Current debates about the status of middle east studies are informed by an assumption that separates ‘area studies’ from ‘global studies,’ and ‘area specialization’ from disciplinary or theoretical orientation. Arguing against such separation, I propose that a resort to comparative perspectives may help bridge the divide. To this end, I discuss imperatives and modalities of thinking comparatively in the context of the Middle East, and their implications for bringing other areas into comparative inquiries. Focusing on illustrations from Middle East social studies, I attempt to think through my own, albeit limited, experience of comparative research within the Middle East region.

Women's contribution to the building of the british empire has become by now undeniable. Standing at different vantagepoints, English women articulated, supported, and even innovated the colonial discourse. Though highly masculine in its ideological core, the Empire is far from being exclusively male in its rhetorical voice. Feminist postcolonial critics have shown British women's important participation in colonialism. McClintock, for example, claims that “white women were not the hapless onlookers of empire but were ambiguously complicit both as colonizers, privileged and restricted, acted upon and acting” (6).

From The Advent Of Middle Eastern Studies, the ‘status of the Muslim woman’ was a major subject of interest, not to say fascination. Women in Middle Eastern society were depicted as invisible, downtrodden figures, whiling away their time in harems, ignorant of anything but the most frivolous matters, and prone to childlike behavior. A handful of outstanding, unique women were portrayed either as ideal paragons or as evil shrews.

In the wake of the feminist movement of the 1960s, Middle Eastern ‘women’s history’ gradually began to modify these stereotypes. During the last two decades, new research has revealed the varied roles women have played in the economic, social, and cultural life of the Middle East. Quantitative studies of economic records have produced provocative findings on the ownership and management of property by women.

The cultural, physical, and socio-economic displacement of traditional Gulf societies has been strikingly portrayed by Abdelrahman Munif in his fictional account of the diaspora of a poor oasis community after the discovery of oil. Munif's oil city, seen through the eyes of this community, is a daunting and transient place of contrast and dual personality, a city whose historical memory has been swept away by the evils of modern technology and by neo-colonial forms of economic exploitation. Cities of Salt recounts the hidden tale of Gulf cities, a tale which, this article will argue, is too often neglected in urban studies on the region.

Recently Mary Louise Pratt suggested that we expunge the term ‘foreign’ as it applies to non-European languages and literature, and that we replace it with the term ‘modern,’ thereby “put[ting] an end to another lexical legacy of the Cold War.” I want to argue that, at least for the time being, replacing the term ‘foreign’ would be a dangerous masking, a denial of the realities of the encounters that, from my vantage point as an Arab and a professor of Arabic literature in the American academy, are still characterized by power inequalities, ignorance, and outright racism and hostility, encounters with ‘foreignness’ that must, at the very least, be apprehended as such.

Arabic literature is primarily taught in this country in departments of Middle or Near Eastern Studies. Almost everyone in the humanities today is aware of how institutional structures of limited funding and resources, the distinctions between tenured, non-tenured, and adjunct faculty, the politics of publication and advancement, and so on affect the production of the knowledge that our students and readers are exposed to. In the case of Area Studies departments the problems are more acute. It is not simply that the resources are less, the support from the administration weaker, and the prestige at the bottom of the academic food chain, all of which are true. It is also that, when it comes to Area Studies, it becomes almost impossible for the American academy to be an arena of opposition and contestation. Edward Said traced the history of Area Studies departments in Orientalism over twenty years ago, and exposed the ways in which the knowledge they produce has served the interests of some at the expense of others, and has functioned to consolidate a world order, ‘new’ or ‘old’ does not seem to make much difference, of a privileged few, and a disenfranchised majority.

In the discussion that follows, I propose to inquire into some of the assumptions that may underlie the disciplinary paradigm of Middle Eastern, and particularly Iranian, studies, making this an interpretive essay on a neglected aspect of the field, rather than a research article as such. Nevertheless, I harbor hopes of stimulating discussion and bringing something of a fresh perspective to bear on a subject which, it is generally acknowledged, lies at the very edge of the Persianate tradition of religious innovation, and consequently at the margins of the academic efforts to understand and explain it: the life and legacy of the Iranian prophet-founder of the Bahā'í faith, Mirza Huseyn Ali “Bahā'u'llāh” (1817-92). The questions I will pose are in essence three: why is the religious innovation wrought by Bahā'u'llāh considered marginal by the majority of scholars of the Islamicate world? What does this attitude tell us about the conceptual boundaries within which these same scholars labor? And do these boundaries reflect the limits imposed by the evidence itself or do they reflect the limitations of the contemporary disciplinary paradigm?

With those Words, Samir Joubran plucked the first note on his ‘ud. His comments are echoed by many of his Palestinian peers, who seize every opportunity to bring awareness to Palestinian suffering through their music. His first solo improvisation or taqsim immediately set the mood for a truly captivating evening of music and song, ranging from classical instrumental to nationalist to Arab folk and Palestinian repertoire. His performance was one of a series of events that took place in mid-October 2000, in Montreal, Canada, as part of “Rhythms from Palestine,” a cultural event organized by MAP, or Medical Aid for Palestine, a non-profit organization based in Montreal.

The King Abdulaziz Foundation for Research and Archives (KAFRA) (Arabic title: Darat al-Malik Abdulaziz) was established in 1972 with the aim of preserving the history of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, along with its geography, literature, thought, and architecture. The Foundation is an independent academic establishment governed by a board of directors, chaired by HRH Prince Salman bin Abdulaziz Al-Saud. Its funds are based on project returns, investment activities, government funds, and private donations. Its major sections are: Saudi History Archives, Oral History Center, Information Center, Research Department, Female Center, Ad-darah Journal, the Library, King Abdulaziz Memorial Exhibition Hall, Muraba Palace, and the Royal Family History Center.

During its twenty-nine years of existence, the King Abdulaziz Foundation has collected and preserved huge quantities of historical source materials: documents, manuscripts, books, magazines, photographs, sketches, paintings, films, and oral traditions. The Foundation is keen to collect, classify, and preserve historical documents in both original and duplicate forms. It has collected, as well as copied from, various archives and research centers outside the Kingdom.