. At one time there was a universal view that the Tokugawa economy was stagnant and characterized by extreme oppression of the peasantry. This view has been demolished by the writings of, for example, T. C. Smith, E. S. Crawcour, S. Hanley, Kozo Yamamura and C. D. Sheldon. Yet, it is argued here, much confusion remains after a close examination of these and other works. Crawcour and Yamamura have shown that the financial crisis at the end of the period is closely associated with a sharp deceleration of the spread of commercial transactions, but it is at least arguable that the picture of ‘a happy and prosperous peasantry’ (which is, apparently, derived from T. C. Smith's description of a dynamic, expanding economy in the eighteenth century, with steady growth in agricultural productivity and increased urbanization) has been overdrawn.

While the developments leading up to the signature of the Soviet—Japanese Neutrality Pact in April 1941 have received considerable attention from scholars, the antecedents of this pact, the discussions between Japan and Soviet Russia over non-aggression or neutrality agreements from the mid-1920s onwards, are less widely known. The most significant of the earlier initiatives came in December 1931, when Soviet Foreign Commissar, Maxim Litvinov, proposed a pact of non-aggression to the Japanese Foreign Minister designate, Yoshizawa Kenkichi. Subsequently, at the International Military Tribunal for the Far East, a Soviet legal expert was to argue that the Japanese refusal to accept this proposal was proof of their aggressive plans for war on the Soviet Union.

When Le Myre de Vilers arrived in Saigon in mid-1879 as the first civilian to be appointed governor of Cochinchina after nearly two decades of rule by admirals, he carried a letter of instructions in which the Minister of the Navy and Colonies, Admiral Jaureguiberry, outlined his mission: to endow the colony with the institutions of a civilian government and administration.In his instructions, Jaureguiberry noted the desirability of giving the Vietnamese a role in running the affairs of Cochinchina.

To an Englishman of my generation, whose schooling took place during the 1920–30s, the practice of comparing Japan with Britain has long been a commonplace. School geography lessons on Japan invariably began with a reference to the temperate offshore island kingdom of eastern Asia as the ‘Britain of the East’, and this theme was often elaborated to include the characterization of Osaka and Kobe respectively as the Manchester and Liverpool of Japan. But following the Japanese invasion of Manchuria in 1931 the climate of opinion began to change, and so did the analogy. In 1936, Freda Utley, in a book which attracted widespread interest, observed:

Although the real Japan comes a little closer to being the Prussia of Asia than the Britain of Asia, it is fundamentally unlike all these romantic pictures, and in so far as it resembles another country, that country is Russia under the tyranny of the Tsars.

With the climax of imperialism in China at the end of the nineteenth century, Chinese nationalism in its modern form grew rapidly and became ever more assertive. As the imperialists concentrated on economic gains, the frustrated nationalists gave increasing attention to economic defences. The prime target of the imperialists was the control of mining and railway construction in different areas; so ‘to resist the imperialists’ became the catchword of the day, and the movement for recovering mining and railway construction rights highlighted the development of Chinese economic nationalism. While revolutionaries and the fugitive reformers abroad worked out their political programmes for the salvation of China, the conservative Manchu government and scholar-gentry tried to resist imperialism by promoting economic nationalism. To recover the mining and railway rights, to find the alternative capital for economic modernization and to play one power against another, became the strategic aims of economic nationalism.

Until the evolution of paper, which is dated traditionally in A.D. 105, the majority of Chinese documents were probably written on boards or narrow strips of wood or bamboo; the use of silk was reserved for the preparation of de luxe copies of certain works, either for sacred or for profane purposes. However, it was only quite recently that actual examples of wooden documents from China were first brought to the attention of the scholastic world, as a result of two series of expedit ions to central Asia and northwestern China. First, Sir Aurel Stein's expeditions, at the be ginning of the century, brought back fragments of inscribed wood from the sites of Tun-huang; thi s was subsequently examined and the results published, by Chinese scholars such as Wang Kuo-wei, an European scholars such as Chavannes and Maspero. Secondly, the expeditions led by Sven Hedin s ome thirty years later found similar material in larger quantities, from the more easterly sites of Chü-yen (Edsen-gol). These texts were published by a number of scholars, beginning with L ao Kan,who was working in China in the extremely difficult conditions of the 1940s.1940s.Shortly afterwards, Japanese scholars were able to turn their attention to this material whose content, l ike thatof the strips from Tun-huang, was almost exclusively concerned with the civil and militar y administration of Han imperial officials, between about 100 B.C.and A.D. 100. In the early 1960 s Professor Mori Shikazo led a series of seminar meetings to study the material from Chii-yen, wh ich the present writer was fortunate and privileged to attend. The results of such meetings were published atthe time in a number of Japanese periodicals, and constituted a valuable contribution to the studyof the wooden material from China known to exist at that time.

The Purpose of this essay is to portray the missionary activity which the Japan Congregational Church (Nihon Kumiai Kirisuto Kyōkai) undertook in Korea between the years 1911 and 1921, and the various criticisms raised against it from both inside and outside the Church (owing to limited space we shall treat only the period up to the 1st March Movement).In doing so we shall try to illustrate at least partially the general views which Japanese Protestants held about Korea at the time.

The subject of this paper is the fate of progressive taxation in South Asia. This is a subject about which Kingsley Martin himself would have had mixed feelings. On the one hand, he strongly advocated a redistributive fiscal strategy. On the other hand, he was never at all comfortable examining the kind of economic analysis with which it is usually justified. Somewhat unfairly, he distrusted all orthodox economists on moral grounds (Martin, 1966: 34). Moreover, his prolonged encounter with the unorthodox economics of Maynard Keynes was equally unsatisfactory as an educational experience. Lord Boothby summed up Martin's efforts to learn the technicalities of economics from Keynes as follows: ‘Kingsley simply never understood economics and yet he was always trying to understand. “Explain it to me, then” he would say, but his attention soon wandered’ (Rolph, 1973: 195).

For a little over twenty years the Meiji press demonstrated a remarkable degree of vitality, resilience, and strength of purpose in the face of severely repressive laws of which the most onerous and irksome were those authorizing the government to ban and suspend publications. When, in March 1897, the 26th Century Affair culminated in the passage of revised press laws eliminating that dreaded power, the new freedom was largely the product of leadership which came from the press itself, and particularly from that part of the press often characterized as ‘conservative’, ‘right-wing’, ‘nationalist’ or even ‘ultra-nationalist’.

In analysing a campaign launched by the Indian Tea Market Expansion Board in a Hindi literary periodical, this article seeks to read tea advertisements within the cultural history of gendered lives and nationalism in the decade leading up to Indian Independence. More specifically, it explores how multiple versions of feminized Indian modernity came to feature in the construction of black tea as a healthy, social, and national beverage. As the habit and custom of tea drinking was not common amongst the Indian population of the first half of the twentieth century, the advertisements focused on the creation of a culture of ‘proper’ tea preparation and ‘correct’ consumption. Not only did the middle-class woman and her family feature centrally in these advertisements; aristocratic and working women as well as movie actresses were all associated with the beverage drunk to reenergize and savour. While the advertisements addressed middle-class society and consciousness, this article argues that they did so by also drawing on, and not distancing from, diverse class, caste, and professional contexts.

By writing about the late eighteenth-century revolution which led to the East India Company rule, members of a largely Muslim pre-colonial administrative elite in eastern India sought take control over their own history. They explained the society and ancien régime of India, as well as themselves, to the new British rulers for whom they worked. In so doing, they strove to inform and guide the new British colonial authorities into employing them in the new administration as well as into valuing the cultural mores and bureaucratic experience which they embodied. They also wrote introspectively for the own class, trying to understand the causes of the revolution that had displaced their own traditional rulers and themselves with rule by Europeans and administrations staffed increasingly by Indians with backgrounds different from their own.

This article revisits the issue of the offshore islands in the Taiwan Strait during the Cold War. Benefitting from archival materials only recently made available, specifically Chiang Kai-shek's personal diaries, CIA declassified materials, Taiwanese Foreign Ministry files, and rare publications from the Contemporary Taiwan Collection at the Library of the Institute of Oriental Culture, University of Tokyo, this research examines the cloud of suspicion surrounding the secret contacts between Taipei and Beijing leading up to and during the 1958 offshore islands crisis, elucidating how such a political tête-à-tête, and the resultant tacit consensus over the status of the islands, gradually brought about an end to the conflict between Taiwan and Communist China. In hindsight, the crises over the offshore islands along China's southeast coast momentarily brought the United States closer to war with Communist China, while putting the relationship between Taipei and Washington to a serious test. The end result, however, was that, while these isles were technically embedded in the unfinished civil war between the Chinese Nationalists and Communists, they provided, ironically, an opportunity for secret communications and, ultimately, a kind of détente between the two supposedly deadly enemies across the Taiwan Strait. A close examination of the details of these crises, along with their attendant military, political, and diplomatic complexities, reveals an amazing amount of political intrigue at both the local and international levels that has not been fully realized until now.

In the aftermath of the Nanjing Massacre, one way in which Wang Jingwei's Reorganized National Government sought to impose social order was to implement a corporatist labour strategy. Inspired by European fascist theory and building on the pre-war Nationalist-Government labour legislation, corporatism sought to prevent union autonomy, stifle class-based sentiment, and undermine the pursuit of class interests whether on the part of capitalists or of workers. It aimed to ensure government control and loyalty to the state, and promote production. An analysis of approximately 50 records of labour–capital disputes mediated by the Shehui yundong zhidao weiyuanhui (Social Movement Guidance Committee) during the early 1940s suggests that the Wang regime carved out a sphere autonomous from Japanese oversight and exerted state control over commercial associations and artisans employed in the handicraft sector. Even so, worker actions show that workers did not trust corporatism to provide social unity. Contrary to much of the Chinese historiography on occupied Nanjing that emphasizes either social repression or resistance, one finds that state authorities in most cases granted trade unions’ economic demands for higher wages. The state provided workers with a modicum of agency while pressuring commercial associations to accept worker demands. In response to inflation and to preserve their breadwinner status, male artisans actively participated in the arbitration process. Workers’ agency did not reflect an endorsement of Wang Jingwei's regime or of corporatism. It was a tacit form of consent as a means of survival.

This article presents a new interpretation of the reign of the Ottoman sultan Mehmed the Conqueror (r. 1444–46, 1451–81) as refracted through the twin historical lenses of Mughal South Asia and the Renaissance Mediterranean. On the one hand, it argues that Mehmed, despite his current reputation as a conquering hero of Islam, in fact aspired to a model of sovereignty analogous to Akbar's Sulh-i Kull, and with a common point of origin in the conceptual worlds of post-Mongol Iran and Timurid central Asia. On the other hand, it also draws from the historiography of the Italian Renaissance to interpret Mehmed's cultural politics as being simultaneously inspired by a particular thread of Renaissance philosophy, the Prisca Theologia, which in many ways served as the Ottoman equivalent of Akbar's Sulh-i Kull.

This paper re-examines the nature of the Muslim League's mobilization of the UP Muslims during the period of Congress party rule and the extent to which it was successful in emerging as their ‘authoritative, representative organization’. In the light of such a re-examination, the paper makes two arguments. First, in contrast to the existing historiography which highlights the role of Jinnah in the ML's revival, this paper underlines the agency of the local leadership of the ML in this process. Second, the paper argues that even though the ML emerged as a popular political party among the UP Muslims in this period, its strength still remained uncertain. This became evident during the Madhe Sahaba agitation between 1938 and 1939 that led to serious tensions and riots between Shias and Sunnis in the city of Lucknow. These tensions threatened to fracture the political base of the ML in the UP besides snowballing into a wider all-India conflict. During this crisis the ML stood aside helplessly, unable to exert its authority as the ‘premier’ organization of the Indian Muslims. These divisions within the Muslim community in the ML's putative bastion in the UP demonstrate that the party still had a task ahead in terms of rallying the Qaum.

This article focuses on Japanese government restrictions and regulation of urban entertainments during the 1920s and 1930s as examples of attempts to rectify what was perceived as the declining morals of a modernizing, industrializing Japanese society. In this respect it adds another dimension to depictions of the Second World War as opposition to the cultural as well as political hegemony of the major Western powers. However, although war no doubt gave added impetus to the state's desire to unify popular support and sense of loyalty to the nation, morality campaigns had been initiated even before war had become an imminent possibility. Restrictions were imposed on cafés, dance halls and other modern entertainments, representing opposition to Westernizing, modernizing trends in social values and behaviour that had become prominent in the cities during the 1920s—individualism, materialism, sexuality, and more particularly, female sexuality. Middle class Protestants played a significant role in promoting and shaping these policies. Although such reformers disagreed with the government on other matters, they actively enlisted governmental support to carry out a moral cleansing of the ‘spiritual pests’ infesting the nation.