This week’s post is by guest writer Namrata B. Kanchan, PhD candidate at the University of Texas at Austin. Her dissertation examines the courtly Dakhni literary and manuscript culture between 1500 and 1700 CE.

One of the gems to emerge from the early modern Deccan manuscript corpus is a sumptuously illuminated Dakhni language qasida or panegyric poem (Or. 13533). Composed by Bijapur’s poet laureate Mullah Nusrati who was associated with the court of ‘Ali Adil Shah II’s (r. 1656-1672 CE), this work is dedicated to the Golconda Qutb Shahi, Sultan ‘Abdullah Qutb Shah (r. 1626-1672).

The opening lines of Nusrati’s qasida, Bijapur ca. 1630s? (British Library Or. 13533 ff. 3v. and 4r).

Although the text does not provide the reason for this poem’s creation, scholars surmise that it was a royal gift bestowed to the Golconda Sultan on the occasion of his sister Sultana Khadija’s wedding to Bijapur’s Sultan Muhammad ʻAdil Shah (r. 1626-1656) in 1633 (Ahmad, pp. 133-142). Continuing this Dakhni cultural legacy, the Sultana is one of the first known female patrons to commission the monumental illustrated Dakhni Khavarnamah (IO Islamic 834) completed in 1649.

Jamshid Shah with his consort and followers, Khavarnamah, Bijapur, ca. 1649, (British Library IO Islamic 834, f. 70v)

One of the premier genres of the Persianate literary cosmos (to which Bijapur and Golconda belonged), a qasida is, in essence, an encomium. Originating in Arabic literature, it was first cultivated in Persian by patrons under the Samanids (819-999) who were keen promoters of this new literary language. The genre soon became de rigeur in courts and flourished under the Ghaznavids (977-1186) during the eleventh century. One reason for its popularity in these two courts was that the poem was a paean to its patrons, predominantly newly minted rulers or nobles, who were eager to display their power and status. Additionally, this genre gained acclaim because it was beneficial for both the poet and the patron. A successful qasida sealed the poet’s relationship with a ruler and was important for social and financial success at the royal court. Furthermore, by extolling the virtues of an idealized ruler, the poem possessed a dual function. It sought to bestow immortality upon the patron and served a didactic role by guiding and encouraging the ruler to match the qualities expressed by the poet.

Apart from adulating patrons, poets composed these poems to memorialise marriages, victories, hunts, or annual feasts. The celebratory nature of the qasida meant that it was designed for performance and therefore recited in formal courtly gatherings. Not limited to Persian, this genre soon emerged in new languages across the Persianate sphere, which ultimately resulted in Nusrati’s composition of the Dakhni qasida.

In general, a single metre runs through a qasida and each hemistich terminates with the same rhyme. Yet rules for this genre, as opposed to the masnavi or the highly codified ghazal, were often not followed. In the Dakhni qasida,  Nusrati changes the rhyme scheme after a sequence of four to five couplets. 

A closer look at the manuscript reveals that no expense was spared in its creation. The gifted wordsmith Nusrati, who was a budding poet in the Bijapur court in the 1630s, was commissioned to compose the qasida. Similarly, the manuscript’s calligrapher ‘Ali ibn Naqi al-Husayni Damghani penned the encomium in elegant naskh. A Bijapuri native, ‘Ali Damghani emerged from a lineage of renowned calligraphers. His father Naqi al-Husayni was chief scribe of the calligraphic programme at Ibrahim Adil Shah II’s tomb, the Ibrahim Rauza, in Bijapur (Haider and Sarkar, p. 143).

The conclusion of Nusrati’s qasida, Bijapur ca. 1630s?  (British Library Or. 13533 f. 2v. and 3r)

This beautifully crafted manuscript commences with two dazzling shamsas or sun-shaped designs radiating from the centre of the folio. A large number of Persianate manuscripts produced for royalty opened with a shamsa, which symbolized divine light. Resembling a circular garden brimming with multi-hued floral patterns against a cream-coloured background, the identically shaped Bijapur shamsas, with slightly different colour compositions, emanate golden rays to mimic brilliant noon-day suns. The second shamsa folio also possesses some discreet writing on the top left corner signaling that this manuscript is composed of 24 folios. A blotted stain above the shamsa on folio 3r is perhaps evidence of a royal seal.


Shamsas at the beginning of Nusrati’s qasida, Bijapur ca. 1630s?  (British Library Or. 13533 f. 2v. and 3r)

Each subsequent folio (so delicate that they are currently preserved individually in glass-frames), painted in gold paint, possesses a border of vivid floral prints. Hemmed within is a rectangular box for the poetry. Although floral borders adorned deluxe Persian manuscripts, this is the first known Dakhni work where the borders of each open folio and its partner folio contain individual designs that resemble a series of golden flower strewn gardens punctuated with neat lines of exquisite calligraphy in a midnight black ink.

Nusrati’s qasidah, Bijapur ca. 1630s? (British Library Or. 13533 f. 5v. and 6r)

In many ways, this exquisitely illuminated manuscript signals the apogee of book arts and Dakhni literature in seventeenth-century Bijapur. Any reputed poet could have composed the qasida in Persian but the use of this local vernacular and the commissioning of Nusrati, a poet known for his mastery over Dakhni poetry, demonstrates the popularity of and pride in the indigenous language. Although slim in volume, the manuscript exudes grandeur in every bejeweled folio replete with beautiful poetry and refined penmanship. If indeed this manuscript was a wedding gift from the house of Bijapur to Golconda, it gestures towards the significance of these marital alliances. Weddings were not simply the union of couples or occasions to display a kingdom’s wealth and status. In the Deccan, such partnerships were crucial for political survival, especially in the face of looming Mughal annexation.

 

Namrata B. Kanchan,  University of Texas at Austin

Further Reading

Ahmad, Nizamuddin. Hadiqat al-Salatin. Edited by Syed Ali Asgar Bilgrami. Hyderabad: Idarah-e Adabiyat-e Urdu, 1961.
Haidar, Navina Najat and Marika Sardar. Sultans of Deccan India, 1500-1700: Opulence and Fantasy. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2015.
Husain, Ali Akbar. Scent in the Islamic Garden: A Study of Deccani Urdu Literary Sources. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Shackle, Christopher. “Settings of Panegyric: The Secular Qasida in Mughal and British India,” in Christopher Shackle and Stefan Sperl ed., Qasida Poetry in Islamic Asia and Africa, vol. 1 Leiden; New York: E.J. Brill, 1996.

Depictions of ceremonial and Talipot fans, like many other objects of everyday use, are very common in Thai manuscript paintings. Ceremonial fans, or fans of honour and veneration, are called Phatyot (พัดยศ) in Thai, whereas Talipot fans are known as Talapat (ตาลปัตร), referring to the leaf of the Talipot palm. If used in royal ceremonies, Talipot fans are called Wanwichani (วาลวิชนี); however, this term is also used for royal fans made of different materials, including hairs from elephant tails or yak hair in the shape of a whisk. Images of fans can be found in manuscript illustrations accompanying a variety of texts, both of a Buddhist and secular nature: the Great Perfections of the Buddha (Mahabuddhaguna), the legend of the monk Phra Malai, Phrommachat divination manuals, or extracts from canonical scriptures selected for funeral and commemoration books.

Four monks with Talipot fans at a funeral wake. Illustration in a folding book containing Tipitaka extracts from and the Mahabuddhaguna. Central Thailand, 18th century. British Library, IO Pali 207, f. 64

Talipot fans were originally made from the leaves of the Talipot palm (Corypha umbraculifera). This tree, which can grow to over 75 years old, produces large palmate plaited leaves over 5 m wide. One fully grown leaf can have a weight of 40-50 kg. The palm puts up a magnificent inflorescence of up to 10 m in size, but only once before it dies. The leaves have an excellent durability, therefore they were used in South and Southeast Asia to make thatches, mats, hats, umbrellas, fans as well as palm leaf manuscripts.


Talipot palm with fully grown inflorescence, photographed in Sri Lanka in 1885. British Library, Photo 430/5(3)

There are several ways to make a traditional Talapat fan from a Talipot leaf. One popular method uses a young leaf or bud that has a stem of approximately 30 cm length. The bud is unfolded and dried in the sun for several days. It can also be soaked in water that is infused with insect-repelling herbs, and then dried and pressed before it is cut to a round or oval shape. Fans in the oval shape are called Pat Na Nang (fan in the shape of a lady’s face) in Thai. The size of the fan depends on the purpose and the person who is going to use it.

The folds are sewn together and a frame made from bamboo splints, rattan or metal wire is attached. Three types of specially-made wooden or bamboo handles can be attached to hold the fan: a handle in the shape of a 20-30 cm long hook or stick attached in a right angle at the bottom of the bud; a handle of 20-70 cm length attached straight at the bottom of the bud (the short size for hand-held fans, the longer size for floor fans to be placed on a stand); or a handle up to 70 cm long attached to the frame on the side of the leaf. Finally, the frame and handle can be decorated with lacquer and gold leaf. Sometimes the frame is covered with cloth that is sewn on.


Illustration of a woman holding a fan made from a Talipot leaf with a right-angled handle, in a Mon copy of a Thai divination manual (Phrommachat). Ayutthaya or Burma, c. 1750-1820. British Library, Or 14532, f. 15

Monk carrying a Talapat made from a Talipot leaf with an attached straight handle. Illustrated in a folding book containing Tipitaka extracts. Central Thailand, late 18th century. British Library, Or 14048, f. 3

Modelled on the fan made from a Talipot leaf are fans made in different ways and from different materials: woven palm leaves or other natural fibers, feathers, or textiles. The latter could be discarded monks’ robes, handwoven pieces of ikat or silk brocade, velvet, fabric embroidered with gold thread, sequins or glass beads, painted cloths etc. Occasionally, Talipot fans were also lacquered and decorated with mother-of-pearl inlay or mirror-glass inlay, and the handle could be made from ivory. Such fans were – and still are - used as ceremonial fans by monks and novices, or they can be presented as gifts of honour to commemorate an important monastic or royal event that is celebrated with a ceremony.

Prince Vessantara holding a fan made from peacock feathers. The old Brahmin Jujaka has a broken Talapat in his shoulder bag. Illustrated in a folding book containing Tipitaka extracts. Central Thailand, late 18th century. British Library, Or 14068, f. 13

Talapat are not part of the obligatory requisites of monastics, but they are often used in Buddhist ceremonies by monks to hide their face while chanting canonical scriptures so that the words of the Buddha are not being identified with the face of the reciting monk. Another popular opinion about the origin of monastic fans refers to the tradition of meditations on the foul, saying that monks first used Talapat to help them cope with the stench of decaying corpses while meditating.

Fans are often included in Kathina offerings or gifts on occasion of the ordination of a new novice or monk, passing a monastic exam, anniversaries of monastic ordinations, and when a monk is bestowed a rank or an honorary title. Especially during the time of King Chulalongkorn (Rama V) offerings of elaborately decorated Phatyot as fans of rank and honour became fashionable. Phatyot can be made in the round shape of a lotus flower, the elongated shape of a lotus bud, or a Khao Bin offering (sweet rice offering shaped like a lotus bud) with a flame-like edge. The name of the monk, his rank and/or an occasion can be embroidered on the front face of the fan. Thus, fans in the Thai cultural context can also be seen as symbols of authority for monks, or generally as status symbols.


Comical or pretend monks at a funeral wake; one holding a fan made with embroidered cloth. Illustrated in a folding book containing extracts from the Tipitaka. Central Thailand, 1841. British Library, Or 15925, f. 21

Illustration of monks with a lavishly decorated Phatyot fan with a long floor handle. Illustrated in a folding book containing the story of Phra Malai and Tipitaka extracts. Central Thailand, 19th century. British Library, Or 14664, f. 3 

Little is known as to when the Talipot fan was first made: one can assume that it is an everyday object as old as humankind, primarily made for the purpose of air ventilation. However, there is a reference to a fan made from a palm leaf in the seventh chapter of the Story of the Novice Monk in the Arahanta-vagga, Dhammapada, which suggests that the Talipot fan was already in use by monastics during the lifetime of Gotama Buddha over 2500 years ago.

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

Further reading
Khin Saw Oo: Culture Value of Myanmar Hand Fan (Talipot-palm Fan). Paper presented at the 2nd International Conference on Burma/Myanmar Studies, 16-18 February 2018, Mandalay.
Igunma, Jana: Talipot and ceremonial fans in Thai manuscript art. SEALG Newsletter no. 54 (Dec. 2022), pp. 20-38
Phra Maha Min Thiritsaro: Phatyot samanasak phrasong Thai. Bangkok, 2016
Talapat. In: Traditional objects of everyday use. Princess Maha Chakri Sirindhorn Anthropology Centre (retrieved 28/12/2022)

With the British Library exhibition Alexander the Great: The making of a Myth drawing to a close, I would like to highlight one of my special favourites: the Emperor Akbar’s personal copy of Nizami’s Khamsah (Quintet) of which the fifth poem, the Iskandarnamah, is a two part account of the life of Alexander the Great or Iskandar as he is called in Persian.

The priestess pleads with Iskandar to spare the sanctuary idol from destruction. Artists La'l and Mukund. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, ff.317v-318r)

Commissioned by Akbar (r.1556–1605) in Lahore between 1593 and 1595, this manuscript represents what was without doubt an intensely personal project and combines the work of the best artists at his court. With 37 highly original paintings, luxurious illumination, marginal decorations and binding, this Khamsah  was one of a small group of deluxe Persian manuscripts which also include Jami’s  Baharistan (Bodleian MS. Elliott 254) and the Khamsah  of Amir Khusraw (Walters Ms. W. 624), all produced around the same time in Lahore. In his monumental survey of 1912, the collector and art historian F.R. Martin wrote of it: “Without exception it is the most wonderful Indian manuscript in Europe.” Originally the manuscript contained 44 illustrations, but at some point 39 folios including five illustrated leaves, were extracted and are now in the Walters Art Museum Baltimore Walters Ms. W.613. Two of the original paintings are now lost and an additional portrait of the calligrapher ʻAbd al-Raḥīm ʻAnbarīn Qalam and the artist Dawlat were added at the end in 1610 by order of Jahangir.

With 16 of the 44 illustrations devoted to the Iskandarnamah, it is easy to see Akbar's special affinity with Alexander the Great. Nizami in the early 12th century was the first to qualify Iskandar (Iqbalnamah 29:4) with the adjective Sahib-qiran (Lord of the Conjunction)[1]. Several rulers styled themselves this way, most notably Akbar’s honoured ancestor Timur, founder of the Timurid dynasty in 1370[2]. Like Alexander, Akbar was a successful conqueror, but more particularly Nizami’s portrayal of Alexander as a philosopher-king would have appealed to Akbar who promoted himself as a just and tolerant ruler.

In the opening we used for the exhibition (see above) the double-page illustration has a special significance. Here we see Iskandar at a Buddhist sanctuary at Kandahar receiving an impassioned plea from the priestess who asks for the golden statue, with precious jewels as its eyes, to be left unharmed. Iskandar had ordered it to be dismantled but moved by her passion and beauty, he agreed to spare it. Placed right at at the end of the Khamsah, this painting has a special significance, as pointed out by Barbara Brend (Akbar's Khamsa, p. 61). Iskandar is compared by implication with the Mughal emperor Akbar who had taken Kandahar from the Safavids of Iran without bloodshed in April 1595, while this manuscript was still in the process of completion. Akbar’s interest in other religions apart from Islam, exemplified by the establishment of his own syncretic faith, the Din-i ilahi (Divine Faith) in 1582, parallels here Iskandar’s own role as a tolerant philosopher-king.

Sadly, in the exhibition we could only display one opening from each manuscript, so to give a flavour of the whole volume, I have described some further examples here.

Iskandar with Nushabah, queen of the women-only city of Barda, in today’s Azerbaijan. Iskandar had visited the queen in disguise, but she immediately exposed him as an imposter by presenting him with his own portrait which she had had painted earlier. Reprimanding him, she nevertheless forgave him and they feasted together before he went on his way.
Artist, Bhura. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f. 244v)

Not wishing to engage in war, King Kayd of Hind offered Iskandar four gifts as tribute: his daughter in marriage, his all-knowing philosopher, his personal physician and his never-emptying goblet. This scene shows his envoy's reception at Iskandar's camp. Iskandar accepted Kayd's gifts and so bloodshed was avoided.
Artist, Dharamdas. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f. 254r)

The story of Mani the 3rd-century founder of Manichaeism who was also famous as an artist, is told as an interlude in a contest between the artists of Chin and Rum. Hearing that the prophet Mani was on his way to China, the Chinese, to discourage him, created a false reservoir out of crystal. When the thirsty Mani placed his earthenware drinking vessel on it, it broke. To prevent others from doing the same, Mani, pictured here with his tools, painted the decaying corpse of a dead dog on the surface. Through this action and his wisdom, Nizami tells us, Mani made many converts.
Artist, Sur Gujarati. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.262v)

As Iskandar’s power and dominions increased, so too did his preoccupation with dying. Searching for immortality, his journey led him into the Land of Darkness in an unsuccessful search for the Water of Life. Nizami gives three different accounts of the search for the Water of Life, which he refers to as Zoroastrian, Byzantine, and Arab versions. Pictured here is the so-called Zoroastrian version in which Iskandar gave the prophet Khizr his grey horse – a gift from the ruler of Chin – and sent him into the Darkness with a special stone which would light up and reveal the fountain. Khizr located it, drank and washed himself and his horse, but when they had finished, the fountain disappeared.
Artist, Kanak Singh Chela. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.281r)

This illustration comes in the Iqbalnamah, the second of the two books of the Iskandarnamah, which describes Iskandar's prophetic mission. In this episode, after solitary reflection in a barrel (echoes of Diogenes), Aflatun (Plato) obtained full comprehension of the music of the spheres and created an instrument whereby he could make all animals sleep and then rouse them again to consciousness. The scene itself is reminiscent of hunting scenes in which Akbar surveys his catch, as for example on the doublure of the binding of this same volume.
Artist, Madhu. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.298r)

Here Alexander is depicted as a philosopher-king and questions the origin of the universe from his seven philosophers: Valens, Apollonius, Socrates, Porphyry, Hermes and Plato. Having listened to each in turn, he declared that, in view of their contradictory opinions, the only certainty could be that there was no creation without a creator. By resorting to enlightenment rather than reason, Iskandar was acknowledged as supremely wise and thereby achieved prophethood.
Artist, Nanha. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.305r)

Despatched on a prophetic mission by the angel Srosh, Iskandar explored the Western regions and at the edge of the world encountered a shore where there were many coloured stones, blue, red, yellow and black, each weighing about five to ten pounds. If a person looked at one of these stones, he laughed so much that he died. Iskandar ordered the rocks to be covered with cloth and loaded onto 100 camels. Hastening along the shore he used them to build a fortress without doors and covered the exterior with clay to protect passers by. But whoever climbed over to see the interior, would be exposed to the bare rocks and die.
Artist, Bhem Gujarati. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.312v)

We are indebted to the Kusuma Trust, the Patricia G. and Jonathan S. England – British Library Innovation Fund and Ubisoft for their support towards the exhibition, as well as other trusts and private donors.

Ursula Sims-Wiliams, Lead Curator Persian, British Library

 

Other illustrations in Akbar's Iskandarnamah

• The invention of the mirror in the presence of Alexander the Great. Artists, Nanha and Shivdas (Walters Ms. W.613, f.16b and f.17a)
• The death of Darius. Artist, Dharamdas (Walters Ms. W613, f.26b)
• Alexander the Great enthroned at Persepolis. Artist, Bem Gujarati (Walters Ms. W613, f.34a)
• The women of Qipchak are persuaded to veil themselves on seeing a veiled talisman. Artist, Mukund (Or.12208, f.266v)
• The Russian champion who tore off an elephant's trunk. Artist, Farrukh Chela (Or.12208, f.273r)
• Maria, the Copt trained in the art of alchemy consulted by other alchemists. Artist, Sanwala. Lahore, 1593-5 (Or.12208, f.294r)

Further reading

Barbara Brend, The Emperor Akbar’s Khamsa of Niẓāmī. London: British Library, 1995.
J.P. Losty and Malini Roy, Mughal India: Art, Culture and Empire. London: The British Library, 1912, pp. 48-55.
Haila Manteghi, Alexander the Great in the Persian Tradition: History, Myth and Legend in Medieval Iran. London: I.B. Tauris, 2018.

Related posts

• Alexander the ‘Accursed’ and Zoroastrianism
• Alexander’s origins: a Persian Perspective
• Alexander / Iskandar: Ancestor of Malay Kings
• A beloved in every port: Iskandar's encounters with women
• Alexander, Meet İskender: Turkic Manuscripts on Alexander the Great
• Alexander the Great in Firdawsi's Book of Kings
• Alexander the Great: The Making of a Myth

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[1] Owen Cornwall, Alexander and the Persian Cosmopolis, 1000-1500, PhD thesis Columbia Unversity, 2016, pp. 91-9.
[2] Naindeep Singh Chann, “Lord of the Auspicious Conjunction: Origins of the Ṣāḥib-Qirān” Iran and the Caucasus 13 (2009) 93-110

In his epic the Shahnamah (Book of Kings), the poet Firdawsi (940–1019 or 1025) vividly describes how Alexander (Iskandar/Sikandar) came upon the Persian emperor Darius (Dara) as he fled north after the battle of Gaugamela in 331 BC. Cradling the mortally wounded Dara on his knees, Iskandar promised “Your word is my command, I’ll promise you whatever you want.” (Shahnamah, Dara 9.42). The dying king’s last wishes were for Iskandar to look after his children, his family and to marry his daughter Roshanak, that their son should safeguard the Zoroastrian religion and live by the Zoroastrian scriptures, the Zend-Avesta, while keeping the traditional feasts of Sadeh and Noruz and preserving the Zoroastrian fire-temples.

Iskandar comforts the dying Dara. From Firdawsi’s Shahnamah. Iran, 1604 (IO Islamic 966, f. 335r)

Although Alexander readily kept the first two promises, his need to consolidate power within Iran soon put an end to any good intentions he might have held with regard to the Zoroastrian religion. One of his first actions after ascending the throne was to destroy the fire-temples, thus attempting to eliminate all Zoroastrian opposition. In the few examples of Middle Persian literature which survive today, Alexander is demonised and referred to as gizistag ‘accursed.’

Among the most important of the Zoroastrian Middle Persian texts is the Bundahishn (Creation) which describes Alexander’s conquest in these terms:

He killed king Dārāy, destroyed all the family of the lords and the magi and the notables of Iran. He extinguished many fires. He took the religion of the Mazdaean dēn [religion] and the Zand [religious commentaries] and sent them to Rome and burned the Avesta and divided Iran among ninety provincial lords. (Bundahishn 33.19, tr. Thrope & Agostini, p. 173)

This account, written during the early Islamic period, reflects ninth-century traditions which were to some extent already anachronistic. In fact the Zoroastrian scriptures, the Avesta, were transmitted orally and were not written down before the fifth century AD at the earliest.

“Know that Iskandar burned our religious books written on 12,000 oxhides.” From the Letter of Tansar, in Ibn Isfandiyar’s History of Tabaristan. Iran, 1656 (Add MS 7633, f. 10r)

Middle Persian accounts survive to some extent in the early Arabic and Persian histories and in translations and retranslations. One example is the thirteenth-century historian Ibn Isfandiyar’s Tarikh-i Tabaristan (History of Tabaristan) which preserves a translation of the Middle Persian Letter of Tansar, written in the sixth century but now lost in its original form. Allegedly written by Tansar, the Zoroastrian chief priest of Ardashir I (r.224–241), the hostile and negative view of Alexander is in fact an example of Sasanian propaganda dating from the sixth century, several centuries later. Although reported second or third-hand, it is nevertheless important as representing a specifically Zoroastrian point of view and one which was repeated by the early Islamic historians.

Although Alexander was reinvented in the Persian tradition as the rightful heir to the Achaemenid empire, the Zoroastrian perception of him remained hostile. Even in Firdawsi’s Shahnamah he is described by Ardashir, founder of the Sasanian dynasty (224–651) as “the evil-minded (badgumān) tyrant who killed our ancestors one by one” (Shahnamah, Ashkaniyan 10.15).

In later literature however, Alexander was more generally regarded as an Islamic hero. This was largely due to his identification with Dhu’l-Qarnayn (‘two-horned’) whose story is told in Surah 18 of the Qurʼan.[1]

The sorceress Azar Humayun, transformed into a dragon, defends her fire temple. From Nizami’s Sharafnamah (Book of Honour). Iran, 16th century (IO Islamic 387, f. 337v)

In the twelfth-century poet Nizami’s Sharafnamah, the first book of his two-part Iskandarnamah (History of Alexander), Zoroastrianism is linked closely to treasure, magic and young maidens celebrating immodestly at the fire-temple. The bare facts are given: Iskandar ordered the fire-temples and the Zoroastrian books to be destroyed, but the story Nizami uses to illustrate them tells of a beautiful sorceress, Azar Humayun, who turned herself into a dragon to defend her temple. She was eventually defeated by the magic of Iskandar’s philosopher, the magician Balinas (Apollonius), and was restored to her original form. As a nod to propriety her life was spared and she was respectably married off to Balinas as a reward.

Alexander’s role as an Islamic hero was continued in later works such as the Aʼinah-ʼi Iskandari (Iskandar’s Mirror) by Amir Khusraw Dihlavi (1253–1325) and the Khiradnamah-ʼi Iskandari (Iskandar’s Wisdom) by ʻAbd al-Rahman Jami (1414–1492). In them the destruction of Zoroastrianism and the fire-temples is not denied but reinterpreted positively as a pious act to promote Islam.

Alexander discusses the merits of fire and fire-worship with his wise men and resolves to destroy the fire-temples. From Amir Khusraw’s A’inah-ʼi Iskandari. Iran, 1497–98 (Or.11327, f. 174v)

See these items on display in the British Library exhibition Alexander the Great: The Making of a Myth, open until 19 February 2023. Visit our dedicated website to find out more.

We are indebted to the Kusuma Trust, the Patricia G. and Jonathan S. England – British Library Innovation Fund and Ubisoft for their support towards the exhibition, as well as other trusts and private donors.

Ursula Sims-Williams, Lead Curator Persian, British Library

 

Further reading

Josef Wiesehofer, “The ‘Accursed’ and the ‘Adventurer’: Alexander the Great in Iranian tradition.” In David Zuwiyya (ed), A Companion to Alexander Literature in the Middle Ages. Leiden: Brill, 2011, pp. 113-32.

Haila Manteghi, Alexander the Great in the Persian Tradition: History, Myth and Legend in Medieval Iran. London: I.B. Tauris, 2018.

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[1] See Kevin van Bladel, ‘The Alexander Legend in the Qur'an 18:83-102’. In Reynolds, Gabriel Said (ed.), The Quran in its Historical Context. London: Routledge, 2008, pp. 191-219.

 

Stories about Alexander the Great’s descent from gods and heroes - the most famous of which being his mother Olympia’s relationship with Amon/Zeus - were disseminated as he travelled across the world. By promoting such mythical connections, Alexander and his successors gained political legitimacy. Greco-Roman gods and heroes were assimilated into the myths of newly conquered lands and so mitigated Alexander’s position as an outsider/foreigner allowing him to be accepted and understood by the indigenous people. This narrative strategy was further enhanced by the Greek Alexander Romance which first emerged towards the end of the third century AD and was subsequently translated into Syriac, Hebrew, Persian and Arabic.

Darab, king of Persia, captures ʻAmuriyah. From the Dārābnāmah by Abu Tahir Tarsusi. Mughal 1580-85, artist, Mani (Or.4615, f.127r)

Iranian stories about Alexander were influenced by the Alexander Romance, as well as a number of Pahlavi, Syriac and Arabic sources. In Firdawsi’s epic history, the Shāhnāmah (‘Book of Kings’), and many other Iranian sources such as the twelfth-century Darābnāmah (‘Story of Darab’) by Abu Tahir Muhammad Tarsusi, Alexander’s mother is the princess Nahid, daughter of Filqus (Philip) the king of Rum (Rome), who is married to Darab, king of Iran. According to the Shāhnāmah, Filqus gathered an army to attack Iran. The war lasted three days, and Filqus was defeated. Filqus sent a messenger with gifts to Darab to make peace and Darab, informed by his courtiers that Filqus had a beautiful daughter, requested her in marriage. All went well until one night, Darab smelt an unpleasant odour from Nahid’s mouth. Although physicians cured it, Darab rejected her and sent her back to Rum. Unknown to him, she was pregnant. Since Filqus did not want anyone to know his daughter’s story or that she was pregnant by Darab, when the baby was born, Filqus adopted him as his own son. Nahid called the baby Iskandar. When Iskandar subsequently conquered Darab’s son and successor, Dara (Darius III), it was his half-brother he defeated and being half Persian himself, he became the legitimate heir to the throne.

King Philip's envoy Filasun, brings gifts to king Darab of Persia. From the Dārābnāmah by Abu Tahir Tarsusi. Mughal 1580-85, artist Dargha (Or.4615, f.128r)


A point of interest is Nahid’s name. Rather than being a Persianised Greek form such as Filqus for Philip, her name is the Persian form of Avestan (Old Iranian) Anahita (‘immaculate’), the ancient Iranian goddess of water to whom a special Zoroastrian hymn is dedicated. Firdawsi completed the Shāhnāmah in 1020 but drew on many pre-Islamic sources including oral narratives and the now lost Sasanian Khudāynāmah. The name Nahid therefore has special Zoroastrian connotations though it is strange that if her name refers to the immaculate Anahita why did she become ‘maculate’ and suffer from bad odour in this narration? A possible solution is that the Sasanian Khudāynāmahs described her negatively simply through her association with Alexander/Iskandar whom they regarded as gizistag/gujastag (‘accursed’) because as a grown man he reputedly burned their scriptures and destroyed their temples, and that her name was disassociated from its original meaning. In their view Nahid was merely the daughter of the Roman Emperor and the mother of the accursed Alexander.

Nahid, daughter of Filqus (Philip of Macedon), is presented to Darab. From the Dārābnāmah by Abu Tahir Tarsusi. Mughal 1580-85 (Or. 4615, f 129r)

Also noteworthy is Nahid and Filqus’ association with the city ʻAmuriyah, identified with Armorium, a city in Phrygia in Asia Minor founded during Seleucid rule. It was ʻAmuriyah rather than Macedonia that was Filqus’ base and from which Iskandar summoned his mother before his marriage with Dara’s daughter Roshanak (Roxana). Situated on the edge of the Sasanian Empire, it was a centre of mixed Hellenistic and Iranian cultures.

Alexander/Iskandar was the last of the Kayanid dynasty, tracing his ancestry directly back to the legendary hero Isfandiyar and king Kai Kavus. With such a genealogy, his story inevitably includes elements of ancient Iranian mythology, but that is another story!

Alireza Sedighi, Asian and African Collections, British Library¹

The Darabnamah is currently on display until 19 February 2023 in the British Library exhibition Alexander the Great: The Making of a Myth. Visit our dedicated website to find out more.

We are indebted to the Kusuma Trust, the Patricia G. and Jonathan S. England – British Library Innovation Fund and Ubisoft for their support towards the exhibition, as well as other trusts and private donors.

Further Reading

Khāliqi Muṭlaq, Jalāl. “Az Khudāynāmah tā Shāhnāmah: justārī darbārah-i maʾākhiz̲-i mustaqīm va ghayr-i mustaqīm-i Shāhnāmah,” Nāmah-i Īrān-i Bāstān (2007).
Manteghi, Haila. Alexander the Great in the Persian tradition: history, myth and legend in medieval Iran. London: I.B. Tauris, (2018).
Zarrīnkūb, Rūzbih, “Khudāynāmah,” in Markaz-i Dāʾirat al-Maʿārif-i Buzurg-i Islamī, Latest update (2019).

 

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¹ With thanks to my colleagues, Ursula Sims-Williams, William Monk and Pardaad Chamsaz for their comments on the first draft of this blog.