Chinese scholarship, in its quest for an explanation of the beginning of Sun Yat-sen's nationalist ideology, San-min chu-i (“The Three Principles of the People”), has yet to grapple with the complexity of his ideological makeup. Unfortunately, scholarship has been inhibited (and will probably continue to suffer, at least in the foreseeable future) a great deal by a certain persistent point of view in both Nationalist and Communist Chinas when it comes to the study of Sun Yat-sen as a whole. This inhibition has stemmed, in the main, from the fact that Sun Yat-sen, the founding father of modern China, has thus far been regarded as someone to worship rather than someone to study with a critical mind.

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.

China's defeat in the Sino-Japanese War of 1894–95 not only revealed to the world the weakness of the Celestial Empire, but also raised a number of critical problems for the Imperial government, none more complicated than that of protecting foreign missionaries. The missionary problem had already become a diplomatic headache in the latter part of the nineteenth century, after the Treaty Powers had forced the Chinese government to recognize the right of Christian missionaries to establish missions far in the interior of China where they were exposed to attacks by hostile Chinese. As greater numbers of missionaries penetrated the interior, antimissionary outrages occurred with disturbing and increasing frequency, bringing forth bitter complaints from the foreign community in China about the inability of the Powers to force the Imperial government to provide protection. The customary demand of the Powers when outrages occurred had been for protection of their nationals, reparations for lives lost and property destroyed, and punishment of provincial officials who had been unable or unwilling to prevent outrages. Frequently there had been a resort to “gunboat diplomacy,” when the Powers rushed naval vessels to cities where riots threatened or occurred to protect foreigners and overawe local officials.

Nonalignment today is a protean international phenomenon, accommodating a host of national impulses and identities. This paper, however, is chiefly concerned with this phenomenon as it was nurtured on Indian soil: it seeks to interpret India's nonalignment by probing its rationale as a security policy during the Nehru years.

The pages that follow attempt to answer two questions: (1) why was it that the issue of India's security evoked a particular type of response which came to be identified as nonalignment; and (2) what were the peculiar characteristics of this identity?

The problem of the relation of the individual to society and to the state was central to Gandhi's political thought and action. It has been said that Gandhi's “deliberate onslaught on the creed of individualism as it has been in operation during the last two or three centuries gave it a mortal blow.” How are statements like this to be reconciled with the fact that Gandhi appealed to individual conviction in his campaigns?

In analyzing this problem we should look at the main concepts of social and political philosophy which had an impact on Gandhi's life and thought. Indian philosophy is of special importance in this context and therefore a major part of this paper is devoted to the discussion of Indian concepts and ideas as they were understood and interpreted by Gandhi. Much of Gandhi's thought and action can be explained only in terms of the historical situation and the social setting of his day and age. But Gandhi's campaigns and his contribution to the Indian freedom movement have been described by many authors and therefore no attempt is made in this paper to outline the course of events.

Kuga Katsunan, regarded by his contemporaries as one of the three leading publicists of the eighteen nineties, was something of a hero to many young intellectuals who were attracted by his synthesis of liberalism and nationalism in the concept known as kokumin. This effort to construct a theoretical justification for fusing the two predominant forces of modern Japan in a union in which the individual and the state would be balanced in a condition of interdependence was Katsunan's contribution to Japan's early liberal tradition. Rejecting for himself the label “liberal” in its orthodox sense of advocacy of doctrinaire individualism, Kuga was no more willing to regard himself as a “nationalist” unless that term were so defined as to include a positive affirmation of the value of the individual. He sought to develop instead a theory within which liberalism and nationalism could coexist in almost perfect balance.

The upheavals of 1857 in India left a heightened conviction among the British rulers of what many had long believed, that the loyalty of their subjects could never be relied upon. Even after 1857 the British fear of sedition was stimulated at irregular intervals by such events as the Wahhabi trials of the eighteen sixties and the Kuka uprisings of 1869–72. British responses to nationalist challenges for decades to come were conditioned by the resulting insecurity, and nowhere was this more dramatically reinforced than in Bombay Presidency in the late eighteen seventies.

British rule in Maharashtra had been erected on the ruins of the Maratha confederation. The legacy of independent Hindu rule lived on after 1818, although civil disturbances in following years sometimes bore little relation to the change of rulers. Spasmodically from 1818 to 1857 a series of minor revolts broke out in the countryside and towns, all of which fell into traditional patterns. All were strictly local in scope, whether mutinies of sepoys against English officers or tribal and low-caste riots against village moneylenders.

Periodic gatherings of Orientalists are fully meaningful only when they serve as forums for the discussion of important developments in the major fields of their professional concern: Oriental languages, literature and ideas, history and institutions. Having worked for decades in the latter fields with China as a starting point and the comparison of institutions as a central target, I would like to discuss here some of the problems connected with the power structure that Montesquieu, the men of the Enlightenment, and Marx and Engels called “Oriental despotism.”

For a variety of reasons, there has been a growing interest in the institutional conditions of the “Orient.” Hence any significant change in the interpretation of these conditions is bound to affect a growing number of Orientalists—and of social scientists who, although not Orientalists, deal with Oriental institutions.