With the advent of the gramophone and the telephone toward the end of the last century, it finally became possible for the human voice to endure through time and to travel across long distances, circulating in ways hitherto reserved only for ghostly and other supernatural communications. In the Dutch East Indies (DEI), the first steps in this transformation took place at the height of the colonial modern period, which was also the period during which various nationalisms were starting to take shape. Like the printing press before them, these mass media provided new networks through which discourses moved, and provided new objects for reflection on life in the DEI at that time.

This chapter examines the genealogy of telephony in the DEI. This genealogy, I argue, has many different strands. Some of these strands are paths that come to an abrupt end, some of them are paths that continue on as “minor” histories, and others that continue on only as fantasies of what might had been had socio-political forces and technical developments converged and been articulated differently. The account I provide is not exhaustive but is meant to show that even the history of a technology like the telephone — an artefact whose meaning seems obvious and closed — can be read in quite different ways. Indeed, there is no reason that telephony need always be understood as an agent of modernization, globalization, capitalism and the like. Under particular conditions, for example, telephony has been used to constitute local rather than national or global identities — and this despite the fact that the major history of telephony seems to tend towards political and economic centralization, flexible forms of capital accumulation and a celebration of national or global communities.

Arguing that Indonesian telephony has minor histories challenges the notion that the modernity (and the international capitalism it was connected with) that arrived in the archipelago around the turn of the century was a singular modernity.

We cannot view the role of the state as either static or in isolation. It is always:

1. • dynamic;

2. • relative and changing vis-à-vis civil society and the market;

3. • relative and changing vis-à-vis regional and global institutions, especially in the current context of accelerating economic regionalization and globalization. For example, the Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation (APEC) forum member governments stress the economic rather than the sovereign “national state” nature of their grouping. Other instances of the growing power of global multilateral institutions are: the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund (IMF), and the World Trade Organization (WTO); and the fact that approximately fifty of the world's largest 100 economies are now transnational corporations (TNCs), not nation-states.

It should be evident that the “state” needs to be viewed as having an identity that is separate and different from a particular government or political party in power. Relationships with particular governments will and should vary (on a continuum ranging from collaboration to confrontation) depending on what type of government is in power at a particular time period in history and what ideological interests that government may represent.

In this context, it should be noted that this chapter is not merely concerned with the performance of different countries and governments in Southeast Asia over the past few decades, but with the equally — if not more — important issue of what the appropriate roles and responsibilities of the state ideally should be in the development process in any society. Indeed, the major purpose of this chapter is to make an assessment of how different types of governments and states in Southeast Asia have performed if they are measured against the roles and responsibilities identified as the core ones that they should be exercising in the development process.

It is important to revisit these issues partly because the Southeast Asian–led global economic and financial crisis resulted in an active debate and controversy about the wisdom of continuing to pursue current patterns of globalization and raised important questions about what the appropriate role of the state and governments in the region should be in its aftermath.

Recent studies on the political economy of the Asia-Pacific countries have focused on the role of the state in fostering rapid economic growth. In the wake of the stunning success of the newly industrializing countries (NICs), picturesquely acclaimed as the Dragon and Tiger economies, this refocusing of research was almost predictable.

Notwithstanding the diversity of political arrangements and the resulting mixed patterns of state engagement in the economy, the regional landscape appeared to confirm that growth required a strong or “hard” state, capable of pursuing objectives unhampered by powerful social classes and specific economic interests (Searle 1999, p. 241). In the successful models in East and Southeast Asia, this strength derived from the dominant control exerted through the military establishment or through a one-party political system. Strong states received credit not only for containing the destabilizing forces released in the process of decolonization, but also for coping with the challenge of transnational competitors in the global trading arena.

The extent to which the invisible hand, subtly guiding private interests towards the collective good under a liberal market system, needed a boost from the more muscular arm of government is a matter of some dispute. But whether the achievement was the adoption of correct policies that liberated benign market forces or the crafting of strategies to achieve national economic goals, a robust state apparatus appeared necessary. Effective macroeconomic management to attract investments, the conscientious nurturing of the educational system to provide skilled manpower, the reorientation of policy to favour exports — all required skilled, coherent, and sustained government direction.

The discussion of the role of the state in embedding capitalism does not often include the Philippines. Other countries in the region offer more directly pertinent examples of how states intervene to create the conditions for capitalist economic development. Since the stimulus for the interest was the outbreak of the Asian economic “miracle”, the omission of the Philippines was understandable.

It has become less easy to understand economic development as a process in which “traditional” societies become modernized and rationalized as a unilinear transformational process of the world. This process, it is often thought, started from seventeenth-century Europe and went on to post–Second World War United States. The result of this process was that the cultures of all newcomers were increasingly made “the same”, or culturally homogenized.

The Japanese experience, important as the major and the first industrialized Asian society, has not been completely assimilable into this process of homogenization in terms of its values or social structures. The “unique Japan” hypothesis came about, in which Japanese tradition, instead of being seen as a retrograde element, was trumpeted as a vessel suited for economic development (McCormack and Sugimoto 1988).

The economic rise of other East Asian societies (including Singapore), and the newer Asian Tigers of Southeast Asia (Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia) led to variants of the “unique Japan” hypothesis. One variant, of course, was the much-debated Confucianist model. The values of an underlying common culture, it was argued, fostered the virtues of austerity, harmony and group orientation, hard work, and a submissive attitude towards authority, contributing to rapid growth. The entry of obviously non-Confucian societies then led to further modifications. Now, it was argued, you could see a generalized (pan-)Asian values system — representing, some claimed, an Asian modernity for a New Asia — that had contributed to economic growth.

The detractors saw such arguments as ideological tools used to justify authoritarian politics, and the 1997 Asian economic crisis only heightened the controversy surrounding the “Asian values” discourse. While ideological dimensions incontestably exist, it is of significance that “culture” — conceived of here as a society's value systems and local traditions notionally separable from political rhetoric — has become a part of the discussion as to what is entailed in rapid economic development, and of understanding the success and also some of the difficulties of the new Asian capitalisms.

The question of the relationship between religion and other phenomena that come within its conceptual and semantic field, such as values, on the one hand, and modern economic development, on the other, have occupied the minds of scholars since the last century. While the issue was first dealt with theoretically and sociologically by Ibn Khaldun in the fourteenth century AD, it was taken up again in systematic fashion by European classical social theorists in the nineteenth century. By the turn of the twentieth century, North American, Japanese, and Indian sociologists, economists, and political scientists began to write about the work ethic and other cultural or non-economic factors of development. Since the Second World War many others have joined in the debate. The purpose of this chapter is to discuss a number of fundamental problems that underlie the media and academic discourse surrounding the question of religion and development in East Asia that have to do with problematic Orientalist constructions.

Owing to the vastness of the field, however, there is the problem of delineating my area of concern for this chapter. The field is vast, covering various world religions, numerous disciplines in the social sciences, and a multitude of topics such as industrialization, economic growth, education, and business firms. In addition, one has also to consider the budget of concepts that are related to religion such as ideology, culture, values, and the work ethic. Even if one chooses to focus on a region such as Southeast Asia, one is not left with a more manageable task.

What I propose, therefore, is to define my interest in the relationship between religion and economic development by way of limiting it with reference to a related concern, that of “Asian values”. In what follows, I take the Asian values debate as my entry point into the topic of the religious work ethic and its relationship with capitalist modernization in Southeast Asia.

The mid-1980s in Thailand saw the establishment of an export-oriented industrialization (EOI) policy in place of import-substitution industrialization (ISI). The sharp decline in agricultural commodity prices had contributed to a downturn in the economy — but the silver lining here was that Thai manufactures became more attractive on the world market (Hewison 1997). Since then, in policy and production terms, EOI has grown and strengthened, and the economic results amazing; it remains to be seen whether the 1997 Asian economic crisis is but a blip in the way Thailand has chosen to develop or whether it heralds possible new economic directions.

Either way, I begin with the 1980's growth as it is the important context that has significantly contributed towards the phenomenon of new wealth in Thailand in the past two decades. This new wealth has been accompanied by novel forms of consumption among the more affluent members of society. This ill-defined group — which cannot be divorced from the state's economic development and related economic growth — is represented by a range of social classification: the “middle class”, the “new rich”, the “white-collar” worker, the “salaried class”, and so on. While, as some scholars note, it is analytically dubious to speak of a single middle class or middle-class culture, there appears to be a broad agreement that one dominant image of the new middle class is that of an avaricious consumer whose lifestyle is defined by the consumption of modern high-technology goods such as cars, mobile phones, residences in new housing estates, and the purchase of sumptuous goods from department stores. At the same time it is not uncommon for the newly affluent to be characterized as “superficially Western” and “fundamentally Oriental” (Pinches 1999, p. 1).

This chapter will explore one aspect of middle-class Thai consumption: the adoption of traditional dance as a recreational activity for amateur practitioners.

For decades, Anglo-American liberalism has provided the dominant interpretations of the post-1945 history of capitalism in Northeast and Southeast Asia. According to influential Anglo-American perspectives, East Asia is, or at least ought to be, moving in the general direction of a romanticized version of the path taken earlier by North America and Western Europe (especially the United States and Great Britain). And, following the Asian crisis (1997–98), laissez-faire economics and bourgeois democracy continue more than ever to be seen as crucial and inter-connected elements in this idealized and universalized vision of the path to prosperity.

For example, the speech by former U.S. Vice-President Al Gore to the annual meeting of the Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation (APEC) forum, in Kuala Lumpur in November 1998, sought to make a direct connection between liberal economics, democratic politics, and the successful management of the economic crisis then sweeping the region. Gore argued (as had Bill Clinton) that “democracies have done better in coping with economic crises than nations where freedom is suppressed”. He noted further that even in “nations suffering economic crises, we continue to hear calls for democracy and reform in many languages” (cited in Gittings 1998, p. 5).

The wider significance of this speech and the class-bound and culture-bound character of the neo-liberal understanding of the crisis in Asia (and of Asian capitalism more generally) is nicely captured by a well-known quotation from Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels. Over a hundred years ago, these pioneering historians of capitalism argued that the rising bourgeoisie of North America and Western Europe were bringing “civilization” to “even the most barbarian” parts of the world, battering down the “Chinese walls” and compelling “all nations” to embrace the “bourgeois mode of production” in order to create “a world after its own image” (1986, p. 84). The metaphoric and literal strands of this formulation are echoed in the post–Cold War era by the way in which the Chinese state is perceived by U.S. strategic planners as the major “threat” to U.S. hegemony in the Asia-Pacific, at the same time as China is also perceived as the possible inheritor of the mantle of the developmental state exemplified by Japan and South Korea in the Cold War era.

Southeast Asia is a heterogeneous entity. Historians and anthropologists have discerned underlying similarities, ranging from Indian-influenced notions of society and kingship (except for the Sinicized northern Vietnam, and untouched areas of the Philippines), a common animistic underlay to Buddhist, Islamic and Christian religions, traditional occupations based largely on rice farming and fishing, rice-based diets, housing (using stilts), and social relations that, inter alia, give a relatively high status to women. But these similarities pale by contrast with the region's diversities.

When the first tentative moves towards regionalism emerged with the formation of ASEAN in 1967, the five founding members were deeply divided by history, race, language and religion. All except Thailand had been under colonial rule just one or two decades earlier, with separate masters except for British rule of Malaysia and Singapore. Malays in Indonesia and Malaysia were overwhelmingly Muslim, while those in the Philippines were predominantly Christian; Thais were Buddhist; and Chinese Singaporeans Buddhist, Taoist and Christian. Economies were fragile, particularly Indonesia's, where annual per capita income of only US$50 was less than a third that of other ASEAN partners. And Indonesia's population of more than 100 million, was over three times the size of the next largest state, and fifty times as large as Singapore. Political systems included different forms of military rule in Indonesia and Thailand, a U.S.–style presidential system in the Philippines, and Westminster-derived parliamentary systems in Malaysia and Singapore. All, however, were politically unstable, under siege from communist and ethnic opponents. Divisions within and between Southeast Asia countries — which loomed even larger when neighbours in Indochina and Burma (Myanmar) were taken into account — led commentators at the time to describe the region as the Balkans of Asia.

INTRODUCTION

Indonesia is in transition, from authoritarian rule under former President Soeharto to an uncertain future. It is attempting to build a more democratic and economically sustainable state in one of the most heterogeneous and archipelagic countries in the world. With more than 216 million citizens, it bestrides Southeast Asia as a colossus. The region is hostage to its future.

Modern Indonesians view themselves as heirs to some great and refined civilizations. Two of these kingdoms assume pride of place. The first is the Hindu-Buddhist Srivijaya empire, established in Sumatra on the trading route between India and China, which came to exercise a loose suzerainty over parts of Malaya, Borneo and west Java from the 8th century until the 14th century. The second is the later Majapahit empire (1293–1520), based in Java, which extended to Sumatra, the Malay peninsula, Bali and parts of Borneo, though how far it covered eastern Indonesia is the subject of conjecture.

For post-independence Indonesian governments these two empires provide an indigenous rationale for modern state boundaries. This “Hindu-Buddhist past” remains important to many Indonesians, particularly in Java and Bali (the latter remains Hindu), notwithstanding the coming of Islam in the thirteenth century. Both the wording of the Indonesian state motto, and the official ideology of Pancasila, are Sanskrit, not Bahasa Indonesia (or the Indonesian language). Sanskrit names are common in Java (Sukarno and Soeharto to give just two examples), and the language occupies a similar status position as Latin for English or European language speaking peoples.

INTRODUCTION

Thailand is the only state in Southeast Asia to escape colonialism. Many elements of traditional society therefore remain, but civil society has made its presence felt since the dramatic student-led overthrow of a military government in 1973. Subsequent reform has advanced in fits and starts. The 1997 “people's constitution”, passed after the onset of a dramatic economic crisis, is the most ambitious attempt yet to entrench democratic rule.

Popular versions of Thai history trace state origins to the Buddhist kingdom of Sukhothai, established in the mid thirteenth century. Driven out of China in a series of migrations, this is “the story of a conquering race claiming an empty territory as its home”. Under the legendary Ramkhamheng (1279–98), the kingdom expanded to include much of present-day Thailand. Historians no longer accept this account — archaeological findings confirm sophisticated civilisations centuries earlier, Sukhothai's control of areas beyond its immediate neighbourhood in northern Thailand is much in doubt, and present day “Thais” are seen not as a unique race but a mixture of Tai, Mon, Khmer, Chinese, Indian and others. Nonetheless the popular account continues to be taught in schools, and remains influential.

Ayudhya, founded 1351 just to the north of the current capital, Bangkok, soon eclipsed neighbouring states, and became a major player on the Southeast Asian mainland. With an economic base founded on both rice and international trade, Ayudhya exercized at least a loose suzerainty over an area extending beyond present-day borders. It established relations with a range of countries, from China to Europe, sending a diplomatic mission to Europe as early as 1608.

INTRODUCTION

Though often caught in the middle of regional strategic rivalry, Laos remains relatively isolated, and is perhaps Southeast Asia's least understood state. Now, it is moving tentatively onto the world stage, opening its economy and joining the regional mainstream with membership of the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) in 1997.

The origins of a unified Lao state arguably date back to the Buddhist kingdom of Lan Xang Hom Khao (Kingdom of a Million Elephants and the White Parasol), founded in the mid-fourteenth century under Fa Ngum, and initially centred on the town of Luang Prabang. During the early eighteenth century, as a result of a conflict over royal succession, Laos divided into three smaller and independent kingdoms, centred on Vientiane (the capital of Lan Xang after 1560), Luang Prabang, and Champassak. By the nineteenth century, all three kingdoms had become vassals of Siam, and their combined territorial extent comprised large areas of what is now northern Thailand (i.e., the Khorat Plateau and land west of the Mekong River), as had unified Lan Xang before them. By the time the French arrived in the latter part of the nineteenth century, just the kingdoms of Luang Prabang and Champassak were still functioning, after Siam's overthrow and destruction of Vientiane in 1828.

The current territorial extent of landlocked Laos is largely a product of French colonial acquisition and administration. Laos' present borders were defined in 1893 — and slightly extended westward in 1904 and 1907 — by forcible French acquisition, and subsequently recognized by a series of treaties between France and Siam.