BAHÁ'Í STUDIES REVIEW, Volume 8, 1998 || CONTENTS BY VOLUME || CONTENTS BY TITLE || CONTENTS BY AUTHOR || REVIEWS BY TITLE || BOOK REVIEWS |
![]() ![]() Authors: U. Schaefer, N. Towfigh, and U. Gollmer Publisher: Georg Olms, Hildesheim, Zürich & New York, 1995, 685 pages Reviewer: Christian Cannuyer (Translated from the original French by Greg Massiah(1) When, in 1987, I put my name to a work in the "Sons of Abraham" collection, an overview of "The Bahá'ís, People of the Triple Unity," I expressed in the bibliography(2) certain reservations about a work which had appeared six years earlier, and which I found excessively polemical, namely Francesco Ficicchia's Der Baha'ismus - Religion der Zukunft? Geschichte, Lehre und Organisation in kritischer Anfrage (Baha'ism - religion of the future? A critical inquiry into its history, teachings and organisation), published by the Evangelische Zentralstelle für Weltanschauungsfragen (Protestant centre for philosophical questions, Stuttgart). In answer to this work, which has at times been put forward as the "standard work" on the subject in the German language, three Bahá'ís have undertaken to produce a rebuttal. This work has necessitated research of an impressive breadth and quality. The authors are all academics, among the finest representatives of current Bahá'í scholarship, which possesses remarkable dynamism, both in the Germanic and in the Anglo-Saxon world: the musicologist and jurist Udo Schaefer, the orientalist and Islamicist Nicola Towfigh, and the sociologist Ulrich Gollmer. In principle, the Bahá'í Faith enjoins its followers to avoid polemic and aggressive apologetics. Yet, taking Ficicchia's book to be an exercise in systematic disinformation, the authors have chosen to put aside this reticence. U. Schaefer reminds us of the Latin legal saying which warns that Qui tacet, consentire videtur. This extensive rebuttal is divided into three major parts. The first attacks Ficicchia's method, not without recourse to an ad hominem argument which is not to be taken lightly: in the seventies, Ficicchia was a member of the Bahá'í community of Switzerland and even worked for a time at the world centre of the faith in Haifa. From 1974, however, he entered into open conflict with the Bahá'í community and its supreme authorities. The clear acrimony which shows through on every page of his argument - and whose bitterness I had identified from the outset as excessive - can probably be explained in large part by his inability to conceal his resentment. There is a more serious charge: the authors claim that Ficicchia lacks the necessary knowledge of the oriental languages (chiefly Arabic and Persian) in which the principal sources of the history and doctrine of the early Bahá'í Faith were written. Moreover, they point out indisputable faults in his use of secondary literature in German and English. Supported by numerous precise and verifiable examples (a few soundings of my own sufficed to assess their relevance), their attacks are remarkably effective. Though they are relentless, intellectual integrity compels me to acknowledge that their target is deserving. One senses too the apologists' concern with denying Ficicchia the right to treat the Bahá'í Faith as a marginal and questionable sect. The Bahá'í Faith today is a universal religion in its own right, with some five million followers, whose status is recognised by the United Nations, who have invited its participation in several of its commissions as a Non-Governmental Organisation. For the Bahá'ís this recognition is vital: on the pretext that their faith is merely a dissident sectarian movement within Islam, they are persecuted by the Islamic Republic of Iran as well as by the governments of a number of other Muslim countries. In Iran, the faith's country of origin, the Bahá'ís, numbering around 300,000, are considered mahdur ad-damm, "people whose blood may be shed with impunity," and not as "People of the Book" deserving respect and tolerance. Hundreds of their number have been executed or murdered since the fall of the Shah, while hundreds more languish in jail in Tehran and elsewhere. The second part aims to point out and to rectify those erroneous representations of Bahá'í theology,(3) law, and ethics of which Ficicchia is guilty. Two points of particular importance are the legitimacy of the present Universal House of Justice, the supreme organ of the Faith since 1963, and the authenticity of the Kitáb-i-Aqdas ("Most Holy Book"), one of the pillars of the new revelation whose status as "Holy Writings" entails, from the Bahá'í viewpoint, specific differences which prevent it from being considered the equivalent of a Bible or a Qur'an; under these circumstances, the text is inseparable from the entire teachings of Bahá'u'lláh and of his heirs, 'Abdu'l-Bahá and Shoghi Effendi. We are nevertheless pleased to note that the Kitáb-i-Aqdas has finally been published in its entirety, an official English translation in 1992 and a French one in 1996. One of Ficicchia's misinterpretations of Bahá'í practice which the authors latch on to is his assertion that Bahá'ís are required to recite a ritual prayer (salát) three times a day, a custom inspired by the Muslim's fivefold daily prayer. True, the Kitab-i-Aqdas (K6) ordains three individual ritual prayers a day. However, Bahá'u'lláh, the founder of the faith, subsequently modified this prescription leaving Bahá'ís a choice of three versions of the ritual prayer: the shortest and the longest should only be recited once a day, and only the "medium" prayer requires three recitations (morning, noon and evening). The final part of the rebuttal concerns "darker" passages of Bahá'í history, notably the schisms which have shaken the community since its inception. It is regarding these issues that my own work generated a "response" - a most courteous one - in 1990, from an eminent member of the Belgian Bahá'í community, my friend Louis Hénuzet.(4) Though I cannot here go into the finer detail of these complicated incidents and their manifold reverberations, I remain convinced that Bahá'ís have a tendency to play down the seriousness of the dissensions which have split their community since its foundation. In these matters - quite understandably - their faith leads them to remove any blame from their three successive supreme guides, the prophet and manifestation of God Bahá'u'lláh (1817-92), his son 'Abdu'l-Bahá (1844-1921) and the latter's grandson, the Guardian Shoghi Effendi (1896-1957), who, during his "reign" succeeded in falling out with almost his entire family. I must admit that I cannot help observing that these individuals - otherwise engaging characters and essentially unselfish - led the community with an ever-increasing authoritarianism, which accounts for many of the tensions which arose at its heart. Ficicchia may well have blackened Bahá'u'lláh out of all proportion in favour of his brother; he may also be wrong - following the American Bahá'í Ruth White - in his outright denial of the authenticity of 'Abdu'l-Bahá's Will and Testament which appoints Shoghi Effendi as Guardian of the Cause and lays the foundations for the future Bahá'í institutions: this takes nothing away from the fact that the authors' (and Monsieur Hénuzet's) counter-argument appears to paint an idealised portrait of the founders of Baha'ism which does not stand up to scrutiny.(5) Yet here we are touching upon the sensitive boundaries between faith and historical analysis: it is hard for a believer to turn his/her critical gaze upon the person of the prophet, the instrument of revelation, and, in the Bahá'ís' view, the manifestation for our age of the one Divine Light. Bahá'ís may perhaps come to realise that, like any revelation, the message of their faith, which is so pure, so modern, and so inspiring - the oneness of God, the oneness of revelation, and the oneness of mankind - has been transmitted through human beings and cannot bypass their weaknesses. For my own part, I tried to show in my work that these - usually quite excusable - failings do not blemish the greatness and the profound spirituality of the new Abrahamic religion heralded by Bahá'u'lláh. Overall, this book impressed me by the rigour of its argument and the relevance of its findings. As it reviews the majority of those aspects of the Bahá'í faith attacked by Ficicchia, it also constitutes a masterly survey of the doctrinal and vital principles of this religion. By consulting this book, especially with the aid of its copious "Sachindex" (index by subject) (667-685), one may obtain a mine of information on Bahá'í theology, practice, and ethics, and the Bahá'í vision of the socio-political organisation of the human family. Ficicchia's book was an attempt to reduce the Bahá'í community to a "sect" with doubtful motives, engaged in unwholesome activities. This is a serious accusation in this age, when the phenomenon of sects is a cause of genuine disquiet. For my part, I would not change one word of what I wrote in 1987: "Emerging from Shi'ih Islam, considered by the ayatollahs in present-day Iran as a harmful heresy, relegated by others to the rank of a sect, Baha'ism today is in reality a religion of universal import which has left the orbit of Islam. It is a separate 'Abrahamic monotheism' in its own right: for its original teachings it merits attention. For its message of love, its tolerance and humanitarian activity, it inspires sympathy. For its many martyrs, in Iran and elsewhere, it is due respect." It is this respect which is claimed by Schaefer, Towfigh, and Gollmer's book. The claim is honourable and the pleading hits the mark.
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![]() ![]() Author: Abbas Amanat. Publisher: University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1997, 536 pages Reviewer: Sholeh A. Quinn Abbas Amanat's Pivot of the Universe is a biography of the first phase (1848-1871) of Nasir al-Din Shah's reign. Despite the recent tremendous interest in Qajar studies and the publication of numerous specialised monographs and even more scholarly articles over the past decade or so, the field is still in great need of full-length biographies on the Qajar kings. Amanat's study goes a long way in addressing this deficiency. Drawing on a wide range of published and unpublished primary sources, including newspapers, British foreign office records, Persian chronicles and, Qajar documents, Amanat places the reign of Nasir al-Din Shah within the context of the centuries-old tradition of Persian monarchy. Although there exists a significant corpus of literature addressing the institution of Persian kingship, most of that has focused on the pre-modern period of Iranian history. The Qajar period, though, raises some of the most interesting questions about kingship. What happened to this institution with the onset of western influence in Iran? How were its traditional elements modified as a result of modern international and domestic challenges? These are the questions that Amanat sets out to answer in his study. Writing biography requires a historian to use the full range of available methodological approaches, and in his attempt to understand Nasir al-Din Shah, Amanat writes political, intellectual, social, and psychological history. The introductory chapters of the book cover Nasir al-Din's childhood upbringing and his youth. Here, Amanat focuses on his early relationships with various members of his family, in particular the problematic relationship with his father, and his ties with other individuals attached to the royal household, such as servants. He also describes the circumstances under which Nasir al-Din became heir-apparent, and explores what might have been some likely early intellectual influences on Nasir al-Din's life, such as various works of the "mirrors for princes" or "advice for the prince" genre, and geographical treatises. In each of the chapters focusing on Nasir al-Din's life as king, the primary themes include (1) the relationship between the king and each of his prime ministers, Amir Nizam and Mirza Aqa Khan Nuri, (2) the two foreign powers who have a strong presence and influence in Iran, the British and the Russians, and (3) the influence of the royal household, in particular the king's mother, Mahd Ulya, and, later, his favourite wife, Jayran. The main question posed throughout is how did the kingship survive through old tensions, as exemplified by the problems between king and minister, and the new challenges posed by the European presence in Iran? Nasir al-Din Shah had problematic relationships with both of his prime ministers. The first, his "atabak" Amir Kabir, was executed on the king's order in 1852, and the second, Mirza Aqa Khan Nuri, was exiled in 1858. In addition to providing a great deal of information on both of these individuals, which results in some new assessments about their premierships, Amanat explains their often difficult relationships with the king in the context of Nasir al-Din Shah's attempts to rule independently and absolutely as he matured, and also in connection with the British and Russian representatives in Iran in the Nasirean period. This book certainly drives home the point that both the British and the Russians had a very strong presence in Iran throughout the period in question, and Amanat carefully describes the extent and nature of this European presence. Nasir al-Din Shah navigated these troubled waters by attempting to set one power against the other; he also made overtures to France, partly because of his life-long fascination with Napoleon I, and when there was war in the Persian Gulf with the British, he tried to promote a "royal cult of 'Ali" in an attempt to boost his own legitimacy. Amanat does not neglect to explain yet another important locus of power during Nasir al-Din Shah's reign: the harem. Mahd Ulya not only had influence on her son, but she also was involved in various sorts of alliances, usually against each of the prime ministers, in a contest of power. In his fascinating account of these intricate and shifting allegiances, it would have been interesting for Amanat to have drawn comparisons with Ottoman royal women - the sultan's mother, favourite wives, and concubines - in light of Leslie P. Peirce's study, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Ottoman Empire.(6) Whether describing the shah's relationship with his prime ministers, European representatives, or members of the royal household, Amanat does so in terms of four dimensions in Nasir al-Din Shah's kingship: pre-Islamic, Islamic-Shi'i, nomadic, and modern/western. I would have been interested in knowing more about how the nomadic or Turko-Mongol element played itself out in Nasir al-Din's kingship. The fact that Nasir al-Din might have been modelling some aspects of his reign on Nadir Shah, who belonged to the Afshars, one of the Qizilbash tribes originally associated with the Safavids (along with the Qajars and others), suggests that the model of king as "world conqueror" in terms of Turko-Mongol legitimising principles had survived into the period of Nasir al-Din Shah. It is interesting to note while Nadir Shah might have been a model for Nasir al-Din Shah, Nadir Shah in turn modelled his kingship on a still earlier ruler of Iran, Timur (Tamerlane). Although readers interested in Bábí studies should read Amanat's earlier ground-breaking study, Resurrection and Renewal, which is entirely devoted to the study of the rise of the Bábí movement, Pivot of the Universe also contains information on the Bábís and describes various Bábí events in connection with Nasir al-Din's life. In Pivot of the Universe, Amanat discusses the major episodes that involved Nasir al-Din and the Bábís both before and after he became king. These include his presence at the Báb's public trial in Tabriz in 1848, the 1852 assassination attempt on the king's life by a group of Bábís and the psychological impact this event had on the king, and the subsequent backlash against the Bábí community. In this regard, Amanat outlines the prime minister's involvement in the backlash, describing Aqa Khan Nuri's "collective frenzy of killings" as "spectacular even by Qajar standards" (212) and explaining how the entire Qajar ruling elite became involved in attempting to eradicate the Bábís. According to Amanat, this persecution made the Báb's teachings even more popular. As for Amir Kabir and his role in the political defeat of the Bábís, Amanat states that "an indigenous movement of change ceased to exist for decades to come." By suppressing the Bábís, "Amir Kabir inadvertently cleared the way for the consolidation of the high 'ulama for the rest of the century and beyond" (168). Pivot of the Universe is essential reading for everyone interested in Bábí and Bahá'í studies, Iranian history, and kingship studies. The transliteration scheme employed throughout this monograph, which eliminates dots, underlines, and macrons, is highly refreshing. Indeed, this style thankfully appears to have become a standard alternative when choosing transliteration systems. Although this study would have benefited from a glossary and timeline for those not familiar with the topic, the map, genealogies, and illustrations are extremely useful additions to this highly readable book, and Amanat is to be commended for taking the reader so carefully and clearly through the complex events he describes. One hopes that this volume will inaugurate an entire series of much-needed biographies on each of the Qajar kings. |
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