Modernity and the Millennium: the Genesis of the Bahá'í Faith in the Nineteenth-Century Middle East
Author: Juan R.I. Cole
Publisher: New York, Columbia University Press, 1998, also distributed by Kalimat Press as Volume Nine of the series Studies in the Bábí and Bahá'í Religions)
xi + 264 pages, notes and index. ISBN 0-231-11080-4 and 0-231-11081-1 (pbk).
Review by: Sen McGlinn.
This book is primarily
about "the responses of Bahá'u'lláh and his early followers
to modernity" (p. 14) and the contacts and interactions
between the Bahá'í's and figures who are better known
in Middle Eastern political history. `Abduh, Afghani,
the Young Ottomans and Young Turks, Qájár diplomats
and court officials and ministers of the Sultan pass
review. Cole then uses the bright fragments of microhistory
to give a picture from the social periphery of the
period in which modernity was have a forceful impact
on the Middle East. The thread which ties the history
together, and relates it to the project of modernism,
is the potential and dangers of reason as an organizing
social principle.
This book will be
of interest to two distinct audiences. For those interested
in the history of ideas in the modern Middle East,
and particularly in Iran, the books offers much useful
information and an illuminating perspective on the
reception of modernity. "... if one moves away from
a concentration upon governmental and intellectual
elites and looks at the margins of Middle Eastern society
the region appears as a cauldron of dynamic change,
and the values of democracy and civil society have
meant a great deal more to more ordinary people and
intellectuals than is usually recognized." (p. 190)
For the history of ideas in general, Bahá'u'lláh's
critique of what Cole calls the Janus-face of modernity
(p. 191) is still salient. The state remains as much
of a threat as a bastion of freedom, ethic nationalisms
are still virulent, and the inhumane liberalism of
the right (what Cole calls 'procedural liberalism')
is today a scarcely questioned orthodoxy. The book
passes back and forth from the history of ideas then
and there to contemporary issues in modernity and post-modernity.
In the field of Bahá'í
studies, the book will undoubtedly be a starting-point
for a thorough-going revision of much which we have
thought we knew about Bahá'u'lláh and his political
thought. Cole shows that the proposals for social and
political reform made by Bahá'u'lláh and `Abdu'l-Bahá
have parallels and antecedents in the Middle East,
but also that Bahá'í teachings have had direct and
traceable effects in the history of ideas in the region,
in fields ranging from constitutionalism and democratization
to the education of women and pan-Islamism. Cole also
provides many translations of previously untranslated
passages from Bahá'u'lláh's works. Chapter 2 deals
with the relationship between Bahá'u'lláh and the Young
Ottomans, chapter 3 with the role of the Bahá'í leaders
in spreading reform ideas in Iran, chapters 4 and 5
with two aspects of Bahá'u'lláh's critique of modernism,
and chapter 6 with Bahá'u'lláh and `Abdu'l-Bahá's writings
regarding gender, and with the role of women in the
formation of the community.
As the first full-length
work of academic history dealing with the life of Bahá'u'lláh,
it is likely to be the seminal work in the field for
some time to come. That is all the more reason to say
at some length what the book is not.
In the first place
it is not a thorough analytic history of the period
or of the life of Bahá'u'lláh, of the sort which Amanat
has provided for the Bábí period in
Resurrection
and Renewal. Cole's work is much shorter and covers
a broader historical scope, including both Ottoman
and Qájár reforms and touching on other areas. He works
thematically rather than chronologically. His outline
of the life of Bahá'u'lláh and some other leading figures
of the time has some gaps which the reader must fill
in from background knowledge (good references are provided).
And he is as much concerned with presenting an interpretation
of modernity and postmodernity as with telling Bahá'u'lláh's
story. As history then, it does not have the comprehensiveness
or thoroughness of Amanat's book, the only other book
in the field with which it could fairly be compared.
Second, although
the aim is to explore the relationship between Bahá'u'lláh's
social teachings and his religious ones (p. 51), the
book is written from the viewpoint of a historian rather
than a theologian. He does make some specific and perceptive
connections, such as that between Bahá'u'lláh's feminization
of the Godhead and the contingency of gender (Chapter
6) or the Iranian 'covenant of Ardashir' tradition
and Bahá'u'lláh's plea for equal citizenship for all
subjects (pp. 33-34). Much more could be done: Bahá'u'lláh's
teachings concerning the nature of the human person
are surely relevant to his advocacy of popular democracy,
and a case could be made to connect Bahá'u'lláh's cosmogony
to his acceptance of continual change. The scientific
historical approach needs to be correlated with an
equally systematic spiritual biography and study of
Bahá'u'lláh's religious ideas. And both approaches
require more detailed textual studies to establish
best texts, date them accurately and improve on existing
translations. This is an important book, but it draws
our attention to the amount of unfinished business
in the field.
I will attempt to
review the separate chapters, but it must be said that
this is a dense work, both with argumentation and historical
information. Such a review can give only a weak idea
of how much can be learnt from the book.
The introduction
and Chapter 1 deal in broad theoretical terms with
the nature of modernity, and particularly religious
liberty and the separation of church and state in modernity.
Some interpretations of the history of modernity in
these chapters seem to be biased by the author's American
background, in a way which is close to staking an American
colonial claim on modernity itself. Terms such as the
'separation' of church and state, or 'divine right'
are used in the sense which they have acquired in the
imagined history of the American nation. Something
important is then lost in relation to both Bahá'u'lláh's
views and the meaning of modernity outside of America.
American constitutional disestablishment, for instance,
is linked to the removal of "the tyranny of religion
over minds" (p. 2). A Dutch or English reader might
consider that the secularization of science, culture
and the economic order in those countries, and the
development of pluralistic societies, have proceeded
without the benefit of either revolution or disestablishment.
Cole equates establishment of religion with "the enforcement
of a monopolistic state religion." (p. 37), something
which may have been true of Spain after the expulsion
of the Jews or of post-revolutionary Iran, but not
of many other states with an established religion.
Religious establishment, the suppression of religious
pluralism and theocratic theories of government should
be dealt with as three distinct matters. The distinction
becomes important in Bahá'í studies of a latter period
because Bahá'u'lláh's great-grandson and head of the
Bahá'í Faith, Shoghi Effendi, advocated both the separation
of church and state and the establishment of the Bahá'í
Faith and formation of a Bahá'í state, positions which
would seem mutually contradictory in Cole's framework.[1]
When Cole says that
"The American and French revolutions, templates for
the great political upheavals of modern times, both
involved a repudiation of the idea of a state-imposed
religion" (p. 3) he is drawing on the mythology of
America rather than the history of modernity. In the
case of the American revolution, as in the puritan
exodus of the 1630s, it was anti-prelatical and anti-catholic
sentiment, rather than the rejection of establishment,
which was important. Many Puritans and patriots, in
the two periods, hoped to see a new Protestant establishment
which would be free of the episcopal and thus crypto-catholic
taint of Anglicanism. The American revolution left
established churches in New England and quasi-establishments
in most other regions: rapid disestablishment occurred
only in those states where the previous established
church had been Anglican. Leading clergy from the patriot
side were then involved in the formation of the Episcopal
Church and aimed at the establishment of a national
ecumenical protestant church, which was actually attempted
in the South Carolina constitution of 1778. Virginia,
which Cole cites as an example of rapid disestablishment
linked to the revolution (p. 17) is by no means typical.
New Hampshire disestablished its church only in 1819,
Massachusetts not until 1833. Likewise the French revolution
led to a closer relation between church and state,
in the Civil Constitution of the Clergy of 1790 and
state payments of clerical salaries from 1801. The
1848 revolution in France only confirmed this position,
so Cole's comment is perhaps a Republic or two too
early. In the same period, Pius IX was seriously put
forward as the president of the proposed federation
of Italian States. Clearly the relationships between
disestablishment, revolution and the modernization
of the state are more complex than Cole has supposed.
These are not the
only instances in which history is conflated in these
chapters to provide idealized models of modernity for
rhetorical purposes. The beginning of toleration for
Roman Catholics and dissenters in England is said to
date from "the aftermath of the 1688 Glorious Revolution
(with the decree of 1689)" (p. 19), as if
cuius
regio, eius religio had actually been applied until
that date. But in 1685 the Anglican Privy Council and
the overwhelmingly Protestant ruling classes and parliament
had welcomed the accession of James, a Roman Catholic,
who in turn advocated liberty of conscience for both
Catholics and non-conformists. James then proposed
to formalize the
de facto toleration by abolishing
those laws which in theory prevented Catholics from
worshipping, and to abolish the Test Acts which prevented
catholics or non-conformists holding public office.
He refused to approve a parliamentary move to enforce
laws against dissenters. Such toleration proved too
much, too soon, for his subjects. William on the other
hand had promised to prevent the repeal of the Test
Acts, and the invitation to depose James which was
extended to William, and his eventual triumph, were
both due in large part to popular anti-papal bigotry
and were accompanied by anti-catholic rioting. The
"decree of 1689" to which Cole refers is presumably
either the Declaration of Rights or the Act of Indulgence
of that year, neither of which abolished the restrictions
on Catholics or non-conformists. It is clear that the
revolution was an important political event, but was
it a step forward or a set-back in the quite non-revolutionary
English progress towards toleration and religious pluralism?
In a later period,
Leo XIII is presented as a representative of "older
conceptions of societal order rooted in the medieval
period", as an "archconservative pope" who "strove
all his life to prevent Roman Catholic political collaboration
with liberals, to see that the whole range of modern
ideas was condemned" (p. 17). This sounds as if it
was intended to apply to Leo's predecessor, Pius IX
of the
syllabus errorum. Leo XIII after all
was the Pope of
Rerum Novarum and the theory
of solidarity, a Catholic social theory intended to
supplant socialism and which did encourage movements
of social catholicism. This is the Pope who opened
the Vatican archives to researchers of all schools
and led the church to engage with many of those modern
ideas which had simply been pronounced anathema by
Pius IX. He never used the personal infallibility which
had been attributed to the papacy. He also favoured
monarchy above democracy, believed in biblical inerrancy,
and condemned 'Americanism' in exaggerated terms. The
relative liberality of his early pontificate encouraged
the articulation of catholic modernism, which his successor
Pius X was to condemn so roundly. If he wished to disengage
liberal Roman Catholics from political liberalism,
he also sought to disengage conservative French Catholics
from the monarchist movement. For his time, and certainly
in comparison with his predecessor and successor, Leo
XIII hardly deserves the label archconservative.
Do such details matter?
In some respects they do not. The outright condemnation
of modern ideas which Cole attributes to the papacy
of Leo XIII had already been achieved under Pius IX,
and Pius X was to succeed in breaking the alliance
of liberals and Catholic modernist. If the first republic
was not aggressively secular, the third certainly was.
The United Kingdom did eventually abolish Catholic
disabilities, whether one thinks that the effects of
William's intervention were positive or negative. The
broad lines are not altered, but the reader should
be warned that the telling of micro-history may suffer
when it is part of a theory of history which spans
centuries and compares civilizations within the space
of a few pages.
Cole is on much firmer
ground when he is dealing with modern middle-eastern
history and the second part of his subject, the Bahá'í
Faith. He shows that Bahá'u'lláh "opposed the theocratic
currents in Islam and the general Shi`ite denial of
ideal legitimacy to civil governments not ruled by
the divinely appointed imam" (p. 32). Cole is not the
first to note Bahá'u'lláh's originality in the Islamic
context. The historian Mangol Bayat said that Bahá'u'lláh:
... embraced what
no Muslim sect, no Muslim school of thought ever succeeded
in or dared to try: the doctrinal acceptance of the
de facto secularization of politics which had occurred
in the Muslim world centuries earlier." (Mysticism
and Dissent, p. 130.)
However Cole's discussion
here and in his earlier 1992 article, 'Iranian Millenarianism
and Democratic thought in the 19th Century' (IJMES,
24 1-26) is the first detailed explanation of the subject.
This chapter also includes an extensive discussion
of `Abdu'l-Bahá's
A Traveller's Narrative (1888)
in relation to Western and particularly Lockean thought.
This is illuminating and, so far as I know, original
contribution to the literature.
If we are to understand
Bahá'u'lláh's position in these years, more could have
been made of Bahá'u'lláh's need to rein in the theocratic
assumptions of his own followers, which is only briefly
mentioned (p. 32). Bahá'u'lláh does not simply stand
in a prophetic role
vis-a-vis the wider society,
with his ideas concerning the legitimation of the state
and its reform. Rather Bahá'u'lláh stands between a
government with a justified fear of millennialist movements
because they delegitimize the state and a diverse Bábí-Bahá'í
community which included a strong element of theocratic
millennialism and rejection of the state and particularly
of Qájár rule. To avoid a repetition of the Bábí uprisings
and subsequent persecutions, he had to placate the
one while educating the other. This explains Bahá'u'lláh's
cautious approach to announcing his own 'call'. It
may also explain why he was able to speak more clearly
from 1866, when his own followers had definitely been
separated from the Azali movement which included many
of the more militant and theocratic of the Bábí's.
Chapter two compares
and contrasts Bahá'u'lláh's political thought with
that of the Young Ottomans. In a nutshell, "For the
Young Ottomans constitutionalism resolved the problem
of legitimating Muslim governance in the absence of
the Prophet. For Bahá'u'lláh parliamentary rule was
the sign and instrument of a new prophetic advent."
(p. 62) The chapter includes a nuanced reading of Bahá'u'lláh's
attitude to liberty, a long overdue response to Goldziher's
assertion that the Bahá'í writings are critical of
modern liberty.
In this chapter,
as in the previous one, Cole repeatedly says that there
is a substantial change in Bahá'u'lláh and `Abdu'l-Bahá's
political ideas (see e.g., p. 36, 46—7, 52, 60—61,
76) but for this reader, trained in theology rather
than history, he does not make this good. One wonders
whether this was a conclusion to which he was led by
the evidence, or a premise built into the historian's
approach. Any person's ideas may change, and looking
for this change often proves to be a productive strategy.
But as a glance around academia shows, other individuals
form their basic ideas early and thereafter do no more
than elaborate and systematize. Change cannot be assumed
a priori. Bahá'u'lláh certainly systematized
his political teachings towards the end of his life,
both by asking `Abdu'l-Bahá to write and by composing
systematic expositions himself. However the same can
be said of all of Bahá'u'lláh's thought, not just in
the political field: what had emerged
ad hoc
in letters to individuals or in response to events
was set down in the later period in systematic works
composed for publication. There is a rhetorical shift,
which Cole notes (p. 47), but this is explicable by
greater maturity, the change in audience, the expectation
of formal publication, and contact with the political
terminologies of reform in the Ottoman empire. It is
also true that his own and `Abdu'l-Bahá's attitude
to some specific Persian political reforms changed,
but as Cole shows this was because the constitutional
reform movement changed and could no longer fulfil
Bahá'u'lláh's hopes of constitutional popular government,
the elevation of the role of women, and the separation
of church and state. If we leave aside change which
merely reflects such external circumstances, what is
the basis of the claim that Bahá'u'lláh's own political
views changed substantially?
On page 76 Cole says:
Bahá'u'lláh gradually
moved away from the Hobbesian position, expressed in
the tablet to Nasiru'd-Din Shah of Spring 1868, that
kings were the shadows of God on earth and ruled by
divine right. Although this view fit[ted] with his
turn away from Babi theocratic ideals toward a rapprochement
with the state, in an unnuanced form it was incompatible
with his conviction that government should be consultative
and that it was necessary to oppose the state when
it acted arbitrarily. By the second half of 1868 or
the first half of 1869, he had ... moved to a profound
appreciation for British constitutional monarchy, parliamentary
rule and consultative government, urging sovereigns
to relinquish actual rule in favor of cabinet ministers
and the elected representatives of the people ... By
1873, in his Most Holy Book, he had gone even
further and begun speaking of popular sovereignty.
This summary of Bahá'u'lláh's
later thought is indubitably accurate. The time which
can be allowed for this supposed is change may be rather
less than Cole has given, since Ekbal has quite decisively
shown that much of the
Most Holy Book (the
Kitáb-i-Aqdas)
was composed soon after Bahá'u'lláh's arrival in `Akka
in September 1868[2] and the present writer has suggested
that some parts may have been composed in Edirne,[3]
that is, at the same period as the Tablet to the Sháh
and the letter to Queen Victoria with which Cole contrasts
it (p. 65).
The question is whether
Bahá'u'lláh's earlier thought was essentially different.
As for "Babi theocratic ideals", it remains an open
question whether what the Báb himself envisioned was
a theocratic form of government or merely a pious and
observant monarchy. It is in any case clear that there
was a wide diversity of views within the Bábí community.
Converts from the junior `ulamá tended to be the most
militant and the least ready to concede the legitimacy
of the civil state, while the bazárís were most ready
to accommodate the state. Amanat, who considers that
the Báb himself recognized a distinction between political
and spiritual authorities, concludes that "most Babis
shared the observance of this duality of religious
and political spheres".[4] There is at any rate nothing
to suggest that Bahá'u'lláh ever took a militant or
theocratic position. Cole himself says that Bahá'u'lláh
"probably never embraced a theocratic vision of Babism
with the same fervour that some other Babis did" (p.
46). Such an extreme development in his ideas can therefore
be provisionally set aside.
What then of the
divine right of kings? If by divine right we mean that
kings are elected by God and should exercise absolute
power, this position can not be found in the Tablet
to Nasiru'd-Din Sháh. Bahá'u'lláh does use the title
'Shadow of God',[5] but this is incidental to the argument.
His purpose is not to show that the Sháh is divinely
appointed, but to call that Sháh, in exercising the
power which he
de facto had, to do so with justice.
At another place he says that God "hath committed the
kingdom of creation, both land and sea, into the hand
of kings, and they are the manifestations of the Divine
Power according to the degrees of their rank"[6] but
as Cole himself notes the term 'kings' is in Bahá'u'lláh's
writing often a shorthand for worldly government in
general. It is not specifically the head of government
who symbolizes the sovereignty of God, but government
per se of whatever form or level: hence the
reference to degrees of rank. On one hand, the art
of government is given divine approval, but on the
other hand all levels of government are called on to
manifest the virtues which that station implies. Moreover
the Kermán manuscript of this passage[7] reads instead:
"if they happen [to be] in the shadow of God, they
are accounted of God; and if not, then verily thy Lord
is knowing and informed." This could hardly be taken
as advocacy of a 'divine right' position.
'Divine Right' also
entails a degree of political quietism where the government
is not seen to be governing justly, on the grounds
that we should not oppose what God permits, whereas
Bahá'u'lláh's attribute theology implies a reformist
and activist stance (but not militancy) since the progressive
and fullest possible realization of the attribute of
sovereignty or 'kingship' is a goal of creation. And
in Hobbes' thought, divine right is linked to acceptance
of the right of sovereigns to wage war against one
another, whereas Bahá'u'lláh would subject the governments
themselves to a higher law precisely to prevent international
warfare. In short, the differences between Hobbes'
and Bahá'u'lláh's political models would seem more
striking than the similarities.
In the tablet to
the Sháh, Bahá'u'lláh renounces any claim to establish
a global government[8] and recognizes the right of
the Sháh to govern Iran, but this again is the separation
of church and state, and not advocacy of royal absolutism.
From this tablet it is not possible to deduce anything
more specific about Bahá'u'lláh's thought at this time
concerning forms of government. This might be because
it would have been impolitic to go into details in
a letter addressed to the Sháh, because he simply had
not worked out any opinion regarding forms of government,
or perhaps because Bahá'u'lláh is concerned here rather
with the ethics of government than its form. He calls
on the Sháh, who was in fact the court of last appeal,
to redress the wrongs suffered by the Bahá'ís: this
does not imply that he did not think the Sháh ought
in principle to delegate judicial and other powers.
Another early work
which might lead the reader to suppose a substantial
change in Bahá'u'lláh's political thought is the Tablet
to the Kings, of late 1867. This work also receives
a thoughtful and generally illuminating treatment in
chapter three. In this tablet Bahá'u'lláh warns Sultán
`Abdu'l-'Azíz against the corruption of his ministers
and says "Take heed that thou resign not the reins
of the affairs of thy state into the hands of others"
and tells him that "None can discharge thy functions
better than thine own self."[9] This sounds as if the
Tanzimat form of cabinet government is being rejected
in favour of royal absolutism. However Cole explains
elsewhere that from the late 1860s the Young Ottomans,
whose success in spreading their ideas had otherwise
been quite limited, "attracted the support of some
very high-ranking officials, who
for their own reasons
wanted to reduce the sultan's power" (p. 70, emphasis
added). So perhaps the question is not whether the
sultan should employ consultative methods and delegate
power, but who could be trusted.[10] Bahá'u'lláh also
tells the Sultán in that work, "Gather around thee
those ministers from whom thou canst perceive the fragrance
of faith and of justice, and take thou counsel with
them". Cole shows that 'counsel' (
shúrá) by
this time implies delegated power and consultative
government (pp. 55-56). He even concludes that this
tablet "suggests that [Bahá'u'lláh] had a much more
democratic outlook than the ... Tanzimat reformers."
(p. 56). If this was so in 1867, how does Cole conclude
that there is a major shift in Bahá'u'lláh's thought,
from a Hobbesian position in 1868 to a fully democratic
position in 1873?
On another question,
Cole says "That major Ottoman intellectuals were vigorously
debating the prospects for a permanent peace while
Bahá'u'lláh was exiled in Edirne [December 1863—August
1868] provides a potentially important context for
his own evolution from Babi militancy toward commitment
to world unity." But Cole himself shows that two of
the preconditions for inter-national peace, the abolition
of
jihad and of the ritual uncleanliness of
peoples of other religions, were part of Bahá'u'lláh's
first public announcement of his programme, in 1863
(p. 149). Moreover he cites an autobiographic passage
which shows that the roots of these positions can be
traced in Bahá'u'lláh's childhood, and another which
says that the encounter with the holy which Bahá'u'lláh
understood as the beginning of divine revelation (and
which Cole dates in June 1862) came to him in response
to his own prayers "for that which was the cause of
love, fellowship, and unity among all who are on earth."
(p. 115). Cole's dating of the experience referred
to in this passage presumably rests on the traditional
dating of the
Book of Certitude in 1862 (p.
170: this date is probably one or two years too late).
But the experience might well have occurred before
Bahá'u'lláh's exile to Iraq. Cole himself presents
evidence that Bahá'u'lláh had already conveyed his
prophetic status to at least two believers in 1858
(p. 169) which, if we take his autobiographic account
at face value, implies a "commitment to world unity"
at an even earlier date. Where then is the evidence
of an earlier period in which Bahá'u'lláh shared the
ideas of the militant Bábís or had not evolved a vision
of world unity? The fact that the issue was being debated
at the time Bahá'u'lláh was living in Edirne may well
have provided the occasion for him to address the subject,
but does not prove a causative relationship.
Another important
instance of supposed change in Bahá'u'lláh's ideas
comes in chapter 6, where Cole says that "Bahá'u'lláh
did not, in the early 1870s, have a vision of women
as equal with men socially" (p. 172) but that "later
in the Akka period [he] appears to have moved toward
a more egalitarian vision of gender relations" (p.
175). This is based on the inheritance laws and references
to the members of the Houses of Justice as
rijál
(males) in the Kitáb-i-Aqdas, as evidence of social
inequality in Bahá'u'lláh's teachings in the 1870s,
versus a number of passages according full social equality,
and even superiority to women. The latter texts "probably
come from the 1870s and 1880s" (p. 178) according to
Cole, but he does not present any dates or evidence
for dating for any of the eight passages which he cites.
If they did come from the 1870s the interval for the
progression he supposes would be short indeed. What
then of the 'earlier' period? The passage from the
Most Holy Book which refers to
rijál,
which Cole dates around 1873, might as we have seen
be dated several years earlier. If so, this would seem
to allow time for the kind of progression which is
suggested. But Cole also cites passages from
Questions
and Answers, the
Ishráqát (Splendours) and
the
Kalimát-i-Firdawsíyyah (Words of Paradise)
in which Bahá'u'lláh uses the same term for the members
of the Houses of Justice. These are later works: the
Ishráqát can be plausibly dated in August 1885,
which would make it contemporary with those texts which
show a "more egalitarian vision of gender relations".
Moreover Cole himself shows that the term
rijál,
in Bahá'u'lláh's writings, is sometimes used to refer
specifically to women, where faithful and courageous
female disciples are accorded "honorary male status."
(p. 176) Are we to suppose that this was not the case
in the
Most Holy Book, and if so, on what evidence?
As regards the inheritance
laws, Cole has followed earlier writers in supposing
that these favour the male heirs (p. 172), which is
true if the deceased is a man. But in his
Questions
and Answers Bahá'u'lláh has stipulated that if
the deceased is a woman the 'wife's' share is allotted
to the husband (Q55), and the sons' share to the daughters,
if there are any (Q37). This is a bilineal pattern
of inheritance, in which the male heirs and especially
the eldest son have a symbolic and to some extent economic
primacy when their father dies, and the daughters have
the same first claim when their mother dies. The question
which Cole has tried to resolve by placing Bahá'u'lláh's
ideas in chronological order is therefore simply resolved,
using concepts which Cole himself presents. In discussing
early twentieth-century feminism in the United States,
Cole identifies three core elements: opposition to
sexual hierarchy, denial of biological determinism,
and "recognition that women perceive themselves as
a social grouping and not only a biological category."
(p. 165) He has demonstrated that the first two are
to be found in Bahá'u'lláh's teachings, and we have
seen that the texts which he adduces to show that Bahá'u'lláh
"did not ... have a vision of women as equal with men
socially" are considerably less strong than he supposes.
The inheritance law and some similar texts which address
and respect women as a distinct social group can be
understood as reflecting the third of these elements
of feminism, without which the programme of women's
rights would amount to androgyny. These are complementary
elements in a coherent and egalitarian vision of women's
potential role in family and society, rather than successive
stages in Bahá'u'lláh's intellectual progress.
Another minor chronological
problem is the rejection of the biological basis of
racism and ethnic nationalism, ideas which Cole says
Bahá'u'lláh gradually developed during the 1860s (p.
146). But the text he quotes, illustrating Bahá'u'lláh's
rejection of ethnic or national chauvinism (p. 147),
is from 1858.
Pending further evidence,
it must be concluded that Cole's claim to have discovered
substantial change is more of a postulate than a conclusion.
The effect of this postulate is to exaggerate the extent
of interaction between Bahá'u'lláh's thought and contemporary
streams of thought, and to reduce the need to probe
for the connections between apparently contrasting
statements from Bahá'u'lláh. It is also evident from
this quick glance at chronological problems that we
do not yet have a consistent intellectual biography
of Bahá'u'lláh.
Chapter three places
Bahá'u'lláh's political thought in the context of the
absolutism which characterized Qájár political theory
of the 1880s, and the Iranian reform movement. He shows
that Bahá'u'lláh and `Abdu'l-Bahá's letters and some
widely distributed books served to communicate reformist
ideas already current among the Ottoman reformers to
the more isolated land of Iran (p. 77). Cole concludes
"the Bahá'í prophet predicted and explicitly advocated
representative government on the British model ...
whereas the National League petitioners eschew European
laws and institutions, wishing only to implement a
rule of law according to the Islamic code ... if the
supporters of such reformist petitions were progressive,
then clearly Bahá'u'lláh was even more so." (p. 101).
Bahá'u'lláh, he says, should be included among the
intellectual forebears of the Iranian Constitutional
revolution (p. 108). This is an important evaluation,
especially if we consider that Goldziher treated the
Bahá'í Faith as a conservative political force.
The book would be
memorable for this chapter alone, especially as little
of this material was covered in his earlier IJMES paper,
but I would like to take issue with one important detail.
The chapter deals extensively with `Abdu'l-Bahá's
The
Secret of Divine Civilization (
Risáliy-i-Madaníyyih),
which Cole says was the second reformist treatise to
be published and circulated in Iran (p. 89). As part
of this discussion, Cole says that "`Abdu'l-Bahá urges
a separation of powers, including an executive, a legislature,
and a judiciary ... the regime is in charge of the
executive, but the learned and scientists should be
in charge of the legislature" (p. 84). According to
Cole, this legislature is to consist of selected experts.
If this were true it would hardly be compatible with
`Abdu'l-Bahá's advocacy of an elected parliamentary
legislature whose members must periodically face the
electorate (
The Secret of Divine Civilization,
p. 24, a passage which Cole himself quotes on pp. 83-4).
Nor would it be clear why `Abdu'l-Bahá passes from
mentioning this body of scholars to the necessary reforms
of the judiciary. Cole seems to have been misled here
by Gail's translation, which reads "The state is, moreover,
based upon two potent forces, the legislative and the
executive. The focal centre of the executive power
is the government, while that of the legislative is
the learned ..." (
ibid, p. 37). But this is
a poor translation. What `Abdu'l-Bahá says is that
the sphere of governance is maintained by two mighty
forces, the power of explanation (
tashrí'yat,
the explanation of the
shariah, although in
a later period the word would come to mean legislation)
and the power of implementation (
tanfídhiyat).
The centre of the latter is the government, while those
learned ones who are prudent are the point of reference
(
marja') for the latter (My translation,
Risáliy-i-Madaníyyih,
p. 44). He is talking therefore about the distinction
between religious institutions and the mechanisms of
government, not about the separation of powers within
the government.
A great deal has
been lost in the translation. In the first place, these
two forces or 'powers' (
qoveh) are not the institutionalized
'powers' of the American constitution, but something
more like dynamic cosmic principles which underlie
the nature of society. In this scheme, the legislature,
executive and civil judiciary would all be expressions
of the 'power of implementation' and therefore center
on government in the broader sense. Second, the term
marja' clearly connotes the usúlí doctrine of
the
Marja' at-Taqlíd (the Point of Imitation),
according to which every believer is required to seek
out one
mujtahid and follow his rulings on matters
such as the correct performance of religious obligations.
What is happening here is that `Abdu'l-Bahá is taking
over the terminology and some of the arguments which
were used by the Usúlí school to support the position
of senior clerics as 'points of imitation' for their
flocks, and is subverting it. He does this first by
arguing for a collective and consultative
marja'
on the grounds that no adequately educated individuals
are available, a suggestion which would have fallen
on stony ground by the senior Usúlí `ulamá. Second
he suggests that the qualifications for membership
should include knowledge of the scriptures of other
faiths, of the requisites of progress and civilization,
of the laws and societies of other nations, history,
and "all the useful branches of learning". In short,
he has disqualified the Usúlí clergy, which is droll
indeed.
The
mujtahids
who served as points of imitation also maintained courts
which operated in parallel with the civil courts and
could at times effectively invalidate their powers,
but could also contradict one-another. This is why
`Abdu'l-Bahá goes from discussing a collective institution
of scholars to law reform. His collective
marja'
is also to reform the administration of the
religious
law. If one thought of this body of scholars as a civil
legislature, this recommendation would contradict Bahá'u'lláh's
and `Abdu'l-Bahá's resolute rejection of government
interference in matters of religion. All these contradictions
are resolved if one understands that the purpose of
this body is not to legislate as part of the apparatus
of government but rather to supplant the senior Shí`ih
clergy in providing institutionalized social and religious
leadership.
It is difficult to
see why Cole should have missed this. He has shown
in this book that Bahá'u'lláh and `Abdu'l-Bahá both
advocated elected popular government and the separation
of church and state. Cole himself has translated `Abdu'l-Bahá's
Treatise on Leadership which provides the best
source to confirm the reading of the
Risáliy-i-Madaníyyih
given above.[11] Moreover in other cases he has
amended Gail's translations.[12] The fact that he has
in this instance not revised Gail's translation in
the line which would seem to be indicated by his own
research is a small indication of how much work is
involved if we are to review and rethink virtually
everything which we have thought we knew about Bahá'u'lláh's
social teachings and their impact on modernization
in the Middle East. The presence of such minor inconsistencies
cannot detract from the invaluable conceptual shift
which has been made.
The Bahá'í reform
programme was not limited to institutional and constitutional
reform. Cole gives equal attention to advocacy for
the poor, of universal and modern education, and of
consultative bodies (Houses of Justice) to organize
the affairs of the Bahá'í community. He says that Bahá'u'lláh
gave a sanction based on both reason and his own revelation
to the use of consultation in both the Bahá'í community
and in governance. Consultation, and the establishment
of consultative bodies is thus a common theme in both
spheres, and Cole shows that similar or identical terms
for consultation are used in relation to parliaments
and the Bahá'í administrative institutions. He might
have gone on to say that the very term 'House of Justice'
which Bahá'u'lláh chose was already in use to refer
to both a parliament and a department of justice.[13]
The chapter contains
a valuable critique of the current standard Bahá'í
translation of a phrase in Bahá'u'lláh's
Ishráqát
(Splendours) which reads "All matters of State (
umúr-i-siyásiyyih)
should be referred to the House of Justice, but acts
of worship must be observed according to that which
God hath revealed in His Book." If this were an accurate
translation it would contradict Bahá'u'lláh's clear
teaching that God "hath committed the world and the
cities thereof to the care of the kings of the earth,
and made them the emblems of His own power, by virtue
of the sovereignty He hath chosen to bestow upon them.
He hath refused to reserve for Himself any share whatever
of this world's dominion."[14] Cole claims with some
plausibility that
siyásiyyih was not used to
refer to the state or government politics in the 19th
century, but rather leadership in general or setting
punishments. Bahá'u'lláh was later to explain "According
to the fundamental laws ... in the Kitáb-i-Aqdas and
other Tablets, all affairs are committed to the care
of just kings and presidents and of the Trustees of
the House of Justice,"[15] a self-interpretation which
Cole might have called on to strengthen his case.
Chapter 4, 'Disciplining
the state', draws attention to similarities between
Bahá'u'lláh's ideas regarding peace and disarmament
and 'European peace thought', from Saint-Pierre and
Rousseau to Saint-Simon. As he says, the similarities
might be "largely the result of utopian realist reformers
responding in similar ways to similar challenges" (p.
130), but he also shows plausible channels for a direct
influence from these thinkers to Middle Eastern intellectuals
such as Münif Pasha, at-Tahtawi and Mirza Malkum Khan.
Among the more illuminating
sections of this chapter is that relating Bahá'u'lláh's
anti-imperialist attitudes in the Tablet of Maqsúd
(1881) to the British invasion of Egypt in 1882 to
suppress the `Urabi constitutional revolution (pp.
131—135). The explanations of Bahá'u'lláh's rejection
of colonial or quasi-colonial involvement by European
powers, here and in the previous chapter, are important
because the Bahá'í literature has not covered this
part of Bahá'u'lláh's teachings, while anti-Bahá'í
propaganda in the Middle East has very often claimed
that the Bahá'í Faith is nothing more than a tool in
the hands of one or other European power. Bahá'u'lláh's
critique of romantic nationalism, the first part of
his critique of modernity to be dealt with here, can
easily be portrayed by nationalists in the Middle East
as unpatriotic. But it should be clear that the same
critique applies equally to the European nationalisms
which underpinned colonial expansion. In letters from
the early 1880s which Cole translates (pp. 134) Bahá'u'lláh
condemns the expansionism of the colonial powers, whom
he terms 'unbelievers' motivated by 'greed and avarice'.
But he is also clear that the weakness of "the divine
party" (i.e., Islamic societies) "is their own fault."
Such sentiments explain the presence of Bahá'í's such
as Shaykhu'r-Rais among the early pan-Islamists (p.
103). Bahá'u'lláh's solution differs from pan-Islamism
in including the West in: he hopes not only for an
islamic renaissance but also to establish institutions
of global collective security in which occident and
orient would participate as equals.
Bahá'u'lláh's critique
of the dark side of modernity — nationalism, mass
warfare, colonialism, and racism — together with his
constructive alternatives lead Cole to suggest that
Bahá'u'lláh could be seen as an advocate of a precocious
postmodernity. Western nationalism, the classical islamic
justification of
jihad against non-believers,
and disabilities imposed on 'non-native' citizens in
both east and west, have a common basis in constructed
identities of the Self and the Other. Bahá'u'lláh's
critique of modernity begins at this fundamental level.
Chapter 5 deals with
aspects of Bahá'u'lláh's universalism, notably his
critique of the use of differences of ethnicity, religion
and language as bases for exclusion in ethnic nationalism,
and his advocacy of equal citizenship for religious
minorities. Both are related in the first place to
religious innovation (Bahá'u'lláh's abolition of the
ritual impurity of nonbelievers) rather than simply
being taken over from the developing western practice.
Cole also draws an interesting link between Bahá'u'lláh's
standpoint epistemology, analogous to Wittgenstein's
thought, and his universalism (p. 151). He devotes
some time to Bahá'u'lláh's project of a world auxiliary
language and script, an idea first broached by Bahá'u'lláh
to Kemal Pasha in 1863, although script reform was
already being debated in Ottoman circles.
Chapter 6 'Women
are as Men' is unique in the secondary literature,
so far as I know, in treating Bahá'u'lláh's critique
of gender differentiation and patriarchy as a key element
in his thought and an important factor in the growth
of the religion. It contains some fascinating portraits
of prominent Bahá'í women, and of Bahá'u'lláh's dialogue
with them. There was no place within Bahá'u'lláh's
universalist frame of reference for the Islamic traditionalist
critique that identified greater freedoms and public
responsibilities for women with colonial influences
aimed at disrupting the Islamic social order and male
honour. But in his mystical poetry Bahá'u'lláh goes
beyond merely removing social disabilities for women
to provide a positive theological basis for a re-valuation
of the feminine. In these poems Bahá'u'lláh feminizes
God as a beautiful, erotic, but also powerful and terrible
figure "the conflagration at the midst of every fire,
the wisdom underlying every law, the energy that causes
the sun to revolve — at the appearance of whom Moses
was struck unconscious." (p. 168). He even envisions
the possibility that a woman may in the future be selected
by God to found a prophetic religion (p. 177).
Some of these poems
date from the 1850s, further undermining Cole's assertion
that Bahá'u'lláh's egalitarian vision of gender relations
dates from the late Akka period. From this, and the
fact that Bahá'u'lláh's advocacy of the education of
girls before 1873 (p. 171) predates the non-Bahá'í
advocacy of this position which Cole demonstrates (pp.
164, 174, 181) by at least 6 years, one has to wonder
whether Cole has demonstrated that the Bahá'í leaders
were "open to the influence of reformist thought" in
the Ottoman empire on this question. Neither does it
follow that the influence was in the opposite direction.
Here and in relation to the other themes dealt with
in the book, it would be equally plausible to suppose
that Bahá'u'lláh's radical social ideas were implications
which he extrapolated autonomously from his early experience
of the divine, an experience which could not be contained
within the categories of traditional Islam.
Cole's discussion
of the Bahá'í inheritance laws in this chapter has
already been mentioned. His apology for their supposed
inequity is not only unnecessary, it misses an important
clue to the extent and nature of Bahá'u'lláh's overturning
of gender role patterns. The inheritance law hints
at a bilineal conception of familial relations which
would balance the androgenous implications of Bahá'u'lláh's
statement that "the maidservants of God are accounted
as men" (p. 176).
This review has necessarily
dealt with the broad lines of the book, and has critiqued
only details. That hardly gives a fair impression of
the whole. I would like to close with one example of
the countless illuminating historical details which
are the book's greatest strength. In chapter 6 Cole
mentions
en passant that `Abdu'l-Bahá attended
Muhammad `Abduh's study classes in Beirut in the 1880s
(p. 181). `Abduh was one of the unnamed co-authors
of Qaim Amin's feminist work of around 1900. And arguments
put forward by such reformers in relation to the Qu`ran
are later cited by `Abdu'l-Bahá to argue that the
Most
Holy Book's permission to men to marry two wives
in fact implies monogamy (p. 171). In this case Cole
does not draw attention to the connection, but for
the attentive reader looking for cross-connections,
Modernity and the Millennium is a treasure-trove
of such gems.
Notes
1. See these works of Shoghi Effendi Rabbani: Bahá'í Administration,
p. 147; The World Order of Bahá'u'lláh, p. 66;
versus The Advent of Divine Justice, p. 15;
God Passes By, p. 364; Messages to the Bahá'í
World, p. 155; The World Order of Bahá'u'lláh,
p. 7.
2. Kamran Ekbal,
'Tarikh-i-nazúl wa negáresh-i Kitáb-i-Aqdas', Pazhúheshnámeh
Vol. 1 No. 2, 1997.
3. Bahá'í Studies
Review, Vol. 6 1996, p. 94.
4. Amanat, Resurrection
and Renewal, pp. 407, 203.
5. As translated
in The Proclamation of Bahá'u'lláh, p. 58.
6. As translated
in Browne, A Traveller's Narrative, p. 113.
7. See Browne,
op cit., p. 108 n.1. Such a phrase might be inserted
by a copyist with no love of the Qájárs, but it seems
more likely that it was omitted by `Abdu'l-Bahá in
citing this work in A Traveller's Narrative
because the latter was intended for general publication,
and such a subversive sentiment might have brought
the Bahá'ís into danger. It is also possible that there
are two authentic originals: the one being the form
which Bahá'u'lláh sent to the Sháh and another the
form which he permitted to be distributed within the
community.
8. As translated
in Browne, A Traveller's Narrative, p. 396.
A parallel but clearer passage is quoted by Cole at
page 35.
9. Gleanings
from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh, pp. 233, 237.
10. It is interesting
to note that Midhat Pasha, one of the reform-minded
officials around the sultan, was one of the group who
deposed the sultan in 1876.
11. For the "Treatise on Leadership
see Juan R. I. Cole. "`Abdu'l-Bahá's 'Treatise on Leadership': Text, Translation, Commentary." Translations of Shaykhi, Babi and Bahá'í Texts vol. 2, no. 2 (May, 1998). Note particularly the paragraph
in section 14 which describes the government executive
asking the religious specialist to provide an interpretation
of the meaning of divine law. This is a close parallel
for the passage in The Secret of Divine Civilization
discussed here.
12. See e.g., pp.
83-84.
13. For instance,
'adálat-khána (House of Justice) was the name of the
Ministry of Justice under Nasir al-Din Sháh, and the
same name was used in the constitutional movement in
reference to something resembling a 'parliament'. (See
Yarshater, in Bosworth, Qajar Iran, p. 5; Algar,
Religion and State in Iran, p. 247)
14. Gleanings
from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh, CXXIX, p. 304.
Similar passages are found in many of Bahá'u'lláh's
works.
15. Lawh-i-dunya,
Tablets of Bahá'u'lláh, pp. 92-93.