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THE POLITICAL SCIENTIST WHOSE MAIN INTEREST LIES IN ASIA OR Africa has to avoid impaling himself upon the twin horns of an analytical dilemma. If he seeks to place his subject within the general framework of political theory he finds that it is difficult to avoid accepting Asian politics as a sub-species of Western politics. But if he insists upon the uniqueness of his own subject then he can expect to achieve an explanation of a ‘rose is a rose is a rose’ variety. Almond and Coleman in The Politics of the Developing Areas (Princeton, 1960) set us off in pursuit of ‘political development’ and ‘modernization’. Many of us rejected a view of politics as a continuum in which the Asian world was presented as entering the mainstream of political development insofar as its members were assimilating to the model of ‘competitive politics’ – which, on closer examination, turned out to be the Anglo-American model – though Almond and Coleman did not go quite so far as to insist that the goal, the promised land of political development, was a two-party system.
The major European colonial powers were Britain, the Netherlands, Portugal, France and Spain, but Britain was to prove the most successful by far in using the export of population to establish its imperial hegemony. As Tinker notes, this was far from accidental, as popular myth held. Emigration to the settler countries was systematically planned as a solution to social problems at home and a means of expanding English (then British) interests abroad. This notion was first advanced in a state paper delivered to James I by Bacon in 1606. He suggested that by emigration England would gain, ‘a double commodity, in the avoidance of people here, and in making use of them there’ (cited Williams 1964: 10). The poor rates and overpopulation would be relieved and idlers, vagrants and criminals would be put to good use elsewhere.
Once established, the principle was extended laterally. Scottish crofters, troublesome Irish peasants, dissident soldiers (like the Levellers), convicts, victims of the Great Fire of London – all were shipped out to the colonies of settlement. Indigent and orphaned children also met the same fate. Under various child migration schemes, the first batch was sent to Richmond, Virginia, in 1617, while the last group left for Canada as late as 1967. The scale of these schemes can be indicated by noting that 11 per cent of Canada's population is derived from destitute British children (Bean and Melville 1989). The numbers from all sources (free and induced) were greater than in the case of any other European power, but just as significant was the intent of the emigration.
On 3 May 1945, British—Indian forces landed in Rangoon. The Japanese had pulled out. The city was liberated. On 16 June there was a victory parade, though the final victory over Japan was still distant and most of their conquests were intact. Admiral Mountbatten, Supreme Allied Commander, took the salute while detachments representing the one million men under his command passed by in massed array. Famous regiments from Britain, India and Nepal; the Royal Navy; the Royal Air Force; men from the United States Air Force. It was an impressive sight, though the ceremony took place in pouring rain. Amongst them all was a somewhat ragged band representing the Burma National Army which, having been raised by the Japanese, had fought for three months alongside the British. Watching the parade from the central dais was a young man dressed in the uniform of a Japanese Major-General, though he also wore an arm-band with a conspicuous red star. The outfit was incongruously crowned by a pith sun-helmet—a topi. Probably most foreigners present assumed he was a Chinese officer. He was actually Bogyoke Aung San, commander of the BNA.
There is a good deal that is tantalizing and rather sad about the life and work of G. H. Luce who has a claim to be considered the most distinguished British scholar to explore Burma's past, with only Sir Arthur Phayre as his peer. Both were pioneers. Both explored Burma's history with deep sympathy and insight. Phayre left as his monument a complete history from the earliest times to the British occupation. In certain respects, for example in his scheme of periodization, this remains the model for his successors. Luce produced a corpus of specialized studies which greatly extended knowledge of the sources of Burma's early medieval history and the details of its infrastructure - far beyond the range of Phayre's researches. Yet he did not nurture his work to full fruition.