On 20 February 1957, a grim-faced Dwight D. Eisenhower told a national television audience that America would support United Nations sanctions unless Israel pulled out of Gaza and all other Egyptian territory seized during the 1956 Suez Crisis. Stunned by this diplomatic thunderbolt, the Israelis quickly agreed to withdraw their forces. Yet ten years later, when a preemptive war against the Arabs brought Israel not only Gaza but also Jordan's West Bank and Syria's Golan Heights, the United States acquiesced. For two decades, this reversal of U.S. policy has usually been regarded as the handiwork of one man—Lyndon B. Johnson. Observers as diverse as Edward Tivnan, Cheryl Rubenberg, and I. L. Kenen, for example, have contended that Washington's tilt toward Tel Aviv during the mid-1960s stemmed in large measure from deepening ties between the Johnson White House and what many have come to call “the Israel lobby.” Scholars such as Ethan Nadelmann and William Quandt, on the other hand, have downplayed Johnson's preoccupation with interest-group politics and emphasized instead his admiration for Israel's muscular doctrine of self-defense. Rare is the author who, like Donald Neff, has been able to capture the blend of domestic and diplomatic considerations that prompted Johnson to cement the special relationship with Israel. Rarer still is someone like Steven Spiegel, who has linked Johnson's pro-Israel policies to initiatives launched by his two predecessors in the Oval Office.

During the last three or four decades, modern scholarship has increasingly come to recognize Muhammad Ibn Idris al-Shafiʿi (d. 820) as having played a most central role in the early development of Islamic jurisprudence. It was Joseph Schacht who, more than anyone else, demonstrated Shafiʿi's remarkable success in anchoring the entire edifice of the law not only in the Qurʾan, which by his time was taken for granted, but mainly, and more importantly, in the traditions of the Prophet. Shafiʿi's prominent status has been further bolstered by the fact that he was the first Muslim jurist ever to articulate his legal theory in writing, in what has commonly become known as al-Risāla.

My interest in the religious lesson (dars) springs from field research on religious life in a Transjordanian village conducted intermittently over a period of thirty years, beginning in 1959 and culminating in a (1989) book on the Muslim preacher and the Islamic sermon (khuṭba). That book did not describe or analyze the dars, but it assumed that its content was distinctive and different from the khuṭba. It expounded practical rather than legal norms of behavior and provided useful information on day-to-day religious obligations, what constituted violations of mores, and the rituals of marriage, birth, and death, rather than conveying meaning through core images and metaphors. The assumption was that the sermon dealt mainly with messages of religious exhortation and the lesson dealt with the legal and ritual aspects of religion. I also assumed that the ethos of the dars allowed ritual freedom and a fair amount of give-and-take between preacher and audience, while the khuṭba was informed by an ethos of ritual order. In terms of rhetoric, I assumed that although the sermon often involved a “transformation of quality [imaginative] space” (the phrase is that of James Fernandez), the lesson did not. Finally, I assumed that the lesson emphasized the preacher's role as “home-town boy” (ibn al-balad) far more than the sermon did, as expressed, for instance, in its dependence on colloquial speech and minimal use of theological themes. The detailed description and analysis below has led me to reconsider these assumptions.

On 27 February 1958, General Valiollah Qarani, commander of the Iranian army's intelligence staff (G-2), was arrested on charges of engaging in political activity, a practice that was forbidden at the time for all Iranian government employees. Dozens of other Iranians from a variety of political persuasions were also arrested or interrogated by the security forces in connection with Qarani's arrest. In a brief flurry of newspaper stories and official statements, it was alleged that Qarani and his collaborators had been conspiring with an unnamed foreign power—generally understood to be the United States—against the Shah's regime. Qarani was tried in the summer of 1958 and given a three-year prison term. He remained on the margins of Iranian political life until 1979, when he served briefly as chief of staff of the Iranian armed forces in the first postrevolutionary government. He was assassinated in April 1979 by the mysterious Islamic terrorist group Forqan.

In 1918 British and French troops occupied the Arabic-speaking regions of the Ottoman Empire and by 1920 had expelled the Arab nationalist regime in Damascus and divided the area between themselves as they had agreed to do in the Sykes–Picot treaty signed two years earlier. Out of their share, the French created in 1920 the two Mandates of Syria and Lebanon with their own locally recruited military organization, first called the Syrian Legion and later the Troupes Spéciales, which were combined for both countries.

During the winter and spring of 1990 Farghanachi Uzbek refugees from Afghanistan were the subjects of my ethnographic research in Karachi, Pakistan, where they form an unregistered community. The Farghanachi frequently play cassette tapes that explain the ongoing jihad in Afghanistan through stories about the Prophet Muhammad. Women and children use the tapes to accompany conversation and to facilitate discussion of Islam and martyrdom; occasionally they cry at the stories, which remind them of their own dead kin, the extraordinary circumstances of jihad, and their transformed lives. This paper draws conclusions about the ideal roles of women in jihad from a tape recorded in Baghlan province in northern Afghanistan. On the tape the exemplary behavior of a mother, wife, and daughter during the famous battle of Uhud that Muhammad and his followers fought against the Meccans is recounted. The infamous Hind the liver eater—who symbolizes the brutality and violence of female vengeance—is ultimately vanquished by these good women.