On May 19, 2009, the president of Sri Lanka, Mahinda Rajapaksa, dressed in his traditional white sarong and shirt, solemnly addressed Parliament: “The writ of the state now runs across every inch of our territory … we have completely defeated terrorism.” The same day, photographs of the corpse of the ruthless rebel leader Vellupillai Prabhakaran adorned all of the local newspapers. With his death, the secessionist war was over—this endless war that had pitted the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) against the security forces of the government of Sri Lanka since 1983. It had sunk deep into the psyche of the people of all communities, and its terrible violence had elicited much international attention and reprimand. President Rajapaksa then addressed his citizens in the Tamil language, promising reconciliation and embracing the Tamil-speaking people in his program of recovery for the ravaged North. A “northern spring” would soon come. On the streets of Colombo, there was a feeling of trepidation, while celebrations, some spontaneous and others orchestrated by sycophantic politicians, peppered the capital. The day had been given as a special holiday for the war-weary people to celebrate by eating kiribath (milk rice) and launching (peaceful) rockets, as fireworks are commonly called. People waved the Lion Flag and compared the president to the famous second-century bce Sinhalese hero Dutugemunu, another son of the Ruhuna (Southern Sri Lanka) who succeeded in conquering Anuradhapura from the Tamil king Elara, whom he famously slew with a dart. King Dutugemunu has long been a folk hero in Sri Lanka for uniting the country under a single rule.

This Presidential Address explores Korean Buddhist travel undertaken for religious training, missionary propagation, and devotional pilgrimage. By traveling to India and throughout East Asia, as well as to the mythic undersea bastion of the faith, Koreans demonstrated their associations with the wider world of Buddhist culture, whether it be terrestrial or cosmological. Simultaneous with continued travel overseas to the Chinese mainland and the Buddhist homeland of India, Koreans also brought those sacred sites home through a wholesale remapping of the domestic landscape. As local geography became universalized, there was less need for the long, dangerous journeys overseas to Buddhist sacred sites: instead, the geography of Buddhism became implicit within the indigenous landscape, turning Korea into the Buddha-land itself. Once this “relocalization” of Buddhism had occurred, Korean Buddhists were able to travel through the sacred geography of Buddhism from the (relative) comfort of their own locale.

This article looks at efforts to revitalize “tradition” (in Indonesian, adat) among the Tobelo people in the eastern Indonesian province of North Maluku in the aftermath of the ethnic and religious violence that swept the region in 1999–2001. It examines how some groups in Tobelo society are attempting to revive previously marginalized adat practices as a way to facilitate reconciliation between Muslim and Christian communities. Those involved in these efforts believe that a revitalization of adat will shift people's focus of identity from their religion—the focus of the recent conflict—to their ethnicity. They hope this shift in focus will transcend religious differences. The paper explores these attempts to articulate Tobelo tradition and Tobelo identity in order to prevent future violence. It also discusses the rationales and historical justifications for seeing adat as a mechanism for reconciliation and conflict prevention.

This essay is a first attempt at examining the origins and development of Chinese complaint systems before 1900, so as to understand the nature and character of this institution in historical perspective. The essay argues that the Chinese complaint system originated as an informal system in the pre-Han period and developed gradually from the late Han to the Sui. The Tang first institutionalized such a system and distinguished three major forms of complaints: direct, jumping, and gradual appeals. Subsequent states generally followed the Tang model but also made significant changes. Chinese rulers, deeply influenced by the Confucian concept of minben (people as the foundation of the state) and by notions of heaven–human interaction (tianren ganying), tended to accept illegal appeals no matter how annoying they were for fear that any grievance might prompt heavenly punishments, while complainants regarded their appeals as a natural right no matter how useless they were. In this way, the complaint system become a hot potato for rulers that was too hot to hold but too valuable to drop.

This article offers an explanation for disparities in the speed and level of political opposition to reform of the financial services sector in India. Focusing on the disparity of outcomes in reform of the insurance and the banking sector, the author suggests why some barriers to entry were present in India during the reform process. The author extends this argument to explain differing levels of political opposition to reform in the banking and insurance sectors. To provide empirical support for this theoretical construct, the author uses measures of market segmentation and market concentration to show how specific forms of state ownership helped promote divergent types of political opposition that built in India during the decision-making stage of reform and during the implementation of second-generation reforms. The experience of financial services reform in India offers important lessons for the new institutional economics literature on early transition elsewhere.

How to best maintain public goods under conditions of chronic resource shortage and insufficient state administrative capacity is a challenge for nearly all developing states. This article concentrates on a range of attempted reforms in China's forestry sector in the 1990s. It first evaluates the dynamics of long-standing “leakiness” in forestry conservation initiatives. After a set of major floods in 1998, major uncertainties remained as to how to effectively implement conservation initiatives, given systemic underfunding and patchy administrative supervision from higher levels. The article then argues that higher (central and provincial) levels of the state have employed measures substantially unchanged since late imperial times: (1) the partial rationalization and extension of formal bureaucratic systems of direct control, and (2) the manipulation of moral incentives through exhortation and appeals to a complex trope of “cadre quality,” concluding that subjective notions of moral “character” in local leadership can combine with objective economic and infrastructural factors to either support or undercut central state initiatives.

Debates on the nature of the Chinese writing system, particularly whether Chinese characters may or may not legitimately be called “ideographs,” continue to bedevil Chinese studies. This paper considers examples of what are referred to as “discourses of character fetishization,” whereby an inordinate status is discursively created for Chinese characters in the interpretation of Chinese language, thought, and culture. The author endeavors to analyze and critique the presuppositions and implications of such discourses, with the aim of defusing the passions that have been aroused by this issue, and showing the way toward a more comprehensive and grounded understanding of the nature of Chinese characters, both as a writing system and in relation to Chinese culture and thought.

With the death of Clifford Geertz (1926–2006), both anthropology and Asian studies lost one of their most prominent, influential, and wide-ranging figures, as many obituaries and retrospective assessments of his life and work have noted (see, e.g., the unusually thoughtful and balanced one by Sherry Ortner, 2007). For more than forty years, Geertz's books and articles had a profound impact on his own discipline and on many neighboring ones, and though he dealt at length with other parts of the world, from Morocco (the subject of some of his fieldwork) to the United States (he sometimes turned his gaze to the rituals of his own culture), he often wrote about Southeast Asia, and Indonesia in particular. In terms of topics, he made major contributions to general debates on how to study history and culture, and to more specific discussions of issues such as the path that Islam took into and through individual nation-states.