This Forum focuses on the many and diverse smaller polities in a region spanning lands from Bengal and Assam in the west to Yunnan in the east, and from the eastern Himalayas in the north to Thailand in the south. From the mid-nineteenth to the mid-twentieth centuries, these polities underwent dramatic transformations when they faced the impact of Chinese and European encroachments. The ambition of this Forum is to reconnect academic research across the region. Even though this may be a new field of study for contemporary scholars, it is one that the smaller polities actively shaped long before the imperial onslaught. It is diverse, yet tied together by a multitude of interconnections, mobility, and integration through kinship, exchange, shared experiences, and warfare. Scholars of this region, who still work mostly from separate area-studies perspectives, face a challenge. The task ahead is to reconnect their conversations.

Xinjiang’s location naturally makes it a focal point of the Silk Road (hereafter SR). But considering that for the first 60 years (circa 1920–1980) of Chinese archaeology—that is, over half of its development—the SR was rarely mentioned in scientific literature, the impact it has had on archaeological studies of Xinjiang remains unclear and poorly understood. With the eponymous Belt and Road Initiative (hereafter BRI) now a decade old and the field of Xinjiang archaeology approaching its centennial, this has become a critical subject of enquiry.

In this article, I recount the history of publication and discourse in Xinjiang, followed by a discussion of recent developments in archaeological practice instigated by the BRI. I contend that consistently using the SR to conceptualize the material record of Xinjiang, a prevalent approach in Eurasian scholarship, is based on flawed and unscientific presuppositions. Even in Chinese discourse today, the SR concept has become secondary to the state objective of building scientific and cultural infrastructure that is Chinese in method and approach, the goal of which is to amplify ‘discourse power’. Although the SR has served as a major banner for unifying studies on cross-cultural contact in Eurasian history, it is laden with complex layers of archaeological history intertwined with a century-old chauvinistic geopolitics that still reverberate globally today. As the scientific role of the SR becomes increasingly muddled, research referencing the SR must navigate the term’s biased presentist connotations to unveil the pertinent historical contexts, or consider alternative frameworks that resist totalizing narratives.

In the middle of the nineteenth century in cities and towns across North India a popular craze for the sitar drove untold numbers of amateur enthusiasts to seek instruction in Hindustani raga music from the only available source: the Muslim hereditary professional performers known as ustads. A long record of statements excoriating the ustads has generally been dismissed by contemporary scholars as colonially inspired propaganda that served a Hindu identitarian vision of music reform and institution-building for the incipient nation. This article accesses a collection of Urdu-language music instruction texts produced between 1863 and 1915 to offer a contrasting interpretation: the depiction of ustads as ignorant, ill-mannered, and addicted is propounded first and foremost by Muslim authors unconcerned with nationalism, but invested in opening the Hindustani music tradition to the uninitiated amateur. Close readings of narrative anecdotes from these texts alongside the 1910 and 1914 Marathi-language works of famed scholar and music reformer Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande (1860–1936) reveal a continuity of concerns across language, region, and religious community. Bhatkhande and the earlier Urdu authors share not only their frustration with the half-trained and ill-behaved ‘fly-by-night’ ustad, but also their reverence for the masterful ustads whose reputations were threatened by the unchecked presence of charlatans in their midst.

This article considers a long-term stand-off between two forms of governance. Until the very end of British rule in India and Burma, a cluster of small polities effectively held imperialism at bay. Despite being surrounded, they remained independent and self-governing (in British parlance: ‘unadministered’) up until the eve of the Second World War. They have so far been overlooked in the historiography, and yet these rugged hills provide a unique vantage point from which to consider the limits of empire in the India-Burma borderlands. The martial Zo (‘Shendu’) inhabitants and their guerrilla tactics matched British aggression and bred anxiety in border officials. The British remained largely ignorant about this region. Under the restrictions of an imperial non-intervention policy, they could not enter it. This policy was inspired by the calculation that conquering these inaccessible mountains might cost more than it would yield in head tax and forest products. The result was a geopolitical rarity: an obstinate island of indigenous governance, cultural continuity, and micro-warfare enclosed by imperial territories.

This article investigates marriage as a site for the historical study of time. Focusing on Hindu marriage in South Asia between the seventeenth and nineteenth centuries, the article studies (a) how the moment of a marriage is made and documented through what the article calls ‘temporal practices’, and (b) how, once this moment is made and documented, it is put to use in and for a marriage ceremony. The article has three sections. In the first section, it discusses the device used to measure the time of the marriage ceremony: the water clock. This section also addresses how the water clock was used, and who used it, within the marriage ceremony; and registers a shift in the nineteenth century from the water clock to the mechanical clock. In the second section, the article discusses documentary practices that record the moment of a marriage and addresses historical changes related to these practices in the nineteenth century. In the third section, the article examines the work that the moment of a marriage does once it has been brought into being and documented. This section argues that the moment of a marriage frames and makes efficacious a certain action through which the bride and groom are transformed. The article concludes by arguing that the moment of a marriage temporally regulates the activities of the marriage ceremony and explores how this moment reconfigures relations to the past and future for the bride and groom.

This article examines how the British colonial administration and the local Chinese population interacted around the issue of obscene prints in 1900s–1930s Singapore, with a particular focus on the policing of the female nude. The notion of obscenity acquired different meanings as prints crossed geographical, cultural, and linguistic boundaries. What was deemed ‘obscene’ in Republican Shanghai or Edwardian London was not necessarily viewed the same way in colonial Singapore, and vice versa. By tracing the contradictory assumptions about the relationship between nudity and obscenity in a multiracial and multicultural colonial context, this article demonstrates that obscenity regulation in Singapore was intimately tied to what Partha Chatterjee has termed ‘the rule of colonial difference’,1 with race being the most obvious marker of difference. On an institutional level, the rule of colonial difference led to a division of regulatory labour that ultimately rendered Chinese salacious materials invisible to the British colonial government in the early twentieth century. In terms of definitions of nudity and obscenity, perceived racial–cultural differences—central to the rule of colonial difference—were used both to justify and to contest the public display of naked female bodies to non-Western audiences. This situates the Singapore case within the broader scholarship on obscenity regulation and colonialism, and offers fresh insights into the difference in imperial models of obscenity regulation. By exploring how obscenity regulation was premised on the process of racial ‘othering’, this article also highlights race as an underexplored factor in existing scholarship on obscenity regulation.

This article focuses on the British annexation of the Dai territories in the border zone of Qing China and Burma in the late nineteenth century. It investigates the coercive force used by the British to secure control of the territory and its people, which was asserted on the basis of having had tributary relations with the earlier kingdom of Burma. In this case, I argue that the use of violence as a means to an end is better understood when separated into the mutually reinforcing forms of armed and bureaucratic violence. In these two forms, violent force shaped a practice—a mode of operation—that facilitated and secured British governance in the large territories separating the Chinese Qing state from British Burma. The article is part of a larger investigation that connects British operations on the empire’s much-varied northeastern frontier from the Brahmaputra eastwards into Yunnan, in two periods of its expansion in the early and late nineteenth century.

Recent discussions among historians, jurists, and political scientists have increasingly centred on the effectiveness of the Laws of Armed Conflict in safeguarding legally protected groups such as civilians and prisoners of war. Central to this debate is the question of how a state’s public commitment to international law aligns with the actual conduct of its armed forces in combat zones. This article contributes to the discourse by examining the Boxer War in China (1900–1901), during which seven Western powers and Japan opposed an anti-foreign Chinese sect supported by military forces loyal to the Qing court. The analysis focuses on the legal stance of five key members of the anti-Boxer coalition—Germany, the United States, Great Britain, Russia, and Japan—and evaluates the conduct of their troops towards Chinese civilians and prisoners. Particular attention is given to Japan, offering insights into how the application of the international laws of war is shaped not only by the expectations of belligerents and their adversaries, as prominent scholars have suggested, but also by the dynamics among allies, including competition, as well as by each belligerent’s unique history and cultural context. This nuanced perspective highlights the interplay of legal commitments, alliance politics, and national identity in determining the behaviour of military forces during wartime.

This article approaches the 1886 British annexation of the Shan States in Burma from the perspective of small polities responding to British rule and border demarcation by European powers, the Qing empire, and Siam, a regional power centred at Bangkok. It investigates how Shan/Tai polities responded to changing allegiance from the Burman to the British Crown through the case of the Kengtung (Chiang Tung) polity. Britain’s demarcation of borderlines compelled polities originally feudatory to Kengtung to switch allegiance to the Siamese and the French. This response sprang from the traditional Shan/Tai tactic of strategic fluidity rather than actions founded in a clear understanding of the implications of fixed borders. Civil war in the Shan States lying west of the Salween River from the early 1870s uprooted large numbers of Shan people. The Kengtung ruler mobilized them as manpower to consolidate his polity and opened new land in the Mae Sai and Mekok river areas on the Chiang Saen plain, a frontier zone between Kengtung and the Lan Na polity of Chiang Mai. Kengtung’s frontier shrank due to two processes: first, aggression by Siam-controlled Lan Na, and second, by Britain’s choice of border demarcation points in Chiang Saen. By demonstrating the ability of Shan/Tai polities to manoeuvre through intense imperial rivalry for territory this article seeks to counter the assumption that only powerful empires played important roles in the formation of colonial states.

This article offers an explanation for gendered patterns of work in emerging Chinese cotton spinning mills during the early twentieth century from the perspective of household labour allocation. Female workers were rarely employed in mills in the north of the country, but the Yangtze Delta showed a much higher proportion of female factory labour. Whereas many authors have explained women’s participation from the viewpoint of patriarchal culture, or physiological differences, this article brings to the fore another, largely neglected but important, explanatory factor for differences in labour allocation in modern factories during early industrialization: the development of handicraft textile production in sending regions. In districts where household cotton textile production persisted, fewer women supplied their labour to the urban factories. Landholding size, real wages, and local agricultural-industrial structures contributed to variations in the living strategies of rural households, affecting the deployment of female family members. Our argument is supported by analyses of gender wage ratios and rural–urban income disparities in different parts of China in order to expose the opportunity structures under which households decided to supply their labour to modern textile factories.

This article focuses on a case study of one Japanese prefectural association and its monthly magazine to reassess the importance of prefectural associations (kenjinkai) beyond the diaspora communities in North America on which Anglophone scholarly focus has remained until now. It also returns an overlooked imperial dimension to Japanese language histories of domestic prefectural associations and discourse over the ‘hometown’. Arguing that the expansive ideas of the hometown, created through the networks of prefectural associations and the pages of their publications, gave rise to ideas of borderless empire and frictionless mobility, this article demonstrates how histories of prefectural associations and magazines like Fukuoka kenjin present a new, regional perspective on both empire and the idea of the hometown in pre-war Japan. Associationalism in and beyond Japan’s empire was not unique, and this article puts the history of kenjinkai in conversation with other such regional settler networks around the globe that were happening at the same time. The article then looks at the transwar continuities and ruptures felt by overseas associations in both North America and among former Japanese colonists, before contextualizing the rise of a ‘third wave’ of domestic migration and hometown discourse in the 1960s.

This article examines the intertwined processes between China’s making of anti-slavery laws and the evolution of international legislation against slavery in the early twentieth century. By tracing international interventions into domestic servitude issues in Chinese communities both in China and Southeast Asia, the article analyses how the international legal regime was absorbed into the domestic laws of late Qing and Republican China. Drawing on two threads of scholarly discussion—namely, the histories of humanitarian internationalism and modern China’s legal reform—this article argues that late Qing and Republican jurists intentionally maintained an ambiguous definition of domestic servitude. This ambiguity served to affirm the humanitarian governance of the modern state while simultaneously preserving social customs, in defiance of international law.

What is the relationship between Chinese migrants and China? Can modern Chinese migration be compared to colonization? This article examines how Chinese intellectuals in the first half of the twentieth century grappled with these questions through their writings in Dongfang zazhi (东方杂志, 1904–1948) and Nanyang yanjiu (南洋研究, 1928–1944). It shows that although these intellectuals acknowledged the territorial dimensions of Chinese migration—particularly in Southeast Asia—they defined colonization through the European model and stressed the fundamental differences between Chinese migration and Western or Japanese colonialism. Their perspectives also evolved over time, from initially advocating colonization and racial vitality in the early twentieth century, to proclaiming a different path after the Republican Revolution in 1911, and later to reimagining post-Second World War Chinese migration as not just a nationalist project but also a movement of decolonization and localization. The article highlights the case of Li Changfu, a pioneering scholar whose writings epitomized these evolving perspectives and illustrated the efforts among Chinese intellectuals to move beyond both the Western colonial framework and the China-centred national model in formulating a world-historical approach. Yet their attempts also revealed enduring tensions, including the tendency to essentialize Chinese identity even as they sought to break from colonial and national paradigms and construct new narratives. Their engagement with the ‘colonial question’ offers fresh insight into contemporary historiographical debates over the role of colonialism and empire-buiding in Chinese history.

Historians of the Indian Partition focus on the permit systems the governments of India and Pakistan put in place to stem refugee entry and prevent the return of evacuees. However, the prevention of exit became, alongside non-entrée and the prevention of return, part of an official strategy of immobility in South Asia directed at marginalized castes. At Partition, Pakistan saw the labour of ‘non-Muslim’ marginalized castes as essential to its national wealth. It believed it had to retain them at all costs. On the other side of the border, the article discusses the Indian government’s laggardly, and often indifferent, response to the struggles of caste-oppressed groups trying to migrate to India. The article builds on scholarship on mobility capital and partial citizenship in the aftermath of Partition to argue that with the prevention of exit, citizenship incorporated an imposed nationalization that embodied the status of marginalized castes as more than a minority and produced a form of bonded citizenship.

China’s gun-free society is maintained through a paradox—while the state’s disciplinary apparatus unmakes any exceptions to the norm by continuously disarming the wayward, it simultaneously perpetuates exaggerated narratives of threats posed by clandestine gun makers in the ethnic frontier regions. This article investigates the state’s construction of Hualong, in Northwest China’s Qinghai, as ‘the capital of China’s ghost guns’. By debunking the quasi-historical claim that Hualong was a major firearms manufacturing hub in the early twentieth century, the article reveals how the modern Chinese state uses this narrative to reinforce an ethnopolitical reset—placing the Han in exclusive control of both firearms’ regulation and the sovereign right to punish violators. Drawing on multiple archival sources, the article argues that monoethnic control of arms was a central tenet of twentieth-century ethnic nationalism. Furthermore, this article demonstrates that early twentieth-century Qinghai was adept in taking advantage of the mobility and fluidity of arms afforded by a trans-imperial infrastructure in its state-making enterprise. That infrastructure included Western missionary networks, treaty ports and foreign concessions inherited from the late Qing, a revitalized maritime hajj route, Japanese imperialism, as well as an expansionist Chinese nationalism struggling to find a foothold in the former empire’s legacy frontiers.

The 1920s to 1950s was a period of significant transformation and conflict in South and East Asia, marked by the forces of (anti-)imperialism, nationalism, and militarism, eventually escalating into the Second Sino-Japanese War and the Second World War. For a long time, internationalist initiatives hoped that de-escalation and peace could be achieved through diplomacy and exchange. Part of this approach included Asian Christians moving in the milieu of Protestant internationalism, a movement long dominated by American organizations and actors, which after the First World War saw a shift towards Asia—both in terms of representation from and interest in the region.

Between the 1920s and the 1950s, numerous international conferences, organized by missionary associations and organizations such as the World Student Christian Federation or the international Young Men’s Christian Association, debated the political future of Asia in a changing and increasingly belligerent world. The period also witnessed numerous exchanges of Christian delegations between individual countries. By analysing the interrelated histories of three Asian Protestant internationalists—T. Z. Koo of China, Kagawa Toyohiko of Japan, and Augustine Ralla Ram of India—the article offers an examination of the mechanics of Christian diplomacy before, during, and after war. It shows that Protestant internationalist diplomacy, fellowship, and solidarity were often overshadowed by national and political ideologies. However, the article further argues that, despite its shortcomings, which challenged transnational solidarity and fellowship, Christian diplomacy was characterized by a resilience and reach that allowed its Asian protagonists a remarkable international operating space by providing useful networks, opportunities, and resources.

This article examines how Imperial Japanese military doctors—both Army and Navy medical specialists—employed blood-type analysis in military medicine, from the first military medical publication of blood-type research in 1926 to the end of the Asia-Pacific War in 1945. It explores the military physicians’ quest to investigate the relevance of blood-group knowledge and their attempt to integrate ideas derived from Furukawa Takeji’s Blood Type–Temperament Correlation Theory—the idea that blood type is linked to personality traits—into the operations of the armed forces, a process I term ‘sero-rationalization’. By the mid-1930s, however, escalating conflicts prompted a shift in research priorities. Military physicians increasingly focused on serology and the technological advancements required for blood transfusions, moving away from earlier biopsychological discussions of blood types. This shift reflected an urgent need to address wartime medical challenges, including treating injuries and developing reliable transfusion methods. With the intensification of war by the 1940s, frontline physicians began exploring alternatives to traditional blood typing, such as cross-type transfusions and even animal-to-human transfusions. In their attempts to circumvent the ABO blood-group system in dealing with wartime medical emergencies, military physicians departed significantly from their initial emphasis on serological differentiation. Ironically, the pursuit of sero-rationalization—intended to optimize military efficiency—ultimately proved counterproductive.

Why has political representation by Scheduled Castes in post-colonial India failed to improve the lives of the vast majority of this population? One common answer rests on the assumption that caste inequality is upheld by dominant social groups who effectively resist progressive state policy. Others point to the institution of joint electorates: though constituencies are reserved for Scheduled Caste legislators, Scheduled Caste voters form a minority within them; the representatives thus elected are chosen primarily by others, and precisely because they will not challenge the status quo, it is said. But neither of these explanations, I argue, can adequately account for the minimal effects of Scheduled Caste representation, because both imagine states as confronting a distinct realm—‘society’—with pregiven interest groups that are then represented in legislatures. Instead, an examination of how state actions themselves govern, produce, and reproduce caste groups and intercaste relations is required. The argument is illustrated through episodes from the career of Dr Sathiavani Muthu, who sought to address injustices suffered by Scheduled Castes in Tamil Nadu from the late 1950s through to the 1980s. Muthu’s skill, diligence, and commitment make her an ideal representative, and Tamil Nadu as a state ought to provide a best-case scenario for the success of such an actor, given the scholarly consensus regarding its good governance and the pervasion of its society with a progressive ideology. An analysis of why her efforts nevertheless produced little fruit reveals pervasive deficiencies in current models of political representation.

In recent years, the Japanese public has hailed a new national hero, the late Lieutenant General Higuchi Kiichirō. Unlike other notable military figures of his era, Higuchi’s heroism is unconventional, if not unique. Despite playing a leading role in the defence of Hokkaido against the Soviet Red Army in 1945, it is humanitarian efforts that have cemented Higuchi’s lasting legacy in public memory. Presently, a plethora of publications, TV documentaries, a museum, and monuments praise his actions during the ‘Otpor Incident’, in which he is said to have saved up to 20,000 Jewish refugees stranded in the winter of 1938 along the Soviet-Manchukuo border. This article questions the authenticity of Higuchi’s acclaimed rescue efforts, highlighting discrepancies that cast doubt on the entire narrative. It suggests the possibility of the ‘Otpor Incident’ being a complete fabrication or, at best, an extremely exaggerated account of a minor event, aimed at enhancing post-war personal and national reputations. Critically, this piece contends that Higuchi’s current recognition is part of a strategic move by nationalist groups in Japan to use Holocaust narratives to divert attention from Japan’s history of wartime aggression and colonialism. To substantiate this view, this article assesses the evidence of Higuchi’s involvement in the supposed rescue, examines the narrative’s post-war evolution, and analyses the motives for its initial dissemination and recent surge in popularity.