The Parsi Sanskrit Yasna, attributed to Nēryōsangh, presupposes a sophisticated philological system that features historical, religious, and cultural elements. This philological system, developed in a multicultural environment, reflects both the Zoroastrian tradition and contemporary Indian society. Centuries later, Eugène Burnouf effectively utilised the same system to make significant advances in comparative Indo-Iranian studies. This article examines Burnouf’s philological approach and his rediscovery and revival of the original philological system of the Sanskrit Yasna, thanks to a multilingual and multicultural scope that allowed him to understand the text and draw important comparative patterns from it. The article emphasises the importance of multidisciplinary studies to fully explore the historical implications of the philological system, urging us to revisit its methodology in light of current knowledge and technology.

The shuhūr sanah, also called the Shuhur era, was a solar calendar used in Deccan India in the pre-modern and early modern periods. Scholars have long assumed that the calendar was instituted in the early fourteenth century, sometime in 1344–1345 CE, although, to date, no primary evidence from the fourteenth century has been examined to substantiate this inaugural date or explain the circumstances that led to the genesis of the calendar. In the present article, I discuss a 1333–1334 CE Persian epigraph from Daulatabad that uses the phrase shuhūr sanah and argue that the calendar was instituted during a period of economic, administrative, and agricultural uncertainty in the reign of the Delhi Sultan Muhammad bin Tughluq (r. 1325–1351). In so doing, I re-date the inauguration of the calendar to a decade prior to what has been assumed thus far and posit a new theory about the calendar’s longevity in the Deccan. More broadly, I examine the historiography and the historical usage of the Shuhur era in the Persianate epigraphic corpus. The survey reveals how the Shuhur era was used to make public-facing pronouncements and also clarifies the limits of the calendar’s usage. The calendar was popular in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries; after this period, it was phased out by other calendrical systems preferred by the Mughal (1526–1857) and the Maratha (1674–1818) empires, who came to control the Deccan.

The Song of Songs—a biblical celebration of love and desire—holds a unique place in literary history, revered not only for its religious significance, but also for its poetic beauty. Early Chinese translations of this biblical book struggled to resonate with local audiences until the release of the Delegates’ Version, which is acclaimed as the first Chinese Bible that can truly be regarded as a work of Chinese literature. The Song of Songs in the Delegates’ Version, titled Yage 雅歌 (The Refined Song), undergoes a noticeable acculturation in which its imagery and themes are intricately woven into the fabric of Chinese literary tradition. This article explores how this biblical love song has been recontextualised to resonate with Chinese cultural and literary sensibilities. By examining the portrayal of lovers, the nature of love, and the poetic resonance established through the integration of verses from the Shijing in the Yage, it highlights the intricate interplay between biblical text and Chinese literature. Ultimately, this study reveals that, while the Bible shapes the life of its community, it is also shaped by the cultural and linguistic contexts in which it is translated.

This article examines historical perceptions of the territorial extent of Bod, the Tibetan toponym for ‘Tibet’. In a bid to establish what area second-millennium authors (and audiences) may have pictured when this toponym was invoked, we analyse instructive passages from five historiographical works, mostly dating from between the twelfth and seventeenth centuries. The rough-hewn maps of Bod ‘Tibet’ that emerge from this procedure differ quite radically from one work to the next, and at times even between different passages from a single source. While one work may see ‘Tibet’ as the territory directly centered on the Tibetan Plateau’s south-central river valleys, another source may forward an image of a ‘Tibet’ that is thrice as large. Works may also allow for shifts in its borders from one political period to the next, or incorporate multiple incongruous territorial descriptions. This material helps answer what ‘Tibet’ meant in different periods and places, and to different people—questions that have only poorly been studied outside of modern political history. One relevant finding, among others, is that the notion of a ‘Tibet’ that covers a large part of the Tibetan Plateau, incorporating for instance sites in contemporary eastern Qinghai, was not in fact a modern innovation.

This study examines the life and multifaceted legacy of Veled Çelebi İzbudak (1869–1953)—a Mevlevi sheikh, Ottoman bureaucrat, and key figure in Turkish linguistic reform. Positioned at the intersection of tradition and shifting sociopolitical dynamics, İzbudak’s career exemplifies how Sufi intellectuals actively engaged with and negotiated the ideological and administrative transformations from the late Ottoman empire to the early Turkish republic. By situating İzbudak within the broader historical transformations of his era, the article highlights his engagement with significant reforms, such as the closure of Sufi lodges (1925) and the language reform (1928), revealing his dual role as a preserver of religious heritage and a proponent of modern state-building initiatives. Through an analysis of his memoirs, writings, and official correspondence, this research uncovers how İzbudak reconciled his Sufi commitments with the nationalist ideals of the republic, emphasising his advocacy for Turkish linguistic preservation as a bridge between Ottoman Sufi legacies and the emerging cultural identity of modern Turkiye. Challenging the reductive portrayal of Sufi figures as passive in the face of reform, the study argues that İzbudak exemplifies the nuanced agency of Sufi bureaucrats, offering a deeper understanding of their contributions to cultural, linguistic, and political transformations during a pivotal period in Turkish history.

Unlike in other contexts and regions in India, servants/slaves in Goan homes (in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries) received inordinate attention from European non-Portuguese travellers. They provided disturbing descriptions of Goan households and the violence inflicted on the subalterns. Slave ownership in the Portuguese empire was both an economic imperative and a problem for moral theology in Europe and overseas. Although slavery was not at the centre of the debate, it contributed to the construction of the ‘Black Legend’ of Portuguese colonialism in Asia. It nourished the complaint regarding moral dissoluteness due to the mixing of population and economic corruption of the Portuguese imperial institutions. The argument was that the Portuguese intermarried and consequently started closely resembling gentiles, some of whom they first enslaved. By looking into three types of archival documents, I discuss slavery/servitude in Goan households: 1) in the legal and moral framework for the ‘just’ slave society debated by ecclesiastics, 2) as it was seen and represented by foreign travellers, 3) and in the seventeenth-century history rewriting of elite Goan Christian theologians obsessed with the purity of blood of their ancestors.

This article examines the earliest known corpus of Chinese poetry written in the Spanish Philippines, preserved in Diego de Rueda y Mendoza’s Relación verdadera de las exequias funerales (1625), composed to commemorate the death of King Philip III. Among the numerous multilingual tributes collected in the manuscript, six poems were authored by members of the Sangley (Chinese) community in Manila—some Christianised, others gentile—marking a significant moment in the history of transcultural mourning, poetic diplomacy, and Chinese literary expression in a colonial Iberian setting. Three of the poems are written in classical Chinese and exhibit sophisticated Buddhist and literary references; the other three, composed in Spanish by Sangley authors, reflect a hybridised voice grounded in baroque rhetorical tradition. Rueda’s accompanying prose ‘translation’ of the Chinese poems reveals both a willingness to engage Chinese expression and a limited understanding of its linguistic and cultural nuances. This study offers a close reading of the Chinese poems, demonstrating how they employ imagery rich in Buddhist meaning, reflecting the Chinese cultural understanding of imperial rulership. It also compares these verses to their Spanish counterparts and Rueda’s summaries, revealing both overlap and erasure. The article argues that these poems, far from being mere colonial curiosities, testify to the complex cultural agency of Manila’s Chinese community and challenge dominant narratives of Hispanisation. Ultimately, the manuscript preserves a unique instance of literary and political negotiation that sheds light on the layered identities of early modern Chinese in the Philippines.

To this day, Wajid ‘Ali Shah (1822–1887), the last nawab of Awadh, is remembered either as a hedonist and political failure who was forced to surrender his kingdom to the British East India Company or as a musical genius and important patron of the arts. However, few accounts engage with his personal religiosity and public acts of Shī’ah piety. This article examines Wajid ‘Ali Shah’s own scholarship and poetry, and considers his mourning practices and investment in rites relating to Muharram. By focusing on the era of his exile in Calcutta (1856–1887), I explore how these rituals integrated the nawab into the public life of the city. More broadly, this article considers his court’s activities as a case study to explore the history of nineteenth-century Shī’ah sound art practices and examine how instrumentation, oratory, and processions were understood by contemporary Muslim scholars of religion, the arts, and music.

In 1804, an elder courtier named Ban’deyri Hasan Manikufaanu (1745–1807) chronicled the sea voyage of the sovereign of the Maldives, Sultan Muhammad Mueenuddeen I (r. 1799–1835). The purpose of the voyage was to visit the islands of Ari Atoll. Manikufaanu crafted 171 verses according to the rules of a Maldivian genre of poetry called raivaru. The work is known as Dhivehi Arumaadhu Raivaru (‘Raivaru that chronicled the journey of the Maldivian royal fleet’). In this article, I demonstrate how the verses provide a lens into early nineteenth-century Maldivian boat construction, court music, navigational routes, regnal travel, royal ensigns, sailing, and seamanship, all of which have not been sufficiently explored in Indian Ocean studies. In contrast to scholarship on travelogues that emphasises Muslim men’s experiences of heterotopia when they travelled across the Indian Ocean on steamships to maritime ports, this article centres on a provincial journey of a royal fleet of sailing ships taken by the sultan of the Maldives and other noblemen to visit Maldivian commonfolk who lived on islands that formed part of an atoll in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

The Annan Protectorate was an administrative division established by the Tang Dynasty in northern Vietnam during the era of Northern Domination, spanning from 679 to 907. Prior to 679, as the Tang Dynasty began its rule in Jiaozhou, governance was initially organised as the Jiaozhou General Administration (622–624) and later as the Jiaozhou Area Command (624–679). From the establishment of the Annan Protectorate until 757, it was locally administered as one of the five defence commands within the Lingnan Circuit. After 757, Annan came under the authority of the military commissioner (jiedushi) of Lingnan until 862, when the Lingnan Circuit was divided into East and West Circuits, placing Annan under the Lingnan West Circuit. In 866, the Jinghai Military Command was established in Annan, marking its role as a frontier defence command (fangzhen). In terms of bureaucracy, from 679 to 866, the Annan Protectorate was led by a protector general, with a frontier commissioner appointed during times of rebellion or unrest. From 866 to 907, the head official held the title of jiedushi, while also retaining the role of protector general.

This article enquires into pseudonymous Persian texts in South Asia as devices to domesticate non-Muslim technical knowledge and to legitimate the status of a Muslim professional group that emerged from interaction with the Indian natural and social environment. In the Risāla-yi kursī-nāma-yi mahāwat-garī—an illustrated text on the elephant and the elephant keeper, claimed to be authored by one of Noah’s grandsons—the aforementioned profession (acquired from Indian society) is Islamised by making it congruent with the Muslim view of scientific and technical professions as practices dating back to the prophets of Islam. The Kursī-nāma is examined from the perspective of the function of the pseudonymous text and of how its social context shaped the expected function. What does this form of writing tell us, whether deliberately or not, about its hidden authors and their environment? The fictional narrative of the Kursī-nāma is a stratagem that grants new canonicity to a critical subject. From being cursed in the Qur’an, mahout became a respectable occupation in Mughal India due to its close association with royal power. In the Kursī-nāma, the creation of a sacred genealogical tree (kursī-nāma) of the profession and an Islamic ritual associated with it were meant to control and claim authority within both the groups of mahouts and their social environment. From this point of view, the Kursī-nāma constitutes a unique source for investigating the ascension of a professional group and its search for social legitimation.