The second of these problem is easier to see. Academic journals publish fewer articles about the Bahá'í Faith than about any religion of a comparable size. Mormonism, for example, had about seventeen times more papers published about it between 1985-1993.⁽¹⁾ On the other hand, the number of journals exclusively devoted to Bahá'í studies has multiplied. Papers in such journals might have offset the neglect from outside the Faith, but most are never cited or referred to--even by Bahá'ís. Some articles are forgotten simply because only a small circle of scholars share specialist Bahá'í interests. But pieces in Bahá'í journals often fall short anyway: original articles tend to be a few islands of analysis within a sea of quotation; subject reviews of secondary literature--which in other fields are vital to guiding future enquiry--are a newly discovered form in Bahá'í studies (see the Review Article in this issue); uncritical book reviews leave a saccharine aftertaste. Surely the Bahá'í community can do better.

Several moves might steer scholarship in a better direction. First, the culture of the community must change. By necessity, it has been a culture that has stressed issues of survival, expansion, and diffusion. This has inadvertently sidelined some elements central to community development, such as the arts and scholarship. Yet, in 1981 the Universal House of Justice urged Bahá'í institutions to encourage "budding scholars" and promote "within the Bahá'í community an atmosphere of tolerance for the views of others."⁽²⁾ But rarely is this the theme for a conference, the slogan for a new campaign, the motivating force behind a new initiative. Unsurprisingly, centres designated to lead Bahá'í studies appear to fall short. In 1992-93, the major publications of the Bahá'í chair for world peace in Maryland were a set of translations--including an Italian rendition of Kahlil Gibran--and an introductory note to a book (which is reviewed in this issue). The Bahá'í studies chair in Indore, India, has yet to produce a publication. Future work promises more.

Second, improving scholarship requires phasing in more rigorous peer review in a shift away from purely institutional appraisals, whose first concern is to avoid the Faith's misrepresentation. This should make for slimmer but better Bahá'í publications. Inviting occasional comment from distinguished scholars outside the Faith might also boost standards (see Invited Commentary).

Third, it is plainly obvious that Bahá'í studies needs more specialists to push back the limits of its various disciplines. It is strange that a journal like this one--which deals mostly with theology, religious studies, and politics--should be edited by two medical doctors. More Bahá'ís should develop specialist scholarly interests. But they should also work and write together, borrowing from the humanities the best features of collaborative work which characterises modern science, while avoiding the blandness of the lowest-common-denominator of opinion which committees sometimes inspire.

Fourth, increased specialisation must be matched by increased accessibility. Scholars can only hope to lure larger audiences and retain the interest of their colleagues by expressing their ideas in clear, economical prose. The significance of more esoteric subjects should then speak for itself. Dense academic jargon can be just as forbidding as the traditional language of firesides--a tradition which one writer has called "folk Bahaism."⁽³⁾ Finally, the Bahá'í community must accept scholarship's critical spirit. Disagreements about contemporary issues, such as Bahá'í attitudes toward art are inevitable (see Letters). Questions about the place of the individual in society or the possibly unequal treatment of women according to the Aqdas's inheritance laws should also inspire lively debate (see Soundings). Truth, after all, depends on a collision of opinions.

THE EDITORS