Some of the earliest narratives of meetings between leaders of an Indian community and their Muslim ruler appear in the Vividhatīrthakalpa (Chapters on Many Sacred Places) of the Jain monk Jinaprabhasūri (c. 1261–1333 ce). The text depicts the monk's relationship with Sultan Muḥammad bin Tughluq (r. 1325–51) in the years 1328–33, which resulted in the sovereign issuing a number of edicts (farmāns) to protect Jains and Jain temples and which led to the return of a Jina icon (Pkt. paḍima, Skt. pratimā) and the establishment of a Jain quarter in Delhi. Over the next two-and-a-half centuries, Jinaprabhasūri's story would be retold several times, with fifteenth-century narrators shifting his interlocutor to Fīrūz Shāh Tughluq (r. 1351–88). In the process of making Jinaprabha an object of memory, Jain authors of both the monk's own and rival monastic orders (gacchas) depicted the sultans as benefactors of the Jain community. While these narratives were attempts to delineate the proper relationship between Jain monastic leaders and Muslim rulers, they also constituted a Jain memory of the Tughluq sultans that is often at odds with modern historical representations of them. Reading these narratives alongside other evidence of Jains’ relations with the Tughluqs offers historians an alternative view of these figures and their relations with their Indian subjects, helping to de-centre modern historical narratives based on selective readings of Persian and Arabic sources and a privileging of Brahmanical or colonial viewpoints of the period. However, these narratives require historians to theorise this ‘memory’ to understand them productively as historical sources.

The name Ilqāy appears on small monetary weights for 1251 and 1252 in Cairo at the beginning of Mamlūk rule. This person was a high official in the treasury, responsible for regulating monetary transactions. However, the name is not Arabic but Mongolian—and at this point, the Mamlūks and Mongols were contesting the Middle East. This article traces the meaning of the unique name and its appearance in Mongol history. It then discusses the hypothetical way in which Ilqāy developed Mongol coinage in his early career. The violent purges of the Mongol civil war may have forced him to escape and enter Egypt's financial system. This biography is hypothetical since there is no literary evidence for mint activity and personnel at this time. Nevertheless, the unusual name and timing create a mystery that invites special consideration.

This article examines how the introduction of western European crusaders and settlers to northern Syria from 490/1097 onwards impacted upon two important mechanisms of regional diplomacy; the ransom of prominent political prisoners and tributary relationships. Discussion begins with a comparison of the capture and ransom of high-ranking captives in northern Syria between 442-522/1050-1128, where it is argued that the establishment of the crusader states led to an increase in both the rate at which prisoners of elite status were ransomed and the financial sums involved in these interactions. This is followed by a reassessment of the various peace treaties, tributary arrangements and condominia or munāṣafa agreements concluded between the rulers of Antioch and Aleppo during the late fifth/eleventh and early sixth/twelfth centuries. Ultimately, this article seeks to place key features of northern Syrian diplomacy from the early crusading period within the context of regional norms in the decades preceding the crusaders’ arrival.

In tracing back the orign of nations beyond the period embraced by the special histories of Greece and Rome, we reach the interval in universal history, during which four great nations are known to have floursihed, and to have extended their relations, political, millitary, or commercial, over the various regions of the globe. These are the races of India, China, Phœnicia, and Egypt. The two latter have long ceased to exist as distinct nations; or rather have been absorbed in other nationalities; whilst the two former, beside constituting the most numerous portion of the human race, have continued their ethnical existence to the present time. That other races of men inhabited the countries which have since been occupied and peopled by these races anterior to them may be considered certain; but no data exist from which it can be inferred that any considerable monarchy, or empire, was ever founded in any of these countries, prior to the clear, national establishment of those races, respectively, in India, and Egypt. The three former are the nations of Asia, who, whether by the antiquity of the civilization attributed to them, or the permanent influence they have exerted in the history of mankind, must be regarded by modern writers as the earliest races that have established themselves as great nations, whose peculiar languages and institutions mark them as the most distinct divisions of the human species, from whose records all researches in general history and ethnology must commence. Of the Chinese and the Phoenicians I shall have as little to remark as of the Egyptians.

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.

This paper studies how Brajbhāṣā Vaishnava narratives describe the role the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb played in the displacement of Krishna images from the Braj heartland in the 1660s and 1670s. While contemporary discourse frequently suggests that the emperor was a villain persecuting beloved Hindu deities, who in turn are victims forcibly moved from their original homeland, the early-modern vernacular narratives we consider here perceive these peregrinations in rather more complex ways. This article foregrounds the case of the best-known dispersed Krishna image: Śrī Nāthajī, a deity of the Vallabha-Sampradāya, now residing in the Mewar area of Rajasthan. It analyses mostly the discourse of the Śrī Nāthajī kī Prākaṭya-Vārtā, or ‘The story of the Appearance of Śrī Nāthajī’, attributed to Vallabha's descendant, Harirāy. The sectarian logic presents Aurangzeb as an ardent, if uncouth, devotee and Śrī Nāthajī as an autonomous agent, not a victim, but rather a victor.

The article examines the material relating to the early reception of the eighteenth century Hindi poet Ānandghan (Ghanānand). Ānandghan's poetic ideas were not far from those expressed in Persian literature, popular at that time in India. Apart from an abundance of idiomatic usage and paradoxes his approach to love reflects his taste for Persian poetry: the beloved can be either a woman or an undefined God, or even Krishna. Ānandghan's ‘openness’ towards Persian poetry earned him disrepute. In this article three early schools of criticism of his quatrains are distinguished: those of his opponents, of his fellow-devotees and of Brajnāth, the secular connoisseur. All three parties expressed their views on Ānandghan through poetry sometimes employing bitter or pungent language.

It is now possible for me to supplement my Arabic text of Ali Baba by printing in full the only other original version so far known. I shall add some further information which I have gathered on the identity of the scribe of the Bodleian MS. and various notes on the text of that version. Besides the criticisms of Professor Torrey, printed in this Journal for 1911 (pp. 221 ff.), I have had the advantage of privately communicated suggestions from Professor Goldziher, Artin Pasha, and Joseph Gabriel, Esq., a native of Ḥaṣbaya in the Lebanon, but now for many years in business in Manchester. His communications have been of especial interest.

Colonial and postcolonial historians writing in English relied upon an emancipated slave's eighteenth-century Persian text, Tahmās Nāma, to construct the history of the Punjab in the same period. In this process, they have mistranslated the text and the genre. Rather than reading Tahmās Nāma as factual history or as a moral text of refinement, this article argues that if we return to the original account, in Persian, we see that the text is primarily auto/biographical. While this auto/biography does provide some insight into eighteenth-century political history of the Punjab and Mughal Hindustan, it—more importantly—sheds light on the ethnic, religious, social, economic and gendered lives of the author, Miskin, and the people whom he includes in his narrative. These intersecting and overlapping identities have been erased, flattened or misrepresented in translations of the text. Based on a re-reading of the auto/biography in its original language, this article considers how identity and slavery—conceptual categories of the present that are elided in the mistranslations—function in the text, and how those categories were understood, negotiated and leveraged during the eighteenth century.

This article discusses the language of the Xūz mentioned in Arabic sources, endorsing the view that it is the latest attestation of the Elamite language. Drawing on models from historical sociolinguistics, it also studies the problem of mutual acculturation between speakers of Elamite and Persian in antiquity.

An indescribable charm surrounds the early poetry of the Arabs. Dwelling in the wonderful creations of their genius with these ancient poets, you live, as it were, a new life. Cities, gardens, villages, the trace of even fields, left far out of sight, you get away into the free atmosphere of the desert; and, the trammels and conventionalities of settled society cast aside, you roam with the poet over the varied domain of Nature in all its freshness, artlessness, and freedom.

This was given some years ago to the University Library at Cambridge by Sir Herbert Thompson, who bought it with other objects from a dealer in London. I have to thank the Librarian for his kind permission to publish it.

In 1789 James Augustus Grant wrote that he had resided for several years in Benares as a free merchant under the protection of the East India Company. He evidently specialized on trade with the Gorakhpur district of Oudh. “I have for some time past and by the force of unremitting exertion and a great expense been enabled to establish factories in Gorruckpoor, etc., in the [Nawab's] Dominions for the manufacture of cloths, sugar, opium, etc., and I effected these establishments without any interest or influence except that which became the result of my own industry.” He had incurred considerable initial losses and expenses, chiefly in propitiating various Indian functionaries and landholders and especially the Nawab's land-revenue officers (amils). The amils seem mostly to have farmed the privilege of collecting the land-revenue on short leases and to have been constantly changing, a fact which made all business concerns highly precarious.

In the various discussions over the date of the Kauṭilīya Arthaśāstra no notice appears to have been taken so far of the deductions that can be drawn from Buddhist sources. This is all the more remarkable in that the exact dating of the Chinese translations enables us to determine the lower limits for the dates of a number of Buddhist works, so that we thus have fixed points from which to start. Here I propose to consider the relationship in date of the Arthaśāstrato the works of Aśvaghoṭa, to Āryaśūra's Jātahamālā and to the Lanhdvatdrasutra.