The “Paika Rebellion” of 1817 in Orissa, India has been depicted by colonial officers as a local disturbance caused by the dissatisfaction of one powerful individual deprived of traditional privileges who instigated the pāikas. The nationalist reconstruction has depicted the event as a popular freedom movement involving various castes and classes of Orissan society. This has culminated in a current move to declare the “Paika Rebellion” the First Indian War of Independence. I would like to suggest a third perspective, which focuses on the heterogeneities and linkages of the Rebellion. It is important to note that the “Paika Rebellion” was a meeting point of plural genealogies: “tribal” revolts to protect autonomy, “peasant” resistance to secure livelihood, restorative attempts by the traditional landed class, and ruling class efforts to defend and expand authority. Appreciating the plural genealogies of the Rebellion leads to more perceptive understandings of the heterogeneous characteristics of popular movements and their aftermaths in modern India. Lastly, in order to go beyond colonial and dominant-caste centred perspectives, I propose that we name it the “Orissa Uprising of 1817”.

German journalist Jürgen Hinzpeter won the 2003 Song Kun-ho Press Award for his reporting of the 1980 Kwangju Uprising. He was also the subject of documentaries and the 2017 hit movie A Taxi Driver, which credit him as the first journalist to expose the Kwangju Uprising to the world. In fact, Hinzpeter was one of many journalists who revealed what had happened at Kwangju. Since the production of the 2003 documentary Hinzpeter – the Blue-Eyed Witness to May 1980, interest in the many other foreign journalists who covered Kwangju has been elided, raising the question of why only Hinzpeter's contribution is remembered and celebrated. Using ideas about historical memory developed by Paul Cohen, I argue that a narrative about Hinzpeter's actions in Kwangju has emerged, which has little to do with who first broke the news of the Kwangju Uprising. The story of Hinzpeter's relationship with the South Korean democratization movement as well as the film he shot of the moment Kwangju citizens seized power and established an alternative government to military rule – have become important weapons for the activist generation in an ongoing struggle over the memorialization of the Kwangju Uprising.

Within the Japanese Empire, the Manchukuo bureaucracy was unique for its high level of centralization and standardization. This study argues that Manchukuo's bureaucratic recruitment and training processes molded civil officials into a paramilitary force, dedicated to developmentalism and a radical belief in the transformative power of the state. It approaches the institutional and cultural development of the Manchukuo bureaucracy as an evolutionary process. As pan-Asian radicals, military officials, and reform bureaucrats competed for control of Japan's imperial project, their ideas and agendas merged into a hybrid system of bureaucratic management that served as a model for the wartime empire. Looking past the temporal juncture of August 1945, this study also foregrounds the legacy of the Manchukuo bureaucracy on postwar East Asia. Manchukuo's government institutions recruited and indoctrinated not just Japanese but Korean, Taiwanese, and other imperial subjects in the name of ethnic harmony. Back in their homelands, these men adapted to their experience and training into the foundations of developmental nationalism and authoritarian state structures during the Cold War.

Today, the modern value systems that once held sway have fallen apart, and people throughout the world are wandering in an aimless state. Amidst this, we are pressed to ask, “What kind of a new ethics might we construct?” We need to consider the possibility of an ethics that focuses on the religious view of humankind (previously ignored by modernity), that goes beyond this life, and includes the next life. In this article, I examine the way of being of bodhisattvas in Mahāyāna Buddhism via the Lotus Sutra. According to the Lotus Sutra, human existence is one that necessarily relates with the other, and this relationship is not confined to this life, but continues from past lives to future lives. Here, I refer to this as “bodhisattva as existence.” On this basis, it is possible to think of an ethics of “bodhisattva as praxis” that considers the benefit of others even after death. This view of bodhisattvas in the Lotus Sutra lives on in Japanese Buddhism and can be said to point to a new possibility for ethics today.