A narrative sponsored by Cambodian Prime Minister Hun Sen posits the prime minister as the reincarnation of sixteenth-century king Sdech Kân, a commoner who toppled the king at the time and ascended the throne. Whilst reincarnation narratives have wider Southeast Asian resonances, the reinvention of Sdech Kân is central to the redrawing of boundaries of power between a politically weakened monarchy and the Cambodian People's Party-led government. This article traces the meanings of reincarnating Sdech Kân in the contemporary Cambodian context, and what consequences this has for contemporary bids for political legitimacy.

This article recounts the unusual history of a national idea in late colonial Singapore from the 1930s to the early 1950s before Singapore's attainment of partial self-government in 1955. Using two different concepts, namely ‘colonial nationalism’ and ‘imperial citizenship’, it offers a genealogy of nationalism in Singapore, one that calls into question the applicability of prevailing theories of anti-colonial nationalism to the Singapore-in-Malaya context. Focusing on colonial nationalism, the article provides a historical account of English-mediated official multiculturalism through tracking shifting British colonial priorities, ideologies of governance and challenges to its authority in Singapore. This account is rarely appreciated in Singapore today given official scripting of national history that abets particular amnesias with regards to its multicultural nationhood.

This essay considers the importance of looking at writings for children for historical analysis, particularly in times of war, focusing on magazines published for youth in South Vietnam in the early 1970s. Two magazines, Thiếu Nhi and Thằng Bờm, in particular, are studied in terms of their editorial aims and contents, as well as their young readers' submissions in response to contemporary sociocultural issues raised in these magazines. The lively discussions in these magazines were made possible by the relative freedom of expression in South Vietnam, compared to North Vietnam, which was an important reason for the civil war being fought. Yet this freedom also challenged the fabric of Vietnamese society. The strongest concern of these magazines' initiators, editors and writers was that its readers not lose their sense of being Vietnamese in the face of the great wartime flood of American popular culture that captivated many youth. Anxiety that the younger generation would be Americanised and lose their identity struck at the core of what the war was being fought about: i.e. different versions of being Vietnamese in the modern world. This threat of Americanisation to fundamental Vietnamese values was perceived by some intellectuals in the South as more serious than the threat of communism, because at least the communists were Vietnamese.

Historians may have come late to the study of women and gender in Southeast Asia, but when these three books are placed along a historiographical spectrum one can only be impressed at how far the field has moved in approach and methodology. Exploiting previously untapped sources that emanate from very different sites — a Dutch East India Company courtroom, the women's quarters of a Malay palace, the privacy of a Javanese home — the authors open up new avenues by which to explore the complexity of Southeast Asia's gender history. Though the contexts are very different, the movement through time (Wives, slaves and concubines is set in the late eighteenth century, Victorious wives in the nineteenth, and Realizing the dream in the twentieth) provides an opportunity to gauge shifts in representations of ‘femaleness’, attitudes towards gender roles, and women's responses to change.

This article details the development of Indonesian national art theatre in Makassar, South Sulawesi from the 1950s to the present. It argues that through a commitment to modernity and modern aesthetics strong bonds to the idea of the nation were formed by Makassar theatre workers. Furthermore, in charting the relationship between local Makassar theatre and national trends often pioneered in Jakarta, I argue that beginning in the New Order and continuing to the present, through several formal and stylistic changes, the deployment of local cultural elements in modern Indonesian national theatre has deepened. Yet this development represents both a renewed pride in local identity and a continuing commitment to the national community.