This article considers the implications of the popularisation of Facebook groups that share historical photographs for the writing of Thai national and photographic histories. Rather than dismissing these groups as lacking in historical rigour, I propose that the nostalgic impetus behind their formation indicates an important way through which we may rethink the continued relevance of Thailand's history to its current sociopolitical situation. Drawing from Craig J. Reynolds’ (1992) argument regarding the interrelationship between the ‘plot of Thai history’ and the narrative historical form, I consider how this plot might be challenged or displaced through a movement from text to image, and from the material to the digital.

This article examines the history and functions of the Brunei State Council (1907—1959). Although a "rubber stamp" to the British Resident's decisions until 1950, thereafter the Council, dominated by the nominees of a new and strong Sultan, Omar Ali Saifuddin III, became an Achilles heel to the British officialdom that yielded maximum power to the traditional elements under the Constitution promulgated in 1959.

Community radio has strongly changed Thailand's centralised media landscape. This article analyses community radio's role in establishing a public sphere in the context of Southern Thailand's ongoing Malay Muslim insurgency. This article argues that although the new community radio stations potentially provide ethnic communities, particularly Malay Muslims, with a chance to broadcast in their own language, these stations are dominated by middle-class broadcasters and commercial interests. More politically-oriented community radio stations in Southern Thailand feel threatened by both the Thai military's attempts to intimidate them or influence their programming as well as by militant threats to broadcasters who show favour to the Thai armed forces, which results in the self-censorship of sensitive topics. In addition, the community radio sector is fragmented between Malay Muslim and Buddhist broadcasters.

In Thailand the widespread assumption that bhikkhunī ordination has already been disrupted and that as a result Theravāda Buddhist women can no longer be ordained has been challenged by a group of women who have received the full monastic precepts from foreign saṅgha and practise Theravāda Buddhism in yellow monastic robes. Public concerns have centred on whether such bhikkhunī ordinations are possible, and how women could become bhikkhunī in a ‘correct’ way. Both supporters and opponents are often vocal in discussing ordination ceremony procedures, based on their interpretation of the vinaya, the monastic disciplines. This paper argues that it is not a matter of ‘right’ procedure, but rather of the authority of the religious institution or tradition that validates one's ordination. Even if a woman is ordained as a bhikkhunī by the ‘right’ procedure, her status remains unstable unless the religious authority of her country sanctions her ordination. In other words, it is only a political decision made by a religious institution — in the case of Thailand, the National Saṅgha — that can reinstate ‘legitimate’ bhikkhunī ordination.

The nature of constitutional government in any society must strongly be dependent on whether the people to be governed are relatively homogeneous or belong to different communal groups with differing interests.

In a relatively homogeneous society, constitutional provisions usually reflect certain generally accepted values while at the same time giving sufficient scope for efficiency in administration. Admittedly the degree to which the values reflected are in fact ‘generally acceptable’ may be open to dispute; but agreement with, and opposition to, constitutional provisions in such a society are not generally the outcome of rigidly compartmentalized attitudes. Consequently, it is possible to rely on what is often called ‘popular opinion’.

For this International Conference of South-East Asian Historians, it is my honour to contribute a paper on “Dr. Jose Rizal, Father of Filipino Nationalism,” for several reasons. First, Dr. Rizal himself was very much interested in the history of this part of the world. Second, this year 1961 has been proclaimed by the President of the Philippines as the Rizal Centenary Year, for our hero was born in 1861. Third, if Rizal were alive today, he would have been happy to receive an invitation to attend our Conference because our hero was the organizer of the International Association of Filipinists in Europe in 1889. Fourth, Dr. Rizal has been ranked by his biographers, both Filipinos and foreigners, as one of the great intellectual leaders of Asia, together with Mahatma Gandhi of India and Dr. Sun Yat-sen of China. Lastly, Dr. Rizal visited this city of Singapore no less than three times in the course of his many travels to foreign lands.

In February 1276, the Southern Sung capital Lin-an (modern Hang-chou) fell to the Mongols, and the last Sung emperor, Chao Hsien (Kung-ti ), was taken captive. With the aid of its loyal ministers, the remaining members of the royal house fled to the south. In June the nine-year-old Chao Cheng was enthroned in Foochow as emperor (Tuan-tsung ). However, with high officials in Fukien defecting one after the other to the Mongols, the royal house was forced before long to retreat by sea further south to Kwangtung. In March 1277 the Sung stronghold at Canton also fell and the imperial family hastily fled to Mei-wei , in the vicinity of the present-day Kowloon peninsula of Hong Kong. In November, under the mounting pressure of the Mongols, they retreated south-west along the Kwangtung coast. Since Chao Hsien was never likely to resume control and there seemed to be some chance of taking refuge in the vassal kingdoms of Champa and An-nam (in present-day Vietnam), there followed a flurry of Chinese emigration. The tragedy of the last Sung emperor has evoked much sympathy in history, but the story of the migration and search for refuge of some Sung officials has not been fully explored. This paper attempts to give a descriptive account and present a brief analysis of the background factors which shaped the course of migration, as well as its impact on the increased Chinese cultural influence in Vietnam.

In 1948, the Chinese alone of the three major communities of Malaya had no single political or quasi-political organisation concerned to foster and further their interests within that country. The United Malays National Organisation had evolved under the leadership of Dato' Onn bin Ja'afar to press Malay opposition to the Malayan Union scheme, with the enfeebling of the Sultans and the modification of the special position of the Malays that it involved. Having achieved this specific aim, it remained to work for the general welfare of Malays, air their felt grievances and assert their claimed rights. Fragmentation within the Indian community along religious and racial lines was reflected in the multiplication of organisations claiming to speak for it, though by 1948 the Malayan Indian Congress was beginning to emerge as the chief of these, and to draw others within its ambit. But, although many of the more important mainland Chinese political parties, including the Kuomintang and Communists, had their branches or counterparts within the Malayan Chinese community, the political strength of the community was dispersed and it spoke with no clear voice on matters concerning it as a whole. This is especially illustrated in its failure to organise any effective counter to U.M.N.O's crusade against the Malayan Union scheme, although the Chinese stood to gain much by its retention, and lost much when it was revoked. Tan Cheng Lock, and others aware of the long-term implications of the change, made efforts to arouse the Chinese to defend their newly gained rights, but the majority remained apathetic and politically disengaged. It would seem that many of the more conservative Chinese had serious reservations about their political future within Malaya, or felt that those predominantly Chinese organisations primarily concerned with local Malayan politics were dangerously tainted with left-wing bias: yet the organisations representative of the conservative group — the Chinese Chambers of Commerce and the Chinese Assembly Halls — appeared to have little access to, or influence upon Government.

By the middle of the nineteenth century, Britain had established a firm foothold in Burma. As a result of the Second Anglo-Burmese War which broke out in 1852, Britain acquired the delta area of the country's most important river, the Irrawaddy. This, added to what she had previously gained from the First Anglo-Burmese War of 1824, had placed under her control, the entire Burmese seaboard.

For almost a century before 1629, the sultanate of Acheh in north Sumatra was the most formidable indigenous state on either side of Malacca Strait. A stalemate had developed between Acheh and the Portuguese in Malacca, with the Portuguese unable to maintain sufficient forces locally to invade Acheh, and the Achinese unable to press their numerous sieges of Malacca to a successful conclusion before the Portuguese relief fleet arrived from India. Under additional Dutch pressure early in the seventeenth century, the Portuguese seem to have been unable to render the assistance against Acheh which they had given the Malay states on occasion in the sixteenth century. In 1613–20 Johore, Pahang, Kedah and Perak were conquered by Sultan Iskandar Muda (1607–36) of Acheh. In most cases, the defeated sultan was carried off to Acheh and a relative installed as a vassal of Acheh. Sultan Ala'ud-din Ri'ayat Shah II of Johore escaped when the Achinese overran Batu Sawar in June 1613, but died a few years later. His half-brother, Raja Bongsu or Raja Seberang, was taken to Acheh, married to Iskander Muda's sister, and sent back to Batu Sawar as Sultan Abdu'llah Ma'ayat Shah (1613–23). When Abdu'llah rejected Iskander Muda's sister and married a daughter of the Sultan of Jambi about 1617, he also rejected the Achinese tradition of hostility to the Portuguese. For this, the Achinese pursued him from his new capital at Lingga to Tambilan, where he died of “hartseer” (despair) in 1623. Carpentier, the Dutch governor-general at Batavia, assumed that the once mighty Johore empire had come to an end.

That view of the history of maritime South East Asia which fixed a rigid dividing line in 1511 or 1600, and regarded the assertion of European dominance in the area as marking the frontier between traditional and modern history, has long ago been discredited and discarded. It led to the treatment of the earlier history of Malaya and Indonesia as a mere prelude to the coming of the Europeans, or at least as an era without relevance to later events, to which special criteria must be applied. The later history was treated predominantly as the story of European activities and rivalries, and purely western criteria were applied even to indigenous themes. All this is now regarded as unscientific, and labelled ‘Europe-centric’. Few, if any, contemporary historians would challenge this judgment so far as the internal history of Malaya and Indonesia and their component parts are concerned, and, though there is still ample room for discussion as to its application in practice, this paper does not seek to re-open the debate. It is concerned not so much with the development of maritime South East Asian society, or with the history of individual states within what are now Malaysia and Indonesia, as with the relations of these states with each other.

The impact of the political unification of Burma and India on the lives of the people living in these two countries has been little studied. Despite the extensive and varied literature available on Burma and on India, for the most; part scholars who have written about either or both of these countries look upon the annexation of Burma to India as an unavoidable accident of history which had relatively little effect on India and only slightly more on Burma. For the Burma historians, the most important aspect of unification was the political changes which occurred under alien rule. Specifically, the political progress toward self-rule in Burma prior to separation is interpreted by them as a by-product of Indian advances. They call attention to the effects of unlimited Indian migration upon the local economy and the rising nationalist movement. The historians who are oriented towards economic and social organization give attention to the role of the immigrant Indians as labourers and money lenders and note their effect upon the changing characteristic of Burma's economy. They also make reference to the different religious and social ideas which were held by Burmese and Indians and the racial conflicts which erupted. While these are significant results of unification, it is not the whole story. There were many less obvious and dramatic effects upon Burmese life, which, when more fully explored and understood may recast the present interpretation of the whole period.

Comprehending the origins, dynamics and solutions to the ongoing violence in southern Thailand's Muslim majority border provinces has proved to be a challenge, not only to successive Thai governments and security forces but also to scholars and other investigators. Insurgent-instigated attacks, now paralleled by and intertwined with more opportunistic forms of violence, have afflicted the border region for nearly seven years (as of late 2010), with no sign of ultimate abatement, despite a considerable investment of resources by the Thai state. Arguably under-reported by the world media, this conflict has nonetheless attracted its fair share of parachute journalism and superficial reportage by instant-experts, single-issue rights advocates, wide-eyed postgraduate researchers and assorted cranks. Many of them have been ensnared by local ‘fixers’ with their own agendas. Despite some notable exceptions, much academic research effort in the region itself has been hit-and-run. As Duncan McCargo emphasises: ‘this is a messy, awkward, in-your-face conflict’ (p. 188) — as such it demands a comparable ‘in-your-face’ and sustained field-based research effort, which, as he rightly notes, has been sadly lacking.