IN the second half of the nineteenth century, the general upsurge of nationalism in Europe exerted an influence on the Jewish population as well. This influence was particularly strong in Eastern Europe, where there occurred a formidable Jewish nationalistic renaissance, some features of which were: the revival of Hebrew as a spoken language; the widespread use of Jewish folk-lore in the works of Jewish writers, painters, and musicians; and the rebuilding and resettling of Palestine by small groups of Jewish pioneers. The new settlers in Palestine soon adapted Hebrew (which had indeed remained very much alive through the centuries as a literary tongue) to the requirements of daily existence, and it became the language of instruction in most of their schools. At present, practically the entire Israeli population (about two million) speaks Hebrew.

The Musabba'āt played an important part in the history of the Kordofan/Dār Fūr region in the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. This article attempts to define who they were and to examine the careers of three generations of Musabba'āt sultans, in particular that of the grandson, their most famous sultan, Hashim b. ‘Isāwī al-Musabba'āwī.

TheChronological Tables of Officials of ike Present Dynasty (Kuo-ch'ao Lieh-ch'ing Nien-piao), by Lei Li, is an important source for the study of the Ming administrative system. The work is rare and little known. Fortunately, the copy in the Peking National Library was among the books sent by the Chinese government during the anti-Japanese war to the United States for safe-keeping, where it was microfilmed with the rest of the collection of rare books (manuscripts and printed works antedating the beginning of the Manchu dynasty) by the Library of Congress. It is in this form now accessible to students.

The Rgyalrong languages are a group of unwritten non-Tibetic languages spoken in north-western Sichuan Province, China. This paper provides an in-depth analysis of the Brag-bar (a dialect of Situ Rgyalrong) kinship terminology at the synchronic level, and then by using both internal reconstruction and comparative method, we attempt to explain the directionality of both formal and semantic changes in the Brag-bar terminology. Thus we demonstrate that the present kinship system of Brag-bar (Situ) originates from a system with Omaha skewing.

Armenian karmir “red” has often been considered as deriving from East Iranian, thus speaking in favour of relations between Armenian and Sogdian, a Middle Iranian language spoken at considerable distance from Armenia. For the origin of Hebrew karmīl, on the other hand, a Middle Persian “karmīr” has been suggested. In either case, the etymology would be Proto-Indo-European *ku̯ṛ́mi- “worm” (be it directly or as a borrowing from Sanskrit kṛ́mi-) from which the colour term would be derived in a way parallel to French vermeil “scarlet” from ver “worm”, thus a term referring to a red dye obtained from scale insects (cochineals). I argue that karmīr is not a Middle Persian word for “red”, that Sogdian is unlikely to be the source of the Armenian and Hebrew words, and that an Indian origin is not probable either because of the specific features of the Indian scale insect dye. Conversely, Armenian scarlet was widely known and appreciated already in antiquity, so that, for historical as well as linguistic reasons, the origin of the word is likely to be an Iranian language within the region where Armenian was spoken.

In the 1950s when Professor Stein was engaged in his research on the Gesar epic, he wrote: ‘If there ever existed a complete recension of all Chapters, they remain unknown to us. Neither written texts nor oral versions contain the totality of the epic story. And the ones that we know of at present, present themselves in the form of a literature that is still alive and mobile.’

Since then, the situation has totally changed with the publication of many previously unknown chapters, not only those that have come down to us from the past but also the new products of a literature that is still expanding, as Professor Stein so accurately observed. What I am concerned with here, however, is the theoretical basis which underlies the ordering of the episodes relating to the hero and his life, and the notion of a correct ‘chronological order’ which the tradition presents, however fictitious the events may be. It is the materials which existed before our time which are most pertinent here and which permit us to identify the theoretical basis of which I speak. That basis provides a perspective on the question as a whole, and a guide through the tangled structure of the Tibetan epic. We are now, as I said, in a better position than in the 1950s to make an assessment of the whole body of Tibetan epic literature.

It is customary to describe the Ṛavedic dialogue of Purūravas and Urvaśī (ṚV 10.95, referred to hereafter as D) either as the source ‘from which all the different versions have originated … an exaltation of a popular fairy-tale’ (H. D. Velankar, The Vikramorvaśīya, New Delhi, 1961, xxxxiii) or as ‘ein einheitliches festgefügtes Kunstwerk’ based on the fairy-tale narrated ‘im alten schlichten Märchenstil’ in Śatapatha Brāhmaṇa, 11.5.1 (K. F. Geldner).

The only notable works on poetics and prosody that survive in Pali are the Subodhālankāra (comprising, in effect, Kārikā and Vrtti) and Vuttodaya. They have been ascribed to the twelfth-century Sinhalese monk Sangharakkhita and described, almost from the outset, as ‘dependent upon Sanskrit models’ and ‘based entirely upon Sanskrit prosody’ respectively. Indeed the Vrtti names a ‘Dandi’ as its basic source. The Pali Text Society's 2000 edition of the Subodhālankāra, complete with two versions of the Vrtti, compiled by P. S. Jaini, has registered many, but by no means all of the parallel passages in Dandin's Kāvyādarśa, the seminal manual of Sanskrit poetic theory. The present article seeks to show that the Pali texts depend rather on earlier Middle Indian traditions of rhetoric and poetics, coupled with theories adumbrated in Nātyaśāstra. It is reasonably certain that the basic Pali material, especially as presented in the version with ‘Abhinavatīkā’, has been drawn upon by the author of the Sanskrit Kāvyādarśa; and there is evidence that the ‘Porānatīkā’ has been superficially influenced by the Sanskrit text. The material goes far to explain classical Sanskrit notions of Alamkāra, Rasa and Dhvani. The Pali prosody Vuttodaya seems to have been equally baselessly maligned, and should take its place along with surviving vestiges of Prakrit prosody as the fundamental link between Vedic and classical theory.

At the beginning of September 1854, almost six months after Commodore Perry had concluded his convention with Japan, Sir James Stirling, Commander-in-Chief of the British East Indies fleet, took his squadron into Nagasaki harbour to negotiate with the Japanese officials there. Unlike Perry, his primary object was not to obtain a treaty of commerce and friendship. War between Britain and Russia had broken out in March, and it was his duty to hunt down, if possible to destroy, Admiral Poutiatin's squadron then in Pacific waters. This task, he realized, would be made much easier if he could use Japanese ports for obtaining stores and refitting on the terms usually allowed a belligerent by a neutral state, and if this meant that Russia could use those ports on similar terms, he was confident that he could deny her access to them by his own greater strength at sea. In fact, whatever secret hopes he may have had as to the ultimate effect of his discussions on Anglo-Japanese relations, Stirling went to Nagasaki principally to settle a point of practical importance to his conduct of naval operations. He wished to know in what light the Japanese government would view the use'of its ports by the belligerents, and was ready to suggest, perhaps insist on, a policy favourable to Great Britain.

Despite this limited objective, there followed an exchange of letters, some weeks of waiting, and a number of discussions with the Nagasaki Bugyoo (the Governor of Nagasaki), as a result of which Stirling obtained a convention similar in many respects to that of Perry, though somewhat more restricted in its provisions.

The treatment of Proto-Iranian *θw (PIE *t) is one of the isoglosses distinguishing Middle Persian from Parthian and thus important for Western Iranian dialectology. The re-discussion of the Parthian development of this consonant cluster by Nicholas Sims-Williams presents a welcome opportunity for some notes on the matter. I will argue that there is some additional evidence in favour of his suggestion that the Parthian result is not -f- as previously assumed, but a consonant cluster. I will also suggest a modification of the steps that the development takes. The Middle Persian development of *θw as well as some related issues of historical phonology and Pth. orthography and Western Ir. are likewise discussed.

Tanzanian novelist and philosopher Euphrase Kezilahabi strives to “dismantle the resemblance of language to the world” (1985: 216) through challenging the fundamental philosophical dichotomy of subject and object. The result of this dismantling will be a new “language whose foundation is Being” (Kezilahabi 1991: 69; lugha ambayo msingi wake ni kuwako). This is an expression of a new relationship between humanity and Being built on a holistic epistemology of experience and embodiment. Through “kuwako”, Kezilahabi expresses in Swahili the Heideggerian concept of Sein (Being). His adherence to Heidegger, however, puts him at risk of compromising the very foundation of his own philosophy: his continued critique of essentialism. This article argues that Kezilahabi salvages his concept of “kuwako” from these essentialist pitfalls precisely through his declared “destructive rather than deconstructive stand vis-à-vis the Western philosophy of value and representation” (Kezilahabi 1985: 4). The destruction is implemented on the thematic level: a phase of “vurumai” (chaos) which destroys previous traditions of philosophy is staged in Nagona. However, translation is an even more powerful device to carry out this destruction: “kuwako” is not an innocent reiteration but a radical reformulation of Heidegger's central philosophical concept, decisively informed by Kezilahabi's lifelong propensity for existentialism.

Of the various appellations by which ‘Alī b. Abī Ṭālib is known, none has evoked more interest and controversy than that of ‘Abū (al-)Turāb’. This by-name is attested in early sources, both Muslim and non-Muslim; an example for the latter is the letter allegedly sent by the Byzantine Emperor Leo III (717–40) to ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-’Azīz (99–101/717–20), in which ‘Abū Turāb’ appears twice.

Following on from Part 1 of this article (BSOAS 70/2, 305–372), Part 2 continues to examine the use of colour in different diviner groups, but focuses on the groups belonging to the non-kings' school. It also includes the newly discovered inscriptions from the eastern section of Huayuanzhuang in Yinxu. The exercise of colour preference in the non-kings' school is similar to that seen in the kings' school, but reveals an even broader interest. By looking at the context in which each colour was used, we can detect the process of a colour system working in Shang rituals. The final section of the paper provides a cross-cultural comparison of Shang colour symbolism which had a profound influence on the late wuxing theory.

In the legendary accounts of the Buddhist canon concerning the growth and development of Theravaāa Buddhism (Norman, 1987) Aśoka plays an important role. In support of these legends modern scholars have quoted Aśoka's own so-called Schism Edict from Allahabad (Kauśāmbī), Sanchi and Sarnath, in which the emperor would claim to have acted against schisms in the Buddhist Church (e.g. Alsdorf, 1959). However, Bechert has convincingly shown that in this edict Aśoka is not concerned with schisms in the Buddhist Church but with divisions within local, individual saṃghas (Bechert, 1961; 1982). It should immediately be added that this does not imply a denigration of Aśoka's importance for Buddhism but merely brings his role into line with contemporary realities. At the time the level of organization in Buddhism did not go beyond that of the individual saṃgha. It is all the more important to identify exactly the details of Aśoka's interference in the saṃgha. However, it is precisely here that problems start, as several passages in the text of the Schism Edict, an important source on this topic, are still unclear. By way of example I refer to posathāye in the Sarnath version, which has been variously interpreted as a dative of direction and a dative of time. The difference would be whether Aśoka's official should go to the uposatha ceremony or should go to the saṃgha on the uposatha day.

The inlaid bronze basin in the Musée du Louvre known as the “ Baptistère de St. Louis ” is generally recognized as a masterpiece of Islamic metalwork. So far, published photographs and drawings have failed to do it justice. Almost the whole surface of the vessel, both outside and inside, is engraved with court-scenes, battles and hunting expeditions set out in harmoniously composed panels and medallions, framed by narrower friezes of beasts of the chase, and enriched with delicately chased silver inlay and gold leaf, in such manner as to allow the bronze to appear only in narrow contours, brought into relief by the use of a black bituminous inlay (Pl. 5).

The basin is signed in several places, and one signature, in calligraphic Mamlī, reads “ Work of the Master (al-mu'allim) Muhammad ibn al-Zain ”, but nowhere is the name of the owner of this magnificent vessel to be discovered. Nor is the owner's name given on the only other signed work of the same artist which has come down to us. Neither of these pieces bears the laudatory or benedictory inscriptions so common on Islamic metalwork.

Arab biographers rarely regarded outstanding artists, other than calligraphers, as worthy of inclusion in their biographical dictionaries. Their works yield no information about Muhammad ibn al-Zain and therefore none which might lead us to identify his patron. We must adopt a different method if we wish to discover for whom this princely vessel was originally made.

The earliest European reference to this basin appears to be an entry in Piganiol de la Force's Description de Paris, published in 1742.