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Part VI

European Empires in Asia

12 THE COLONIAL PERIOD

t midnight, June 30, 1997, at a carefully selected gathering at the brand-new Hong Kong Exhibition Centre, Prince Charles gave a brief speech and the Union Jack was drawn down. The red flag of the Peo-

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ple’s Republic of China was hoisted, Jiang Zemin gave an equally brief speech, and the ceremony was over. Prince Charles, ex-governor Chris Patten, and his wife and daughters boarded the royal yacht and sailed out of Victoria Harbor. The British Empire and the period of European colonialism were truly over. Looking back from the vantage point of the present, it is hard to imagine that colonialism could ever have happened at all.

One of the great mysteries of the colonial era is how a small group of trad- ers, adventurers, soldiers, and missionaries from a handful of small European nations 10,000 miles away could have come to dominate nearly every Asian nation. There is a perception about the beginning of the colonial period that when the first galleons and schooners full of energetic merchants from Europe’s advanced societies appeared in harbors and deltas, they encountered Asian nations economically adrift under sluggish skies, limited by subsistence econo- mies and weak trade only in luxury goods. Having “discovered” the East— places with names like the Spice Islands, Hindoostan, and Cathay—the Euro- pean nations soon transformed them, first with trade, later with direct colonial intervention that, whatever its evils, at least served to provide modern infrastruc- tures for transportation, communication, education, and medicine. In this tell- ing of the story, the initiatives, the dynamism, the innovations, and the perspective are all European. If it could truly be said that colonialism set in place infrastructures that would promote economic growth and competitive advantage in the world system, then the economic dynamos of the present period should be Jakarta, Calcutta, Saigon, and Rangoon. That it is, in fact, Tokyo, Taipei, Seoul, Singapore, Hong Kong, Guangdong, and Shanghai that are the economic strongholds makes even the silver lining of colonialism look implausible.

This final chapter attempts to summarize the nature of the colonial impact on the regions we have been examining. What was the state of trade and inter- national relations prior to the European intervention? Why did the Europeans come at all? Could the British have acquired their empire in a “fit of absent- mindedness,” as they sometimes like to put it, or if not, how and why? Which nations came under external control? Which nations escaped? Why? And finally, how were things left when the last colonial administrators packed their bags and went home to retirements in England, France, and Holland? (The Americans didn’t “go home” to quite the same degree.)

These are far too many questions for the space remaining, and in any case, no definitive answers could be provided, even with space enough and time. For now, in the historical period known as “postcolonialism,” all the old issues are

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in the process of reexamination. Postcolonialism refers, first of all, simply to a historical period on the order of Ming dynasty or the Mughal period. Colonial powers have fallen; something else is now going on. Of course, such historical periodization is the product of intellectual labor; otherwise history is just “one damn thing after another.” A second sense of postcolonialism is the continuing cultural impact of the colonial period. Colonialism left its impact everywhere it went in Asia, in the dominance of alien languages over others now in decline; in radically altered systems of production; in restructured class systems and the disappearance of whole classes; in electoral politics and political cultures honed first in Europe, then in nationalist resistance movements; in tastes for material goods. There is a postcolonial literature; a postcolonial feminism.

The third sense of postcolonialism is the drive to deconstruct its remnants. This is being done politically in the once-colonized nations as they attempt to reconstruct their identities and evaluate how much of the old colonial culture they wish to keep and what to change, if and where they can. This is also being done intellectually, by the scholarly project of deconstructing colonial knowl- edge. Colonialism’s intellectual underpinnings were the Enlightenment’s cer- tainty about progress and the dedication to science to bring it about. Science meant both technological discoveries that fueled the emerging world economic system and also the sciences of cartography, geography, botany, and anthropol- ogy. The Enlightenment was about understanding the world—that is, building knowledge about the world. One of its assumptions was that science can stand free of the social and political order and that “knowledge” and “truth” are independent of context. Enlightenment thinkers gave too little thought to the framework of colonial domination of the world on which the vast new knowl- edge base was built. This search for “truth” and “objective knowledge” could not fail to be colored by the social location of the scientists. Now, in the postco- lonial era, we are heirs to this vast structure of knowledge, which we must examine with caution, especially the parts that theorize human nature and human diversity; that posit a historical direction and a value called progress; and that shapes the global economic order.

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dward Said, a Palestinian professor of English and Comparative Litera- ture at Columbia University, published Orientalism in 1978, a book which radically altered how we view the knowledge of non-Western

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societies that had accumulated over more than two centuries. By “Orient” he did not mean the actual societies of Asia and the Middle East as known to the people who were born into them; he meant instead the “knowledge” compiled in the West about these societies. He argued that “ideas, cultures, and histories cannot seriously be understood or studied without their force, or more pre- cisely their configurations of power, also being studied. . . . The relationship between Occident and Orient is a relationship of power, of domination, of varying degrees of a complex hegemony” (Said 1978:5).

Scholarship about colonized populations, histories written by scholars embedded in colonial regimes that had already removed power from local rul- ers, studies that attempted to airbrush out the violence of colonial acquisition, or to romanticize the colonized “other,” are what Said had in mind. We saw, for instance, in the last chapter that Mead and Bateson never asked questions about the puputan—the self-destruction of Balinese rulers in the face of Dutch aggression—in their effort to study the psychology of Balinese people only 30 years later, and never took the psychological impact of that social destruction into consideration in their theorizing. In India, scholars overemphasized the caste system and the dominance of the Brahmans because they had already “decapitated” the social order by depriving local rulers of actual power.

This chapter begins with two works of art that glorify empire. The first is the chapter opener depicting the Red Dragon departing Woolwich in 1601 as the lead ship in the East India Company’s first trading fleet to the Spice Islands—a romanticized moment in the history of empire.

Orientalism was also a movement in art history that was absorbed with eroticized imaginings of harem life and the beautiful women who lived in them, frequently nude. The second work is part of this movement, an art nou- veau-style map of the British Empire that glorifies and eroticizes the imperial conquests of Britain. It portrays representatives of conquered people all turned to Britannia, the warrior-goddess in the middle, her trident denoting her as goddess of the seas. Semi-nude African and Pacific Island women serve her; an Indian raja on elephant back and a big game hunter pay tribute, while a scrawny Indian laborer in loincloth is doubled over with his load. On the left are Canadian trappers and a Native American in feathered headdress; on the right are voluptuous women from Asian colonies in Malaya and China. At

Chapter opener photo: The first fleet of the East India Company with its lead ship the Red Dragon departing Woolwich in 1601 bound for the Spice Islands.

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lower right, a native Australian brings a kangaroo as two privileged white Aus- tralians look on; at lower left, German and French officers from competing imperial nations look on the spectacle with envy. Over the top angels carry the slogans “Freedom,” “Fraternity,” and “Federation”: the British Empire has united the world in freedom and brotherhood.

The artistic beauty of the map, and the romantic portrayal of empire, cer- tainly attempt to justify imperial conquest. How lovely it all turned out! The actual empress of this enormous empire was an elderly woman (though still much loved Victoria, whose statues are found everywhere throughout the for- mer empire). In little over half a century, all those dominated and exploited peoples would be seeking and gaining their independence, and the postcolonial world we now inhabit would come into existence.

Orientalism as an intellectual project and growing knowledge base began during the early centuries of colonialism. In the case of Britain, it began with the generation of Sir William Jones, sometimes then called “Oriental Jones,” who studied Sanskrit and began the process of trying to understand Indian lan-

Map 12.1 This 1886 map romanticizes the British Empire, showing Britannia as a goddess reposing on a throne-like globe, with romanticized and stereotyped natives from their colonies paying tribute.

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guages and ideas (chapter 2). The process went on throughout the decades and centuries of British, French, and Dutch colonial administration. As they put institutions into place, codified law, established schools and hospitals, and sup- ported some classes and undermined others, they were informed by their own knowledge base, so that all those institutions, so thoroughly embedded into the colonized nations by the end, bear the marks of Orientalist knowledge. Even the heirs of the modern, postcolonial nations of Asia today are shaped by Oriental- ist knowledge. That includes the leadership that led independence movements and were recipients of “handovers” stretching from 1947 (India) to 1997 (Hong Kong) as well as the classes created, then educated, under colonialism. Their cities and governments are modern hybrids left by the imperial world order.

In this chapter we attempt to present a realistic overview of European empire in Asia that is conscious of the critique mounted by Said and the post- colonial scholarship that has attempted to correct the picture presented in an earlier era, while acknowledging that this is an ongoing and unfinished effort.

Trade in the Precolonial Period

It could not have been predicted, in the fourteenth century, that among the several international trade networks then existing, the one up in the far north- western corner of the Eurasian landmass would come to dominate almost the entire world. It was far from the richest one at the time. In the fourteenth cen- tury, there were several major trade networks.

China during Ming dynasty was the central power of a far-flung trade-trib- ute system. The Chinese had developed excellent ocean-going junks, some as long as 180 feet, benefiting from the Chinese invention of the magnetic com- pass (carried by Arab traders to the West), the sextant that could chart courses at sea by fixing on the Big Dipper, watertight compartments, dry docks, paddle wheel ships, and weather forecasting. During the period from 1405 to 1480, China became a maritime power that might have come to dominate the Pacific and Indian oceans as Europeans later did. In 1405 a Muslim eunuch from Yun- nan named Zheng He commanded a fleet of over 300 ships and 20,000 men, which sailed as far as India, Hormuz, and the east coast of Africa. This armada set out not to conquer but to trade. They were especially concerned with the strategic city of Malacca (Malaka) on the strait between Malaysia and Suma- tra, which controlled the waters connecting the Indian and Pacific oceans. But by 1480, bureaucrats at the capital began to worry about the costs of these mar- itime excursions and perhaps worry about the growing wealth and power of merchants in the eastern coastal cities. They turned down new requests for funds, burned records of Zheng He’s accomplishments, and turned inward, leaving the seas to others.

The Strait of Malacca, which was of such interest to China during its brief period as a maritime power, was a second maritime trade center from a very early period. Whoever controlled the strait and nearby islands and peninsula

reaped the benefits of a continuous sea-based trade, the southern trade route of Eurasia. The first to do so was the Srivijayan Empire, a contemporary of the very different, land- and agriculture-based state of Angkor. Srivijaya thrived on a trade that linked the treasures of China—porcelain, silk, lacquers—with India, the Middle East, and ultimately Europe. This trade link was based on a model of international trade very different from the one Europeans were to bring in a later period—the theoretical notion, at least, of “free trade” among “equal” nations, this idea that dominates even today. For Srivijaya to be able to play the middleman role between China, on the one hand, and a host of Indian and Arab traders, on the other, the empire had to submit to the Chinese model of international trade. For China, there could only be exchanges between the Middle Kingdom and its tributary states. There was no question of equal trade between equal nations. No nation was the equal of China, and the emperor was the Son of Heaven; nominally, at least, he claimed to be the emperor of the entire world. The Chinese knew of the existence of nations beyond their con- trol and made no particular assertions about them, but any nation wanting to engage in trade with China had to formally acknowledge China’s suzerainty by arriving with “tribute” and performing the three kneelings and nine prostra- tions before a symbol of the emperor. In return, they were lavished with gifts of greater value than they had brought, plus an imperial letter of patent, a seal of rank, and the Chinese calendar. They then had the legal right to trade and could get on with business. This vassal status may have seemed like a small humiliation for Srivijaya, since it did not involve them in any effort by China to dominate them politically, and it gave them access to the wealth of Chinese goods so desired in the rest of the world.

A third center of trade was a network linking Indian and Arab merchants in the Indian Ocean. Imagine the Indian Ocean as an enormous version of the Mediterranean Sea; small, coast-hugging trading ships could make stops along a vast semicircle from Zanzibar to Arabia to the two coasts of India to Burma to Indonesia. Calicut on the Malabar coast was a rich trade city where mer- chants who worked these waters exchanged gold, jewels, ivory, silk, and spices.

In the early 1500s when the first Portuguese ships began going directly to the Spice Islands, they described encountering enormous ships plying Southeast Asian waters, larger than their own largest ships. All were over 200 tons, and some were as large as 1,000 tons and carried 1,000 men. They were called jong in Malay and Javanese, which the Portuguese called junco. (The English learned this term, “junk,” and applied it to Chinese ships.) The main builders of these ships, heirs to 2,000 years of shipbuilding, were all along the north coast of Java and in southern Borneo and Pegu, close to the teak forests. The Srivijayan empire was long gone, and these were local sultans and merchants engaged in the lucrative long-distance, high-seas shipping, traveling to southern China, Malacca, the Coromandel coast of India, Aden, the Red Sea, and Madagascar. A fourth trade network was the land-based northern Eurasian route, the stretch of central Asia crossed by the ancient Silk Road. Throughout its history,

this venerable trade link between the Far East and the Mediterranean opened and closed depending on the local political climate, but from 1240 to 1340 it was again open, protected by Mongol outposts. During that “window of opportunity” thousands of European merchants poured eastward, including Marco Polo (see chapter 3).

Finally, there was the trade network of the eastern Mediterranean, where merchants from Italian city-states, Byzantium, and North Africans were in a lucrative transnational trade system.

Each of these networks was a “world system,” in the phrase made famous by Immanuel Wallerstein (1976). This term contrasts with the term “empire.” Both an empire and a world system are transnational bonds among polities of various size and type, but an empire is a system of political domination whereas a “world system” is an economic system. There may indeed be inequi- ties in such systems—Wallerstein’s analysis of the capitalist world system is an analysis of economic dominance—but they are not based on direct political dominance. Of course, it can happen, and did, that a world system produces empires, and that is the topic we turn to next. But the capitalist world system was always larger than, and different from, the empires that thrived on it.

European Empires in Asia
Portuguese Port Cities and Priests

The European period in Asia opens with the Portuguese. Prince Henry of Portugal, “The Navigator,” in one of the earliest partnerships of science and commerce, sponsored exploration by Vasco de Gama in search of a new route to the Indian Ocean that avoided the unfriendly Turkish-controlled Red Sea. Could you get there via the Cape of Good Hope? As it turned out, you could, and soon Portuguese trading ships were going all the way to Southeast Asia. When Vasco De Gama arrived home at the end of the fifteenth century with a cargo of cinnamon mixed with clay for which he had paid double its market value in Calicut, then sold it for 60 times the total cost of his two-year expedi- tion, the European rush to Asia was on.

Four years before this fortuitous voyage, the Pope had sought to contain Portuguese and Spanish rivalry by dividing the world between them in the Treaty of Tordesilla (1494). Spain got the New World and Portugal got Asia. This meant that during the sixteenth century, Portugal had no competition from Spain except for Spain’s backdoor entry to the Philippines via the Pacific late in the century.

The first viceroy of Portugal in the East was Dom Affonso d’Albuquerque (1509–1515) whose vision of an Asian empire was fired by a loathing of Mus- lims. This made the Islamic Mughal Empire in India, then in its prime, a par- ticular challenge. Albuquerque’s strategy was to establish a series of fortresses along the major coasts of the Indian Ocean. Unlike Arab and Indian trading vessels, his ships were armed. His first conquest was at Goa on the Malabar

Coast, a city that still retains its Portuguese flavor and was the very last spot in India to be relinquished 450 years later. From here the Portuguese controlled the pilgrim route to Mecca and could interfere with the spice trade from South- east Asia. In 1511 Albuquerque captured the crucial city of Malacca, and Macao was founded after Portuguese traders were expelled from Guangzhou. With coastal trade fortresses in India, Ceylon, Southeast Asia, and China, Prince Henry of Portugal was soon one of the richest princes in Europe, enhanced by another source of wealth: pirating Arab ships in lonely waters.

At mid-century, three Portuguese sailors who had taken passage in a Chi- nese junk were stranded by a typhoon off the coast of Japan. The Japanese wel- comed them with curiosity and friendliness. The Japanese were particularly interested in the weapons of the Portuguese castaways; very soon there were Japanese copies of them, which would transform the war culture of the samu- rai. Before long, both traders and missionaries were making their way to Japan. Francis Xavier and two other members of the Order of Jesus, known as the Jesuits, having just left Goa, landed in 1549 in early Tokugawa Japan and immediately began making converts. At first Christianity seemed to the Japa- nese to be another form of Buddhism; Christ was a saving Bodhisattva, as lov- ing and merciful as Amida or Kannon. The daimyo were given to understand that the price of lucrative trade was allowing the Jesuits to preach, a deal they were willing to make. But the intolerance of Christianity, which was gearing up for the Inquisition back in Europe, especially Xavier’s insistence that anyone who died without being a Christian would burn in hell forever, made enemies among the Buddhist monks. For people who revered their ancestors and had never really believed in hell, despite all the Buddhist iconography of hell, this

was a shocking doctrine.

Jesuits were received by the powerful Japanese daimyo Nobunaga in 1568 with courtesy that astonished people who knew him; he invited them to private suppers and listened to their religious views even while remaining a Tendai Buddhist. The samurai admired the Jesuits because they shared values of ascet- icism, loyalty, learning, and a certain aristocratic arrogance. And the Jesuits introduced material items the Japanese came to desire: tobacco, clocks, globes, maps, musical instruments, bread (still called by its Portuguese name, pan), rosaries, and European clothes. Perhaps most significant of all were the castle- fortifications, which the daimyo began to build in the Portuguese style. Hideyo- shi’s castle at Osaka is the most beautiful example.

But when Spanish Franciscans arrived, the two Catholic orders began to intrigue against one another. The Dutch and English arrived next and gave Tokugawa Ieyasu (the founder of the last shogunate) a Protestant view of Christianity. These foreigners also described the ambitions of European mon- archs, while Spanish armadas arriving in the Philippines vividly illustrated the dangers. There were a great many Christian converts, perhaps as many as 300,000 at the peak, along with a number of daimyo, and these, it was feared, might align themselves with a foreign power against the shogun. Acting on his

growing suspicions, the daimyo warrior Hideyoshi executed six Franciscans, three Jesuits, and 17 Japanese converts in 1597, thus beginning four decades of persecutions. In 1638, 37,000 Christians led by five samurai took refuge in an old feudal castle in Shimabara. They held out for two months but were finally overtaken, and all but 105 were killed. This was virtually the end of Christian- ity in Japan. After 1640 no foreigners remained except a handful of Dutch who were practically imprisoned at Nagasaki and became Japan’s sole source of knowledge about the outside world (this knowledge thus was called “Dutch Learning”) until Perry arrived in 1853.

The Spanish were, of course, cheating on the Treaty of Tordesilla when they established a presence in Manila, but politics back home—uniting the crowns of Portugal and Spain—made all that moot. They named the Philip- pines after Philip II of Spain and made themselves welcome in Asia by sending shiploads of Mexican silver across the “Spanish lake,” the Pacific. By the end of the sixteenth century, 72 metric tons of silver were arriving every year from the New World on the famous “Manila galleons,” and Mexican dollars became the de facto standard currency in international trade, the role of the US dollar in the twentieth century. In the Philippines no strong state had emerged on the order of China or Japan, and the many small-scale tribal societies were unable to fend off the Spanish. Thus the Philippines became the first Asian region, aside from the small Portuguese coast towns, to succumb to colonial dominance.

Half a century after Japan’s ill-fated encounter with Europeans, the Italian Jesuit Matteo Ricci was granted residence in Beijing, and for 125 years, until they were banned from China in 1725, Jesuits were a conduit for knowledge of China in Europe and of European learning in China. Europe was having its own form of Enlightenment (not the Buddhist one), and the learned Jesuits were the right monastic order to bring this new learning to China. Jesuits trans- lated Euclid’s geometry, over a hundred treatises on Western science and tech- nology, and many Christian works into Chinese. The Chinese emperor Kangxi (1661–1722), a man of tremendous energy and curiosity, was particularly favor- able to the Jesuits, especially to Ferdinand Verbiest, with whom he endlessly discussed science and religion (Spence 1974). The Jesuits wrote back to Europe that China was ruled by “philosopher-kings” (they meant the Confucian scholar-official class), provoking great admiration for China among Europe’s intellectuals. “Chinoiserie” came into vogue with Chinese-style furniture, fab- rics, and ceramics ornamenting mansions and pagodas rising from lavish gar- dens. But the Catholic mission to China self-destructed in much the same way it did in Japan, and in 1724 Christianity was banned from the Middle Kingdom.

During the sixteenth century, Portuguese were also stopping along Viet- nam’s long coastline to buy raw silk, and soon they were followed by Jesuits. Again Jesuits had great success in converting the people. The Vietnam elite, the Nguyen dynasty, had begun its conquest of Vietnam from their central capital at Hue, gradually taking over the Mekong delta and establishing a Confucian state on the Chinese model. They organized an examination system for select-

ing officials on the basis of scholarship in the Confucian classics and created a script for their language derived from Chinese characters. The Jesuits had little success with this Sinicized elite, but by the nineteenth century there were more Christians in Vietnam than in all of China. The Jesuits created a romanized script for Vietnamese, which eventually beat out the Chinese script. The Chris- tianization of Vietnam continued for the next 200 years; persecution of Chris- tians did not begin until the nineteenth century, when it provided a pretext for French invasion.

English and Dutch Merchant Companies

When the Spanish and Portuguese were powerful enough to divide the world between them, they didn’t leave any little spaces for other nations, and consequently they largely owned the sixteenth century, reducing people like Sir Francis Drake to risky adventures and piracy. But when the English defeated the Spanish Armada in 1588, the seas were less dangerous for English and Dutch sailors who wanted their share of discovery and trade. The Dutch were a bit ahead of the English, with an excellent center of cartography in Antwerp, ambitious merchant houses, and nationalist loathing of the Spanish tyrants they had only recently escaped. In the 1590s, they sent no less than 91 ships to run the Spanish blockade to the Spice Islands. English ships were having less success, although Ralph Fitch had visited Mughal Emperor Akbar’s two capi- tal cities in 1585 and reported that each was twice the size of London. At that point, England’s only ambition was a share of the Indonesian spice trade.

At the beginning of the seventeenth century two unique and crucial organi-

zations were founded. On the last day of 1600, Queen Elizabeth I signed a charter creating the East India Company; in 1602 the Dutch East India Com- pany was chartered (the VOC, for Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie). Both were joint-stock companies, early forms of the financial corporation. No Eng- lish or Dutch merchant could afford the huge costs and risks of outfitting a ship and supporting it for a two-year voyage to Southeast Asia; one ship, the Red Dragon, cost 3,700 pounds and took four years for a round-trip. But 217 Lon- don merchants each contributed a few hundred pounds, thus forming the first great trading company. The Dutch raised 10 times more capital than the British and thus were able to send 38 ships to the Indian Ocean, where they defeated the Portuguese fleet and seized Amboina. The English were able to send out only four ships on their first venture, but their risk was handsomely repaid by an average profit of 170 percent on the first seven voyages.

The crowns of both countries granted their corporation a monopoly on trade for a specified number of years and the right to conclude treaties with native princes, maintain armed forces, build forts, and found “factories,” which then meant only warehouses and trade establishments in foreign places. Both companies began as trade enterprises but ended up deeply involved in local politics, joined Asian princes in warfare, and ended up as territorial empires. Merchants became colonial administrators, “factories” grew to huge cities, and

investment expanded from trade alone to production by means of another social invention of colonial times, the plantation system.

Better funded, the Dutch became the foremost naval and commercial nation in the first half of the seventeenth century. They captured the Javanese city of Jacatra, renaming it Batavia (it’s now Jakarta), and from here the first company governor-general, Jan Coen, ruthlessly extended Dutch control, both maritime and inland. In order to monopolize local trade in spices, they used their armies to destroy independent producers and traders. Cloves could only be grown in the Dutch-controlled region around Amboina; so 65,000 clove trees were destroyed in the Moluccas. When nutmeg growers on Banda Island resisted Dutch control, 2,500 inhabitants were massacred and 800 were taken to Batavia. This process reduced whole island populations, once prosperous with spice production and trade, to poverty.

They also killed whole sectors of long-distance trade that once enriched Asian communities from Southeast Asia to India. For instance, Indonesian and Indian merchants had traded island spices for Indian cloth; cloth imported to Southeast Asia between 1620 and 1650 had been worth 60 tons of silver a year. The Dutch killed this trade by importing their own cloth, and then, by ruining the indigenous Southeast Asian trade system, the buying power of the people plummeted so that even the Dutch textile trade was permanently depressed.

The British East India Company also had ambitions in the Spice Islands, but the Dutch were intent on monopolizing this trade. There was an ugly inci- dent in 1623 when the Dutch captured 17 British traders whom they tortured and decapitated. This was the turning point; the British turned to India as sec- ond best.

Britain’s Indian Empire

Elizabeth I’s contemporary in India was Akbar, the greatest of the Mughal emperors. The Mughals were the Indian extension of the greatest colonizing empire ever to dominate Central Asia, whose founding figure, Genghis Khan, united the Mongol tribes in 1206 (see chapter 3). They conquered China in 1279 but stopped short of India. In 1398 Tamerlane plundered Delhi, but not until 1526 did a descendant of both Genghis Khan and Tamerlane actually con- quer and stay to build an Indian empire. That was Babur, who had inherited a kingdom around Samarkand but sought fame and fortune first in Kabul and then by invading India. We know quite a lot about Babur, because he was a cul- tured, Persianized lover of the arts who wrote his memoirs in a charming and personal style. From Babur on, India has been ruled by people who, like the Chinese, make extensive administrative records, keep journals and write auto- biographies, commission regional gazetteers, and in other ways leave a wealth of records about social life. Babur did not live long after conquering India, and it was really his brilliant grandson, Akbar, who created the Mughal Empire.

Neither China nor India ever imagined maritime empires, though both

countries have lengthy coastlines with vigorous trading communities that, for

centuries, were engaged in rich long-distance international trade. Their capitals were never coastal but always deep inland. The enemies they worried about were even further inland, across passes and corridors from which aggressive, mounted warriors periodically emerged. Wealth and glory could be had by conquering territories and putting populations to work. The seas, by contrast, seemed merely empty; they were the borders you didn’t have to worry about. Who could imagine a maritime empire?

Thus, when the East India Company turned from the Spice Islands to India looking for trade, it found the Mughal Empire at its peak; it had a mighty army but no fleet. England first sent high-ranking ambassadors to court to ask for trade treaties; here, too, there was the problem of Jesuits speaking against Protestant English traders; and there was the problem that England didn’t really produce anything that India needed or wanted. India had its own thriv- ing cloth industry; anyway, in the Indian climate, who needed English wool- ens? But they were happy to sell Indian products for silver or gold. Emperor Jahangir finally granted permission to trade and build a “factory” but refused to give the Company the monopoly they desired.

The first factory of the East India Company in India was in the Mughal capital at Agra. But Agra was not convenient for maritime trade; they needed a factory on the Ganges delta, which would turn the entire Ganges system into a vast trade network. They were given permission to build a factory at Hooghly near a Kali shrine and a ghat, from which came the name Calcutta (Kali-ghat). Down on the southeast coast, the Company bought some land from a minor raja near the village of Mandraz to build a fort they called St. George in 1639. The city that grew there came to be called Madras, after the village. And finally, on the west coast, there was a small island that King Charles II got in his dowry when he married the Infanta of Portugal. He rented it to the East India Company for a loan at low interest and 10 pounds a year; this became Bombay. These three posts, now India’s three largest cities, gave England a tri- angulation on India; convenient at first for shipping, they became toeholds, then the founding territories, and finally the three “Presidencies” from which Britain moved inland as the Mughals went into decline after 1707.

India became the place where ambitious young men went to seek their for- tunes. Salaries were low, but the expectation was you would use your entrepre- neurial ingenuity to engage in business on the side, where fabulous fortunes were to be made. The greatest of the early adventuring Company men was Robert Clive, a hothead who regularly got into trouble until his father sent him to India to straighten him out. He went to Fort St. George as a clerk, but this work bored and depressed him so severely that once he tried to blow his brains out. It turned out there were better adventures ahead for Robert Clive.

The French had also established a post near Madras, and they got good at the game everyone (the English, the Dutch in Indonesia) learned: use your troops to support weak contenders for local thrones; put them in power; then use them as puppets. They repay you in currency, treasure, and trade; you get

rich. Clive was only 23 when he made his fame in India. There was one throne in nearby Arcot and two claimants; the French backed one, the English backed the other. The local prince (nawab), backed by the French, took all his troops from the capital to lay siege to the British candidate in Trichinopoly. Clive hatched the plan of taking Arcot while the nawab was away. A million specta- tors watched as he marched in with 200 British soldiers and 300 sepoys (from sipahi, soldier; Indian soldiers). It was so bold and brilliant that Clive’s fame immediately spread throughout India. The outcome was that the British- backed contender was declared king; the French-backed contender was exe- cuted; the French general, Dupleix, was humiliated and went back to France; and Clive was said to be invincible.

Not long afterward there was an incident in Calcutta that again began as competition between the English and the French but embroiled them with local rulers. The young prince, Siraj-ud-Daula, became suspicious when the English began to fortify Fort William against the French, and he moved an army to put a stop to it. The British official in charge took fright and fled downriver, leaving a small army behind, who were captured and imprisoned by Siraj in a small cell used to lock up three or four drunks at a time. As many as 145 men and one woman were forced inside to spend the night in the heat of May; only 23 sur- vived until morning. This incident, known as the “Black Hole of Calcutta,” provoked outrage in England, and Clive was sent to Bengal to take vengeance. There was a round of intrigue and duplicity, leading to the British victory in the Battle of Plassey in 1757, which resulted in another Clive puppet being put on a throne. Siraj-ud-Daula, who was only 20 years old, was captured, cut into pieces, and his remains paraded through the streets on an elephant. Clive was rewarded with the Mughal title of mansabdar, an administrative position that included a cavalry of 6,000 for which he was responsible, equivalent to that of a Mughal prince; this rank came with an estate of 880 square miles from which the expenses of the cavalry and his own personal fortune were to be raised. Overnight “Clive of India” became the richest man in England.

By the end of Clive’s career, the East India Company was the most impor- tant power in North India. In 1765 the Mughal emperor, Shah Alam, pro- claimed the East India Company his diwan or governor for the provinces of Bihar, Bengal, and Orissa. The Company was now to rule the millions of peo- ple in this region and collect the millions of rupees of revenue it generated. In return, they owed loyalty and support to the emperor in Allahabad plus 260,000 pounds annually. The East India Company was no longer just a trad- ing company; it had become the government of a vast territory of India.

As the official government with responsibility for the welfare of millions of Indians, the East India Company was expected to behave more responsibly than it had up to now. This was brought home when nearly a third of Bengali peasants starved to death in the famine of 1770. The famine was caused in large measure by British exploitation and was worsened when grain stores were sold at vast profit to the starving peasants who produced the grain in the

first place. Back in London, there was a growing sense that the Crown must take greater responsibility for what was happening in India. Pitt’s India Act of 1784 attempted to force responsible government on the Company by establish- ing a supervisory Board of Governors made up of British ministers and required the Company to begin training and adequately paying officials who would work diligently and honorably in India. It also called for regularizing the land holdings of Indians from whom revenues were collected. This resulted in a vast undertaking, in which the holdings and claims of every small and large zamindar were investigated and then British concepts of private property own- ership were imposed on what had been a vastly more fluid system of land use. The Permanent Settlement of 1793 thus made possible the displacement of the old Mughal princes of Bengal by newly rich Indian commercial families who could afford to buy them out when they fell on hard times.

Meanwhile, during the first half of the nineteenth century, economic phi- losophy was undergoing a shift. The philosophy under which the East India Company had first been chartered held that the purpose of trade was both to profit the merchants and to bring glory to the nation. The East India Company had been given a monopoly on trade to ensure it would become rich and pow- erful and simultaneously maintain and strengthen British power in competition with other sovereign nations. Business—international trade, at least—was to serve national interests. This philosophy was known as “mercantilism.”

But new ideas were in the wind, ideas associated with the growing middle class and with Britain’s emerging manufacturing base. This was the idea of “free trade,” destined to dominate the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. From the point of view of Manchester textile barons, the East India Company monopoly on trade meant flooding Britain with cheap Indian cloth just when English factories were becoming so productive that they needed constantly expanding markets to absorb all they could now produce. The monopoly on trade was abolished, but just to be on the safe side, tariffs were raised against Indian cloth entering Britain to protect the English textile industry. Thus eco- nomic policy under the name of free trade was tweaked to ensure England’s continued economic advantage. The result was the destruction of the Indian handloom industry.

A second new idea began to emerge: the linking of the British and Indian economies in a new way. Where, before, India had primary industries (grain, raw materials) and secondary industries (handloom cloth manufacturers), India would now specialize in primary production while Britain specialized in sec- ondary production, using its new industrial technology to add value to India’s raw goods. A permanent relationship and a single, pan-imperial economy would result. Rather than importing industrial technology to India, a new tech- nology for raw goods production was invented: the plantation system. Tea, cot- ton, opium, sugar, indigo—all were grown on vast estates owned by English planters employing Indians on a wage basis. Now instead of cultivating for themselves on small plots of land that could be passed down from father to son,

Indian peasants had no land, worked for wages kept artificially low in order to keep wages high and prices low in England, and had to buy food with their low wages. In this way, colonial economies were distorted by the growing imperial system, artificially simplified to the production of primary products only.

Meanwhile, piece by piece, throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth cen- turies, Britain gobbled up India. One means was the “doctrine of lapse.” According to Hindu law, when a raja was about to die without an heir, he could adopt a son, which would be treated like a first-born natural son. But in 1849 the British declared that “heirs and successors” in all treaties applied only to natural sons. Otherwise, the princely state “reverted” to the Company. In this way, state after state “reverted” to the Company—and many dispossessed heirs were skulking around, biding their time.

A crisis was brewing, and it exploded in 1857. The Company’s private army had grown to 40,000 troops—supplemented by 300,000 Indian sepoys. The sepoys tended to be men of the upper castes. They were well trained by the British and were overall intensely loyal, even though their commanders were almost always British and the handful of Indian officers were never put in com- mand over Indian troops. There had been a series of unpopular regulations, such as requiring sepoys to accept service in Burma, which was “across the Black Waters,” thereby causing pollution and outcasting. The triggering event, however, was a new Enfield rifle that fired a bullet greased, it was believed, by a mixture of cow and pig fat. The end of the cartridge had to be torn open with the teeth, which meant both Hindu and Muslim soldiers were polluted by using the new rifle.

The rebellion began in the garrison town of Meerut on May 10, 1857, when sepoys turned on their officers, killed some of them, then headed for Delhi. There they gathered under the window of Emperor Bahadur Shah in the Red Fort, fired a 21-gun salute and declared him emperor of all Hindustan. Europeans in Delhi were hunted down and killed. Between Meerut and Oudh, most garrisons joined the rebellion, murdering English military and civilian men, women, and children. The war raged throughout the hot summer, as the sepoys, at first spontaneous and disorganized, were joined and led by Indian princes like Nana Sahib of Oudh and the Rani of Jhansi. However, the rebel- lion was limited to the central Ganges basin. Bengal and Bihar stayed loyal; so did the Punjab, central India, and Madras. The telegraph system had just been completed, so communication was reduced to minutes rather than days or weeks in calling for reinforcements. Troops were summoned from Persia, Madras, Ceylon, Rangoon, and even an expedition to China was intercepted at Singapore and called back. By spring of 1858 England had reclaimed all the territory, inflicting often brutal vengeance. Emperor Bahadur Shah was exiled to Burma where he soon died, and the last 21 princes of the blood were hanged, thus extinguishing the Mughal dynasty.

After these events, Britain passed the Government of India Act, transfer- ring all rights and responsibilities of the East India Company to the Crown,

452 Part VI: European Empires in Asia

Chapter 12 The Colonial Period

451

The 1857 Rebellion (known as the Indian Mutiny in older texts) swept across much of north India. Soon after its beginning in the British garrison in Meerut, the insurgents took Delhi, where they coerced the last Mughal emperor, Bahadur Shah II, to accept leadership of the move- ment. The elderly emperor understood the impossibility of the situation but had no real choice. After the British retook the city in 1858, the last Mughal emperor was put on trial and exiled to Rangoon (Yangon), Burma, where he died in 1862.

and in 1877 Victoria was proclaimed Empress of India. Her representative in India was the Viceroy, who began to invent imperial rituals that were extraordi- nary amalgams of Mughal, British, and brand-new extravaganzas. The lesson of 1857 had been, in part, that the Indian elite—heads of princely states of all sizes and called by an assortment of titles (raja, maharaja, nawab, rana, etc.)— had to be drawn into bonds of loyalty and mutual self-interest to Britain. What couldn’t be done before with the Company might better be done with the Crown. Relations with Indian princes were improved by ending the doctrine of lapse, honoring all treaties made with them, and incorporating them in a new “symbolic-cultural constitution” of titles, honors, “imperial assemblages” and darbars. The result was not to lessen but strengthen British control by interfer- ing less with religious custom, binding the Indian elite more closely in ties of mutual interest, and continuing policies of economic interdependence.

China: Opium Wars and the Treaty Century

For a thousand years India exported religious ideas and learned masters to China; then for half a dozen centuries there was little to send from India to a

China that had everything and wished for nothing except possibly acknowledg- ment of the superiority of the Celestial Empire over every other nation on earth. Then in the eighteenth century a new product in the form of balls of a hard, brown resinous substance wrapped in poppy petals and packed 40 to the crate in Banares and Patna began arriving in Canton. From the beginning Bei- jing did not like this import and tried to prohibit it as early as 1729, when opium was still reaching China in very small quantities. But the edict prohibit- ing the importing of opium passed almost without notice, and the trade contin- ued to grow throughout the century. By the 1820s, India was sending over 5,000 chests a year.

Although opium was contraband in China, opium cultivation was perfectly legal in India. Of course, opium had extremely important medical uses in the nineteenth century, some of which continue today. Morphine and codeine are made from Papaver somniferum, the opium poppy. In the nineteenth century, opium was the source of the most important drugs, without which a physician could hardly practice medicine. Prior to the invention of the hypodermic nee- dle, opium was mixed with water or alcohol in drugs like laudanum that were essential to treatment of dysentery, diarrhea, asthma, diabetes, cholera, rheu- matism, fevers, malaria, bronchitis, and any kind of pain. There was hardly any other drug available to physicians. Opium cultivation for these uses produced no moral dilemmas.

Indians chewed opium, as did most peoples in the world before the nine- teenth century. Smoking the drug appears to have been invented in southern China, where first it was mixed with tobacco—a New World import that Bei- jing had also tried to block—then gradually the tobacco was omitted and opium was smoked by itself in little clay pipes. The pipe with a small ball of opium is held over a flame until the opium bubbles and evaporates. The heavy white smoke drawn into the lungs produces the effect described by the American trav- eler Bayard Taylor at Canton: after his sixth pipe he began to see brilliant colors that floated before his eyes “in a confused and cloudy way, sometimes converg- ing into spots like the eyes in a peacock’s tail, but often melting into and through each other, like the hues of changeable silk” (Fay 1975). The opium smoker withdraws into his or her own world, something of a vegetative state (Cocteau said, “Opium is the only vegetable substance that communicates the vegetable state to us”). After years of addiction, the addict becomes emaciated, dull-eyed, lethargic, and lives for nothing but the next pipe of opium.

In the late nineteenth century, 400,000 acres of poppy were processed in Ghazipur and sold in Banares; in Bihar, half a million acres were devoted to poppy, which was processed at Patna. Somewhat later, a third major area opened near Malwa in central India. These three regions produced about 6,000 tons a year, almost all bound for China. Opium production had been legal under the Mughals, for whom it was an important source of revenue. As the British took control from the crumbling Mughal Empire, the East India Company took over a monopoly in opium production. Poppies were sown in November and

came into bloom in January; the seed pod was lanced, and the milky substance was collected in April and May. During the intense dry heat of May the mois- ture content was reduced to 30 percent; then the resulting product—opium— was formed into three-pound balls or “cakes,” wrapped in sheets made from the poppy petals, and dried. In October and November the cakes were packed inside mango-wood crates, 40 cakes in two layers, about 120 pounds total. These crates were loaded onto boats and shipped down the Ganges to Calcutta.

In Calcutta, opium was the property of the Government of India’s Board of Customs, Salt, and Opium. No one else could deal in opium in India. The Government of India (still at that time the East India Company) auctioned off the opium to private merchants who carried it to China. The profit, after pay- ing costs of production and transport, went to the Government of India, but the East India Company, by selling to private shippers at Calcutta, wiped its hands of the delicate problem that all opium entering China was illegal.

In China, as we have already seen, there was only one way to trade, which was to come as a tributary nation, perform the nine prostrations before the emperor, the “kowtow,” and present tribute. Only then, as an act of benevolent good will, would the emperor grant the barbarian the right to engage in a little trade. Most nations were willing to play this game for the sake of the treasures that China produced; Siamese, Nepalese, Inner Asians, Russians, Portuguese, Dutch would all kowtow to trade—but not the English. When George Macart- ney, England’s first emissary to China, arrived in Beijing in 1792, he was deter- mined to be received as an emissary from an equal, sovereign nation. He would drop to one knee to honor another great monarch but would kowtow to the Son of Heaven only if some mandarin would kowtow to a picture of George

III. The Chinese refused this sign of equality but allowed trade anyway, enroll- ing England as a tributary state, whether they wanted it or not, after having received Macartney’s ship with an honor barge carrying inscriptions reading “envoy bearing tribute.”

In Canton the barbarians could engage in trade only under extremely con- trolled conditions. The Chinese government assigned Chinese merchant houses, called “hongs,” to handle all foreign trade, which was organized into a guild called the cohong. The chief official was known by the foreigners as the “Hoppo,” the superintendent of customs whose job was to determine import duties and who performed these duties by exacting as much as he possibly could from the foreigners. Fifteen acres of riverbank were assigned to all West- ern nations for their “factories,” which were long narrow buildings that served as warehouses, living quarters, servants’ rooms, and cookhouses. Foreign mer- chants were not allowed to leave these 15 acres to go into the city, still less to take an outing in the countryside. They might do a little rowing on the river just off their quarters, but that was all. Anything they needed from the China beyond their 15 acres had to be managed by the hong. They hired Chinese “compradors” to manage their day-to-day operations. Every year, from April to October, the entire European establishment moved down to the Portuguese

city of Macao for the summer. In Macao they had rather ordinary freedoms, but in Canton they were entirely dependent on the hongs.

Hong merchants were far from ordinary shopkeepers; their appointment by the government entitled them to scholar-official status, though mostly of the lowest (ninth) rank; a few had somewhat higher status, as indicated by a blue button at the top of their hats. Relations between the “foreign devils” and the hong merchants were surprisingly good, and the Canton trade sector was famous for being an honest place where, aside from the exactions of the Hoppo and predictable “squeeze” paid to smaller clerks and officials, you could at least trust the quality of the merchandise and expect not to be cheated. Of course, they were all complicit in the illegal drug trade, but even that was viewed as the “safest trade in China” by people like William Jardine and James Matheson, two Scots who established a very successful trading com- pany in Canton. They did not consider themselves smugglers. The Chinese were smugglers. Foreigners arrived in Canton waters with ships of perfectly legal opium from India. Getting it into China was the illegal part. After paying for the opium with certificates of trade or pure silver, hong merchants sent small boats out to take the crates of opium from the merchant vessels anchored in the river.

Selling opium in China was essential to obtaining the products of Chinese industry—silks, sugar, porcelain, lacquerware, wallpaper, and above all, tea— because Europe produced very little that anyone in China would pay for. Moreover, by the late 1820s, England was importing 30 million pounds of tea a year from China. The duty levied on tea in Britain provided the government with revenues of three million pounds annually. In order to keep the tea flow- ing to England, opium had to go the other way—to China; otherwise the trade imbalance would drain Britain of silver, which was the only product the Chi- nese government really wanted. Finally, in the 1830s, the silver flow began to reverse. China was now buying more opium than it was selling tea. Silver was now flowing out of the Celestial Empire. Moreover, the addiction problem was out of control. An effort by the imperial government to discover the extent of addiction turned up frightening news. From the imperial household to regional governments and to workers in urban areas, everywhere but the countryside, people were lying with their pipes in opium dreams.

The Qing emperor invoked his Manchu ancestors who would hold him responsible for the damage done to the empire by the foreign drug. He solicited opinions from his highest-placed officials about how to solve the problem. These proposals were not so different from those heard today with respect to our current drug problem. Some urged legalizing it. Others urged cracking down on foreign suppliers. But the unpleasant reality was that the foreigners arrived in armed merchant ships that China’s weak coastal boats could not stand up to. It was easier to concentrate on the Chinese end of the problem and go after the Chinese smugglers and traders. One official the emperor listened to closely was Lin Zexu, who wrote a lengthy analysis of the situation, complete

with a concrete strategy for dealing with it. Lin Zexu was appointed the emperor’s “drug czar” and was sent to Canton.

There were early signs that trouble was ahead for the opium business. A crowd of soldiers arrived outside the European factories one day with a cap- tured Chinese smuggler in a basket. In minutes the prisoner was hoisted and strangled before the horrified eyes of the watching foreigners. The body was left to hang as a sign of government’s new resolve. Then, one morning in 1839, shortly after Commissioner Lin’s arrival, workmen arrived and began bricking up the entrances to Hog Lane, New China Street, and the various alleys by which servants entered the 15-acre area of European factories. Servants disap- peared. Travel to Macao was forbidden. Next, the foreigners were ordered to turn over all their crates of opium. They balked at first and then realized they had no choice but to give in. Twenty thousand chests of opium were delivered to Commissioner Lin, who systematically destroyed it all before allowing the foreigners to finally escape down river to Macao.

The perfectly reasonable—in retrospect—actions of Commissioner Lin provoked war with Britain. The reasoning of the British government might at first be hard to grasp. They did not go to war directly to defend the opium trade, but they defended it with various rationales. One British official in India

Commissioner Lin with an imperial commission from the Daoguang emperor to halt the illegal importation of opium by the British, destroying thousands of chests of opium in 1839. Lin Zexu, 1785–1850, courtesy name Yuanfu. Chinese scholar-official of the Qing dynasty. From Hutchin- son’s History of the Nations, published 1915.

wrote: “During the nearly nine years I was attached to the Banares Agency, I never knew one solitary instance of impaired health amongst natives resulting in use of the drug, not even in the factories, where people passed 12 hours a day in an opium atmosphere and ate as much as they could consume” (Fay 1975:185). The opium merchants pressed England to reimburse the two mil- lion pounds value of the opium as Elliot, the British official in Canton, had promised the government would do. Where to get the money? Times were hard in England, and no better in India where the future of opium was in doubt; why not make China pay?

But that was not the main rationale of Britain to engage in war with China. Rather it was the interruption of international trade that would have such far- reaching consequences. Further, it was the refusal of the Chinese government to enter into the culture of the emerging nineteenth-century world system. The pretense that the emperor was the highest monarch on earth, the Son of Heaven for all, was absurd. This pretense of the Chinese was worse than a mere legitimating device to shore up authority at home; for refusing to commu- nicate with other nations on equal terms or to permit envoys to negotiate with Beijing directly, China had to receive a harsh challenge from abroad.

So it was that five warships blockaded Canton while a large force headed up the coast and initiated half a dozen engagements. It soon ended with humil- iation for the Qing government and their forced acceptance of the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842. This treaty began the saga of Hong Kong.

The treaty provided that foreign nationals would be subject to their own laws under their own resident consuls, a principle known as “extraterritorial- ity.” China agreed to pay an indemnity for the value of the confiscated opium and the cost of the British operation against them. Fair tariffs, the right to deal directly with customs collectors, and the freedom to trade at designated “treaty ports” were guaranteed. The island of Hong Kong was granted to Britain in perpetuity as their main East Asian base.

The First Opium War and the Treaty of Nanjing thus began what is often called the “Treaty Century,” a period from 1842 to 1949 when China had its most continuous and pervasive encounters with other nations, and ending with the reclosing of all those doors after the Communist Revolution. Two more opium wars as well as treaties with France, the United States, and Russia were forced on China. The first five treaty ports were eventually expanded to more than 80, all located along China’s eastern seaboard where large enclaves of for- eigners lived under their own laws and introduced their own churches, arts, and lifestyles. “Free trade” was a form of imperialism benefiting these nations, since Chinese industries were kept infantile against the new products of the Western industrial revolution by the simple device of forcing agreement to low tariffs in the treaties. Opium continued to flow from India until 1917.

From the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842 to the Nanjing Massacre in which 100,000 Chinese were slaughtered by Japanese invaders in 1937, China’s “Treaty Century” of “openness,” “free trade,” and interaction with the outside

world left China helpless, humiliated, bitter, and extremely cautious about giv- ing it all another try. The reforms of the 1980s and 1990s should be viewed not just against the backdrop of the Communist experiments of the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution but also against the conditions of China’s experiences during its Treaty Century.

“Below the Winds”—Colonizing the Islands

On the Malay Peninsula and in the islands of Southeast Asia, Malay- speakers identified their region as “below the winds,” that is, below the mon- soons that picked up moisture from the southern seas and dumped it on India, the Southeast Asian mainland, and southern China. Outsiders from “above the winds”—Arabs, Gujaratis, Chinese, Japanese, and Europeans—rode these winds into Malay territories to trade.

Muslim traders from India had brought a new faith to peoples below the winds as Hinduism and Buddhism had come earlier. A Hindu prince of Malacca named Parameshvara converted to Islam and changed his name to Megot Iskander Shah, and because of the strategic and commercial importance of the Sultanate of Malacca (1403–1511), Islam rapidly spread among the Malay chiefs of the region. As the Thai had once embraced Buddhism to dis- tinguish themselves from the more powerful Khmer Hindus, Malay princes fighting off Thai ambitions found the new religious identity useful.

Thus, as British trading ships began to pass through the straits and the waters of the South China Sea on their way to Canton, they encountered a number of Malay-Muslim sultans in control of coasts where they thought it would be convenient to have one or two dependable (British) ports of call. In 1785 Captain Francis Lightfoot rendered a little military assistance to the Sul- tan of Kedah and received the island of Penang in return. In 1819 Stamford Raffles took advantage of a little conflict between two other Malay chiefs to acquire the island of Singapore. The Dutch had long since booted the Portu- guese from Malacca, but turned it over to Britain in 1824 when the two nations signed the Anglo-Dutch treaty identifying separate spheres of interest to keep them out of trouble with each other. The Dutch would keep to the lower islands of Indonesia, while the British would keep to the Malay Peninsula. This gave Britain three key cities—Penang, Malacca, and Singapore—which merged as the Straits Settlements in 1826. At first they were governed from Calcutta, but in 1867 the Straits Settlements became a Crown Colony ruled directly from London.

These changes, and others, created a good deal of turmoil on the peninsula

in the early nineteenth century. Chinese were moving south in large numbers fleeing the Taiping Rebellion; this migration, part of a southward migration that had been going on for several centuries, left a legacy of expatriate Chinese communities in many Southeast Asian towns and cities. On the peninsula, many worked inland at opening up tin mines for commercial profit (40 percent of the world’s tin comes from Malaysia). In coastal towns they established trad-

ing communities and served British firms as compradors as they did in China. The composition of towns averaged 70 percent Chinese.

When the East India Company monopoly was abolished, private mer- chants and planters flocked to the region. Rubber became commercially impor- tant for shoes and clothes in the late nineteenth century and then became even more important when the automobile industry emerged in the twentieth cen- tury. But rubber was not native to Malaya. Early efforts to transport rubber

500

250

0

Scale in Miles

JAVA

BALI 1908

1824

CELEBES 1907

BORNEO 1907

1855

1831

1834

1819

1878

1850

1900

1884

MALAYA

MALACCA

1907

1888

MINDANAO 1596

NORTH BORNEO

BRUNEI

1859

to 1907

PHILIPPINES

SIAM

LUZON 1570

INDOCHINA

BURMA

1826

to 1890s

L E G E N D

British French Dutch Spanish

( U.S. after 1898 )

Map 12.2 Colonial acquisitions in Southeast Asia.

SUMATRA

SARAWAK

1888

seeds from the Amazon had failed. Trying again, a trader in rubber in Brazil and a botanist from Kew Gardens outside London gathered 70,000 seeds and hired an empty steamer to rush them to England before they deteriorated. In England they were sped by a special freight train to Kew where greenhouses were cleared to make room for them. As soon as they germinated, 1,919 rubber seedlings were rushed to Ceylon for planting, and from there—at a more lei- surely pace—they were carried to Malaya (Hepper 1982). Eventually half the world’s natural rubber was produced there.

The rubber plantations and tin mines required cheap labor; the Malay pop- ulation filled some of this need but was more inclined to keep to its traditional adaptations of rice agriculture, and so Chinese and Indian laborers were imported to work the plantations. Between 1891 and 1901 over 58,000 Indians came to Malaya; the Chinese population grew to almost 300,000. This growing ethnic complexity, along with the economic and political transformations, cre- ated social turmoil that concerned the Malay sultans, who were frequently at war among themselves, as much as Chinese and European traders who could only benefit from a government that would keep order without interfering or taxing too much. Britain was urged to intervene.

The sultans of the Malay states of Perak, Pahang, Selangor, and Negri Sembilan were persuaded to form a federation in 1896 with its central adminis- tration in Kuala Lumpur, then just a small Chinese tin mining town. The sul- tans of the Federated Malay States (FMS) retained their titles and their authority over adat, Malay custom, while practical administrative control was in the hands of a British official known by the unalarming term “Resident.” Things got off to a bad start when the first Resident, a “tactless and impatient Victorian,” was deservedly hated and eventually murdered, but his successor, Hugh Low, was a good administrator who operated in the black, kept the peace, and made prosperity possible. For all the growing prosperity, however, the loss of real power by the sultans of the federation and the control of Britain was a warning to the sultans who remained outside of the FMS. Five of these unfederated states became known as the Unfederated Malay States, each oper- ating independently unless some crisis required joint action. Each of them had an appointed British official, not a Resident but merely an “Advisor.” The Straits Settlements, the Federated Malay States, and the Unfederated Malay States maintained their separate identities until the Japanese invasion.

Meanwhile, a curious form of colonialism rose on the north coast of Bor- neo. In 1838 a rich Englishman named James Brooke sailed his private armed yacht to Sarawak on a scientific exploration. There he found the Sultan of Bru- nei backed against the wall by Malays and Dayaks who were rebelling against his rule. In the seventeenth century, these sultans had ruled all of Borneo and also the Sulu archipelago of the Southern Philippines, but were now reduced to Sarawak. The sultan got Brooke to help him out against the rebels, and after they were crushed, Brooke was made Raja of Sarawak in 1841. This was the prototypical White Rajah of many a grade B film and novel. He and his succes-

sors—his nephew “Raja Charles” and Charles’s son, Raja Vyner, ruled as the Brooke dynasty for a century, stamping out piracy and protecting the tribal peoples of their territories from exploitation by outsiders.

Burma and Thailand

The nineteenth century was not Burma’s century. Rather, it was a century of humiliation and dismemberment at the hand of—not even a proper king— but the crowd of merchants who called themselves the Government of India. Burma’s century was the eighteenth century. At mid-century a chief from the central Burma town of Shwebo proclaimed himself king of all Burma, took the name Alaungpaya, “The Great Lord Who Shall Become the Buddha,” and began moving against the ethnic Mons, Shan, Siamese, and other competing polities, establishing the Third Burmese Empire. From the capitals of Shwebo and later Ava, both near modern Mandalay, this militant state was in arm’s reach of a number of significant powers. To the northeast was China’s Yunnan Province; Burma was historically one of China’s tributary neighbors. To the southeast was the kingdom of Chiangmai, now Thailand’s second largest city, but then a small independent kingdom; south of Chiangmai was Ayutthaya, where Siamese culture had reached a glittering peak. To the west were Indian territories of Assam and Manipur under the control of the East India Com- pany. Closer in were any number of tiny states and chiefdoms belonging to Mon, Shan, Karen, Chin, and Kachin groups.

During the second half of the eighteenth century, Burma moved against all

these neighbors in an expansive effort to restore the lost glory of previous eras. There is little evidence that these wars were about the things states were to fight about later—trade, land, or self-defense, though insults to national pride were high on the agenda. Twice they captured Chiangmai and then moved on to Laos and to Yunnan Province to demonstrate their control over the whole region. The great goal, however, was Ayutthaya. The Burmese king Hsinby- ushin sent his army down the Mekong River from Laos, conscripting addi- tional soldiers along the way and arrived at the gates of Ayutthaya in January 1766. The Siamese army, with full confidence in their strength, broke apart the gates and attacked the Burmese army but were promptly defeated. Those who could, retreated inside and then settled in for a lengthy siege that did not end until 1767. When the monsoons came, the Burmese had bricked in their can- ons, as a protection from being damaged or carried away by the rains, and kept firing; Burmese soldiers built rafts and cruised the flooded fields, keeping the Siamese cut off from the world. When the monsoons were over, Burmese sol- diers dug tunnels beneath the foundations of the city and set fire to the walls, making an opening for their army. They captured the king and his entire court and marched the surviving populace off to Burma. The city was stripped of all its valuables and burned. The walls were leveled and the moats filled in. The capture of artists and artisans, monks and poets, and the total treasury of Siam left a ghostly ruin at Ayutthaya but created a cultural renaissance in Burma.

462 Part VI: European Empires in Asia

Chapter 12 The Colonial Period

461

The Ayutthaya that was destroyed in 1767 had been built on wealth gained largely through international trade during the previous two centuries. The Sia- mese kings had made Ayutthaya a leading entrepôt for ships coming up and going down the Chao Phrya River to the Gulf of Siam. There was nothing intro- verted about Ayutthaya. The Siamese kings, who had a monopoly on all trade in their realm, welcomed traders from all over the world to their court, as long as the traders respected the royal monopoly (Pombejra 1993). They exchanged embassies with other Asian and European nations, and hundreds of Europeans lived in Ayutthaya and served in the court. One of these was a Greek named Phaulkon who became a high minister of state. Most of the king’s revenues came from foreign trade and were spent on magnificent architecture, merit mak- ing on a grand scale, and support of an enormous royal establishment. The royal monopoly allowed setting high prices on goods leaving the kingdom like lead, tin, copper, gunpowder, areca, precious woods, deerskins, elephants, ivory, and rhinoceros horn. The Dutch viewed the Siamese king as a key rival. The Siamese sent junks to China, Japan, India, and the Philippines, conducting their own trade, and these countries also sent ships regularly to Ayutthaya. Troubles occurred, however, with the East India Company and the VOC (Dutch East India Company) who wanted their own monopolies on trade with Ayutthaya. The events of 1767, however, put a halt to this internationalism while the Sia- mese rebuilt their state under the brilliant general Taksin in Bangkok.

Burma ran into trouble on its western frontier when it captured the border region of Arakan in 1784 and carted off the great gold-covered Mahamuni Buddha that was the pride of the Arakanese people. This put them up against the British in India. Arakan dissidents fled to the Indian town of Chittagong, and unfriendly exchanges across this frontier became common. In 1819 the Arakanese rebelled and Burma pursued the rebels across the border, occupied Assam, attacked Manipur and Chohar, and threatened Chittagong. This led to the First Anglo-Burmese War in 1824. British and Indian forces captured Ran- goon and camped in the Golden Pagoda. Burma was forced to accept a humil- iating treaty. They ceded Tesasserim, Arakan, Manipur, and Assam to Britain; accepted a British Resident and a commercial treaty; agreed not to attack Siam again; and paid an indemnity of 10 million rupees.

In 1840 the Burmese king repudiated this treaty and broke off diplomatic relations. Britain was then involved in the Opium War, and since Burma was a “tributary state” to China, in name, at least, it seemed like a good time to make a try at getting out from under the British. But in 1852 there came a second Anglo-Burmese war that ended with Burma losing the rest of its coastline and the fertile heartland of lower Burma including the whole Irrawady Delta. The Bay of Bengal was now a British lake and Burma was incorporated into the Indian Empire. There was a third Anglo-Burmese war in 1885 when British troops went by steamship up the Irrawady. This time the Burmese monarchy was abolished even though, in the rest of the Indian Empire, relations with India’s princes had never been better and their security was virtually guaranteed.

Vietnam

While most of Southeast Asia was being Indianized during the first few hundred years of the Christian Era, Vietnam was coming under the influence of China. In 214 B.C.E. China established a military post just north of the Tonkin Delta and by 111 B.C.E. controlled most of the north. For about a thou- sand years the Vietnamese of the northern region were considered to be China’s southernmost province, which they called Giao Chi.

During the first millennium this province was strongly influenced by Chi- nese culture. They used Chinese irrigation and terracing methods. The Viet- namese elite became Confucianists and also Mahayana Buddhists, and there were important Buddhist centers in the region, but, as in China, Buddhism never became the dominant religion. Confucianism was always more signifi- cant. The peasants continued to worship numerous spirits and deities of indige- nous origin.

All this did not mean they liked the Chinese or thought of themselves as Chinese. In fact, they were highly ambivalent toward the Chinese. Like the Jap- anese at the same time, the Vietnamese greatly admired China as the center of civilization. But unlike Japan, China was close enough to exert real control, and as a result there were many uprisings against the Chinese rulers, until in 939 one of these was successful and the Vietnamese gained their independence. By the thirteenth century, there were three main regions, peoples, and dynasties in the region now known as Vietnam: (1) In the north, the Tran dynasty (1225–1407); (2) in the central region, the Chams, who were Indian- ized speakers of Austronesian languages, whose kingdom was known as Champa; and (3) in the south, the Khmer, whose kingdom stretched from Cambodia to the Mekong Delta. The cultural and political distinctions between north and south were so great that once, in the 1630s, a Nguyen ruler built two great walls across the narrow waist of the country near Dong Hoi, to

keep the northerners out.

Vietnam did not overcome these regional and ethnic differences and begin the formation of the modern sense of national identity until the late eighteenth century. French Catholic missionaries played a role in this development. Because of Vietnam’s very long coastline with many places for Western ships to put in, Portuguese began to come in the sixteenth century to buy raw Viet- namese silk, followed soon by Jesuits, who had much success in converting the Vietnamese. By the eighteenth century, there had been two centuries of Chris- tian proselytizing; there were more Christians in Vietnam than in all of China, and Christianity was fully integrated into rural culture and political life. They romanized the language, a much simpler system that won out over the Chinese script, which is why Vietnamese today is written with roman letters.

Politically, there were small, mutually hostile states in Hanoi under the Trinh dynasty and in Hue under the Nguyen dynasty. Another hostile force, in the form of a peasant rebellion led by three brothers from Tay Son, caused major disturbances and the massacres of both families in 1777. Nguyen Anh, a

young prince escaped the massacre with the help of a French priest, Bishop Pigneau, who then spent several years seeking assistance from any powers that might help him take back his country. The Thai provided aid, as did, eventu- ally, the French, even though they had troubles enough of their own as the French Revolution broke out in 1789. During the very summer of its outbreak, Nguyen Anh reoccupied Saigon, recaptured the southern provinces, and moved north, defeating his rivals. He captured Hue and Hanoi, unified the whole country, and reestablished his Nguyen dynasty at Hue. He was crowned emperor under the title of Gia Long.

Gia Long continued to protect Catholic Vietnamese and was on good terms with the French who had assisted his return to power. Bishop Pigneau became the foreign minister, and French advisors assisted in modernization of the army and the administration, which nevertheless retained its Confucian characteristics and remained in the control of the mandarin class. Gia Long’s successors, however, were more xenophobic as conversions to Catholicism con- tinued. In 1825 the emperor declared Christianity a “perverse religion which corrupts men’s hearts”; in the next decade seven French missionaries were exe- cuted; and in 1847 when Tu Duc came to the throne, concerted attacks on French missionaries began. By 1860, they had killed 25 European priests, 300 Vietnamese priests, and 30,000 Vietnamese Christians.

In the meantime, French explorers had been roaming up the Mekong into Cambodia and “discovered” Angkor and other fabulous ruins, which excited the imagination of French people back home, who began to dream of an Indo- chinese empire. The French, who were trying hard to keep up with British suc- cesses, may have cared more deeply about the fate of French missionaries than the increasingly secular French might otherwise have done. In 1859 they seized Saigon. Emperor Tu Duc at Hue was forced to sign a treaty ceding three prov- inces to France. In 1882 the French attacked Tonkin, took Hanoi, and then turned on Hue. The emperor had just died, and during the inevitable confusion of the transition, the Vietnamese were forced to negotiate away their indepen- dence. The central area of Vietnam, called Annam, became a protectorate of France, as did the northern region of Tonkin. But “Cochinchina”—the south- ern region around the Mekong Delta—was governed directly by France.

Cambodia

After the French took over the Hue dynasty in Annam (central Vietnam) in 1859, they claimed to be successors to every territory Annam had ever claimed. That included Cambodia. But Siam also claimed overlordship of Cambodia. Cambodian King Norodom was thus in a tricky position. He was being pulled in both directions.

On balance Norodom felt that Siam, a more ancient enemy, represented the greater danger. In fact, the first initiatives toward a French “protectorate” over Cambodia appear to have come from King Norodom’s father, King Ang Duong, before his death. Cambodia and France agreed that a French “Resi-

dent” would be established in the Cambodian court but that no other countries could have consuls there unless the French agreed. French citizens could settle in Cambodia, and Cambodians could settle anywhere throughout the French Empire. France would protect Cambodia from attack from the outside and would maintain order within Cambodia. French goods could move freely into the territory. French citizens would be ruled under their own laws by the princi- ple of extraterritoriality used in other European colonies and in China.

But the king of Siam threatened war if this treaty was signed. He viewed Cambodia as Siam’s protectorate; after all, only a few years earlier King Ang Duong had fled to Bangkok during a rebellion, taking with him the crown, the sacred sword, and the seal, which were the symbols of Cambodian monarchy. Moreover, Siam provided the troops that enabled Norodom to take back his throne—while retaining possession of the royal regalia that symbolized the legitimacy of the Cambodian state. While the French were getting signatures to the treaty with Cambodia in Paris, Norodom was trying to retrieve the royal regalia from Siam; they signed a secret treaty that acknowledged Siamese suzerainty and ceded several provinces that were under Siamese control. When the French found out about this, they put pressure on Siam and got back the crown, so that King Norodom could be crowned in 1864. This was the begin- ning of French rule in Cambodia.

Throughout the nineteenth century, the Siamese watched what was going on to the east and west of them with dismay. France continued to press inland against the Siamese in a series of diplomatic and military moves. In 1893 they sent a gunboat and an ultimatum to Bangkok; the British urged the Siamese to negotiate with France, and under this pressure, Siam ceded to France Laos and the whole east bank of the Mekong; they even evacuated the areas around Ang- kor. And thus French Indo-china was complete.

The great King Mongkut (Rama IV), a devout Buddhist and shrewd ruler who was determined to preserve the independence of Siam, was in a better position than Burmese, Vietnamese, or Cambodian rulers, each of whom had only a single, determined European power bearing down on them. Mongkut had the English on the west and the French on the east. Their mutual jealou- sies and frequent clashes could be manipulated in the interests of Siamese inde- pendence. He set about making treaties of friendship and commerce with all the European trading nations, giving them what they always wanted first: trade opportunities. By and large, this strategy worked, even though they were forced to cede Laos to the French, and also some Cambodian territories as well as sev- eral small areas to the British in Burma. But their strategy worked, and they were the single Southeast Asian nation to escape direct colonial control.

Mongkut’s son, Chulalongkorn, was brought up to be king in a world increasingly dominated by Europeans. He traveled widely in his youth, and by the time he came to the throne in 1868, he had a better understanding of Euro- pean culture and character than most Asians of his age. As Rama V, he insti- tuted important reforms, modernizing his country without needing colonial

powers to do it for him. He created a modern army; he built railroads, which opened up the interior to commercial development and assisted in extending the capital’s control over outlying provinces; and he reformed education and modernized the revenue system.

The Meiji Era

Late on a summer day in 1853, 20,000 troops belonging to the shogun looked helplessly out over Tokyo bay as four American ships dropped anchor. For 250 years, Japan had closed itself to foreign nations and dealt harshly with the occasional shipwrecked sailor or tentative call paid by a hopeful merchant ship. But these American ships, two of them steamers, all of them heavily armed, could not be resisted by the soldiers on the hillside. They could mow down the wooden residences and warehouses edging the bay. The Japanese would have to deal with the barbarians.

Japan had kept so successfully closed that Admiral Perry did not under- stand the power structure of the society he sought to visit. The ruler at Edo was the shogun, but Perry thought this was the emperor. With his keen sense of the ceremonial, Perry had himself welcomed ashore with his own Marine band in full dress; as a sign of the technological delights to be had through trade with Americans, he presented a working model of a railroad. Like the British in China, what he sought was a treaty of trade between his country and Japan. He was not allowed to see the shogun, so he left letters and gifts, stoked up the steam engines, and said he’d be back the following spring.

The commotion that followed was not entirely Perry’s doing, but his visit did usher in a 15-year period known as the bakumatsu, or “end of the shogun’s rule” (1853–1868). The Tokugawa dynasty was long past its prime, indecisive, rigid, and on the verge of bankruptcy. The energy of the samurai class of earlier time had dissipated as samurai were turned into urbanized bureaucrats whose swords had become merely precious ornaments and heirlooms, and their warrior lifestyle replaced by the martial arts. When Perry returned with eight ships and then nego- tiations stretched to four years, the weakness of the shogunate was on public view. Unable to make the decision himself, the shogun took the extraordinary step of circulating the draft of the treaty among the daimyo and asking for their opinions. They offered a mixed set of responses. Some saw potential good from limited and controlled trade with the West; others foresaw a dangerous future in which bar- barian commercial values would infect and corrupt samurai ones. In the end, the shogun signed a treaty much like those forced on China: certain port cities were designated treaty ports, customs duties were kept low, and resident Americans were governed under their own laws by the principle of extraterritoriality.

For many reflective Japanese—most of them from the privileged samurai class—the next decade was one of painful reevaluation of their own heritage. Most remained full of respect for the classical samurai ideals but did not see those ideals in evidence around them. The shogun’s ineffectualness embar-

rassed and angered them. Some began to turn to the emperor at Kyoto as still representing a spirit mostly lost in Edo. Many felt there were gains to be made by taking advantage of some of what the West represented—technological advance, surely, and especially in military technology—though they were ashamed at the weakness of the shogun in dealing with the foreigners. To the astonishment of many, the Imperial Court took the rare step of refusing to rat- ify the treaty and ordered the shogun to drive out the barbarians immediately. Although the court soon backed away from this posture, and the treaty was approved, the court’s initial reaction was a sign of the growing disaffection.

Some of the more belligerent domains mobilized against the shogun, led by Satsuma and Choshu in the south. And in less than a decade from Perry’s first arrival, two major overseas missions had taken Japanese to America, Europe, and China. Mid-century Europe and America had already been trans- formed by the industrial revolution. Japanese were shocked by what they saw. They were equally shocked by China, which had always been “Greece and Rome rolled into one” (as Alex Gibney puts it in his documentary “The Meiji Revolution”), incomparably behind the developments in the West, corrupt in late-Qing times, and overrun with Europeans who had turned the major coastal towns into European outposts.

On January 3, 1868, a successful coup brought an end to the shogunate and restored the emperor as head of state, thus ending the system of dual gov- ernment that had begun in 1185. The emperor, whose name was Mutsuhito, was only 16 years old. It was not his coup, and he was not destined actually to rule, but the transformation of Japanese society would be carried out in his name. Accompanied by thousands of his Japanese subjects, Mutsuhito was car- ried to Edo and given the name Meiji, meaning “Enlightened Rule.” Edo was renamed Tokyo, the “Kyoto of the East.”

The small cadre of elite samurai now set about to dismantle the social sys- tem of feudal Japan and create a modern nation-state. At that time, there were about 260 domains that were largely self-governing so long as they acknowl- edged the ultimate overlordship of the shogun. These domains were competi- tive and quarrelsome. People in the domains identified themselves first and foremost as people of Choshu or Tosa, not as Japanese, and their daimyo were powerful competitors with any potential central power. A Japanese state had to be built that was strongly centralized before the technological reforms that were also needed could be brought about.

Pressure was put on sympathetic daimyo to turn their lands over to the emperor who gave them high government posts as inducements. Other daimyo were declared to be governors acting under appointment by Tokyo; two years later their domains were turned into prefectures and the “governors” were replaced by administrators with new staffs. Care was taken to recruit men of talent from the former Tokugawa regime or from the old daimyo or samurai class, wherever good men could be found. The samurai were dismissed if they proved unassimilable into the new order.

Thus the daimyo were disinherited and the samurai class destroyed. Though there was resistance, most violently in the Satsuma Rebellion of 1877, the most remarkable feature of the era was how radically society could be altered and with relatively little loss of life. It was in part because the com- moner class of Japan, or chonin (city dwellers), had already achieved a degree of autonomy in the many castle towns that had sprung up in Tokugawa times. The disruptions of the early Meiji era thus affected them far less than they did the privileged classes they had worked free of. The urban economy had already moved forward into a market economy that would soon expand exponentially to their advantage. The new language of “freedom” and “people’s rights” rang true to them. When the Meiji Constitution was adopted in 1889—modeled not on the American or the French but on the German constitution of Bismarck— it was the first in Asia. In this, as in other ways, Japan led the way into the twentieth century.

REFERENCES CITED

Fay, Peter Ward. 1975. The Opium War, 1840–1842. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.

Gibney, Alex. 1992. The Meiji Revolution. The Pacific Century. Documentary. Pacific Basin Institute and KCTS-TV.

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Pombejra, Dhiravat. 1993. Ayutthaya at the End of the Seventeenth Century: Was There a Shift to Isolation? In Southeast Asia in the Early Modern Era; Trade, Power, and Belief, ed. Anthony Reid. Pp. 250–272. Cornell: Cornell University Press.

Said, Edward W. 1978. Orientalism. New York: Vintage Books.

Spence, Jonathan D. 1974. Emperor of China; Self Portrait of K’Ang-Hsi. London: Pimlico. Wallerstein, Immanuel. 1976. The Modern World-System: Capitalist Agriculture and the Ori- gins of the European World-Economy in the Sixteenth Century. New York: Academic Press.