The development of the Prester John legend and matters associated with it are complex, and no significant work of book length in English has appeared on the subject since V. Slessarev's Prester John. The Letter and the Legend (1959). The recent publication of a collection of texts and interpretive essays will therefore be warmly welcomed. The texts are among those published by Zarncke in the Abhandlungen der königlichen sāchsischen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften, vii (1879), and include the famous “letter” of Prester John, together with a note by Hamilton on additional Latin manuscripts that have since come to light. The essays comprise both reprints of work that has appeared over the past five decades and six fresh studies that now see the light of day for the first time.

In Rajasthan, one of the north-western states of India, whoever has heard of the Kāmaḍ (or Kāmaḍiyā) would define them as wandering minstrels or jugglers, singing hymns in praise of Bābā Rāmdeo, a famous saint from Mārwāṛ, whose footprints they worship. Most people could not say much more about this community of religious singers who, since Independence, have been listed among the “scheduled castes”. In any case, everybody seems to be aware of their connection with Rāmdeo, a famous folk deity, also popular in Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh, now venerated by devotees of all castes and creeds, but mostly by Hindus, as an avatār of Vishnu-Krishna.

Luri is an Indo-Iranian language cluster with over four million speakers. The Luri ethnic area is found in southwestern Iran and southeastern Iraq, although smaller numbers of speakers have emigrated to elsewhere in Asia and a number of cities in the West.

IN the year 1405 (a.d. 1098, a.h. 472), fifty-one years after the Turks had conquered these lands, when Alexius was emperor in Constantinople, the Turk Yághí-Siyán (Aksin) had been made governor of Antioch by Abu 'l Fatḥ, the Egyptian Afḍal was in Jerusalem, which he had taken from the Turks Suqmán and his brothers, the sons of Ortuk, two years before, and all the sea-coast was subject to the Egyptians, Theodore Kurbalát the son of Hátim was in Edessa, which he had saved from the Turks, expecting to hand it over to the emperor. At this time many kings and chiefs of the Franks with a big army and workmen of all sorts, thousands and tens of thousands without end, got ready. There were four kings, leaders of armies, Bohemund, Godfrey (Gufra, Gundafra), Saint Gilles, and Tancred (Tangri) with many bishops and monks. They set their faces to go by land through Greek territory, and to cross by the Hellespont, where is Constantinople, and the two seas are joined by a narrow strait. They sent ambassadors to Alexius to prepare and go out with them, to get ready what was needful, and to arrange throughout his land stores of food and fodder for the use of the army. Alexius promised to help them in all they needed.

The nucleus of the present article was meant in the first instance to be added as a note to a chronological list of definitions of the terms ‘Ṣúfí’ and ‘Taṣawwuf’ chiefly compiled from the Risála of Qushayrí (Cairo, 1287 a.h.), the Tadhkiratu'l-Awliyá of Farídu'ddín ‘Aṭṭár (cited as T.A.), and the Nafaḥátu'l-Uns of Jámí (Calcutta, 1859). These works contain about a hundred definitions of ‘Ṣúfí’ and ‘Taṣawwuf,’ none of which exceeds a few lines in length. I thought that it might be interesting, and possibly instructive, to arrange the most important in their chronological sequence, so far as that can be determined, since only in this way are they capable of throwing any light upon the historical development of Ṣúfiism. The result, however, was somewhat meagre. Taken as a whole, those brief sentences which often represent merely a single aspect of the thing defined, a characteristic point of view, or perhaps a momentarily dominant mood, do undoubtedly exhibit the gradual progress of mystical thought in Islam from the beginning of the third to the end of the fourth century after the Hijra, but the evidence which they supply is limited to a vague outline. Accordingly, I resolved to undertake a chronological examination of the doctrine taught by the authors of these definitions and by other distinguished Ṣúfís, and I have here set down the conclusions to which I have come. I do not claim to have exhausted all the available material.

This article consists of a short Introduction enumerating the oldest documents in Modern Persian, and of a decipherment of a deed from Khotan (501/1107) and of some private documents from Bāiyan (6077/1211).

Since the creation of its first disciplinary histories in the late nineteenth century, Near Eastern archaeology has perceived its origins largely in terms of individual breakthroughs, following the common precepts of a pre-Annales historiography. The founding figures mentioned in the works of Rogers, Hilprecht, Budge or Parrot were either great explorers, great scholars or, most importantly, great excavators. From Della Valle's first tentative explorations at Babylon in 1616 to the major excavations at Nineveh and Babylon three centuries later, Near Eastern archaeology saw itself as the fruit of individual discovery. ‘Real’ archaeology was furthermore perceived as a natural rather than a human science and subsequently taken to have originated in nineteenth-century positivism; earlier accounts were hinted at in only the briefest fashion.

South of Arṣūf-Apollonia, on the western edge of the modern city of Herzliya (Israel), at the top of a limestone hill overlooking the sea, stands a rectangular fortress-like building (Fig. 1), commonly known as Mashhad Sayyidnā ‘Alī – a name derived from that of ‘Alī b. ‘Alīm, who lies buried there. The story of Sayyidnā ‘Alī, which I would like to set forth in this article, combines three intertwined aspects that shed light on Muslim Palestine and Syria (bilād al-shām) in the Middle Ages.

This article explores Islamic networks, as constituted by migration of people, movement of saints and philanthropic institutional links, across the Indian Ocean. Linking Bombay, Hyderabad and the Muslim diasporas of East Africa, these transnational Shi‘i networks forge a print-based public sphere and determine routes for the circulation of media technology. Moreover, this article argues, that they deploy this technology to enable Islamic reformism in ways that are distinct to the local urban cultures in which they are set. The article examines two initiatives that apply technology towards different conceptions of Shi‘i reformism: while one reform initiative attempts to situate itself within a secular liberal public, another seeks to interrogate secular liberal assumptions by establishing an authentic Islamic society; both then, are underpinned by different goals, internal contestations and diverse trajectories. This article seeks to emphasize the ongoing impact of historically shaped networks of community migration and organisation: both the use of technology in mediating Islamic reform, and attempts to articulate a moral Islamic universalism, which have in practice been determined by these existing transnational networks.

No game occupies so important a position in the history of the world as that of chess. It is not only at the present day, but has been for many centuries, the most cosmopolitan of pastimes; and though one of the oldest known to civilization, it is yet undoubtedly the most intellectual. Long familiar to all the countries of the East, it has also been played for hundreds of years throughout Europe, whence it has spread to the New World, and wherever else European culture has found a footing. A map indicating the diffusion of chess over the habitable globe would therefore show hardly any blanks. Probably no other pastime of any kind can claim so many periodicals devoted exclusively to its discussion; certainly no other has given rise to so extensive a literature. The influence of chess may be traced in the poetry of the Middle Ages, in the idioms of most modern European languages, in the science of arithmetic, and even in the art of heraldry. An investigation as to its origin, development, and early diffusion therefore forms a not unimportant chapter in the history of civilization.

Poverty in medieval Islam is an enormous topic. It is worth considering from a historian's point of view, especially in the light of what has been accomplished by historians of Rome, Byzantium, and the medieval and modern West who have dealt with poverty and the poor. But as always, the sources for Islamic history, especially for the formative early centuries, present difficulties. Here I wish to make a preliminary attempt at dealing with part of this problem. I shall begin by considering an event which represents a turning point in the history of the Muslim poor, or more accurately, in the way poverty and the poor have been represented in modern historical scholarship on medieval Islam. Then I shall suggest a way in which this event may be set in context, and a possible strategy for handling some of the relevant sources. This strategy involves the identification of different, competing ways in which the poor were defined in the first centuries of Islam.

It is unfortunate that I have no copy of this interesting book that is complete or in good condition. I possess a broken remnant (D.C. 45 of my collection of MSS.), blotted, dog-eared, and often illegible, and a book of excerpts copied by a priest in Baghdad. The latter (D.C. 46) is extremely incorrect. Besides these, I have borrowed and transliterated pages from another fragmentary loose-leaved copy, brittle with age. All these manuscripts were illiterate and corrupt, each talisman displayed variations due to miscopying or miscomprehension, so that originally identical texts showed considerable differences. A dictionary-maker, however, may neglect no text, however corrupt, and although the illiteracy of scribes has led me on many a wildgoose chase, the labour has been amply compensated.

Kumzāri is a dialect spoken exclusively by certain coastal elements of the Shiḥuḥ tribe, the Kumāzara section, who occupy Kumzār at the head of the Musandam Peninsula of Oman, and are found at Dibah, Khasab, the coastal villages of Elphinstone and Malcolm Inlets and at Larek Island.

On the 1st of June 1823, I visited the “Pinjra Pol,” at Surat; a place which is appropriated for the reception of old, worn-out, lame, or disabled animals. At that time, they chiefly consisted of buffaloes and cows; but there were also goats and sheep, and even cocks and hens; some of which latter had lost their feathers, and here, shorn of their plumes, walked about the courts without molestation.

The Moorish traveller Ibn Baṭṭūṭa occupies a peculiar place in medieval geography, not only because his journeys were so extensive, exceeding in length even those of Marco Polo, but because the record of them contains such a fantastic mixture of items of information, some valuable or precise, others worthless or vague in the extreme, regarding the different cities, provinces, and distinguished men that he had seen. Everyone who has traced out his journey step by step must agree that there are serious arguments against the trustworthiness of his statements regarding several of the cities which he claimed to have visited. On the other hand, it is exceedingly difficult to substantiate the suspicions thus aroused. He was a skilful narrator, and did not himself, as is well known, write down the record of his journeys; consequently the existence of one or two errors in his account of a city or a district does not prove anything against him, since it must be allowed that his memory occasionally played him false. Besides, Ibn Battuta was a typical son of the medieval East, a fact which explains certain systematic faults in his narrative. For example, he is very inconsequent; sometimes he speaks at length of a small village, and sometimes devotes no more than one or two words to a celebrated city. Sometimes, but not always, he gives an impression of sincerity, saving frankly that he was badly treated by so-and-so, or that he was told about such and such a city or country, but did not himself visit it. For this reason one is naturally inclined to accept his word when he says that he personally visited a place.

To examine a piece of literature bearing a great name and find that it has been wrongly ascribed may be profitable if the work is interesting. Unfortunately, the collection of letters described in Professor Browne's Literary History of Persia (vol. iii, pp. 80 ff.) and the Catalogue of Oriental MSS. belonging to E. G. Browne (pp. 146 f.) would only have had interest and significance if they had indeed been a transcript of the vizier Rashīd al-Dīn Faḍl-Allah's own correspondence or despatches.

There are a number of journeys made, or alleged to have been made, in Arabia between the middle of the fifteenth and the middle of the seventeenth century of which there is no mention, or at least no adequate account, in Hogarth's Penetration of Arabia or in R. H. Kiernan's Unveiling of Arabia. Many of these omissions are due to the little use they made of the Portuguese historians.

It is well-known that Maimonides (1135–1204), one of the greatest philosophers and experts in Jewish law (Halakhah), was an eminent physician as well. He probably studied medicine during his sojourn in Fez (Morocco) between 1158 and 1165, after he and his family had fled from his native city Cordoba, because of the persecutions by the fanatical Muslim regime of the Almohades.

The scantiness of Parthian inscribed material enhances the importance of any new find. The existence of inscriptions and drawings on the rock-walls of a gorge near Birjand (Southern Khorasan) had been known for some time; but their antiquity was not recognized until Mr. Jamal Rezai, a Persian student from Birjand, visited the gorge and took photographs, which he submitted to Dr. Sadiq Kiya, of the University of Tehran. Dr. Kiya at once correctly identified the writing as Parthian and, in company with Mr. Rezai, published the whole material, together with a preliminary reading of the inscriptions. Dr. Richard N. Frye also paid a visit to the site and reported on it briefly in the Persian literary monthly Mihr. Later some uninformed criticism, claiming modern origin of the remains, appeared in the same periodical; it was justly refuted by Dr. Kiya.

Although the religion founded by Mohammed is called by strangers after his name, its followers designate it differently. There is indeed a name which rarely occurs, ḥammādūna, which is applied to them, and which indirectly, at least, is connected with the name of the Prophet. That word signifies “Those who utter the formula ‘Praise be to God,’” and this formula (al-ḥamdu lillāhi) has some connection with the Prophet's name, which was interpreted by his contemporaries as ‘the greatly to be praised.’