In Theravada Buddhism, 'Buddha' refers to one who has become enlightened through their own efforts and insight. A Buddha is someone who has realized the enlightenment that ends the cycle of birth and death and which brings liberation from suffering. In the Pali canon, it is stated that Buddhas have appeared in the past and will also appear in the future. There were also numerous enlightened Buddhas who arose in earlier world-cycles and who preached the very same Dhamma that gives deliverance from suffering and death to all mature beings. The names of these 28 Buddhas are religiously preserved by Buddhists, together with their age, their stature, the names of the trees under which they obtained Enlightenment, their country, and the names of their father and mother. They all have two chief disciples to assist them in their mission. Every Buddha has always obtained the supreme intelligence under the shadow of a certain tree.

These 28 Buddhas are: Taṇhaṅkara Buddha, Medhaṅkara Buddha, Saraṇkara Buddha, Dīpankara Buddha, Koṇdañña Buddha, Maṅgala Buddha, Sumana Buddha, Revata Buddha, Sobhita Buddha, Anomadassi Buddha, Paduma Buddha, Nārada Buddha, Padumuttara Buddha, Sumedha Buddha, Sujāta Buddha, Piyadassi Buddha, Atthadassi Buddha, Dhammadassī Buddha, Siddhattha Buddha, Tissa Buddha, Phussa Buddha, Vipassī Buddha, Sikhī Buddha, Vessabhū Buddha, Kakusandha Buddha, Koṇāgamana Buddha, Kassapa Buddha, ending with Gautama Buddha. Presented below are illustrations of some of these 28 Buddhas from Burmese manuscripts.

Taṇhaṅkara Buddha attained Enlightenment under a Rukkaththana tree. British Library, Or. 14823, f. 1.

The Buddha lineage begins with a Buddha called Taṇhaṅkara. Taṇhaṅkara Buddha was born as a son of King Sunandha and Queen Sunandha in the city of Puppavadī. He attained Enlightenment under a Rukkaththana tree. Taṇhaṅkara Buddha, Medhaṅkara Buddha, Saraṇkara Buddha and Dīpankara Buddha were born in the same aeon (kalpa).

Dīpaṅkara Buddha attained Enlightenment under a Pipphali tree. British Library, Or. 14823, f. 4.

Dīpaṅkara Buddha was born as a son of King Sudeva and Queen Sumedhā in the city of Rāmāvatī. Prince Dīpaṅkara married princess Paduma and had a son named Usabhakkhandā. He attained Enlightenment under a Pipphali tree. He preached his first sermon at Nandarāma at Sirighara. Sumaṅgala and Tissa were his chief disciples. He gave niyatha vivarana (prediction of future Buddhahood) to the Ascetic Sumedha.  


Sumedha receiving  niyatha vivarana from the Dipankara Buddha, British Library, Mss Burmese 202, f.1.

Bodhisitta Sumedha was born as a son to a Brahmin family in the city of Amaravati. After the death of his parents he thought about how his parents were not able to take their wealth with them beyond death. Therefore Sumedha gave away his wealth in alms in order to obtain the merit of the deeds, which could follow him after death. Then he went to the forest to become a hermit to seek merit. When Dipankara Buddha (a Buddha who had reached enlightenment aeons before Gautama, the historical Buddha) followed by His disciples came to the city of Ramma, people were cleaning the road on which he would walk. Sumeda took responsibility for one part of the muddy road, but he was unable to finish the work by the time the Buddha arrived, and the road was still full of mud. He therefore laid himself down on the road for the Buddha to walk upon. Dīpankara Buddha foretold that Sumedha would become a Buddha named Gautama in the ages of the future.  

After Dīpankara, Koṇdañña was born. The kalpas (aeons) that passed between the time of Dīpankara and Koṇdañña were countless. Buddhas Maṅgala, Sumana, Revata and Sobhita were  born in the same kalpa.  Anomadassi, Paduma, Nārada were born in the same kalpa. The kalpas which passed between Nārada and Padumuttara were also countless. Sumedha, Sujāta, Piyadassi, Atthadassi and Dhammadassī were born in the same kalpa. After Dhammadassī, Siddhattha, Tissa, Phussa,Vipassī, Sikhī and Vessabhū were born.

Gautama Buddha’s predecessors in the present world-cycle were Kakusandha, Koṇāgamana and Kassapa. These four Buddhas have already performed their great task. According to Buddhist scripture, Metteyya will be a successor of Gautama who will appear on Earth, attain enlightenment, and teach Dhamma.


Gautama Buddha attained Enlightenment under a Peepal Bodhi tree, British Library, Or. 14823, f. 26.

Gautama Buddha is the fourth and current Buddha of the present kalpa. He was born as a son of King Suddhodana and Queen Mahamaya in the city of Kapilavatthu. Prince Siddhatta Gautama married princess Yasodhayā and had a son named Rāhula. Prince Siddhatta finally arose fully enlightened as Gautama Buddha under the shade of the Peepal Bodhi tree which grew up spontaneously at the very moment he was born. Kolita and Upatissa were his chief disciples to assist him in his mission. He delivered his first sermon Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta in a deer park at Benares. The Buddha spent the rest of his life teaching Dhamma (the path of righteousness). His teaching was quite practical, as he never taught what he himself had not seen and known. In his eightieth year when he was in Kusinara, he had a severe attack of dysentery. Buddha consoled Ananda who was weeping, and then called his disciples together and addressed them to work on their salvation with diligence. Then he entered Parinirvana, from which there is no return.

All these 28 Buddhas were born into royal families or rich Brahmin families. When they had seen the four signs - an old man, a sick man, a corpse, and an ascetic - they renounced worldly life and left home. They engaged in meditation on mindfulness until they attained Enlightenment. At the request of God Brahma, they preached their first sermon to those who followed them.

The auspicious ceremony of Buddha Puja is held to pay homage to the 28 Buddhas who were enlightened and who taught Dhamma in different times. This practice is to remind Buddhists to strengthen their devotion, and many Buddhists also pay homage to the future Buddha, Metteyya.

Further reading:
The minor anthologies of the Pali Canon: Buddhavamsa and Cariyā-Piṭaka, translated by Bimala Churn Law. London: Oxford University Press, 1938.

San San May, Curator for Burmese

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For an art historian, one of the most exciting things in working with manuscripts is having the opportunity to examine a masterpiece firsthand. High-quality digital reproduction tells us much, and it is to the credit of the BL that they have digitized so many of their masterpieces, including one that I have been working on: ms. Add. 18113, a copy of three poems by Khvaju Kirmani penned by Mir Ali b. Ilyas in 796/1396. (See Ursula Sims-William’s post of 1 August 2013 “An illustrated 14th century Khamsah by Khvaju Kirmani")

But examining the physical manuscript can tell us more. For that reason I was especially grateful that Ursula Sims-Williams, Curator of Iranian Collections, arranged for three of us—my husband Jonathan Bloom, a specialist in Islamic paper; Cheryl Porter, a conservator specializing in pigments; and me—to examine the manuscript firsthand in the conservation laboratory.

Fig. 1. Cheryl Porter, Sheila Blair and Ursula Sims-Williams examining the Khvaju Kirmani manuscript in the British Library. Photograph © Jonathan Bloom

More than 600 years old, the manuscript still holds many secrets. The mystery I wanted to investigate was how the paintings were combined with the text. I hoped to confirm some hypotheses I had broached in my recent book, Text and Image in Medieval Persian Art (Edinburgh University Press, 2014).

All of the folios in the manuscript are composite, that is, they are assembled with two different sheets of paper: a thinner white paper in the center and a heavier buff paper for the frame. This is clear even when looking at the manuscript on-line (Add.18113). But looking at the folios through transmitted light shows that these pages were assembled in two different ways. The simplest method, used for all text folios, was simply to insert the rectangular block with the four columns of text into the frame like a window. Hence, I called them framed folios.

Fig.2. Folio 49 seen through transmitted light: a framed folio with the colophon to Humay and Humayun on the front side and a blank back. Photograph © Jonathan Bloom

This straightforward method was also used for to assemble one illustrated folio: folio 64, with the painting of ʿAli slaying the infidel on the back.

Fig. 3. Folio 64 seen through transmitted light: a framed folio with text on the front and ʿAli slays the infidel on the back. Photograph © Jonathan Bloom

The painting occupied the same space as the columns of text, so it was easy just to use the same method of inserting a rectangular block into the frame. 

But the other eight illustrations in the manuscript are different. They are much bigger, spreading well beyond the written surface on the other side. So it was impossible just to assemble them by inserting them like a window into a frame. How were they combined with the border? The reason it was important to know is that it has been suggested that the paintings, or at least some of them, had been made for a different manuscript and were pasted into the text. 

I disagree. I think that the text and the paintings are integral in this manuscript, and our recent investigations confirmed what I had originally suggested: that the paintings were executed directly onto the same white paper used for copying the text and that at a later date—when someone decided to reframe the manuscript within heavier buff borders—the illustrated folios were simply pasted onto (not inserted into) the borders. I called these laminated folios.

I had made this suggestion following my earlier examination of the manuscript in 2011 with BL conservator David Jacobs. Looking at the illustrated folios such as folio 45 with the painting of the Celebrations for the consummation of Humay’s marriage to Humayun under strong transmitted light showed three areas of different opacity: a lighter area in the center, the buff frame visible at the outermost edge, and a third even darker area between the two.

Fig. 4. Folio 45 seen through transmitted light: a laminated folio with text on the front and Celebrations for the consummation of Humay’s marriage to Humayun on the back. Photograph © Jonathan Bloom

I suggested that the third area was darker because it was thicker, as it was a laminate of the original white paper and the buff frame.

David Jacobs suggested that I might be able to confirm my suggestion by measuring the folios with a micrometer, and that is exactly what Ursula Sims-Williams arranged for us to do. We measured several different folios in several different places and found three different thicknesses on illustrated folios that had the paintings laminated to the frame.

The white paper in the center was the thinnest. Regular text folios averaged 0.12 mm, although individual measurements varied from 0.11 to 0.16 mm, undoubtedly due to variations in the handmade paper and the difficulties in measuring a folio that was still in a bound manuscript. 

The white paper in the illustrated folios was a little thicker because one side also had paint, not just inked text.  For example, we measured folio 23 with Humay and Humayun in combat in several places in the center of the painting where there was text on the other side: under the trees, beneath the horses, and between the horses.

Fig. 5. Folio 23 seen through transmitted light, with Humay and Humayun in combat on the front and text on the back. Photograph © Jonathan Bloom

The average thickness of the white paper was 0.145 mm, although the three measurements varied from 0.135 to 0.15 mm.  On average, then, the paint added 0.25 mm to the thickness of the paper.

The buff paper used for the frame was thicker. On both text and illustrated folios, it averaged 0.18 mm, with individual measurements ranging between 0.15 and 0.22 mm. 

But the thickest of all was the third zone where the white sheet with the illustration had been laminated onto the buff frame.  Again we measured folio 23 with Humay and Humayun in combat in three places: at the top, middle, and bottom. The average thickness in this third zone was 0.23 mm, with individual measurements ranging from 0.22 to 0.24 mm. The margin with the gold leaf was even thicker: 0.26 mm, with individual measurements ranging from 0.25 to 0.27 mm.

Measuring with a micrometer thus confirmed my hypothesis that the paintings were integral with the original manuscript and that the large ones on the original white paper had later been laminated onto a heavier buff frame. 

Such a hypothesis about the origin of the illustrations can also be confirmed by looking at the layout of the paintings on the laminated folios through transmitted light, for the composition is directly related to the columnar rulings set out for the text on the other side. This is especially true of the architectural scenes. For example, looking at folio 45 through transmitted light (fig. 4) shows that the architecture corresponds exactly to the text columns. Humayun’s palace with its curtained canopy occupies three columns; the doorway with the servant occupies the fourth; and Humay’s palace lies beyond the written area. The dimensions correspond horizontally as well. The valance above the curtain in Humayun’s palace marks the top of the written area on the front. The carpet below the enthroned princess marks the bottom of the written area. Paintings like this one must have been composed directly on the surface of the ruled folio, because the painter, in this case Junayd who signed his work in the stucco grille just above the valance, laid out his composition directly in accordance with the ruled text.

There is no question, therefore, that close first-hand examination of the manuscript shows that the text and paintings in this superb copy of Khvaju Kirmani’s poems dated 796/1396 are contemporary and that the illustrations were painted onto folios that had already had the text transcribed onto them. I thank the staff of the British Library for making it possible for me to confirm my hypothesis.

Sheila S. Blair, Norma Jean Calderwood University Professor of Islamic and Asian Art, Boston College, Chestnut Hill, MA
[email protected]

 

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One of the most intriguing items in the British Library Persian manuscripts collection is a small unexceptional looking volume which contains a personal record, written in his own hand, of 37 dreams of Tipu Sultan, Sultan of Mysore (r. 1782-1799).

Portrait of Tipu Sultan, 1792, by an unnamed south Indian artist (British Library F28)

The manuscript was presented to the Court of Directors of the East India Company in 1800 by Alexander Beatson on behalf of the Governor-General, Marquess Wellesley, after the fall of Seringapatam in 1799. The story of its discovery is recorded in Beatson’s signed and dated note at the end of the volume:

This register of the Sultaun’s dreams was discovered by Colonel William Kirkpatrick, amongst other papers of a secret nature in an escritoire found in the Palace of Seringapatam. Hubbeeb Oollah, one of the most confidential of the Sultaun’s servants, was present at the time it was discovered. He knew that there was such a book of the Sultaun’s composition; but had never seen it, as the Sultaun always manifested peculiar anxiety to conceal it from the view of any who happened to approach while he was either reading or writing in it.

“Tippoo Sultaun’s Dreams in his own handwriting, presented in the name of The Marquis Wellesley to Hugh Inglis Esqr. Chairman of the Court of Directors, by Major Alexander Beatson, late aid de camp to the Governor General” (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 29v)

The journal contains altogether 37 dreams dating from between April 1786 and January 1799, just a few months before Tipu Sultan's death.  They occupy the first 16 leaves of the volume and are followed by 166 blank folios, with the final part of the volume taken up with related memoranda. The dreams were written perhaps hurriedly in what H. Ethé (no 3001 in his printed catalogue) describes as “a fearful Shikasta”, and contain numerous spelling errors, confusing, for example, the letters  ذ  with ز ,  and س  with ص etc. Only a few of the dreams are described as having been written down on waking. Most were recorded afterwards and they are not all in chronological order. This arrangement suggests that the notebook was intended as an ongoing project containing a selection of Tipu’s most significant dreams, starting, perhaps, around 1795 (Brittlebank 2011, p 167). The dreams are dated according to Tipu’s own lunisolar calendrical system which used new month and year names based first on abjad and then on abtath values. The era, termed mawludi, was calculated from a date which was presumed to be the date of the Prophet's spiritual birth, 13 years earlier than the hijra. Another innovation was to write the numbers from right to left -  logical, however, in a script which reads the same way!

The dreams cover a wide variety of topics but the majority reflect Tipu’s preoccupations with his enemies. Some are seen as indicating success and victory. Others relay encounters with the Prophet, his son-in-law ʻAli and important religious and literary figures such as Saʻdi and Jami whose presence may be seen as a legitimising force.

Considering the importance of divination and predicting the future in pre-modern Islam, the existence of this journal is entirely consistent with Tipu’s particular interest in the interpretation of dreams and bibliomancy. It has sometimes been regarded as something of an esoteric oddity but should be viewed, rather, as a serious attempt to make sense of events in a historical context.

A selection of Tipu’s dreams follows:

Dream 12: The message
This dream dates from 1786 during the Maratha-Mysore war (1785-1787) when the Marathas, who had established a military alliance with the Nizam of Hyderabad, sought to recover territories they had lost in previous conflicts.

Dream 12: A message from the Prophet via Hazrat ʻAli (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 6v)

Translation (Husain, pp. 61-2)

On the 21st of the month Haidari [month 6], of the year Busd in accordance with the Zar evaluation [ie. the new abtath system], the fortieth year of the cycle [ie. September. 1786[1]], at the place where I had halted, on the farther side of the Tungabhadra, I had this dream: It appeared to me as if it was the Day of Judgement when no one would be interested in anyone else. At that time a stranger of great strength and commanding stature with a bright face and red beard and moustaches came to me and taking my hand in his, said to me : “Do you know who I am?” I told him I did not. He then said to me, “I am Murtaza Ali and the Messenger of God has said and is still repeating it that he would not set his foot in paradise without you and would wait for you and enter the paradise with you.” I felt so happy and woke up. God is all powerful, and the Messenger is the intercessor. This suffices.

Dream 13: A woman in man’s dress
Tipu had crossed the Tungabhadra river in August 1786, and on October 1st made a surprise attack with only 300 men on the Maratha camp under general Haripant Phadke. The next day the Marathas were forced to retreat (Muhibbul Hasan, pp. 112-5).

Dream 13: A woman in mans’ clothes (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 7r)

Translation (Husain, pp. 63-4)

Prior to the night attack upon the Marhattas at Shahnur by the side of Devgiri, on the 6th of the month Khusrawi [7th month], of the year Busd [yr. 40, i.e. October 1786], I had a dream: It seemed to me as if a handsome young man, a stranger, came and sat down near me. I passed certain remarks in the manner in which one might, in a playful mood, talk to a woman. I then said to myself: “It is not my custom to enter into playful discourse with anyone.” Shortly thereafter, the youth rose, and walking a few paces, returned to loosen his hair from beneath his turban, and opening the fastenings of his robe, displayed his bosom, and I saw it was a woman. I immediately called and seated her and said to her: “Whereas formerly I had only guessed you were a woman, and I had cut jokes with you, it is now definite that you are a woman in the dress of a man. My conjecture has come true.” In the midst of this conversation the morning dawned, and I woke up. I conveyed the contents of the dream to other people and interpreted it thus: That please God those Marhattas have put on the clothes of men, but in fact will prove to be women. By the favour of God and the aid of His Messenger, on the 8th of the month and the year above mentioned, on the morning of Saturday, I made a surprise attack upon the army of the unbelievers. Advancing with two or three hundred men, I myself penetrated the camp of the unbelievers, crushing them as I went, as far as the tent of Hari Pant Pharkiah, and they all fled like women.

Dream 26: The expulsion of the English
The Third Anglo–Mysore War ended in 1792 with the Treaty of Seringapatam, and left Tipu Sultan attempting to rebuild his empire. Although they had not been much help to him, Tipu continued to look on the French as allies and was no doubt encouraged by their increasingly hostile anti-British and pro-invasion policies from 1796 onwards.

Dream 26: The expulsion of the English (British Library IO Islamic 3563, f. 12r)

Translation (Husain, p. 84)

On the 3rd of the month Razi [month 11], corresponding to the 1st of the month of Shaʻban, 1224 [January 1797], from the birth of Muhammad, on Monday, the night of Tuesday, at the metropolis, in the early hours of the morning, I had a dream: Raghunath Rao, the Marhatta agent, who had been to me before, appeared before me and said, “The English have suffered a crushing defeat in Europe and are now on the verge of leaving Bengal voluntarily.” On hearing his statement, I said, “That is fine, I will despatch troops as well as money; if God wills, the Nazarenes shall be expelled from India.”

Further reading

Mahmud Husain, The Dreams of Tipu Sultan: translated from the original Persian with an introduction and notes. Karachi, [1957].
Beatson, A., A View of the Origin and Conduct of the War with Tippoo Sultaun; comprising a narrative of the operations of the army under command of Lieutenant-General George Harris, and of the siege of Seringapatam. London, 1800
Mohibbul Hasan Khan, History of Tipu Sultan. Delhi, 1951
Kirkpatrick, W., Select Letters of Tippoo Sultan to Various Public Functionaries ... London, 1811, especially his notes on the calendar and Mauludi era, pp.xxvi-xxxvii
Brittlebank, Kate, “Among the Unbelievers: Non-Muslim Elements in Tipu Sultan's Dreams”, South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies, 33:1 (2010), pp 75-86.
–––   “Accessing the Unseen Realm: The Historical and Textual Contexts of Tipu Sultan's Dream Register”,  Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 21:2 (2011), pp 159-75.
Hossein Ziai, “Dreams and dream interpretation: ii. In the Persian tradition”, in Encyclopædia Iranica online.
Nidhin George Olikara, “Dawn of a new Era: Tipu Sultan and his Mauludi Calendar”, in his blog The Seringapatam Times.

 

Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies

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[1] Kate Brittlebank (Brittlebank 2011, p. 168) dates this dream to 18 November 1786, after dream 12, presumably because Haidari was originally the 8th month in the year. However according to Tipu's new evaluation (zar) based on abtath numerals, Haidari became the 6th month, so this dream, dated in the 6th month (Haidari) of the 40th year (Busd), would have taken place in September 1786.

Today we launch LibCrowds, a platform dedicated to the hosting of experimental crowdsourcing projects aimed at enhancing access to British Library collections.

The home page of LibCrowds

Our first project series, Convert-a-Card, is dedicated to the retro-conversion of printed card catalogues into electronic records, in order to make them available to a worldwide audience via our ExploreBL catalogue, which already includes nearly 57 million records.

The initial focus of Convert-a-Card is the Asian and African collections, and the catalogues involved are from the Chinese and the Indonesian collections.

The Chinese collections at the British Library contain more than 100,000 printed books and 2,500 periodical titles, some dating back to the founding of the British Museum in 1753. The Indonesian card catalogue documents nearly 4,000 printed books published before 1982, ranging from rare missionary works printed in Bengkulu, Ambon and Batavia in the early 19^th century, to first editions of some of the most important works of modern Indonesian literature.

A catalogue drawer in the Asian and African Studies Reading Room (photo ©Jon Ellis)

 

Example of a Chinese card catalogue, with Chinese characters and pinyin transliteration.

Records matched, located, transcribed or translated as part of Convert-a-Card will be uploaded to the British Library's Explore catalogue for anyone to search online. The platform has been developed in association with BL Labs, an initiative that invites researchers and developers experiment with the British Library’s physical and digital collections. All datasets generated via projects hosted on the platform, as well as the image sets used within projects, will be available for download via LibCrowds.

Click here for our video guide to Convert-a-Card.

Get started here!

For more information, visit the LibCrowds Community, or email [email protected]

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Sara Chiesura, Annabel Gallop, Alex Mendes, Nora Mc Gregor

 

A superlative exhibition Sultans of Deccan India opened at the Metropolitan Museum in New York in April with an important accompanying catalogue (Haidar and Sardar 2015).  The arts of the Deccan (upland peninsular India) are among the rarest survivals from Muslim India and the exhibition concentrated on its greatest period, namely 1500-1700, so that the quality of the exhibits was uniformly high.  The three major sultanates emerged from the earlier Bahmanid kingdom around 1490 and survived until conquered by the Mughals in the 17^th century, when most of their paintings and manuscripts seem to have perished. The British Library has an outstanding collection of this rare material and several of the key pieces from it were lent to the exhibition.

Chief among them perhaps is that rarest of all survivals, an illustrated Deccani manuscript from the 16^th century (Add. 16880).  This is the Pem-nem, a Sufi romance in Dakhni Urdu written by Hasan Manju Khalji under the pen name of Hans, and dedicated to that great patron of the arts, Sultan Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah II of Bijapur (r. 1580-1627) in 999/1590-91 (an unfortunate typo in the New York catalogue (no. 29) gives the date as 990/1590-91).   This seems to be both the autograph and the only known copy of the text.   Three campaigns of illustration can be discerned in the manuscript in three varying styles over perhaps a period of 20 years.

Shahji wanders in search of his beloved Mahji, whose image is ingrained on his heart.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.49v.

The story concerns Prince Shahji of Kuldip and his love for Mahji, a princess from Sangaldip, a love so ingrained in the prince that in a striking visual metaphor the beloved’s portrait is always present painted on his heart.

Shahji weeps streams of tears on realising that Mahji is only a reflection of the image in his heart. Hand B, Bijapur c. 1610.  British Library, Add. 16880, f.90v.

Having found his beloved, he believes that she is only a reflection of the ideal image that he has borne on his heart and he rejects her.

Flames of unrequited passion arise from Mahji  as she mourns for her lost beloved.  Hand C, Bijapur c. 1600.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.138.

They separate each to a year of mourning and reflection, but eventually Shahji comes to realise that she is the true beloved not an idealised image and the two are reunited in wedlock.

Shahi lifts Mahji into the bridal palanquin.  Hand A, Bijapur 1591.   British Library, Add. 16880, f.213v.

A full account of the story and its meaning along with illustrations of all the miniatures is given in a paper by Deborah Hutton (2011).  The tale is typical of the Prem kahani variety of Indian Sufi literature in being a metaphorical account of the search of the adept for God and in this instance not realising it when he has found it.

A royal picnic possibly of Burhan II Nizam Shah of Ahmadnagar (r. 1591-95).  Ahmadnagar, 1590-95.  British Library, Add.Or.3004

Among the greatest rarities of Deccani art are drawings or paintings from the third of the successor states to the Bahmanid kingdom, that of Ahmadnagar.  The British Library is fortunate in possessing a masterful drawing of an enthroned ruler in a garden enjoying an al fresco picnic (Add.Or.3004, Haidar and Sarkar no. 17).  The sultan is gazing fixedly at the musicians to his right, while abstractedly accepting pan from one of his pages.  Others listen to the music or supervise the preparation of food and wine.  The hawk and the bow seem more pictorial accessories than employed on a hunting expedition, suggesting perhaps the drawing is a study of different groupings rather than a finished composition.  The central grouping of the ruler and the page is closely linked to the great contemporary painting in the Bibliothèque Nationale showing an Ahmadnagar ruler again possibly Burhan II being offered pan by a page (ibid., no. 14).  This artist’s technique is wonderfully fluent in his calligraphic, expressive lines and his use of stippling and shading.  Influence from Mughal art has been suggested as a key element in his style, perhaps when Burhan was a refugee at the Mughal court from 1585.   The influence however comes from the early Akbari style of the early portraits and the Hamzanama (in train 1564-77).  More remarkable still are the pronounced Hindu elements of the style such as the vestiges of the projecting further eye of mediaeval Indian painting, the eyelashes protruding into space, the continued use of the Hindu full-profile portraiture tradition and the totally Hindu pose of the Sultan whose legs are arranged on his throne in the classic padmasana posture.   All of this suggests an artist tradition plucked from Vijayanagar after the fall of that Hindu empire to the combined Deccan sultans in 1564.

A Mullah.  Bijapur, c. 1610.  British Library, J.25, 14.

More paintings survive from Bijapur at this time than from Ahmadnagar and Golconda, all commissioned under the cultured rule of Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah.  One of his major artists, his name unknown, was a superlative portraitist.  He was responsible for another of the Library’s loans to New York, a portrait of a mullah wearing a distinctive turban wrapped round a red cap and an undyed shawl over this shoulders (ibid., no. 41).  The mullah’s upright bearing, staff and book seem the very embodiments of rigid orthodoxy but his keen and engaged gaze suggests an intelligent and enquiring mind.   He would have needed it in Ibrahim’s court, as the Sultan’s writings and images indicate an open mind towards Hinduism being devoted to Sarasvati, the goddess of music and learning.   The sternness of the portrait is relieved by the delightful touches of magical, all blue irises rising near his feet and two partridges busy hunting for food.

The colophon pages of a Qasida written by Mullah Nusrati in praise of ‘Abdallah Qutb Shah of Golconda (r. 1626-72).  Calligraphy by the son of Naqi al-Din Husaini.  Bijapur,  mid-17^th century.  British Library, Or. 13533, ff. 28v, 29

Finally also lent to New York were four folios of a spectacularly illuminated manuscript (Or. 13533, ibid., no. 61) of a qasida or panaegyric by Mullah Nusrati, the court poet of Bijapur under Sultan ‘Ali ‘Adil Shah II (r. 1656-72).  The qasida is in praise of Sultan ‘Abdallah Qutb Shah of Golconda (r. 1626-72).  Although Bijapur and Golconda were often inimically disposed towards each other, amity descended for a while after the marriage in 1633 of the Golconda Sultan’s sister, Khadija Sultana, to Sultan Muhammad ‘Adil Shah of Bijapur (r. 1627-56), and this apparently early work of Nusrati may reflect this state of affairs.  Every page is elegantly calligraphed by ‘Ali ibn Naqi al-Din Husaini against a gold ground and illuminated with cartouches, lozenges or boldly drawn flowers in brilliant colours in the typically Deccani palette of chocolate, lilac, pink and green.   Naqi al-Din was the famous calligrapher whose name is signed several times on the Ibrahim Rauza, the exquisite tomb of Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah built ca. 1627-35.

Further reading:
Haidar, N., and Sardar, M., Sultans of Deccan India 1500-1700s: Opulence and Fantasy, Metropolitan Museum, New York, 2015

Hutton, D., ‘The Pem-Nem:  a Sixteenth-Century Illustrated Romance from Bijapur’ in Haidar, N., and Sardar, M., eds., Sultans of the South: Arts of India’s Deccan Courts, 1323-1687, Metropolitan Museum, New York, 2011, pp. 44-63

Additional blogs of interest:
Rare portrait of Iklas Khan, the African Prime Minister of Bijapur, acquired by the British Library

An Album of Maratha and Deccani Paintings

 

J.P. Losty, Curator of Visual Arts (Emeritus)

The British Library has arranged a free trial of the online version of the JapanTimes Archives covering the years 1897-2013 .  The trial, which runs until 11 July 2015, allows users onsite in British Library reading rooms at St Pancras and Boston Spa to search the database from BL computer terminals.

Founded in 1897 The Japan Times is Japan’s oldest extant English-language newspaper.  It was launched on 22 March of that year by Zumoto Motosada 頭本 元貞 (1862−1943) and Yamada Sueji 山田季治 (1848−1916) with the backing of the leading politician Itō Hirobumi 伊藤博文 and the support of educator Fukuzawa Yukichi 福沢諭吉.  The intention was to provide the Japanese public with news and discussion in English, with the aim of encouraging greater awareness of international affairs and also to explain Japan's position on global issues.  Several English newspapers had been published in Japan since the 1860s, including a previous Japan Times (1865-1870) but they had all been founded and run by Westerners and were aimed primarily at overseas residents in Japan.

The Japan Times has changed its name a number of times over the years and was successively renamed The Japan Times and Mail (1918–1940) following its merger with The Japan Mail, The Japan Times and Advertiser (1940–1943) following its merger with The Japan Advertiser, and Nippon Times (1943–1956) owing to anti-English language sentiment during World War II, before reverting to the Japan Times in 1956.

The Japan Times Archives allows full-text searching of issues from March 1897 to December 2013 giving access to a information on a wide variety of topics and will be of use to researchers in a broad range of disciplines.

The free trial also covers access to the online version of the Japan Times covering the period from 1999 to the most current issue.

User feedback is welcomed and will be used to determine the business case for taking out a subscription to this electronic resource. Please contact me by email ([email protected]) with your views.

Link to online version (onsite access  only)

 

Hamish Todd, East Asian Collections

The Mahajanaka Jataka is one of the last Ten Birth Tales of the Buddha, which are popular themes in Thai mural and manuscript painting. In Thai folding books (samut khoi), the Ten Birth Tales are often used to illustrate a text with the title Mahabuddhaguna describing the Great Qualities of the Buddha (paramita). The Mahajanaka Jataka symbolises perseverance.
 

A typical folio from a Thai folding book containing a collection of Buddhist texts including the Mahabuddhaguna in Khom (Khmer) script. The illustrations depict Mahajanaka’s sinking ship with giant fish waiting to swallow the helpless humans. On the right is Mahajanaka clinging to a wood plank while a goddess comes to his rescue. British Library, Or.14559, f. 5.

The Mahajanaka Jataka tells the story of Prince Mahajanaka whose father was killed in battle and lost his kingdom before the prince was born. When he discovered the truth of his ancestry the prince vowed to regain his father’s kingdom. He set out on a seafaring voyage with the aim of building a fortune in a distant land so he could use the wealth to set up a powerful army. However, the ship sank in the middle of the ocean and everyone on board drowned or was killed by ferocious sea creatures - except the prince. He drifted in the ocean for seven days without food, but survived through the sheer strength of his determination and perseverance. Although he refused to implore the gods for help, a goddess named Manimekhala lifted him from the waters and flew him to the royal park of Mithila in his father’s kingdom, which he finally regained in an unusual way. Thereafter, he discovered the truths of life and left his kingdom to pursue spiritual attainment. It is the story of one who would rather perish than give up.
 

The goddess Manimekhala, believed to be the guardian of the seas in Thai Buddhist mythology, is often depicted with a body in bright blue or white colours. The illustration above is from an album of Thai character drawings from the 19th century. British Library, Or.14229, f. 13.

The illustrations in Thai manuscripts - which mostly date from the 18th and 19th centuries - capturing scenes from the Mahajanaka Jataka feature a variety of ficticious sea creatures. They show how Thai people at that time perceived the ocean, which they regarded as an integral part of the Buddhist cosmology.  The paintings reveal the ocean as an endless, constantly shifting and moving substance in cold colours, with waves that could easily swallow a large trade junk or a fleet of war ships. All sorts of creatures can hide under the water and appear on the ocean’s surface without warning.
 

Another scene from a 19th-century Thai Buddhist manuscript depicting the moment when Manimekhala lifts Mahajanaka from the water. The other people on the ship, representing various ethnic groups, struggle to survive while a mermaid and a merman watch the event. British Library, Or.16100, f. 3. 

The sea monsters that are believed to populate eight mythical oceans surrounding Mount Meru are fierce animals battling the waves, often with large teeth and bulging eyes, powerful tails or sword-like jaws. Other dangerous creatures are mermaids and mermen of beguiling beauty who try to pull humans under the water. Whereas some of the creatures do appear closer to real animals, like giant fish or swordfish, many of them are creations of the imagination of painters who had to rely on the verbal accounts of sailors or fishermen – stories which may often have been dramatised and embellished. Another source that painters would have used was the Thai Buddhist cosmology Traiphum, which includes descriptions of the eight mythical oceans.  
 

The eighth, or outer ocean that surrounds Mount Meru is shown in this illustration from a 19th-century Thai manuscript containing a collection of Buddhist texts together with the legend of Phra Malai. The world is shown to be resting on a giant fish at the bottom. Apart from the fish, one can see a mermaid (center) as well as Sang Thong, the boy born from a conch shell (Suvanna-Sankha Jataka), on the left. British Library, Or.16100, f. 96.

In contrast to Western descriptions of sea monsters, which often include water serpents or gigantic octopuses, water serpents do not usually appear in illustrations of the Mahajanaka Jataka. Whereas the creatures of the ocean are generally perceived as dangerous, death-bringing enemies of humans, serpents (naga) are regarded as potentially friendly to humans, and with a positive attitude towards the Buddha or a Buddha-to-be. The naga in the Thai tradition is not actually associated with the ocean, but is believed to reside on shore, for example in caves or in rivers.  


Mahajanaka’s rescue in a more abstract painting style with a bright red background and floral decorations. The outfits of the goddess and Mahajanaka are in the tradition of the late Ayutthaya  style. This Thai manuscript from the 18th century contains the Mahabuddhaguna and other extracts from the Pali canon. British Library, Or.14068, f. 3.

Manuals for artists that feature sea creatures have been produced in manuscript form at least since the early 19th century. From the mid-20th century on, numerous printed painters’ manuals were published. Nowadays these are also used by art students and tattoo artists.   

In 1996, King Bhumibol Adulyadej of Thailand published his own interpretation of the Mahajanaka Jataka, illustrated by cartoonist Chai Ratchawat. The book was re-published several times between 1997 and 2003 and has contributed significantly to the increased popularity of the Mahajanaka Jataka in Thailand.

Pages from an artists’ manual of characters from Thai mythology that was published in 1993. On the left one can see a mermaid and a merman, whereas on the right there are a sea cow and a sea deer.

Further reading:

Mahajanaka Jataka (full text version)
Phrabāt Somdet Phračhaoyūhūa Phūmiphon ʿAdunlayadēt, Rư̄ang Phra Mahāchanok = The story of Mahājanaka. Bangkok: Amarin, 2000. (YP.2007.b.628)
Sētthaman Kānčhanakun, Sēnsāi lāi Thai. Bangkok: Sukkhaphāpčhai, 1993 (YP.2009.b.89)

Jana Igunma, Henry Ginsburg Curator for Thai, Lao and Cambodian

Related articles

Happy New Year - with a splash of cool water!

In the centre of Addis Ababa in the Siddist Kilo area, stands a monument known as The Yekatit “February” 12 Square Monument. The obelisk was built in memory of the 30,000 civilians massacred by Fascists on the 19th February 1937. The indiscriminate massacre that lasted three days, was in reprisal for the attempted assassination of "the Butcher of Fezzan", the Viceroy of Italian East Africa, Rodolfo Graziani.

The Italian government carried out a substantial number of war crimes in Ethiopia from 1935–1940. The most notable being the use of mustard gas and the bombing of a field hospital run by the Swedish Red Cross. However the massacre of Addis Ababa and other mass killings are to this day repudiated by the Italian government ignoring overwhelming historical evidence to the contrary. 

 Ian Campbell,  the author of  The Plot to Kill Graziani (Addis Ababa University Press, 2010), and The Massacre of Debre Libanos (Addis Ababa University Press, forthcoming), has presented  discoveries from his extensive research into the massacre of Addis Ababa, the greatest single atrocity of the Italian occupation of Ethiopia, and a hitherto undocumented event. Most of the documents, maps, photos and official government papers used in Campbell’s research were obtained from Italy. According to Campbell and Alberto Sbacchi (see below), there are still vast quantities of “classified information” across Italy dealing with the war.

In a recent lecture held to promote his forthcoming book, Campbell pointed to the great efforts that went to conceal the historical records in Italy dealing with the 19 February 1937 massacre of Addis Ababa.  Thanks to the courageous efforts of both Italian and Ethiopian scholars to preserve written documents there are hundreds of thousands of letters, memos, blueprints, orders, bills, speeches, articles, memoirs, and confessions.

Many accounts from survivors, eyewitness testimonies, were published in Amharic books written just after the war. Unfortunately these books had short-print runs so are now rare and difficult to find. Fortunately the British Library possesses a number of these printed books which deserve renewed attention. The following selection of books held in library, provide an account of the massacre witnessed  by Ethiopians.

Megba Ḥeṡānāt (1948). On advice and moral guidance for children, e.g on “respecting one’s parents, obligation to the country”, etc. However, pages 27 to 44 contain letters the author (Yoḥanes  Rameḥa) wrote to noted Ethiopian patriots during the Italo-Ethiopian war. For example letters addressed to Ras Abebe Aregai, Dejjach Geresu Duki, Kabada Bezunesh and others.  The book is also signed by the author (British Library ORB 30/7857)

 Ya-'Amesetu ʻāmatāte Ḥezebāwi Tegele “The five years of people’s struggle”. On the  Italo-Ethiopian War; "the massacre of Debre Libanos". Pamphlet published in 1974 by the Ministry of Information on the occasion of the anniversary of liberation (British Library ORB 30/7864)

Ya-'Iṭāliyā Ya-Qeñe Gezāt Ḥelem “Italy’s Colonial Dream” (1974). On the Italo-Ethiopian War. Pamphlet published by the Ministry of Informationon the occasion of the anniversary of liberation (British Library ORB 30/7866)

Tebé 'Akesume Manu' Aneta? “Axum says, ‘Who are you?ʼ”(1959). An account of the history of foreign invasions of Ethiopia, up to the Italo-Ethiopian war of 1935 and on the history and development of the Ethiopic (Ge’ez ) alphabet (British Library 754. uu. 25)

 

Further reading
Campbell, I., The plot to kill Graziani: The attempted assassination of Mussolini's viceroy. Addis Ababa: Addis Ababa University Press, 2010
Sbacchi, A., Legacy of bitterness: Ethiopia and fascist Italy, 1935-1941. Lawrenceville, N.J.: Red Sea Press, 1997
Sbacchi, A., Ethiopia under Mussolini: Fascism and the colonial experience. London: Zed, 1985
Hardie, F., The Abyssinian crisis. London: Batsford, 1974

 

Eyob Derillo, Asian and African Studies