This article explores the local context of the prominence of Sufism and sanctity in the late medieval period (1250–1500) through an examination of the diffusion of the Qādirī spiritual path in the spatial frame of Palestine. The geographical spread of the major spiritual paths (ṭarīqas) and the emergence of their shaykhs as charismatic figures in the course of the late medieval period has received considerable attention by historians of Sufism. Although the study of the social historical dimensions of the universal evolution and its nuances and variations is in order, patiently asked questions remain open regarding the establishment of the ṭarīqas into locally embedded associations around charismatic shaykhs in particular historical and geographical settings, as well as the role local leaders of the ṭarīqas played in shaping a communities' life and space.

In Jumādā II 661/April 1263 the Mamlūk sultan al-Ẓāhir Baybars visited Jerusalem and undertook various pious works, including the erection of a public khān for lodging those visiting the Holy City. Unfortunately Baybars's khān has not survived and much speculation has been made regarding its location. The Arabic sources relating to Baybars's deeds provide a good deal of information relating to his khān, which, once combined with western sources and archaeological evidence, allows us to suggest its probable site, its architectural type, and even range of services.

After Aden came under British rule (1839) its Jewish community was reinforced by Jewish immigrants from inland Yemen and also from other Middle Eastern countries. Some of the Adeni Jews, most of them British subjects, entered the Indian-British commercial network and expanded it to East Africa, mainly to Ethiopia, founding commercial strongholds there. From the late nineteenth century, Jews coming from Yemen joined the existing Adeni settlements.

This paper compares the reasons for the emigration to Ethiopia of Adeni Jews and Yemeni Jews, and their economic and social status under Italian colonial regime (established in Eritrea in the 1880s). It discusses relations between these Jews, which it argues, were determined by the position of each group in the colonial hierarchy, and by the necessity of sustaining religious-communal life. Thus, in spite of their shared Yemeni origin and attendance at the same communal institutions, ethnicity and religion proved weaker than social and economic considerations, and the two groups cultivated a separate identity.

Using university archives and library catalogues as well as letters and diaries belonging to the Schultens, a Dutch family that produced three generations of outstanding Arabists in the 18th Century, this article looks at the circumstances surrounding the purchase of some annotated dictionaries and manuscripts by Leiden University Library.

When historians explain the end of empires, they often follow a ‘decline and fall’ paradigm which owes its fame to Edward Gibbon's great book on the Roman Empire. Recent historians of Late Antiquity, however, have tended to doubt its validity. This article considers the reasons for the end of the Mongol Empire of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. It examines the division of the empire into four khanates, the eventual collapse of each of which is then studied. It suggests that the khanates which retained more of their original nomadic ethos – the Golden Horde in the Pontic steppes and the Chaghatai Khanate in Central Asia – were able to survive longer than those – in the Ilkhanate in Persia and the Great Khanate in China and Mongolia – which had their centres in sedentary lands. It concludes that in all cases, ‘fall’ was the result of internal factors, about which there was nothing that was inevitable, and that there is little evidence of a long ‘decline’. Hence the ‘decline and fall’ paradigm does not seem to provide an adequate explanatory framework.

Iraq in the tenth and eleventh centuries witnessed a flowering of Shiite cultural production with lasting effects on the Islamic sciences such as law, hadith, theology, and Qur'anic commentary. The works of al-Shaykh al-Mufīd (d. 413/1022), al-Sharīf al-Murtaḍā (d. 436/1044), and al-Shaykh al-Ṭūsī (d. 460/1067) not only broke significant new ground in Shiite intellectual history and defended Shiite doctrinal positions against opponents, but also set parameters for production in these fields that would remain in effect, grosso modo, until modern times. During the same period, Shiite authors made substantial contributions to fields not directly related to Shiite religious doctrine, playing a crucial role in elaborating and preserving Islamic heritage in general. Al-Masʿūdī's (d. 345/956) famous history Murūj al-dhahab and Abū al-Faraj al-Iṣfahānī's (d. 356/967) collection of songs, poetry, and associated lore, Kitāb al-Aghānī, are prominent examples of Shiite authors' contributions to general Arabo-Islamic cultural production. Arguably yet more important is the Fihrist, composed in Baghdad in 377-378 ah/987-988 ce by Ibn al-Nadīm, an Imāmī Shiite bookseller. This work, a comprehensive catalogue of Arabic book titles, is widely recognised as one of the most important sources for the history of all learned disciplines recorded in Arabic in the course of the first four Islamic centuries. As a consequence, the present understanding of entire swaths of Islamic intellectual history, including the rise and development of Muʿtazilī theology and the translation of the Greek sciences into Arabic, is heavily indebted to a Shiite author.

The Mughal Empire is paradigmatic in many of its formulations, and it is epitomised in the persons of its first six padshahs or emperors. The Great Mughals, Grao Mogor, Grand Mogul, Großmogul or Groote Mogul, as the padshahs were known in Europe, have been considered as paragons of rulership. In critical appraisals, which were the prevailing view in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, they were the quintessential Oriental despots, held up as a warning to those rulers in Europe with similar aspirations. One thinks here especially of Francois Bernier's letters of the Mughal court to his French contacts which included Colbert, the minister of Louis XIV (r. 1643-1715). In more sympathetic (and more recent) eyes, such as those of the world-traveller, philosopher and enthusiastic inter-culturalist Count Hermann Keyserling, who was in India in 1911, they were “the grandest rulers brought forth by mankind”. Keyserling came to this conclusion because the Mughals “combined in their personalities so many divers talents: they were men of action, refined diplomats, experienced judges of the human psyche, and at the same time aesthetes and dreamers”. He felt that such a “superior human synthesis” (grossartige Menscheitsynthese) had not shown itself in any European king. Here I discuss to what extent the emperor Jahangir fulfilled Francis Bacon's ideal of the perfect ruler.

The Mughal emperors of India were remarkably mobile kings, inspiring modern historians to describe their imperial court culture as ‘peripatetic’. While the Mughals were not immune to the impulse to construct massive urban architect, no Mughal city, no matter how splendid, innovative, accessible or enlightened, remained the imperial centre for long. Through generations of Mughal rule in India, the political relevance of Mughal imperial cities continued to be very limited; it was physical mobility which remained at the centre of Mughal imperial court life and, for much of the Mughal period, the imperial court was encapsulated in the physical presence of the king.

The Oeconomy of Human Life purports to be an English translation of an ancient Indian text found by a Chinese scholar in Lhasa. Almost certainly written by Robert Dodsley (1704–1764), the book became an eighteenth-century bestseller. This article discusses its place in the varied lineage of western images of Asia, beginning with Alexander the Great's encounter with a group of ‘naked philosophers’ in India. It argues that the key features of the Oeconomy are representative of the Enlightenment period, with at best tenuous links to Tibet, India and China. However, it also belongs to a much broader literary tradition with deep roots and unexpected contemporary resonances.

Although practicing Buddhists and historians of Tibet are well aware of the Ra Mo Che Temple in Lhasa, very little about the building and its history has been published. Situated a short distance north-west of the more-famous Ra Sa gTsug Lag Khang or Jo Khang, the temple received, according to the dBa' bZhed, the Buddha image brought to Tibet in the time of the Tang princess Ong Jo. Early in the reign of Khri Srong lDe bTsan, while the king was still in his minority, anti-Buddhist factions led by Zhang Ma Zham Khrom Pa sKyes circumscribed royal power and murdered the pro-Buddhist minister Zhang sNa Nam Khri Thong rJe Thang la ‘Bar. They also arranged for the image at Ra Mo Che to be removed from the temple. The plan was to return the Buddha to China, along with the head priest and his entourage. The statue's great weight, however, thwarted the scheme. After being dragged a short distance, the Buddha was left half-buried in the earth. The state of affairs in those days is indicated by dBa' bZhed which reports that the Lhasa vihāra was turned into a workshop with sheep carcasses hung from the arms of the principal holy images and entrails wound round their necks! After Buddhism was reinstated, the Ra Mo Che was returned to worship. Subject to campaigns of refurbishment and additions through the centuries, it was the centre of a number of important developments, notably becoming the seat of the upper Tantric college (rGyud sTod) established by rJe bTsun Kun dGa' Don Drub in 1474.

This essay examines the growing crisis of authority in the Muslim world of the past two hundred years. It is a crisis set in motion by the challenges of Western domination, intensified by those of globalisation, and exacerbated by Muslim attempts to resist them. It is a crisis which has pervaded all aspects of Muslim life, but one which has been felt particularly in the religious arena. Focussing initially on how authoritative religious knowledge was established and sustained down to c. 1800, the essay goes on to examine how this system broke down. It demonstrates the fragmentation of authority as new methods of interpretation emerge, as lay interpreters come forward to challenge the ʿulama, and as the individual human conscience comes to be given an increasingly important role. Consideration is also given to the growth of primary and higher education, the emergence of new electronic media, and the transnational movements of Muslims. The outcome has been the growth of a ‘spectacularly wild growth of interpretation’. It remains an open question as to whether this development is a cause for despair or a source of hope.

By correlating literary evidence, avian ethology and neurophysiology I will try to demonstrate why Vālmīki chose a pair of Sārus Cranes, and not any other avian species, to epitomise grief and sorrow in the Rāmāyaṇa. This choice illustrates the importance of personal experience of the living reality (behaviour of Sārus Cranes); but the grief, śoka, as experienced by Vālmīki, became in later critical literature, the rasa of karuṇa, the aesthetic appreciation of grief, as suggested by Ānandavardhana and explained by Abhinavagupta. By emphasising the central importance of affective states (sthāyibhāvas) in life as well as in the arts (rasas) Vālmīki, Abhinavagupta and Ānandavardhana appear to have had a perception of the human condition that is consistent with recent developments in affective neuroscience; and thus it is the pitch and the tonal quality of the cries of grief that convey the depth and universality (sādhāraṇatva) of the emotion.

This article applies a synthetic approach of philological, religious, philosophical, and cultural studies to explore the original meaning of the terms dao 道 and de 德, two primary concepts in traditional Chinese intellectual history. Through an etymological analysis of the characters dao and de, and supported by both received and discovered texts and materials, this article demonstrates that dao originally represented the spirit of the Pole Star/High God and the movement of Heaven, and de, in relation to dao, originally represented the impartial virtue and power of Heaven. In terms of this new interpretation, the article further discusses the signification of dao and de in the Laozi to uncover the mystic aspects of the text.

This article discusses the Mongol approach to warfare, then goes on to consider the Mongols' conversion to the notion that they would have to develop a siege train, since walled cities cannot easily be taken by a cavalry charge. The contribution of Chinese siege engineers is discussed, and there is a survey of Chinese siege techniques as they evolved before the Mongol period. The author considers the evidence for the use of inflammable materials, and then moves to the question of gunpowder. The widespread (not quite universal) consensus that the Chinese used gunpowder is discussed, and then attention moves to Hulegu's expedition to western Asia in the 1250s. It is pointed out that none of the major sources seems to imply the use of anything that might be construed as gunpowder technology during those campaigns. Lastly, the author considers, in some detail, sieges conducted by the Ilkhanid Mongols against Mamluk border strongholds during the succeeding decades, drawing attention to and explaining those sieges' increasing lack of success.

Between 1922 and 1953, the German-Dutch Catholic Congregation Societas Verbi Divini, SVD, also known as the Divine Word Missionaries or Steyl Missionaries, sent approximately 90 missionaries to Northwest China. During these three decades, the Divine Word Missionaries established some 30 missionary stations (plus about 100 out-stations) in Gansu, Qinghai and Xinjiang.

One of the most influential European printed sources on South-East Asia at the turn of the eighteenth century was the Scottish sea-captain Alexander Hamilton's memoirs. The picture he paints of the Portuguese communities that had existed since the period of Portuguese ascendancy in the sixteenth century is overwhelmingly negative. But a close textual and empirical analysis of his text shows that not only was he frequently misinformed in terms of the historical developments relating to that community, but that he merely conforms to a set of standard rhetorical tropes we can associate with the Black Legend, which had grown up in Protestant countries of northern Europe since the 16th century to denigrate Portugal and her achievements. This article urges that this key text consequently be used with far greater circumspection than has hitherto been the case.

Tràng An is a Vietnamese government supported cultural and ecological park development covering 2,500 hectares that is centred on an isolated massif on the southern edge of the Song Hong delta in Ninh Bình Province, north Vietnam (Fig. 1). The archaeological investigation of Tràng An is being led jointly by the Xuan Truong Construction Corporation and the McDonald Institute for Archaeological Research, University of Cambridge, under the direction of the lead author. The Corporation is creating an ecologically sensitive development – the ‘Tràng An Tourism Resort’ – within this karstic landscape, which is also the subject of a planned application to UNESCO for World Heritage Site status. International involvement in this work has been at the behest of Nguyêń Van Truong, the General Director of Xuan Truong and at the invitation of the Ninh Bình People's Committee. The research itself is carried out under the guidance of Nguyêń Van Son, the Tràng An Tourism Resort Project Manager. The main focus of the May 2007 season was to undertake excavations at the site of Hang Boi (the ‘Fortune-Teller's Cave’).

This article examines over 200 years (1761–1963) of China's relations with the Central Asian tribal state of Hunza. Employing a territorial genealogical approach, this research explores how Hunza, not initially recognised during the high Qing as an inner dependency or vassal, was gradually re-conceptualised by the Qing court as a historical tributary protectorate, and then in the Republican and Nationalist eras became known as a ‘lost territory’ ripe for restoration. It will also argue that the tributary system is not a dynastic legacy that ceased to function after 1911; but rather, it was an instrument of political expediency that continued to be used in the post-imperial era. In a sense, this research offers a new thinking about the ‘tribute system’ which might really be a nineteenth and twentieth century reinterpretation of an older form of symbolically asymmetric interstate relations (common in one form or another throughout many parts of Asia); this reinterpretation was strongly informed by English-language terminology and formulations, including ‘suzerainty’ and the mistranslation of ‘gong’ as ‘tribute’ itself, and both Britain and China manipulated the terminology and claimed to further their respective territorial, diplomatic and strategic interests.

This article first briefly examines the textual structure of the Brāhmaṇa Saṃyutta of the Pāli Saṃyutta-nikāya in conjunction with two other versions preserved in Chinese translation in Taishō vol. 2, nos 99 and 100. Then it compares the main teachings contained in the three versions. These three versions of this collection on the subject of the Brāhmaṇas represent three different early Buddhist schools within the Sthavira branch. This comparative study of these three different versions focuses on three major topics: the outcaste, the dharmas that are good for a layperson, and alms. It reveals similarities and significant differences in structure and doctrinal content, thus advancing the historical/critical study of early Buddhist doctrine in this area.