By 1914, Britain ceased to be the only industrialized nation. The era of the “imperialism of free trade” had ended. The British government was increasingly concerned with the need to review and deploy the Empire's “underdeveloped estates”, in Joseph Chamberlain's phrase, to support its domestic economy. Dependent colonies throughout the British Empire, however, were not encouraged to produce goods which could compete against imports coming directly from the industrial heartlands of Britain. As suggested by Kemp and Headrick, so long foreign rule continues, colonial societies, including those that were developed solely as trading city-ports (such as Singapore), have generally failed to generate a favourable environment for industrialization to take place. And even if some form of industrialization does take place, it is usually regarded as “peripheral” that is, industries that are largely dependent on imported technologies and supported by an abundant supply of cheap labour force, most of whom are women and children. Technology transfers which might have led to the growth of import-substitution industries were generally discouraged because not only they would have competed with British manufacturers, but they motivated the rise of native industrialists and cadres of engineers and technicians. Technology transfer, either in the form of a new process or piece of machinery, was introduced into a colony together with European experts who would zealously guard their knowledge and skills.

As Britain's major trading emporium in Southeast Asia, Singapore “was in no way an industrial city [and] at the end of the 1930s, first-stage import-substitution, involving a replacement of non-durable consumer goods, remained incomplete”. Industrial growth was linked to primary commodity exports and the rubber industry was the key contributor. Its role in the international trading system was that of a transshipment centre, just like Hong Kong which was used by British companies as the springboard to exploit the promising China market after 1842. Strategically situated, “[t]he colonial economy of Singapore and Malaya developed as part of what has been called the Old International Division of Labour (OIDL) in which the countries of the southern hemisphere exported primary products to the industrializing countries of the northern hemisphere which requited these with a return flow principally of manufactured goods”.

Having paved the way for restoring democracy after over a decade of Marcos' authoritarianism, popular views take EDSA People Power as a critical turning point in Philippine political history. This chapter seeks to take another look at this idea by evaluating the socio-political and discursive contexts within which it developed. Exploring two pathways, it shows, firstly, that the extent to which the EDSA revolt may be considered as a critical conjuncture depends significantly on the assessment of, and meanings attached to, the Marcos years. In other words, that this event looms large as a critical turning point notwithstanding the “return to good old days” in Philippine politics that it ushered in, is a reflection of two parallel and mutually reinforcing developments: (1) the hegemony of global discourse on democratization and (2) the strong anti-Marcos sentiments in the post-EDSA years that segments of the elite, civil society and international players promoted for their interests, both altruistic and self-serving. Secondly, this chapter argues that EDSA cannot be assessed simply in terms of its immediate effects on formal economic and political structures. One has to look at the democratization process “from below”, which necessarily takes time, and away from formal democratic institutions, to see the spaces it opened and the political energies it strengthened. A set of broader analytic lenses — ones that consider discursive resonances, that de-centre analysis from central state institutions, and that consider long-term changes in political culture — must be deployed in order to uncover the changes set in train by this event.

The EDSA “People Power” revolt of 1986 stands out in political iconography and ideography of democratization, both within and beyond the Philippines. Hailed as a paragon of peaceful political change, it is touted as having inspired through “demonstration effect” the struggles for democracy elsewhere in the region and beyond.

In modern Vietnam one could argue that there were a number of turning points that made history. The proclamation of the independence of Vietnam in September 1945 and the subsequent birth of the Democratic Republic of Vietnam certainly constituted a milestone, which put an end to more than eighty years of French colonial rule. The French returned with an intention to re-capture power leading to the outbreak of the First Indochina War. The Paris Conference in 1954 following Vietnam's victory over the French in Dien Bien Phu marked the complete departure of the French from the North of Vietnam and the partition of the country at the 17th parallel. The United States replaced France to support the government of the Republic of South Vietnam and to scrap the Paris Accord on the holding of a general election to unify Vietnam in 1956. The Second Indochina War (better known as the Vietnam War) followed as a result and lasted for almost twenty years. The unification of Vietnam in 1975 led to American disengagement, ushering in a whole new period for a united Vietnam for the first time in more than one hundred years. However, these thirty years were the time when Vietnam had to fight for independence and national liberation, which was conducive to the shared common feature of constant war and armed struggle both in the North and in the South.

The reconstruction of a war-torn Vietnam only started after the political and institutional reunification of the country in 1976. Hanoi implemented a Soviet-type command economic policy with great hopes of success. Nevertheless, the expansion of the socialist economic sector had not brought about the expected outcomes. In the North of Vietnam, acceleration of implementing co-operatives and enlargement of their size were apparently successful. In substance, agricultural co-operatives had further deteriorated. The size of the co-operatives had gone well beyond the management capacity of the local management boards.

The military made its move on the evening of 19 September 2006. Ominously foreshadowing that something big was about to go down, Thai television stations abruptly cut out of scheduled programming and played soothing, ready-made slideshows bearing still images of the royal family, at times accompanied by music composed by the King. Shortly thereafter, CNN reported that tanks were rolling through Bangkok in the direction of Government House. The capital city — a megalopolis of ten million people — was taken with derisive ease, in a matter of just minutes. A few tanks and a busload of special forces was all it took for the army to re-take control of the entire country. Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, hours away from speaking to the United Nations General Assembly, feigned outrage and surprise. But he had long been forewarned. Cheered in Bangkok and unencumbered by any hint of active popular opposition, the generals apologized for the “inconvenience” caused, promised to return the country to democracy within a year and, good measure, gave everyone a day off. The edicts that suspended the 1997 Constitution and banned all political activities were accompanied by the instruction that soldiers keep smiling in public.

Thailand is certainly no stranger to coups d'état. The putsch that ousted Thaksin, that is, is only the latest in a string of coups staged since the end of the absolute monarchy in 1932. But things were supposed to be different this time. At the turn of the new millennium, Thailand had been hailed as a success story, a beacon of freedom in a region where more or less oppressive, corrupt dictatorships are the rule. Among other things, the country had pulled through the deep financial crisis that enveloped much of Southeast Asia in 1997 without turning to military strongmen or extra-constitutional rule. The generals, for their part, had no longer seemed to pose much of a threat since the massacre of unarmed demonstrators in May 1992.

When the city-state of Singapore gained its independence in 1965, there was the question of whether the government should bring down the statue of Sir Stamford Raffles, the “founder” of Singapore and standing proudly in front of the iconic Victoria Memorial Hall. The statue was unveiled when the colony celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of the reign of Queen Victoria in 1887. In the words of Lee Kuan Yew:

For many former colonies of the British and other European empires, the memory of the colonial period is often a painful one, a national humiliation of conquest, military occupation and subservience. Independence was more often than not greeted as a celebration of liberation. For the island-state of Singapore, British colonialism and its ideology of “civilizing mission” did provide the thousands of Chinese, Indians, Malays and Europeans “the opportunity to make a better living”. Together with the British and other European entrepreneurs, engineers, missionaries, and municipal administrators, these forefathers laid a strong foundation of a modern city. The story of their effort started one morning in the month of January of the year 1819.

On 29 January 1819, Thomas Raffles landed on the white sandy beach of Singapore, near the mouth of the Singapore River. According to an eyewitness, Raffles was accompanied by two white men and a sepoy who carried a musket.

The case studies from Southeast Asia examined in this book appear to indicate that there have been a large number of developments that can be considered critical conjunctures in the last two decades or so. The country experts that were selected for this project obviously appear to think so and go on to offer compelling reasons on why particular events constitute the equivalent of conjunctures. In line with the requirements of the project, authors were tasked to trace antecedent conditions prior to the occurrence of a conjuncture. Similarly, they were then required to describe the changes that had been brought about by the said conjuncture. Particularly important in this regard is the appearance of contingent conditions that allow for the unfolding of various possibilities. Similarly, authors were also tasked to identify how a chosen course of action resulted in path-dependent outcomes that were subsequently replicated and acquired a certain trajectory that then became embedded over time. Other important questions pertain to the types of triggers for the conjuncture and the importance of structural and agency reasons for the path-dependent consequences. This concluding chapter ends the book with a discussion of broader theoretical concerns and trends that the book has highlighted.

BROADER TRENDS AND OBSERVATIONS

There are a number of important theoretical considerations that arise from these case studies. One of the major ones would be whether a conjuncture was made possible by external developments and if so whether the nature of such a development was broad-based or not. The preliminary evidence suggests that the Asian financial crisis served just such a function and was responsible for the downfall of the Soeharto regime in Indonesia and the meteoric rise of Thaksin Shinawatra in Thailand. Both countries were severely affected by the crisis and the Indonesian and Thai case studies indicate how post-crisis developments eventually led to the unfolding of a conjuncture.

During the nineteenth century, Western imperialists recognized the tremendous wealth — and power — that could be accrued from a systematic implementation of economic botany in their colonies. They were competing to discover, categorize, propagate, and exploit the wealth of plants from Asia and the Americas that had suddenly become available to them. By the late seventeenth century, the undisputed leaders in the field of economic botany were the Dutch, who had pushed aside the Portuguese to become the dominant European power in the East. The Dutch wanted to understand new plants for two main reasons: to find cures for the tropical diseases that were afflicting their sailors, colonists and merchants; and to find new agricultural commodities beyond the known spices, from which new wealth could be generated. They set up botanical gardens at their colonial outposts at the Cape, at Malabar, Ceylon and Java, and in Brazil, all which exchanged specimens with botanical gardens in Amsterdam and Leyden. Soon, England and France joined in the race. In this new field of “economic botany”, the pursuit of scientific knowledge went hand in hand with furthering the national interest. Botany was considered as “big science” during this period, an indicator of a country's might and sophistication. Indeed, some botanical gardens were even laid out in four quadrants, each representing Europe, Africa, Asia and the Americas. They were further subdivided into individual beds for particular plants. It was the dream of the imperial botanist to gather the world's plants in one place. In England, the Kew Gardens, set up in 1772, became the centre for botanical research in the British Empire. Around Kew revolved botanical stations set up in some colonies. These gardens were interlocked by a constant exchange of ideas, live plants and expertise. The objective of these colonial gardens was not, of course, the delectation of the inhabitants with beautiful flowers and trees. They were set up for the very practical purpose of experiments with new crops. Through its scientific study of plants transferred, the Kew Gardens and its satellite gardens in the colonies converted knowledge to economic gains and power which, in turn, contributed to making Britain as the number one industrial power in the world.

The 1988 popular uprising that ended the Socialist era of political governance and state building in Myanmar had all the makings of a significant historical conjuncture that not only transformed the country's political and economic systems as well as the nature of ethnic insurgencies but also brought Myanmar's contentious domestic issues to the attention of the international community. It coincided with the emergence of the triumphant outlook of Western democracies capitalizing on the apparent democratic turn following the collapse of Leninist regimes in Europe and brought about the internationalization of Myanmar's security, political and economic issues, premised upon liberal norms of human rights and democracy. The resulting polarized discourse on the country's political and economic reform agenda became part of the contested legacy of the aborted “Four Eights Movement” representing the crest of the revolutionary tide seen by the counter elites as a harbinger of a new political order. However, the democratic aspirations were not realized and the movement's momentum was quickly dissipated as the Tatmadaw (literally meaning royal force), or Myanmar armed forces, re-emerged as the principal steward of Myanmar's destiny. Differing interpretations of that legacy by the military regime and its domestic and foreign detractors have led to divergent attempts of reproduction that have yet to be resolved. On the other hand, a more paranoid, autocratic and powerful regime than the deposed BSPP (Burma Socialist Programme Party) regime emerged in the aftermath of the 1988 uprising, premised on the perpetuation of the Tatmadaw control over political and economic spaces. However, the new constitutional order that took some two decades to become institutionalized through the 2008 Constitution has given some hope for an irreversible change in the political system. This chapter will attempt to identify antecedent conditions preceding the conjuncture and trace the bankruptcy of the BSPP state leading to the rupture in 1988.

During the span of the Victorian Age, from 1837 to 1901, Britain's imperial trade had not only shifted the British economy and class system, but also indelibly changed its tastes and aesthetics. The last quarter of the nineteenth century saw an increasing mechanization of food production, processing and distribution for mass consumption and a corresponding expansion of the grocery trade in western Europe, especially Britain and the United States. The fledging canning industry in the United States was spurred by the need to supply food for troops during the Civil War. By 1870, agriculture in these countries became mechanized and more science-based. Food processing, such as canning and meat packing, was already done on a factory level. Rapid improvement in public transport technology enabled town dwellers to settle further and further into the countryside.

To cater to the new, greatly extended cities, new technology and processes of food preparation, preservation and transport had to be created. Food could no longer be brought from the farm to the doorstep. Without modern food technology, milk had to be boiled for much more than 12 hours, meats had to be cooked and salted and eggs pickled. But the urbanites of the early twentieth century industrial cities wanted to be pampered with the good things in life. By the 1880s new food and manufacturing technology was instrumental in meeting the changing tastes of consumers. It was now possible to produce standardized products in large volume and in small packages through the use of continuous process machinery. This led to the branded production of everything from toothpaste, chewing gum, photographic film to breakfast cereals, soups and canned products, all heavily promoted through newspaper and billboard advertisements. The increasing popularity of the English breakfast and afternoon tea created a rising demand for a wider range of manufactured biscuits, jams and factory-produced cakes amongst the working class living in the cities and suburban areas. Manufacturing firms, destined to be household names in the food industry, were established during this period and quickly monopolized some popular products. Peek Freans introduced the first “cream cracker” in the 1880s, and McVities gave the world the “digestive” biscuits in the 1890s.

The Industrial Revolution took place in Great Britain at about the 1760s, and by the 1850s Britain was crowned “the workshop of the world”. To celebrate, Queen Victoria opened “The Great Exhibition” at Crystal Palace on 1 May 1851. It was opened to all nations — including the “uncivilized” nations — and the main purpose was the display of Britain's industrial achievements. The Times reported on 2 May 1851 that it was “a sight the like of which has never happened before, and which … can never be repeated…”. The Queen herself recorded in her journal:

The Industrial Revolution was a period blessed with technological triumphs that did not draw upon theoretical knowledge. Many of the machines invented had little to do with the science of the day. The rise of the textile industry, which accounted much for the economic growth of eighteenth century Britain, was not the result of the application of scientific theory. The inventions of John Kay, James Hargreaves, Richard Arkwright and Samuel Crompton were essentially owed more to past craft practices than they did to science. They were the outcome of evolutionary changes within technology. The arrival of modern science only began to make its mark from the latter half of the nineteenth century. The Great Exhibition of 1851, and similar ones that followed, glorified industrial progress and the men who made it possible. More significantly, they were also used to measure the relative industrial growth of nations. The accelerating changes brought about by the machines, and the steam engines that powered them were truly revolutionary in the ways they affected the lives and fortunes of the people of Great Britain. Technology became a factor in international affairs and conflicts.

Between 1870 and 1930, the trading port of Singapore changed in ways that Stamford Raffles could never have dreamed possible. The opening of the technological wonder in the form of the Suez Canal in 1869 heralded an exciting era for the trading town whose population of less than 100,000 depended largely on the buying and selling of local and imported goods. The healthy economy had attracted ever-increasing numbers of immigrants during the period 1870 to 1900. The population increased from 97,111 in 1871 to 228,555 in 1901, largely due to a massive arrival of about 110,000 Chinese during this period. The number of Europeans and Americans also showed an increase from 922 (of which 594 were British) in 1871 to 2,861 (of which 1,880 were British) in 1901. Together with other prominent colonial cities like Algiers, Cairo and Delhi, Singapore was developed to serve as an economic and political centre of British rule in this region.

With the arrival of the steamship into the expanding harbour, the people slowly but surely began to enjoy the fruits of Western industrialization which took place thousands of miles away. Ships brought along goods, machinery, equipment and household gadgets of all kinds — and foreigners of different races and with different skills and professions. In the United States and Britain, by the end of the nineteenth century, the process of industrialization led to the rapid transition of pre-industrial rural towns to industrial urbanized cities. In the quest for urban environmental improvements in the modern era, medical doctors prescribed new standards, engineers constructed more effective equipment and civil servants created new public institutions. While American engineers built with anticipation of advances still to come, British engineers and technologists often indulged in what Arnold Pacey termed as “idealistic engineering” — constructing huge monuments to idealize “Progress”, such as in Britain where “engineers working on municipal sewerage and water projects or employed by the Metropolitan Board of Works in London built monumental pumping stations and other structures of extravagantly high quality”. Britain's colonial “estate” like Singapore was gradually transformed, especially from the last quarter of the nineteenth century, by technological systems that stimulated individuals to become more dependent on one another.

Without the aid of technological implements and scientific knowledge, vast areas of the world not have been subjugated by Britain. But technology was not a cause of imperialism. It was a facilitator of imperialism. British engineers proceeded to alter the landscape of the imperialized world with bridges, railways, roads, tunnels, irrigation and sanitation systems, harbours, telegraph lines, submarine cables and electrification of the urban environment. The transformation of Singapore from a fishing village to a modern, bustling commercial city, technologically linked to world markets and protected by an elaborately constructed naval base in the Far East is undoubtedly an impressive achievement of Britain's “civilising mission”. As the port and city grew, modern scientific and technological systems were introduced for the benefits of the Europeans in the first instance and later diffused to the masses at large. Modern communications and transport technology led to large declines in costs of travelling and transportation of goods. The telegraphy and telephone linked the small domestic market in Singapore to the rest of the world and the availability of electrical power after 1940 must be seen as a large net benefit to society and economy after 1940. In the words of David Cannadine, “these technological transformations were intrinsically significant as the agents and avatars of imperial modernity rather than imperial conservatism; they were, in addition, the harbingers of social developments and political changes…” While the Singapore colonial government failed to provide sufficient housing for the masses, it did work hard to improve the overall living standards and material welfare of the people. For the local folks who could afford British products of modern living made possible through the application of science and technology — refrigerators, Holloway's Pills and Ointments, Pears soap, Cow & Gate milk powder, face towels, Singer sewing machines, machine-made sewing needles, perfumery and cosmetics, knitted stockings, glasswares, oil lamps, mechanical clocks, motor car, etc — life was good and comfortable. These “imperial” commodities, which were consumed even at the frontiers of the known world, were a measure of the global reach of the values of Britain's commercial civilization.