The first chapter sets out the historical context of Arabic learning across the early modern western Indian Ocean by discussing people, practices, and places that constituted this field from the fifteenth to seventeenth centuries and how scholarship has engaged with this transregional formation so far. It explores Arabic and Persian narrative texts, such as collective biographies, from different regions of the western Indian Ocean to show how learned groups increasingly traversed the western Indian Ocean for scholarly pursuits during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the centres of learning and text transmission that emerged and shifted over time, as well as the incentives such as patronage, career progression, and scholarly sociability that generated these mobilities. Contemporaries reflected on the transoceanic cultural connections that brought communities of the different regions together. From the sixteenth to the seventeenth centuries those transoceanic entanglements continued to shape this world, but changing political landscapes had an impact on the conditions of a transoceanic field of Arabic learning.

For over 400 years, Sassanid Persia was the greatest state in Asia. To the east, the Kushan Empire was already in decline. The only strong opponent of Iran was the Roman Empire in the west. Military competition for influence in northern Mesopotamia, Armenia and the Caucasus region dominated Iranian–Roman relations, orienting the strategic activities of the early Sassanids to the western fringes of the empire. The breakthrough came in the mid-fourth century, with the emergence of the Kidara Huns in the east. Iran faced a ‘strategic dilemma’: it was crucial to avoid wars on multiple fronts. The Hephthalites or White Huns, became the most important enemy of the Sassanians until the end of the following century; the adoption of such a strategic paradigm enforced the maintenance of peace with the Roman Empire in the west. However, the Sassanian ruler, having secured the eastern territories, was able to move against Iran’s age-old enemy, Rome, this way beginning a period of wars in the west that, with few interruptions, lasted almost until the collapse of the Persian state. Defending such an enormous area was a challenge, as was preventing it from centrifugal tendencies, typical for multi-ethnic states. Despite these factors, the Iranian state managed to assure the territorial integrity of its core areas for four centuries. The tool to achieve this was the army – mobile, efficient, disciplined and motivated.

From the sixth to fourth centuries BCE, the Persian empire under the Teispid and Achaemenid dynasties ruled most of western Asia and neighbouring regions, from the Indus river to Egypt and the coasts of the Aegean Sea. Despite the sources’ disproportionate emphasis on the failures of military expeditions against the overseas Greeks, the Persians enjoyed a lengthy period of military success and overall stability due in part to their rulers’ skill in the formulation of strategy. In the initial conquests, Persia absorbed peer competitors such as Babylon and Egypt; most subsequent conflicts pitted the empire’s superior forces against localised rebellions. Persia’s control stretched to vital subject communities in frontier zones and they also projected influence over external allies and clients. Persian kings rarely campaigned in person after the early expansionist phase, but relied on an exemplary communication system to manage satraps and other delegates tasked with provincial and frontier operations. To carry out military objectives, they relied on networks of provincial recruitment, supported as necessary by elements of a standing army associated with the royal court. Persian military activities were augmented by diplomatic outreach, most notably in Persia’s Greek relations after the failed invasion of mainland Greece. Persia’s strategic capabilities remained formidable until they were caught off guard by the tactical superiority of Alexander’s Macedonian invaders.

Secondary sanctions are unique in their audacity. Their application in an interdependent global context raises the specter of an uncontrolled burn, with consequences stretching beyond even their broadest scope. Such consequences reshape markets and, at times, create new ones. This chapter uses Iran as a lens through which to examine the relationship between the informal economy and US secondary sanctions and the potential disruption provided by the proliferation of cryptocurrencies. The chapter ultimately concludes that despite much-heralded potential, cryptocurrency’s disruption to the US financial system’s supremacy, as well as the sanctions regimes reliant on such supremacy, remains, for now, limited. This incomplete disruption means that any blunting effect provided by cryptocurrency on secondary sanctions cannot fully protect the informal economies and the participants therein from the effects of such sanctions, particularly in more protracted sanctions regimes. Indeed, cryptocurrency’s likeliest role in US sanctions is not to upend the secondary sanctions regime but rather to complicate the enforcement process. Given its rapid proliferation and built-in cryptography, cryptocurrency is likely to continue to make enforcement of sanctions more difficult, more expensive, and, perhaps, less appealing to pursue all potential evaders.

The effects of sanctions have been extensively studied in both the political science and economic literature, but with little appreciation of their consequences for third countries and the firms in these countries. This is an important oversight, given that secondary sanctions have the stated objective of holding third countries not party to the original sanctions regime to account for their actions. This chapter surveys the economic theory behind the possible effects of sanctions on firms in third countries and then extends this to the specific case of secondary sanctions. Looking at the US sanctions regimes on Cuba and Iran, and using the scarce empirical evidence available, this chapter concludes that secondary sanctions are likely to amplify the effect of sanctions. However, their effects will depend on the particular firm, the overall trading relationship between the third party and the sanctioned party, and the relationship between the firm and the sanctioning country.

This chapter situates the communist victory in the Second Indochina War in the broader context of Third World revolution during the 1970s. It argues that 1975 represented a high-water mark of secular revolutionary activity in the global Cold War, and that the following years witnessed the retreat of left-wing revolutionary politics in the Global South. The period that followed saw the rise of a new model of political organization among Third World revolutionaries that largely abandoned secular progressive ideologies in favor of appeals to ethnic and sectarian identities as the basis of armed revolution. If Vietnamese communist fighters represented the archetype of Third World Revolutionaries in the long 1960s, the Afghan Mujahideen would come to symbolize the revolutionaries of the 1980s.

Chapter 9 looks comparatively within monarchies to assess whether the theory contributes to understanding why some monarchies survived and others were overthrown in the past two centuries. It begins by analyzing two datasets of ruling monarchies from the 1800s to the 1900s, showing that monarchies that shared more power with parliaments were less likely to fall to revolutions. It then uses case studies of the Iranian and Nepali monarchies to illustrate how centralizing monarchs made themselves vulnerable to blame and attracted mass opposition, ultimately leading to their downfalls. The chapter suggests that the theory has implications for understanding historical transitions from monarchy, and it underscores that kings who forego their delegation advantage and monopolize power are also vulnerable to being blamed and facing mass opposition when they govern poorly.

Investigation of the Bee-nymphs of Mt. Parnassus and the ancestral Indo-European strain and Anatolian strains of divination introduced into European Hellas by migrant pre-Aeolian communities.

This chapter analyzes the history of preventive attacks against nuclear programs. It identifies when nuclear latency invites military conflict. It includes four detailed case studies: US-considered use of military force against Iran, the North Korea Nuclear Crisis, Israel’s preventive strike against Syria, and the US-considered use of force against Syria.

This chapter presents case studies from ten countries: Argentina, Brazil, Egypt, India, Iran, Japan, Pakistan, South Africa, South Korea, and Spain. These cases show that many world leaders believe that nuclear latency provides greater international influence.

As the recovery of the rich history of the expansive Byzantine Commonwealth pushes forward, we must renew our emphasis on the sturdy multi- and cross-cultural foundation upon which it was constructed. Christian Caucasia was a charter member of the Byzantine Commonwealth, but its social fabric and cultural orientation remained locked on the Iranian world for centuries to come. The fundamentally Iranic, or Persianate, nature of Christian Caucasian society is a reminder of the intense cross-cultural connections of Rome-Byzantium and Iran across late antiquity and into the medieval period.

The chapter explores Iran’s policy in West Africa through two very different relationships; those with Senegal and Nigeria. Senegal was identified early in the 1970s as a country that Iran would pursue a special relationship with. This political partnership was facilitated by the strong personal bonds developed between the two sets of leaders, which were shaped by their francophone backgrounds. The president of Senegal, Léopold Sédar Senghor, in particular, shared a close bond with Empress Farah Pahlavi, and spoke eloquently about the inherent similarities between his philosophy of Négritude and Iran’s Iranité. On the other hand, Iran’s relationship with Nigeria was very pragmatic. Iran’s ambassador there, Shāhrokh Firuz, found himself frustrated by the rigidity of Iran’s policy, and the lack of freedom he had to explore new opportunities for Iran, not only in Nigeria, but also other countries in the region. These two relationships provide fascinating insights into Iran’s strategy in arguably the only part of Africa in which it had no immediately obvious security or strategic interests. The chapter explores what drove these relationships, and what each side gained from them.

In his search for allies who would help him challenge Nasserism and other radical movements, the shah found a companion in the emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I. This chapter investigates the early years of this relationship and some of the issues that prompted the two sides to cooperate – including common security concerns in the Red Sea, threats to the global monarchical institution, and the challenges that decolonisation presented to conservative regimes in the Global South. Ethiopia provided Iran with its first ally in sub-Saharan Africa, but it was not until the Summit Conference of Independent African States in Addis Ababa in 1963 that Iran began seriously to consider its future role in Africa. Several emissaries from Africa had already visited Iran, for example from Nigeria and Cameroon, and in 1964, a report was published by the Imperial Court on the opportunities Africa could present to Iran. Subsequently, the decision was taken to deepen ties with the continent as a matter of urgency. Because Addis Ababa was the de facto diplomatic capital of Africa, it was perceived as a bridge to the rest of Africa.

During his visit to Ethiopia in 1968, the shah spoke to representatives of the Organisation of African Unity about his commitment to combatting colonialism and racial discrimination. It is surprising, therefore, that not long after the shah had returned to Iran, his diplomats began to discuss with South African diplomats the establishment of political relations between the two countries. The chapter explores the origins of this engagement and examines what drove the two sides together in this period. At the United Nations and other international forums, the shah and his diplomats spoke out in harsh terms against discrimination, racism and human rights violations in Southern Africa. But in spite of this public condemnation, the shah developed and maintained strong security and economic ties with apartheid South Africa. The chapter questions to what extent the shah was able to maintain his position as a champion of independence and human dignity, while enjoying such friendly ties with the apartheid regime.

Chapter 3 considers the development of the infamous martyrdom operations, or "suicide bombings," in the late twentieth century. Beginning by considering postcolonial experiences of Shi’i Muslims in 1980s West Asia, I argue for approaching two contexts of conflict—Lebanon and Iran—in tandem, due to their joint recognition of the Guardianship of the Jurisprudent Ayatollah Khomeini. Evaluating the ideological contributions of Shi’a history and Persian art forms, I trace the way the concepts of jihad—struggle in the way of God—and shahid—martyrdom—increasingly take martial shapes during the period, leading to the figure of the istishhadi who gives their life in an attack on the enemy. Both the explosive tactics of Hezbollah and the human wave attacks of Iran’s Basij forces are linked by the conception that willing self-sacrifice paves the way to realizing a divine kingdom on earth and filtered through the lens of Husayn’s battle at Karbala. Finally, I show the connection between the words of these martyrs and contemporary Shi’i authorities to the idea of commanding right and forbidding wrong, and the need to live life according to divine law regardless of the consequences.