Of the Many places on this globe that were touched by the withering blast of war, I doubt if in any the life of the people has been more completely changed than on Okinawa. This long, irregularly shaped island is just less than half the size of Rhode Island. In 1940 the population (435,681) was about the same as that of Newark, New Jersey. Its subtropical climate has a mean annual temperature of about 72° F. The humidity is excessive, and the rainfall is about 83 inches per year. Of the twelve to forty-five typhoons which affect it from May to October, three to six pass directly over it, usually causing widespread damage because they coincide with the growing season. Vegetation is generally dense and hard to penetrate. Pines abound on the forested hillsides, and thickets of pandanus, the leaves of which are used in various native handicrafts, are not infrequent. Wild life consists mainly of deer and wild pigs; rats, mice, and five species of deadly venomous snakes are also found, and mosquitoes, lice, fleas, and other insect pests abound. Its mineral deposits are of little consequence, but abundant limestone, sand, and gravel supply valuable construction materials. The northernmost section of Okinawa has a central high ridge with peaks ranging up to 1,650 feet. The slopes are very steep and cut by a maze of ravines. The central section is a ruggedly hilly plateau ranging up to 500 feet. The southern section is characterized by small plains and rolling hills.' Here the largest cities are found as well as most of the population and modern facilities.

The dormant political atmosphere, so long characteristic of the colonial society of the Indies, was undergoing an almost imperceptible change at the dawn of the twentieth century. Apart from the official adoption of the “Ethical Policy”—the moral assumption by the Netherlands of a concern for “native” welfare—ripples indicative of a new consciousness were occurring within the indigenous society. A movement for female education and emancipation was instigated by Raden Adjeng Kartini, daughter of the Regent of Djapara. A socio-cultural organization of Javanese intellectuals named Boedi Oetomo (Splendid Endeavor) was founded in May 1908. The Sarekat Islam (United Islam), initially concerned with economic matters, had by 1912 begun to stress religious principles and was soon to gain a mass following under Hadji O. S. Tjokroaminoto. The Eurasian E. F. E. Douwes Dekker, through agitation and the establishment of a real independence party, the Indische Partij (Party of the Indies), was the first to make a major contribution in the field of political nationalism.

James C. Scott’s prodigious work has influenced numerous fields of inquiry, often profoundly, as documented in this forum. This essay suggests how an extension of Scott's theoretical apparatus might provide fresh understanding of stalemated contentious politics of great importance to rural well-being.

To make a global survey of the study of Chinese literature today would hardly be possible within the space of a single article; apart from the sheer amount of material to be covered and the linguistic competence required, it would be very difficult to discuss—in the same breath—works carried out in radically different social and cultural environments and under radically different assumptions about the nature and purpose of literary scholarship. This survey, therefore, will be limited to the study of Chinese literature in the Western world, which, however, is not to be understood in a strictly geographical sense but rather in a cultural-linguistic one. Thus, works written in or translated into a Western language, and with a predominantly “Western” orientation, may be included irrespective of the author's nationality or the place of publication—whereas works by Chinese, Japanese, Soviet, and Eastern European scholars in their own languages will not be discussed. It should also be made clear—obvious though it may be—that this survey, not being a bibliography, cannot be exhaustive; it can only concentrate on works that appear to represent significant trends. Failure to mention a work, therefore, does not necessarily imply lack of esteem, nor does mention of a work necessarily imply unreserved agreement. Chronologically, this survey will cover works completed since i960, as well as a few works in progress and planned works. Finally, we may venture to take a glance at future possibilities and problems.

The main contention of this essay is that railways in Malaya were constructed specifically to serve the tin and rubber industries which were dominated by Western capitalist enterprise. The railroads were concentrated in the west coast states, reinforcing the trend toward economic specialization that had already begun. The pattern of subsequent capital investment which was related to railroad development produced wide regional inequalities. It gave rise to a spatial dualism that was most evident in the emergence of export-oriented enclaves and the associated infrastructure in the western states, leaving the eastern states outside the mainstream of capitalist development. The railways did not stimulate well-rounded economic development in the country because they had little or no multiplier effect on the local economy. The benefits of railroad construction accrued largely to the British economy. I seek to make clear the links between railway development in Malaya, the emergence of an extractive-colonial economy heavily specialized in tin and rubber, and the incorporation of the country into the international capitalist system.

In recent years, the Philippines, along with numerous other “developing” nations of the world, has experienced an accelerated change in many of its basic social institutions. To put it simply, we can describe these changes as part of the transition from a traditionalized, agriculturally oriented socio-economic structure to one more in line with the goals and institutions of a modern industrial society. The actual situation, however, is more complex, and a number of other factors not necessarily related to industrialization have been involved. These include changes in the demographic structure, shifting loci of political power, and the “demonstration effect” of numerous external agencies which have widened both taste and aspiration horizons.

Few would deny that one of the most important factors shaping the Chinese economy in the past hundred years or so was the economic contact between China and the West. This external economic confrontation has been widely held by the Chinese as a factor detrimental to the development of the Chinese economy. First, it is argued that foreign trade and foreign investment in China upset the Chinese economy by ruining handicraft industries and disrupting agriculture. Secondly, foreign trade and investment in China are alleged to have drained the Chinese economy of its wealth because of the secular unfavorable balance of trade of China and the large amount of income made or remitted to their home countries by Western enterprises in China. Thirdly, it is maintained that foreign enterprises in China were so effective in their competitive power or enjoyed so many advantages secured on their behalf by their respective governments that the Chinese-owned modern enterprises were hopelessly oppressed and had little chance, if any, to grow.

The period 1740–1800 is full of striking political and military events. Beginning with Nadir Shah's conquest, India experienced internal wars and Asian and European assaults, which overwhelmed the Mughal Empire and led to British supremacy. This essay endeavors to show the nature of the culture of India during this rather disturbed period.

It is difficult to expound in any pithy fashion on the imprint that James C. Scott's work has had on writing history in the orbit of Asia. Where to start? From The Moral Economy of the Peasant all the way to Against the Grain, Scott's work has found receptive and fertile ground among his peers in Asian studies, who have often proudly pointed out to their non-Asianist colleagues that Scott is “one of their own.” This has certainly been true “internally” as well, in the ways that Southeast Asianists have spoken to their fellow professionals in the larger, allied subdisciplines of South and East Asian studies. It does not matter that Scott's books have touched on a wide variety of subjects: the central concerns with power, agency, space, and the essence of a shared humanity have all resonated with his professional interlocutors.

In the first years of the postcolonial era, students of politics in the new nation- states often assumed that “primordial” ties of kinship, language, ethnicity, and religion would gradually give way to a more encompassing sense of national political community. The emergence of such an expanded civic sense, it was hoped, would be paralleled by the development of economic, educational, and even religious institutions similarly premised on a broader, more socially accommodative, and self-consciously sustained concept of community. The expansion of political and economic opportunities made possible by the departure of European nationals, of course, might result in momentary incidents of communal competition. Ultimately, however, the social bases of conflict and solidarity would shift from their earlier organization to newly created bonds of class and profession, and the potential political divisiveness of these would be constrained by an overarching allegiance to national community and common interests. Although Marxist students of nation building rejected the integrative optimism of this model, they tended to assume that, in Asia as in Europe in earlier centuries, regional, ethnic, and religious allegiances would eventually give way to those of class and economic interest. Politics and social identity in Asia's new states were, in a word, “posttraditional,” and posttraditionalism was, almost by definition, political community in search of a new self.

This introduction discusses how to think about the U.S. military presence as an understudied force of globalization both theoretically and historically. In an effort to bring together three articles written by a sociologist, an anthropologist, and a historian, it engages theoretically with issues of unequal power relations, feelings of ambivalence, and postcolonial agency. It also provides summaries of three case studies on South Korea, Okinawa, and mainland Japan to show both intentional and unintentional cultural consequences of the long-term U.S. military presence in these societies.

In September 1965, there occurred between the armies of India and Pakistan a fierce clash which each side attributed to the aggressive designs of the other. This undeclared war lasted only a short time; first a ceasefire ordered by the United Nations, and later the pact signed at Tashkent, brought the hostilities to a formal close. It was by no means a spontaneous or unexpected flareup, the hatred and antagonism that caused it had been festering for a long time. Similarly, its effects have not been short-lived; neither have they been restricted to the area of military logistics and high diplomacy. In this paper I intend to review the consequences of that conflict for Urdu language and literature. I shall proceed by showing why it was necessary for Urdu writers, especially the poets, to respond to this war, and what sort of attitudes were displayed in the poetry written exclusively in response to it. I shall then discuss certain subsequent developments in the general area of Urdu language and literature and end by presenting my own conclusions with regard to the future.

In comparison with other forms of Chinese religions, the study of Chinese Buddhism benefits from several factors. First, the international range of Buddhism allows for fruitful comparison with developments in other neighboring cultures such as India and Japan, and the contemporary identity of Buddhism as a missionary—or at least adoptable—religion provides a continuing audience and community of scholars. Second, the maturity of Buddhist studies as a field of scholarly inquiry, especially in Japan and Europe, has allowed for synergistic cooperation with colleagues having different educational backgrounds and points of view. And, third, the recent emphasis on the study of nonmainstream or popular religious practices has presented challenges that have led the field in new and exciting directions. An attempt to bring together scholars working in these different areas is reported in McRae and Armijo-Hussein et al. 1989.

From our present-day vantage point, the founding era of South Asian studies at Chicago looks like an age of unalloyed conceptual and political innocence. Area identities were given, disciplinary formations were unquestioned, the purposes of scholarship were self-evident, and the future was roseate. Half a century later, common sense on all these questions has vanished, and where we go from here is an entirely open question, requiring open and sustained discussion.