In the decade following the Second World War, two aspects of Malaya's political life were predominant. First, there was an increased political awareness among Malayans which led to the formation of political organizations, the political mobilization of a significant proportion of the population, and eventually, in 1955, to the holding of Malaya's first federal elections. Second, there was the “Emergency”, the name commonly given to the guerrilla war waged by the Malayan Communist Party (M.C.P.) and its supporters from June 1948 to August 1960. Both of these aspects have been chronicled and examined in some detail by students of Malayan history. And yet, interestingly enough, rarely have the effects of one upon the other been fully considered. Indeed, the usual pattern of analysis in the, often otherwise excellent, general studies that examine this period is for each aspect to be treated in a separate section or chapter. Moreover, accounts which focus solely on the Emergency are even less encouraging in this respect. Mr. Anthony Short's impressive history of the Colonial Government's activities in countering the Communist guerrillas is typical in the scant attention which is given to the political parties' role in undermining the Communists' cause. The purpose of this paper, therefore, is to explore some of the links between the development of the political parties, especially the United Malays National Organization (UMNO) and the Malayan Chinese Association (M.C.A.), prior to 1955, and the course of the Emergency.

The expansion of public education is often seen as an effective tool for the promotion of national identity and the mitigation of ethno-religious tensions in diverse post-colonial states. This essay questions such assumptions via an examination of successive Philippine governments' efforts to deploy educational policy as a response to chronic tensions between the nation's Christianised mainstream and a restive Muslim minority on the southern island of Mindanao. It suggests that the expansion of education to foster a cohesive national identity without careful reconsideration of the religious, cultural and political biases inherent in its content is likely to fail in achieving peaceful, cohesive relations between different ethno-religious communities in religiously diverse multicultural states.

Clifford Geertz, in his discussion of the social history of an East Central Javanese town, described how rural migrants attempted to make sense of modern elections and political factions by applying old systems of meanings. As people adjusted to the evolving social conditions of new urban contexts, new knowledge supposedly emerged to order social relations. Yet he observed that in the 1950s this rarely was the case; usually a sense of vagueness and incoherence persisted. Similarly, Geertz's analysis of a Javanese funeral concluded that the ritual “failed” and consequently tensions persisted and intensified as a result of societal and cultural discontinuity; the social and the cultural were moving in opposite directions. Old cultural notions did not tend to give way to new notions more adept at effecting social solidarity. The contest over whose voice, whose sense of self and image of post-colonial Indonesia would prevail eventually culminated in the bloodbath of 1965–66, which marked the abrupt end of the Old Order and the birth of the Suhartoled New Order regime.

Considering the importance of the early dates for bronze working technology in Southeast Asia that several of us have been presenting in preliminary reports over the last fifteen years, it is somewhat surprising that there have not been more critical articles published concerning our evidence and interpretation thereof. The primary reason for this is no doubt because final reports of the pertinent sites presenting the relevant data in context have not yet appeared. The great majority of the interested archaeologists are simply awaiting the final site reports before they decide whether our interpretation is reasonable. We are sorry for the great delay in completing the final reports. Speaking of Non Nok Tha, the first site from which excavated data produced early dates for bronze working, the descriptive portion of the research has been completed, the analysis of the data has almost been completed (primarily by Donn Bayard), and it is hoped that the first volume of a two volume final report can be submitted to the press by the end of 1982. The second volume will be totally a data volume, probably published in microfiche.

In the aftermath of World War Two, Malaya saw the emergence of the Malayan Communist Party (MCP) and its attempt to mobilize labour support against the returning British colonial government. The Pan Malayan General Labour Union (PMGLU), later renamed the Pan Malayan Federation of Trade Union (PMFTU), was established as a front organization to harness multiracial labour support and to work in close liaison with other left-wing political groups. Trade unions that mushroomed after the War were invariably dominated by the PMGLU and used as tools for the realization of communist political objectives in Malaya.

A seventeenth-century painting, ‘Pieter Cnoll and His Family’ by J. J. Coeman, reveals a number of entry points from which Indonesian histories can be explored. Through a discussion of the painting and its subjects, a variety of issues ranging from VOC (United East India Company) policies and mestizo relationships to gender, labour and legal rights in VOC-controlled ports are discussed.

The tawassul is a ritual invocation popularly used in West Java at grave visits and in other Islamic observances. In simple terms, it consists of two acts; the naming of figures who are considered as mediators (wasilah) between a supplicant and Allah, and the making of an offering for the benefit of the mediator. Participants in tawassul hold contrasting understandings of what is achieved by performing it. Furthermore, the invocation is easily adapted for diverse settings while retaining its basic syntax. This multivocality and flexibility provide keys to understanding the popularity of the tawassul as a religious observance for Sundanese Muslims.

In the conventional historiography of Indonesia, the Second World War is equated with the Japanese occupation, and 1942 is a year of sudden change. This article argues that there was a prelude to these conditions. Changes in the global economic structure due to the Second World War, and countermeasures by the state authorities, began well before the Japanese invasion. The fundamental problem was the gradually deepening economic isolation that necessitated state intervention.

I. The Philippine Scripts

In 1593, there was printed in Manila a most remarkable xylographic (wood-block) book, comprising Juan de Plascenia's Doctrina Christiana in Spanish, romanized Tagalog and Tagalog script (see Fig. 1). While there is still some debate as to whether this was the first book to be published in the Philippines, there appears little doubt that it constitutes the earliest extant printed example of any Philippine script.

Southeast Asian states are often referred to as “nations” (for example, the Association of Southeast Asian Nations or ASEAN), thus implying that the peoples of each state form only one national group and are easily distinguished and characterized. In fact, more often than not, each population of the various states shows not only differences of nationality but also many other differences. Among these factors of differentiation, the political geographer attaches particular importance to the two factors of language and nationality. These two cultural factors are elements of the “state-idea” and can affect the cohesion and strength of a state. All the newly independent states of Southeast Asia are seeking to establish their state-ideas and, i n the analysis of each state's population, these two factors can throw much light on the cohesion, functioning, and viability of that particular state.

On the Foundation Day of the University of Malaya on 8 October 1949, Malcolm MacDonald, the Chancellor of the new university and British Commissioner-General in Southeast Asia, proudly declared that the university was founded “at a timely and auspicious moment” when “we are witnessing in Malaya the birth of a nation”. MacDonald rested his inspiring theme on the British postwar policy of preparing Malaya for eventual self-government within the British Commonwealth. Under this policy Singapore was constituted a distinct crown colony with a legislature in which only six of the twenty-two members were popularly elected, whereas the other Settlements and the Malay States were merged into the Malayan Union which had fully nominated federal and state legislatures. It seems clear from the postwar political reorganization that the British policy-makers had intended to take Malaya slowly, stage by stage, to self-government and eventual independence.

It is, to say the least, highly unsatisfactory to begin a discussion of developments in Malay society within the last century by using 1874 as the take-off point. But, in Malaysian historiography, it has been so common to accept 1874 as the all important watershed between what is generally believed to be a period of negligible advancement and a period of rapid development that any discussion which makes a sudden departure from conventional practice, without appropriate comments, may confuse more than enlighten.

We find this a most curious attack, both in tone and in substance; Loofs-Wissowa appears to believe that we, Solheim, Gorman, and the media have been engaged in a conspiracy to cloud the minds of Westerners and Southeast Asians alike on the origins of metallurgy in the region. Loofs-Wissowa evidently feels that Southeast Asian laymen view this question as equal in importance to contemporary issues there (which is of course not the case). He also believes that it is the most burning issue in archaeology since Piltdown or Glozel, splitting the profession into “Believers” in the “long dates” and “Non Believers”. This is again rather an exaggeration; we would estimate the “Believers” to number not more than a few hundred, while the “Non Believers” may be counted on the fingers of one hand (Marschall, Sørensen, Sieveking, and of course Loofs-Wissowa himself). The remainder of the archaeological world (i.e., over 90%) has other questions to occupy it. However, Loofs-Wissowa is certainly correct in pointing out the attention paid to the question of early metallurgy over the past few years, and we welcome this opportunity to counter his arguments and distinguish between our views and those published by the media. This may best be done by first pointing out errors of omission in the facts presented by Loofs-Wissowa, by examining basic errors in his conceptual framework, and finally by answering the three specific questions he poses.

On early European maps of what is now called Southeast Asia, the sea lies in the foreground, its whales and mermaids, waves and ships precisely drawn and prominent. To a modern reader looking back through centuries, with hindsight, such maps may illustrate ignorance, science lapsing into art, the greater scale ofsea features compared to those on land a straightforward function of the ocean's being a larger, blanker slate on which to draw. Yet the aquatic monster big enough to swallow Singapore, the headlands and inlets of Java's northern coast a finely charted fringe setting off the vagueness of a hinterland marked incognita — these anomalies-in-retrospect are altogether faithful to the thoroughly seagoing way in which the West first gained acquaintance with the region.

Several years ago Wong Lin Ken noted that, as yet, no general economic history of Malaysia had been written. Since then a considerable number of studies in both article and bookform have appeared; too many for a comprehensive listing here. These range from specialised works on particular industries, or aspects such as immigration, to more wide-ranging analyses of the political, social and administrative structure. The periods surveyed also vary considerably, but the tendency is towards relatively short time-spans of some twenty to forty years in the later nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Only one recent book, Economic Development of Modern Malaya by an economist, Lim Chong Yah, seeks to cover the economy as a whole over a longer period, roughly 1874–1963. But from the historian's viewpoint, much primary research still remains to be done before the pattern of changes in this period can be explained in full detail. However, the work done to date makes it possible to re-examine certain broad aspects such as the effects which can be directly attributed to the introduction of British administration. This is facilitated if some account is also taken of the very extensive literature on economic development, and colonialism, as well as on the situation in other countries with a similar historical experience. It must be emphasised that the following survey is necessarily selective in terms of the topics included and the published materials referred to.

Rubber, derived from the latex of the tree Heva brasiliensis, has from the First World War been the economic mainstay of the Malayan peninsula. Not only has rubber constituted Malaya's leading economic sector, but from 1914 down to the outbreak of war in Southeast Asia (with the two marginal exceptions of 1939 and 1941) Malaya was the world's largest single supplier of natural rubber. The revival of Malayan rubber was therefore of prime significance not only for the economic rehabilitation of Malaya but also for the global recovery of rubber consuming industries.

The Federation of Malaysia was formed in 1963, comprising the Malay Peninsula and the states of Sabah and Sarawak. In Peninsular Malaysia, archaeological activities including the protection of archaeological sites is under the jurisdiction of the Museums Department while the East Malaysian states have their own enactments and programmes covering this aspect of research. For this reason I restrict this paper to the archaeology of Peninsular Malaysia.

When Burma was separated from India in 1937, the production and distribution of opium in the trans-Salween area became an important issue for the British since the Government of Burma would be expected to adhere to the various international agreements to control the opium trade. Initiatives by British officials in London to tighten restrictions were necessary since this region produced over and above the licit requirements of opium for the Shan States, but they were never fully implemented owing to resistance from local authorities and traders and the lack of any alternative cash crop to substitute for opium.

In Bugis-Makassar society a king was identified in terms of his function in assuring the spiritual and material well-being of the whole community. Though distinguished from the rest of the population by the paraphernalia and “white blood” of kingship, the individual ruler did not reign in splendid isolation from the people. He was a visible presence whose active participation in the affairs of the community was an expected norm. On one level, he was regarded as an essential intermediary or link between mankind on this earth and the gods (or God) of the Upperworld; and, on another level, he was seen as an instrument of the people in maintaining the adat, or the laws and customs of the land. These two variant but co-existing beliefs in the role of kings reflect an existing tension between the rulers and the adat guardians, which had its roots at the very inception of kingship in this society.

In 1856 a Muslim Sultanate was founded in Yunnan, the southwestern Chinese province that borders Burma. In 1873, seventeen years later, this Sultanate was annihilated. The Muslim inhabitants of Yunnan are known as the Panthays.

There are several versions concerning Muslim origins in Yunnan. A tradition held by the Panthays themselves tells that the Emperor of China requested the Prophet Mohammed to send some Muslims to help him to get rid of evil spirits. The Prophet sent him 360 men, with whose aid the evil spirits were routed. The Arabs were welcomed with great honour and were allowed to settle near the capital. In course of time their numbers increased to such an extent that the Imperial Government was disturbed. The Muslims were therefore dispersed to the border areas of the Empire and resettled there. This account was related to the British mission which visited the Panthay Sultanate, by the Governor of the town of Momien. A very similar Chinese version tells of a Muslim army, several thousand strong, which came to the rescue of the Emperor of China at his request. After quelling the rebellion, the Muslims feared to return home, because during their long sojourn abroad they had been polluted by pork and other prohibited things, and decided to remain in China. Eventually they were sent to Yunnan and other places and became loyal subjects of the Emperor.