This article discusses the official discourse that appeared in Macau’s Portuguese-language media and the documentaries that were shot there by Portuguese filmmakers in the 1960s and 1970s, especially focusing on the productions that followed the 123 Incident and which largely functioned as a response to it. These riots occurred in December 1966, when Chinese residents of Macau used Cultural Revolution-like protests to contest what they viewed as an inefficient and unfair Portuguese administration. They had a long-lasting and deep impact, weakening Portuguese colonial rule and increasing the influence of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and local Maoists in Macau. In an attempt to counter the image-damage caused by the incident and legitimise Portuguese sovereignty in the territory during what was its worst crisis in the post-war period, Portuguese official discourse and these films came to promote Macau as a site of ‘miraculous’ development and modernisation that had as its basis Luso-Chinese partnership. Furthermore, Macau was advocated as an exemplary case of good neighbourhood policy towards the PRC and of coexistence at all levels, particularly ethnically and politically. This, it was suggested, made it a unique place and a model for the world in a time of cold war.

Considerable evidence survives of the cooking and eating of kebabs as a major form of meat consumption in early China. Not only are there numerous artistic depictions in both painting and low-relief stone sculpture of this practice, but there are also some very early excavated skewers, grills, and indeed preserved meat kebabs, not to mention references in contemporary literature, and this evidence significantly predates any documentation of kebabs in the Middle East. However, in spite of this wealth of documentation, this tradition has gone largely unexplored, partly due to scholars failing to understand the relevant terminology and partly due to an unjustified belief that all kebab cooking must derive from the Middle East. This article explores the indigenous ancient Chinese tradition of kebab cooking, focused on grilling and roasting of smaller (luan) or larger (zi) pieces of meat seasoned with soybean pastes and sauces, which developed independently of other similar culinary practices elsewhere. This analysis is focused on literary evidence of the Chinese kebab, with particular reference to the contents of a recently discovered very early cookbook, dating to the Han Dynasty, excavated from the tomb of Wu Yang, first marquis of Yuanling, who died in 162 BCE.

The Khojas are a caste-based community that emerged in the fourteenth century across Sindh, Kutch, and Kathiawar.* For centuries, they maintained a distinct identity that blended Hindu and Islamic traditions, which resisted rigid classification within either religious framework. The nineteenth century, however, brought profound change through two major schisms that reshaped their religious and social identity. The first, rooted in disputes over the authority of the Aga Khan, culminated in the 1866 Aga Khan Case and prompted some to align with Sunni Islam. The second, a theological rupture, led to the rise of Isna Ashari Khojas. This shift was influenced by Twelver Shiʿi mujtahids in Najaf and Karbala, who, through Indian Shiʿi ʿulamāʾ and mullās, reshaped Khoja religious identity. This article explores the central role of Twelver Shiʿi networks and their transregional reach in shaping this transformation. It focuses on how changes in legal identity, religious authority, and migratory patterns across Bombay, Zanzibar, and the shrine cities of Iraq contributed to the emergence of a distinct Isna Ashari Khoja identity. In doing so, it situates Khoja transformations within a wider historical context of religious affiliation and social organisation across South Asia and East Africa.

This article traces the figure of the lūṭī in the writings of Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah (d. 1350) and Ibn Kathīr (d. 1373). These two fourteenth-century scholars adopted a harsh and uncompromising view of the lūṭī as a sexual actor, repeatedly depicting the horrific afterlife punishments awaiting him in Hell. As part of their hyperbolic and extreme depiction of the lūṭī as a damned sexual figure, they imagine him through his communal relationship to his forebears, both among the Qur’anic People of Lūṭ and those like him in his present day. They thereby construct a sexual community of sorts, framing the lūṭī through a parodic repurposing of a strikingly Islamic idiom of belonging and community-building. In doing so, I argue, these texts open up broad possibilities for us to rethink how medieval authors theorised what we might call ‘sexual identity’ and understood sex to construct ways of being in the world around them.

In 1770, the Rohilla chief Ḥāfiz̤ Raḥmat Ḵẖān wrote a text called Ḵẖulāṣat ul-Ansāb, focusing on the genealogical and ancestral history of the Rohilla Afghans. This article analyses the text as a glimpse into the emotions he went through—such as anxiety, uncertainty, confidence, determination, and strength—as the ruler of a small principality founded by a new political group in the competitive political milieu of eighteenth-century South Asia. It studies the textual expression of these emotions he experienced during a period that brought both challenges and opportunities for the Rohilla Afghans. It firstly shows how the text served as a means of creating unity among the Rohilla Afghans by elaborating an origin story, adapting them to new circumstances, and legitimising the emerging Rohilla state. Secondly, it discusses how Ḥāfiz̤ Raḥmat aimed to rectify the negative portrayals of the Afghans by Mughal chroniclers and enhance Afghan prestige in northern India by creating a haloed genealogy. Finally, it explains how the text claimed religious legitimacy for the Rohilla Afghans by linking them to the prophets, Muslim invaders of the past, and local religious figures. Overall, this textual analysis contributes to the historiography of eighteenth-century South Asia by studying the political anxieties associated with Rohilla Afghan state formation.

This article surveys the life and work of Benjamin Clough (1791–1853), Wesleyan Methodist missionary to Ceylon, focusing on his contributions to the study of Pali and Buddhism. It attempts to show that he inaugurated the Western study of Pali and that he should be recognised as one of the most important early scholars of Buddhism.

Towards the end of his al-Ghayth al-Musajjam fī Sharḥ Lāmīyat al-ʿAjam, Khalīl ibn Aybak al-Ṣafadī (d. 1363/764) aims a peculiar slight at his sometime teacher Ibn Taymiyya (d. 1328/728), likening him to two famous executed heretics, al-Suhrawardī (d. circa 1191/587) and Ibn al-Muqaffaʿ (d. 759/142), in their shared ‘lack of reason’. Though often cited as evidence that al-Ṣafadī held his famous contemporary’s intelligence in low regard, the insult is more specifically aimed at his lack of discretion. In this article, I examine how Ibn Taymiyya is portrayed across the Sharḥ and argue that, when paired with insights from the book about al-Ṣafadī’s own language-centred hermeneutics, we gain a number of interesting insights into this prolific historian and adīb. The first is that he was closely familiar with and even mimicked aspects of the culture of ‘esoteric disclosure’, including in his criticism of Ibn Taymiyya and his indiscretion. Al-Ṣafadī also emerges as something of an exemplar of what Thomas Bauer has called Islam’s ‘cultural ambiguity’, whose final criticism of Ibn Taymiyya and of the heretics to whom he is likened is not any specific one of their beliefs, but rather their inability to exercise discretion in expressing them.

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.

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.

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 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.

‘Swaraj’ is perhaps the most widely known of the keywords that are associated with Indian nationalism. Although it was initially used to translate the Western concept of ‘self-government’, by the second decade of the twentieth century, swaraj had become a complex term that could not be readily translated by using English expressions. Intellectual historians have extensively analysed the use of swaraj in the Gandhian oeuvre. Gandhi's Hind Swaraj has often been taken as a guide to explain the meaning of the term. However, the prior history of swaraj and the uses of swaraj by politicians who disagreed with Gandhi's definition of that term have not been adequately explored. To fill this lacuna, in this article, a selection of instances are examined that marked the transformation of swaraj from a traditional term that was associated with the precolonial Maratha history to an untranslatable term that was used by Indian nationalists to conceptualise their anti-colonial activism. I demonstrate here that swaraj was left untranslated in a range of English-language Indian political texts and documents to shape an agenda that was opposed to the collaborationist policies of imperial liberalism. The article thus illustrates the crucial role that the question of untranslatability played in sustaining the anti-colonial agenda of mainstream Indian nationalism.

This article classifies individual lexemes in Chinese dialects into four categories: popular, learnèd, colloquial, and literary. Popular and learnèd refer to the origins of a word: whether it has been transmitted orally or learned in an educational context. Colloquial and literary refer to usage. The traditional Chinese terms for distinguishing character readings, wén 文 and bái 白, literally ‘written’ and ‘spoken’, do not correspond neatly to the four categories that are proposed here. This article illustrates the differences between all six terms, mainly by using standard Mandarin and Běijīng dialect, and secondarily by using words from Mĭn and other dialects.

In the late 1920s and the 1930s a fully developed discourse emerged in China that linked either travel as a general concept (mostly with a primary focus on its leisure form) or tourism more specifically to the interests of society and the nation. This article analyses its development as it evolved in the first half of the twentieth century. For this purpose, it first probes into the discourse that surrounded, from the 1920s onwards, the constitution and the activity of the Travel Department of the Shanghai Commercial and Savings Bank and of the China Travel Service, in line with which the travel service that one and the other provided was considered to involve dimensions of service to the nation and to society. The article proceeds by looking into two separate but ultimately linked lines of discourse that came to full bloom during the Nanjing decade and after: one that linked travel to the building of society, and another that linked it to the strengthening of the nation.

The Brahman sage Gautama cursed Indra with emasculation, in some versions through the appearance of vulvas on his body, as a punishment for intercourse with Gautama's wife, Ahalyā; Ahalyā's punishment involved detraction from her visible or physical presence. I present an analysis of the version as told in Padmapurāṇa 1.54. The story, in addition to reflecting male suspicion of women and dread of feminisation, simultaneously functions as a cautionary tale about the dangers of succumbing to lust and reflects inter-varṇa tension: the weak-willed Indra, a divine kṣatriya, is humiliated by the continent Gautama, whose asceticism is the source of the devastating power that he unleashes against both Indra and Ahalyā. I also compare this myth to the Greek tales of Achilles, Herakles, and Teiresias's feminisations, and suggest that the association of heroic feminisation with sexuality (as seen in the stories in which Indra, Achilles, and Herakles are feminised) may be a shared inheritance from Proto-Indo-European times. However, the myths of Achilles and Herakles's feminisations, like that of Indra's, are shaped by their specific cultural context: the feminised Greek heroes’ penetration of women is confirmation of their continued masculinity, rather than the result of a reprehensible lack of self-control.

This article examines Ottoman–Portuguese commercial agreements in Basra during the century after 1622 and the legal ambiguities that they engendered. On two separate occasions, the Portuguese established a factory in Basra: first in 1624 during the reign of the Afrāsiāb pasha (who governed in the name of the Ottomans from 1612 to 1667) and once again in 1690 when the city was ruled again by Ottoman governors (Ottoman direct rule was restored in 1667). Yet there were myriad issues that supplied cause for disputation between the two parties, not least the legal status of the factory itself. On the face of it, both the Portuguese and the Ottoman functionaries in Basra operated according to divergent models of extraterritorial trading privileges. After a century of expansion on the coasts of Africa and the Indian Ocean, the Portuguese had grown accustomed to the model of the factory (feitoria), in both those places in which the Portuguese governed in their own name and those in which they traded at the sufferance of African and Asian rulers. On the other hand, over the course of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the Ottomans had granted so-called capitulations to European powers in the Mediterranean, which were governed by norms that were distinct from the factory model of Africa and Asia. Basra brought these two models into interaction and disrupted the straightforward implementation of either model. Frequent moments of misunderstanding and manoeuvring between the two sides were the result.

To the limited materials available for the study of the early Muslim tradition of renunciant piety (zuhd) may now be added the papyrus P.Vindob. AP 1854a–b of the Austrian National Library in Vienna, which is edited, translated, and annotated in this article. Its two incomplete and damaged leaves contain four texts that constitute a small anthology of meditations on the imminence of death and judgment: psalms 7–13 of the Islamic ‘Psalms of David’ (Zabūr Dāwūd); a collection of narratives surrounding the death of the Prophet Muḥammad; a collection of material about grief over the deaths of the Prophet and Fāṭima and over the slaughter of al-Ḥusayn's party at Karbala; and a dialogue between God and the prophet David about the rewards of the afterlife. The papyrus confirms that the long Muslim tradition of rewriting the ‘Psalms of David’ originated in early renunciant circles. It also illustrates the process whereby a ninth-century preacher could compile a notebook of sermon material from a wide range of sources, including poetry, hadith, and an apocryphal scripture. It also shows how much the still-underdeveloped study of early Islamic piety stands to benefit from the even less-studied resource of Arabic literary papyri.

This article traces how the Yemeni-origin Sufi order of Ṭarīqa ʿAlawiyya and its ritual litany of al-Ḥaddād, with chants and prayers for the Prophet and his descendants especially from Hadramawt, became part of everyday Muslim devotional practices in Malabar through immigrant networks of Hadrami Sayyids. Competing, sometimes rivalling, and appropriating other Sufi religiosities, the Alawi order meaningfully involved within the theo-legal Sufi discourses that have been remoulding the Sufi cosmopolis in the Indian Ocean. By focusing on two notable early immigrant Sayyids in Malabar, this article argues that the successful placement of the ʿAlawī order within the Sufi cosmopolis and the permeation of the ritual was a complex socio-religious project that was brought forth by various aspects of the sacred genealogy, Alawi Sufi writings, Sufi activism, and the effective utilisation of Hadrami immigrant networks.