The following two articles were originally contributions to a conference panel on “Malay local history: varieties of Malay experience”. The panel was concerned with the way Malay culture has been “localized” in different situations. The concept of “localization”, as discussed by Professor O. W. Wolters, refers to the process by which an imported culture tends to be “fractured and restated and therefore drained of original significance”.

The kingdom of Lingga-Riau, with its dependencies of Johor and Pahang, traced its line of authority back to the earlier Malay kingdoms of Melaka, Singapore, Bintan and to the ultimate source Bukit Siguntang, Palembang. It was officially ended by the Dutch in 1911 when Sultan Abdul Rahman Muazzam Syah refused to sign a treaty of total submission to the colonial government of the Netherlands East Indies, and was obliged to leave the Riau-Lingga area and live in exile in Singapore until his death in 1930. Although the end of the kingdom was, and still remains, a trauma for those of noble descent in Lingga and Riau, the sultanate had in fact survived longer than most of the other indigenous kingdoms of the Malay-Indonesian world. The trauma of the ending of the kingdom prompted one descendant of the Malay royal line in Lingga to compile in 1930 an account of the Malay kings from Bukit Siguntang to Lingga. It is an account which highlights particular concerns of the author (and presumably of others in his position) about the Melaka-Johor-Lingga Malay royal lines, their relationship with other Malay royal lines and their relationship with their subjects.

A number of recent studies concerned with Malay history and culture reflect heightened scholarly awareness of cultural unity and structural similarities in the area we know as the “Malay world”. There remains, however, much to be learnt about the boundaries of this world and, in particular, what happens to Malay political and cultural forms at meeting points between Malay and other cultures. In some instances such interaction has led to an absorption of Malay cultural identity by those living on the fringes of Malay kingdoms. A feature often associated with the Malay world is the ease with which it seems to have been possible for those of non-Malay background to adopt Malay language and customs and thus to “become Malay”. This paper, however, will describe a frontier situation where Malay culture itself appears to have been adapted to accommodate local circumstances. It is a situation which assists us to answer the question: to what extent is the concept of a “Malay World” helpful to our understanding of Malay societies?

Khaw Sim Bee's premature death in 1913 at the hands of an assasin, allegedly torn by jealousy over Sim Bee's advances towards his wife, marked the end of an era in the family politics of peninsular Siam. Sim Bee was the youngest son of Khaw Soo Cheang (1797–1882), a Hokkien immigrant who rose to the governorship of Ranong and founded the Khaw dynasty in Siam. Through his position as High Commissioner of Monthon Phuket, Sim Bee came to dominate the political and commercial life of the region. The man who King Vajiravudh ranked “as a personal friend who will be sincerely mourned by me as a personal loss” headed a family that was equalled by few others in the kingdom.

On 12 March 1945, three days after Japanese forces had swept the French from power in Indo-China, Cambodia's young king, Norodom Sihanouk, declared his country's independence, noting as he did so that it would now be known in French as “Kampuchea” rather than as “Cambodge”. The proclamation, made on Japanese advice, ushered in a seven–month interregnum between periods of French control.

Over the years much has been written about the so-called attempted Communist coup in Indonesia in 1965. Many of the horrors depicted have concerned Balinese or abangan, nominal Muslims in Central and East Java, but little if anything has been written about the Catholic and Protestant inhabitants of those regions outside Java during the period 1965 and following, and how they coped with Communist activity in their districts. Hitherto there has been little said concerning the Christians' attitude towards the Partai Kommunis Indonesia (PKI) — the Indonesian Communist Party — and few reasons given for some Christians becoming members of this political party. This paper is written to shed a little light on these questions and to analyse the reasons why in more than a few districts of the eastern islands the Communist Party was by no means seen by some Christians as the archetypal enemy of Christianity. This article does not, on the other hand seek to discuss the attempted coup in detail, nor specially reasons for its occurrence or its ultimate failure. Rather it intends to describe how Communism also reacted in the face of Christianity in the islands of Bali, Flores, Sumba and Timor, and how in a few cases, each flavoured, coloured and influenced the other.

I began this paper with a critique of current analyses of development problems, which I suggested were not “sociological” enough. I proposed to illustrate this by analyzing the recent development history of the Riam Kanan valley in South Kalimantan. Following a brief description of the valley, its inhabitants, and the hydroelectric project that has become the dominant factor in its development planning, the two major agroecosystems of the Riam Kanan valley were discussed in some detail: forest-based swidden agriculture, and grassland-based permanent field farming. Each system was found to be the object of both negative perceptions and prescriptive policies on the part of local government. I concluded, however, that there is little or no empirical basis for these perceptions and policies and that this explains the disruption and conflict to which development planning in the valley has led. The underlying problem is that government planners have automatically tended to equate their values with those of development, and the values of development with those of the environment—whereas in fact the values and interest of each of these are quite different. This should be recognized as a major problem in contemporary development, and as one with which the common paradigm of “top-down/bottom-up” cannot and does not deal. When a more sociological approach enables us to distinguish between disguised conflicts of interest and genuine development problems, the latter are found to be far less intractable than imagined. The conflicts of interest may still prove to be intractable, but better that they be seen as such, as inherent constraints on government policy, than as inherent problems of peasant ecology and economy.

There are many elements in analyses of why multinational cooperative organization efforts such as the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) succeed or fail. The outward manifestations of success include increased economic interdependence, larger numbers of economic, political, and security agreements, more frequent consultations among leaders, and more numerous instances of joint action in the international political and security domains. Observers and students of Southeast Asian politics may follow such events in the news media or in scholarly publications by other students.

Malaysia consists of Peninsular Malaysia and the two East Malaysian states of Sabah and Sarawak. Development planning in Peninsular Malaysia began as early as 1950, while the first plan for the whole of the Malaysian federation founded in 1963 was published in 1966. Have the two East Malaysian states been integrated properly into the various Malaysian plans? Or have they, with their somewhat different economic, political and social backgrounds, been treated as a nuisance element and appeared in the plans only as an afterthought? In any case, is the planning experience of Peninsular Malaysia relevant for solving the problems of the much less developed East Malaysian states?