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The Making of a Weak State: The iranian Constitutional Revolution of 1905-1906
Centre for the Study of Democracy
University of Westminster
May, 1995 Research Papers, Number 6
INTRODUCTION
While the Iranian revolution of 1979 has attracted most attention and controversy, the Constitutional Revolution of 1905-6 is unknown to all but the specialist. The first Iranian revolution, however, has a central place in the country's history, as it marked Iran's first attempt at replacing its traditional political system with a Western European-style constitutional form of government.
The first Iranian constitution, hastily drafted by the European-educated Iranian intelligentsia on the model of the Belgian constitution, was meant to limit the power of the shah and empower the parliament to conduct the affairs of the country. The main forces behind the constitutional movement were the merchants, the ulama (clergy), and the intelligentsia. The merchants financed the revolution, the ulama gave it their religious blessing, and the intelligentsia, inspired by Western European liberalism, and particularly by the French Revolution, formulated its revolutionary ideology. All three groups, in one form or another, either resented the despotism of the Qajar dynasty (1789-1925) or had been adversely affected by the Qajar monarchs' foreign and domestic policies as well as by the presence of imperial powers in Iran. 1
Before exploring the dynamics of the Constitutional Revolution, it is worth comparing the events of 1905-6 and those of 1979, as one is sure to find striking similarities between the two revolutions. In 1979, as in the first Iranian revolution, the clergy, the intelligentsia and the merchants were also in the vanguard. Whereas the Constitutional Revolution, however -as the literature argues - was a call for a Western-style liberal democracy, the second was (with the exception of the demands of secular opposition groups) a rejection of this system.
Both revolutions have two significant phenomena in common. First, in both 1905-6 and 1979 Iranian society showed a remarkable degree of strength, solidarity and kinship in its battle against the state. Second, in both cases alliances were formed between revolutionary forces with very different socio-economic outlooks and ideologies. As this paper illustrates, nineteenth-century Iranian society was able successfully to challenge central government for two reasons: first, because its various elements enjoyed a unique socio-economic and ideological interdependence; and, second, because it could manage its own affairs and ultimately survive without much help from the state. The strength of Iranian society was put to the test seventy three years later against a much stronger state - with startling success.
The Constitutional Revolution failed to achieve most of its goals. Instead of establishing justice, the rule of law and some sense of order, it pushed the country further into chaos and disorder, indeed almost to the point of total collapse. This paper is a preliminary inquiry into some of the reasons for this failure: its aim is to present an alternative interpretation of the causes, nature and consequences of the Constitutional Revolution to that found in the literature.
The urban character of the Constitutional Revolution and its liberal rhetoric have prompted scholars to identify and analyze it as a modern (bourgeois) revolution. This line of argument conforms implicitly with Theda Skocpol's influential theory about the structure of modern revolutions. In States and Social Revolution, a comparative study of the French, Russian and Chinese revolutions, Skocpol argues that the causes, aims and outcomes modern revolutions have common features:
In all three Revolutions, the externally mediated crises combined with internal structural conditions and trends to produce a conjuncture of: (1) the incapacitation of the central state machineries of the old Regiments; (2) widespread rebellions by the lower classes, most crucially peasants; and (3) attempts by mass-mobilizing political leaderships to consolidate revolutionary state power. The revolutionary outcome in each instance was a centralized, bureaucratic, and mass-incorporating nation-state with enhanced great-power potential in the international arena. . . new potentials for development were created by the greater state centralization and mass political incorporation of the new Regimes. 2
What makes the above paradigm even more attractive for an analysis of the Constitutional Revolution is, first, that Iran, - like the three countries studied by Skocpol - had not been colonized and, second, that Iranian society was agrarian. What distinguishes Iran from the other three, however, is its size and relative power in the international scene.
Using an approach similar to Skocpol's, the literature on the Constitutional Revolution suggests that, by the end of the nineteenth century, discontented groups in Iranian society strongly opposed both the domination of Iran by Russia and Britain and the state of lawlessness in the country. They wanted to replace the ineffective and despotic Qajar state with one that protected domestic interests and promoted the rule of (secular) law, while at the same time curtailing, through laws passed by the parliament, the arbitrary powers of the king. This (standard) analysis also argues that the Constitutional Revolution was an attempt to create a state that resembled those found in nineteenth century Western Europe. 3 This approach implies, therefore, that the revolutionary forces envisioned the creation of a state with fairly strong bureaucratic, rule-setting, and legal power. In other words, what is commonly referred to as a modern state. 4
This paper puts forward a different argument. Though the creation of a Western European-style political system (involving the rule of law and a modern state) was the goal of most of the intelligentsia, the interests of the ulama and merchants, and of most of the courtiers of the kingdom, lay in perpetuating the traditionally weak Iranian state. This paper will argue that the socio-political order and, to some extent, the sort of lawlessness that obtained in the country were advantageous to all these powerful groups. Further, their advocacy of constitutionalism and the rule of law was simply a clever and expedient response to the policies of the central government. When, after the revolution, the proposed new political system threatened to undermine their interests, these groups used their influence to prevent the institutionalization of the new regime and fomented enough trouble to bring about the collapse of the system.
STATE AND SOCIETY IN NINETEENTH CENTURY IRAN
The roots of the Constitutional Revolution can be better understood by inspecting closely the nature of, and the relationship between, state and society in nineteenth century Iran, as well as the changes this relationship underwent.
When the new dynasty of the Qajars consolidated power in 1789, it inherited a country which, since the fall of the Safavid dynasty in 1722, had suffered repeated foreign invasions and had been scarred by persistent tribal warfare. Chaos and war had debilitated the state and weakened its ability to rule and preserve order. In claiming the throne, defeating contenders in the north of Iran, and producing a sense of order throughout the country, the Qajars appeared to reconstruct the state. In reality, however, the state remained weak: for the Qajars faced a country with multiple and contending power structures, none of which was about to yield to the new central authority, especially as such an authority had, to all intents and purposes, not existed for nearly a century. As Sheikholeslami notes:
The local structures of power had preserved and allowed for the continuation of organized life during the period of chaos between the fall of the Safavids in 1722 and the advent of the Qajars in 1789. They formed an underpinning of social life that at the time of Nasir-el-Din Shah's reign [1848-1896] had more history than did the Qajar rule. 5
In other words, the entrenched diversification of power in Iran made state-building extremely difficult. As a consequence, the Qajars were not able to create the foundation of an effective administration and (in contrast to the Safavid dynasty) failed to centralize the institution of the state.
The Qajars delegated their authority and other matters of state, such as maintaining local order, applying justice, and tax collection, to various governors chosen from amongst powerful notables and tribal leaders throughout the country. These governors - some of them royal princes who occasionally rebelled against the throne - in turn enjoyed much, if not total, autonomy from the centre. The office of governor was normally given to the highest bidder. He, in turn, was expected to execute two main tasks: tax collection and the maintenance of order. Governors frequently siphoned off for their own use half the taxes they collected.
In most cases the central government was content with the level of taxes provided to them by the governors. Attempts to increase state revenues through closer scrutiny of abuse by local governors, and of corruption amongst government officials, was mostly unsuccessful. Indeed, the patrimonial shah himself and the royal family were part of the entrenched system of corruption. Money from state coffers was spent on maintaining the luxurious lifestyle of the royal household and on the distribution of salaries among notables and government officials. 6
The inefficient system of tax collection meant the Qajars did not have the resources with which to finance an administration. They could thus not build a strong army and integrate into it the tribes' powerful armies. Indeed, the army remained decentralized and hardly more than an ad hoc institution. In the first decades of the nineteenth century, soldiers were mostly provided by tribal leaders and the soldiers' loyalty was to their own tribe rather than to the central government. During the reign of Nasir-el-Din Shah (1848-1896), a new system of conscription, bunicheh, was introduced which put the burden of providing of soldiers on the villages. (Bunicheh stipulated that the number of soldiers conscripted in a given province should be determined by the amount of revenue collected from that province.) Although this system lasted for a few decades, it did not fundamentally change the nature of the Iranian army as the government was unable to raise enough revenue to support the system. By the end of the nineteenth century - according to conservative accounts - the Persian army numbered only 40,000-60,000. 7
Iranian society in the nineteenth century - as the above suggests - was communal, with each community, whether tribal, peasant or urban, possessing its own network of social interaction. Until the middle of the century, most villages and tribes remained overwhelmingly self-sufficient; this allowed local communities to keep their administrative powers. 8 Malcom describes local life in Iran thus:
In every city or town of any consequence, moreover, the merchants, mechanics and labourers have each a head, or rather a representative, who is charged with the peculiar interest of his class and manages all their concerns with governors. 9
Since the eleventh century Iran had been heavily populated by tribes and nomads. Powerful tribes, such as the Bakhtiaris and Qashqais, formed tribal confederations throughout Iran and thus became forces that the state had to reckon with. In fact, the Bakhtiaris assisted the Qajar dynasty to consolidate its power in the nineteenth century. Commanding their own military forces, tribal leaders ruled over vast areas, and their self-sufficient form of agriculture gave them virtual autonomy from the central government. The state's attempts to bring the tribes under its control were unsuccessful; as a result the kings were forced to grant substantial autonomy to the tribal leaders in exchange for their cooperation. The tribes did provide soldiers for and pay some taxes to the state, but they were by no means at the mercy of the central government. In fact, attempts to enforce tax collection frequently led to violent confrontation between state officials and tribesmen. 10
The Iranian tribes of the nineteenth century, however, did not live in harmony with one another: conflicts over resources were common. This, together with the communal nature of Iranian society, and Iran's varied ethno-linguistic character, enabled the Qajar kings to rule by manipulating intercommunal conflicts. The shahs, using a patrimonial form of authority, perpetuated their rule not by force but by granting tribes protection from one another. In return, they were allowed to rule without much interference from the tribal leaders.
The Qajars' claim to legitimacy was less secure. Because the religious authorities - the ulama - contested the sovereignty of the state the Qajars had no independent source of legitimacy. According to the Shiite doctrine of government, the state in Iran was a transient form of authority. Actions of the state, the doctrine stated, should conform with Imamate belief. If they did not, they could be interpreted by the ulama as un-Islamic and, therefore, unacceptable.
This implicit power that the ulama had, and their ability to question and undermine the state's authority, has prompted many historians to suggest that a de facto dual authority existed in nineteenth century Iran. 11
The roots of ulama power were put down during the rule of the Safavid dynasty (1501-1722). This was the first dynasty in Iran to make Shiism its official religion, a move which greatly enhanced the position of the ulama. This development created fundamental changes in the relationship between the ulama and the state, or temporal powers. The Safavids claimed to be descendants of the Imams and called themselves Zill-ul-Allah (Shadow of God). The ulama perceived the Safavids as posing a threat to their right to represent the Imams, yet a Shiite state, by virtue of its religious character, increased the power of the ulama.
Because they had a monopoly of the interpretation of Shiite laws and learning, and because of their financial might, based on their income from religious taxes, khoms and zakat, and on their ownership of state-donated religious endowments (waqf), the ulama enjoyed social and cultural hegemony throughout Iran. Powerful ulama could be publicly critical of the government and its policies, and the kings were well aware of how important it was for the ulama to participate in and support public functions. Iranian society looked to the ulama to mediate in its grievances with the state and to protect it from the arbitrary acts of the kings. As protectors of the people, therefore, and as a group whose participation was needed to negotiate everyday matters, the ulama had an intimate relationship with the Iranian population.
Although at times the ulama used their influence in Iran as a weapon against the state, they were well aware of the need for stability and order in the country. Faced with the choice between, on the one hand, anarchy, and, on the other, power based on controlling violence, the ulama developed a working theory of the state which legitimized any existing pattern of rule. By tracing injustice to divine origin rather than to the hierarchy of power, the theologians helped avert rebellion. In times of crisis the ulama preached patience, resignation and passivity to their followers. 12 Sheikholeslami alludes to the conservative nature of the clergy by citing an example of Ayatollah Khomeini's view on the state:
Bad government is better than no government. We have never attacked the Sultanate, if we criticized it was a particular King and not the kingship that was criticized. History shows that the Mujtahids have aided kings, even those kings who did wrong. 13
Some ulama even put forward the idea that an unjust ruler was God's punishment for their subjects' sins and depravity. Ayatollah Shirazi, a prominent Iranian cleric, defined the function of the shah thus:
protector of the true religion and guardian of the law of the Prophet, the foundation of the government. . . The establishment of his government and the strength of his authority perpetuates the safety and security which are the greatest benefits from God. 14
Thus, in the first half of the nineteenth century, a rough consensus on practical relations existed between the religious leaders and the state. The state was responsible for protecting the community, upholding Imamate belief and, most important, for keeping order throughout the country. The clergy, on the other hand, were the guardians of Islam and interpreters of the sharia.
The ulama had a special relationship with the merchants. Historically, the mosques in Iran have been located in the bazaars, the centres of financial activity. The merchants needed the services of the ulama to officiate over and bless their daily business, and the good will of the clergy was essential because of their influence over the population of Iran. The merchants, for their part, furnished the ulama with khoms and zakat and other funds with which to conduct religious ceremonies. In order to gain further influence and to strengthen this patron--client relationship, the merchants occasionally linked themselves to the ulama through intermarriage. In the mid-nineteenth century, this alliance increased in significance as Western penetration and attempts by the state to modernize itself threatened the economic position of both groups. The most significant manifestation of this alliance was the tobacco incident of 1890-92 (see below).
Until 1880, the merchants had maintained good relations with the state. The absence of national banks had given the merchants the opportunity to play a pivotal role in the domestic economy, allowing them to extend their commercial influence to remote areas of the country where the state was nearly non-existent. They were considered trustworthy credit institutions not only for the population but for the state as well. During the government's fiscal crises - of which there were many in the nineteenth century - the Persian monarchs relied heavily on the merchants for emergency loans, and frequently formed joint financial ventures with the merchant class. 15 Gilbar describes this mutually beneficial relationship thus:
The government, which had neither the interest nor the ability to play a major role in the country's economy, gave almost complete freedom to the big merchants in their economic enterprise. The property of big merchants, generally speaking remained intact. . . . If the government were to become more entrepeneuring, the freedom of action of private enterprise was likely to be curtailed. 16
Finally, the peasants in Iran - who constituted the bulk of the population - remained, by and large, politically and socially marginal. Village life in Iran was unitary, self-contained and self-sufficient. The traditional mode of production was communal and each village community organized the supply and distribution of water by building dams and canals. Iranian peasants had few ties to urban areas; it was only the clergy, and occasionally tax collectors, who provided contact with the outside world. Although the surplus of each agricultural unit was insignificant, the total surplus nationwide was large enough for it to be worth the state's while to tax the peasants. Indeed, the peasants' low position in the social hierarchy meant that they could be taxed more easily than other powerful social forces. 17 The peasants, for their part, saw little need for the state in their lives. As Katouzian points out:
Iranian agriculture and peasantry were not dependent on the state for the provision and regulation of water supplies, or anything else. It was the state that drew its economic power from the exploitation of scattered and isolated village units, the agricultural surplus of which it either directly requisitioned or assigned to landlords and tax farmers. 18
STATE AND SOCIETY UNDER THE QAJARS: A THEORETICAL ASSESSMENT
In general, states can be identified and analyzed in institutional and functional terms: in terms of what they look like and of what they do. States also normally possess some degree of power in the following - sometimes overlapping - areas: political, economic, ideological and military. We will now examine these aspects of the nineteenth-century Iranian state. 19
The political system of Qajar Iran is often described as being an example of Oriental despotism, a reference to the term coined by Wittfogel. 20 The most fundamental characteristic of this system is the arbitrary fashion in which the ruling elite governs a large territory. In this system, society is also to some degree dependent on the state's allocation of water for economic - more specifically agricultural - production. Finally, implicit in this definition is also the notion of the rulers being the sole arbiters of political power or, to use Weber's terminology, having the monopoly of the use of physical force.
Arbitrary and despotic the Qajars certainly were and the atrocities they committed are well-documented historical facts. However, sporadic and vicious arbitrary acts are not tantamount to having the coercive power typical of states. For if by coercive power we mean a central authority's ability to control the population of a specific territory; and if states must have the ultimate prerogative to use physical force; then the Qajars' limited ability to exercise such powers meant their rule was not that of a state in the strict sense: it was, rather, a unique form of banditry. The Qajar state had to coexist with powerful tribes and their independent armies, who controlled more than half of the population of Iran and were strong enough to challenge the authority of the state. The mere existence of tribal forces as independent sources of power undermined and put in doubt the Qajars' claim to have a monopoly of the use of force. Of course, historically - the modern bureaucratic states that emerged in Western Europe aside - states have not always had a monopoly of organized force. This was the case in, say, feudal Europe or classical Islam. Nevertheless, the distinguishing feature of states has been their ultimately exclusive right to use physical force. As Poggi notes:
Individually or collectively, members of the population may hold forms of social powers; but they cannot exercise political power, except in the capacity of agents of the state itself, or by influencing the activities of such agents. 21
Institutionally and organizationally the Qajar state was so inefficient, corrupt and feeble that one hesitates even to use the term `traditional state' to describe it. The Qajars were indeed `oriental despots without the instrument of despotism'. 22 They lacked the might and the willingness to undertake perhaps the oldest and most important task performed by states: extraction of resources, including tax collection. To quote Skocpol: `a state's mean of raising and deploying financial resources tell us more than could any other factor about its existing capabilities'. 23 Administrative and coercive organizations supported by financial resources are the basis of state power; this power in turn, can be used with a degree of autonomy against either domestic or foreign powers.
Every state has, in addition, some function in society. Even in prehistoric states, people in central positions used primitive and subtle methods to organize other people and to direct socio-economic activities. As time passed the nature and extent of this role changed. But states have always maintained some basic functional utility in societies.
The temporal nature of the Iranian state and its weak instruments of statehood, coupled with the central government's chronic economic weakness, produced a precarious balance between the state and other, almost equally powerful, social forces: the powerful merchants, the clerical class, and local centres of power. The state's lack of infrastructural and penetrative capabilities allowed these groups to enjoy a great degree of economic, and to a large extent political, autonomy, and gave them the opportunity to regulate themselves. This twofold autonomy allowed these largely independent forces at times to challenge the state's rule-setting and resource-allocation capabilities, and, hence, its hegemony in the country. By catering for the everyday needs of Iranian society, these important social groups established a close relationship with the population of Iran and, between them, provided the masses with all of their primary socio-economic as well as spiritual needs. The existence of such an arrangement between powerful non-state actors and the Iranian people meant that the state had, at best, only a small role to play in the lives of Iranians. In addition, the Iranian state had no formal authority and, under the Shiite doctrine of government, functioned only on the basis of an implicit contractual agreement with society.
The relative strength and autonomy of various social forces vis-à-vis the state produced a society which could be said to have contained an implicit system of checks and balances. As one traveller to nineteenth century Iran observed:
Iranian society [in the nineteenth century] can not be called democratic or despotic. For if referred to as despotic we see that, unlike dictatorships, the Shah of Iran is unable to freely assail the lives and property of the people. Since the influence of the Ulama and the merchants always offset the actions of the Shah and governors, in other words they act like parliaments in constitutional countries. 24
In short, as already suggested, one can even dispute whether, at that time, a state in the strict sense of the term existed at all. Although the Qajar state was strong enough to make its presence felt, mostly through arbitrary acts of violence against the population, it had - even for a traditional state - only a minimal capacity to regulate society, or to be a key actor in social and economic life. In nineteenth-century Iran the distinction between state and society was blurred. Powerful agents in society were continually challenging and undermining state power. This struggle later intensified as the state's policies of centralization began to alter the domestic balance of power, and as the Qajars faced resistance, throughout the country, to their attempts systematically to impose their will on society. We will now look at these developments.
FOREIGN PENETRATION, REFORMS, AND RESISTANCE
In the first half of the nineteenth century, the Qajars suffered humiliating defeats in wars with Great Britain and Russia. After these wars they were forced, in major commercial capitulations, to pay huge indemnities to the imperialist powers. Subsequently, both foreign powers, and their merchants, received political and economic concessions. These concessions led to a rise in the number of foreign merchants, and in the amount of international capital, in Iran. As a result Iran was incorporated into the capitalist world economy and its economic independence eroded. The opening of the Suez Canal, and technological innovations such as the telegraph, facilitated Iran's entry into the capitalist world economy. 25
The rapid growth of international trade with Iran was accompanied by agreements with foreign powers that resulted in low and uniform tax duties being imposed on imports and exports. A steady increase in the importation of European textiles and manufactured goods did great harm to Iranian handicrafts. Before foreign penetration, Keddie notes, `Iranian peasants enjoyed a comfortable life with standards of living comparable to those of Europeans'. 26 By the late nineteenth century, Iranian handicrafts had been replaced by Western European manufactured goods, while the demand for colonial raw materials meant a loss of jobs for peasants, nomads and city artisans. During the second half of the century, Iran was exporting raw materials at five times the rate of the finished goods it was receiving, and it was paying three times more for its imports than it was getting for its exports. 27
Merchants were also adversely affected by foreign imports. The unequal nature of trade with Europeans created immense wealth for those involved in the production of commodities such as silk and opium. These merchants, however, were the exception rather than the rule: as a whole, the nascent Iranian bourgeoisie was no match for European capitalists. 28
The presence of foreign adversaries in Iran thus created an atmosphere of general hostility toward the West. European commerce was detrimental to the Iranian economy, causing dislocation, and thus dissatisfaction, in all groups. The ulama also perceived the presence of Western culture as a threat to their influence in Iran.
In the eyes of those groups in Iranian society adversely affected by these developments, military defeats and foreign encroachment were the consequence of both European power and technological superiority and the weakness of the Qajar dynasty. There was a consensus among the Iranian elites that the government needed to protect Iranians against the Western onslaught, and a nationwide call for the Iranian state to strengthen its position by emulating European progress. A few, European-educated, members of the Qajar elite - the intelligentsia - put forward the notion that Iran's lack of superior modern weaponry and of a modern form of government were the cause of the military and economic setbacks the country had suffered, and of its generally poor condition. 29
The previously conservative ulama, for their part, went so far as to equate modernization and modernism with a return to true Islam. They were facing pressure from their traditional clients, the Iranian population, and, simultaneously, suffering economic hardship as a result of the Western economic and political presence. In response they repeatedly issued statements and papers calling for the progressive precepts of the Koran to be realized, claiming that European ideas such as justice, equality and the right to assembly had been borrowed from Islam. 30
These demands, together with the European military campaigns inside Iran which had exposed the monarch to new military advances and organization, persuaded Nasir-el-Din Shah to launch a programme of state-wide reforms. Some advocates of reform went so far as to suggest that overcoming social backwardness would require the creation of European-style institutions. These suggestions were received favourably by the Qajars. In 1848, the Shah delegated Prime Minister Amir Kabir to undertake the first serious efforts at reforming the state, encouraging him to strengthen the state and modernize the country from above.
However, the reforms did not enjoy the support of the revolutionary forces, even though the latter had called for reforms. The reason for this is that the Qajars used the reforms as a means of increasing their power vis-à-vis their opponents, rather than as a way of defending Iran against external powers. We shall now examine some of these reforms.
Amir Kabir believed firmly that a strong and effective state needed a strong army and he made his primary objective the revival and strengthening of the military. During his three years as prime minister, Amir Kabir had fifteen ammunition factories built and hired European instructors to train Iranian officers. 31 To finance his reforms, he cut court expenses, increased import and government duties, and levied new taxes on landowners who no longer contributed soldiers to the defence of the kingdom. Bunicheh was introduced. 32
These measures produced a strong and immediate negative response in society. `Some courtiers, landlords and Ulama were threatened by Amir Kabir's reforms which included measures that hit their economic and judicial powers.' 33 The new taxes imposed on the landowning classes were considered `not a legitimate substitute for the traditional dues, but an unwanted extortion designed to strengthen the government at the expense of the provinces'. 34
Amir Kabir's most controversial legacy was Iran's first secular high school, Dar-ul-Funun, literally `House of Science'. Before Dar-ul-Funun was built, the only type of education in Iran had been provided by the religiously dominated maktabs and madrases. The basic function of these institutions, which were run by the mullahs and thus beyond state control, was the teaching of enough Arabic and Persian for pupils to be able to read the Koran. Dar-ul-Funun was designed to teach modern sciences - engineering, mechanics, and physics - and an overall curriculum outside the control of the ulama. Well aware of the possible consequences of his reforms and of the hostility they could generate among the ulama, Amir Kabir repeatedly proclaimed that his reforms were consistent with Islamic values. He insisted that they were meant to make the existing system more efficient, not dismantle it. 35 Nevertheless, his reforms changed the nature of the state--clergy equilibrium:
There was a continuing tendency for the conflict between ulama and state to expand and deepen. Intermittent attempts at westernising certain aspects of the state necessarily pushed forward the line of demarcation between clerical and monarchical power into the realm of the former....as the state advanced far-reaching claims, the dispute inevitably became more bitter. Reforms offered tyranny, at least in theory. 36
Amir Kabir's state-wide reforms created an atmosphere of political instability and he was unseated in 1851 and later killed.
Following the toppling of Amir Kabir, Nasir-el-Din Shah appointed, and subsequently dismissed, a number of ministers between 1858 and 1870. Nearly all of the appointees, except for Malkam Khan, 37 whose goal was to establish a European-style parliamentary system, were concerned more with their own welfare than with the state's. 38 In 1870, Nasir-el-Din Shah appointed Mirza-Hussein Khan, a French-educated secularist and a great admirer of the West, as prime minister. Mirza Hussein's reforms were a radical departure from the traditional Iranian way of life. Like Amir Kabir, he did not directly challenge the ulama and other influential groups, but he did seize every opportunity to undermine their influence. His ultimate goals were the creation of a strong centralized state and the introduction of parliamentarianism to Iran. As minister of justice and later prime minister, he undertook nationwide judicial reforms aimed at establishing independent tribunals and a unified secular code of law, and at diminishing not only the ulama's role in judicial matters but the arbitrary authority of the king himself. 39
Since the beginning of the sixteenth century, two types of courts had existed in Iran: the religiously inspired shar and the state's urf courts. As customary law, urf was practised according to the state's needs, without reference to any precedent or established principles. In short, it was arbitrary law, whose aim was to preserve the security of the state. Shar jurisdiction was administered by the clergy and dealt with the everyday affairs of the population. Shar courts were more popular for two reasons: first, in urf courts the right to appeal was negligible, and people often resorted to the ulama to mediate between them and the state in their cases. Second, Iranians felt more comfortable with the religious shar courts, since Islamic laws and regulations were more relevant to their cases and covered every aspect of their lives. However, there was no clear distinction between urf and shar jurisdictions and they frequently overlapped. This would become a major source of conflict between the state and the ulama. 40
Mirza Hussein founded legislative, criminal and executive courts to handle all aspects of Iranian life. Their decisions proceeded from the newly established Ministry of Justice. Implicit in the spread of secular jurisprudence was a closer control of the ulama by the central government. 41 Using the power of these courts, Hussein attempted to reach the villages and rural areas of Iran whose governors and landlords enjoyed a de facto authority to settle all disputes. 42 To finance his efforts, Hussein levied taxes on the provinces, which angered landowners. He also created hostility among governors by conscripting soldiers from the provinces. 43 Mirza Hussein Khan's actions, like those of Amir Kabir, created dissatisfaction amongst prominent groups in Iran.
A coalition began to form among all who found Mirza-Hussein Khan's reforms detrimental to their own power. The provisional governors who were accustomed to autonomy, the official class with its traditional training and outlook and the ulama who were suspicious of any efforts that might encroach on their domain. 44
These influential groups gradually stirred up the residents of the capital against Mirza Hussein and Nasir-el-Din Shah dismissed him, reluctantly, in September 1873.
The reforms of the second half of the nineteenth century were a systematic effort by the Qajars and their ministers not only to increase the administrative power, rule-setting capabilities and reach of the central government, but also to replace the traditional Iranian state with a modern, secular bureaucratic state.
However, as noted, the state was using its policies of modernization in order to increase its power in its confrontations with domestic opponents, rather than as a way of defending Iranian state and society against the imperialist powers. This engendered opposition from those forces which had called for reform of the state, as they wanted the state to remain weak within Iran, as it had been before the Qajars came to power.
An irony in this development (as we shall see) is that the forces opposed to the Qajar state came to advocate parliamentarianism as an alternative to Qajar despotism; yet the very reforms which they interpreted as increasing despotism created the foundations of a state compatible with a parliamentary system of government.
THE COMING REVOLUTION
By the mid-1880s, the Qajar court was almost bankrupt. The presence of imperial powers in Iran offered the Qajars the opportunity to ward off insolvency by means other than by increasing centralization and raising taxes: in exchange for royalties and foreign loans, Nasir-el-Din-Shah granted concessions to foreign companies. This decision was to prove disastrous for the Qajar state.
On the one hand, the accumulation of debts greatly increased Iran's dependence on foreign powers. On the other, the concessions affected adversely the economic interests of prominent groups in Iran. In this way, the government inadvertently cemented the alliance between the clergy and the urban mercantile class, and, as a consequence, both came to formulate and represent a `national interest'.
The ulama, as opponents of Western imperialism, became the mouthpiece of the `national interest'. By themselves, they lacked the resources to confront the Qajar state and the influence of the great powers. United with the merchants, however, they became a formidable force: together, these two formed the strongest opposition group in Iranian society.
By the end of the nineteenth century the European-educated intelligentsia had joined the clergy and merchants to form a new - triple - alliance. 45 Before 1890, reform-minded Iranians had been hostile to the ulama, perceiving them as backward and reactionary. But the struggle against foreign control, and hence for Iran's independence, became a unifying force. Between 1890 and 1907 a reconciliation took place between the secularist, reform-minded intelligentsia and the ulama opposed to the regime's policies. 46 The tobacco incident was the most important manifestation of this triple alliance and planted the seeds of the 1905 Constitutional Revolution. 47
In 1890, Nasir-el-Din Shah granted, to British subjects, a monopoly of the production, distribution, sale and export of tobacco. The tobacco industry employed over 200, 000 people. The merchants of the bazaar, across Iran, and the ulama, who had a financial interest in the industry, began a nationwide campaign against the British monopoly. Ayatollah Shirazi, the most prominent cleric of the period, issued a fatwa against the use of tobacco, and the merchants, in a show of solidarity, responded by shutting down the main bazaars throughout the country. Unable to placate the protesters, the shah abrogated the concession in 1892.
The tobacco incident proved that the shah's policies could be reversed and, as such, was an encouraging sign for those who wished to limit the arbitrary power of the Qajars.
The crisis revealed the fundamental changes that had taken place in 19th century Iran. It demonstrated that local revolts could now spread into general rebellions; that the intelligentsia and the traditional middle class could work together and that the Shah despite his claim, was a titan with feet of clay. The tobacco protest in fact was a dress rehearsal for the coming constitutional movement. 48
The events of 1890-1892 are also another clear indication of the systematic inability of the Iranian state to implement its socio-economic policies and to enforce its rule in the country. Moreover, they demonstrated how the particular patterns of interdependence and cooperation among various powerful groups in Iran could translate into a challenge to the power of the central government. This coherent and united response was to continue in the face of state policies implemented after the tobacco incident and culminated in the Constitutional Revolution.
Following the events of the tobacco concession, Amin-el-Duala, the new reform-minded prime minister, convinced the new shah, Mozafar-el-Din, that he should finance the bankrupt Iranian state in two ways: first, he should continue to look outside Iran for loans, as it had become apparent that domestic measures had failed; second, he should institute further reforms. What made these proposals different from previous ones was the introduction of a European-style government, that is, one that included a strict system of taxation, the imposition of customs duties, and the introduction of tariff reforms. These changes were to be overseen by recently employed European officials. In addition, the prime minister hoped to remedy the state's financial crisis, and its huge budget deficit, by inspecting closely state officials and Qajar courtiers. 49
In 1897, Amin-el-Duala employed Belgian officials to oversee the collection of customs duties and to make sure that fees were paid directly to the officials. Furthermore, by emulating the European system of road tax, the shah abolished the system in which merchants had bribed local governors and officials stationed at Iran's entry points. This threatened to undermine the governors' and officials' livelihoods. (Before the new tax, it had been customary for customs duties to be paid on the basis of a mutually beneficial agreement between the merchants and the officials. No uniform duties were imposed and fees fluctuated markedly from place to place. 50 ) The new system of tax collection also threatened the provisional governors by jeopardizing their privileged position in the countryside. Under the old system, as we have noted, governors had passed on only half the taxes they collected and had presented the government with fraudulent tax documents. 51
Amin-el-Duala's actions hurt the merchants, cut the financial lifeline of the governors and courtiers, and created hostility among the corrupt officials of the Qajar state. The ulama, who had always been afraid of any foreign presence, were suspicious of the prime minister. Amin-el-Duala could not survive the domestic pressure and he was replaced in 1898.
His successor, Amin-el-Sultan, however, proposed to continue his predecessor's policies. Joseph Naus, the leader of the Belgian delegation, put forward a new and detailed programme of reforms aimed at extracting further resources and raising state revenues. Under the new reforms, foreigners were subject to a five per cent ad valorem duty while their Iranian counterpart paid duty at two per cent. Naus also increased transit duties for passage through the interior of the country and raised taxes on all imports and exports regardless of their origin. By 1900, the Qajar administration had increased customs revenues from £200,000 per annum to £350,000 - £400,000 per annum. 52
The merchants were hit hardest by these measures, while the ulama viewed recent events as a serious threat to their pockets. Meanwhile, the use of Belgian officials had created a newly dissatisfied group at the administrative level. Government and court officials regarded Naus and his men as both competitors for their long-standing source of income and as a threat to their historically privileged position within the state. 53 The Qajar bureaucracy and state officials became further agitated when in 1904 Amin-el-Sultan's successor, Ain-el-Duala, decided not to apply for more foreign loans. Instead, he chose to increase internal revenues by raising taxes imposed on state officials and provincial governors, and by lowering court salaries. Harding, a British official, described the consequences of the tax increases:
This new tax on salaries and pensions, from the uniform and systematic character of its incidence, is most distasteful to the Persian bureaucracy, as well as to the Princes, hereditary governors, and aristocratic classes generally, who have hitherto milked the state whilst being milked from time to time by those immediately above them, and having grown up under this corrupt and gambling system, they have so adapted their methods to it, that any change in it confuses and alarms them. 54
Harding's statement is a telling picture of socio-political relations, and of the changes they were undergoing, in nineteenth century Iran. Events precipitated by state policies in the 1890s were beginning to redistribute power and threaten the methods by which all groups were accustomed to surviving. There was a clear struggle taking place between state and society. This struggle was to reach its climax in 1905.
From the early months of 1904, Iranian cities, especially Tehran, witnessed nationwide demonstrations, sit-ins and agitations against the prime minister and his European aides. Religious ceremonies were transformed into anti-state political gatherings, and Belgian officials, Joseph Naus in particular, became targets that unified all the discontented groups in Iran.
One might assume that, on the eve of the revolution, the coalition of the ulama, merchants and intelligentsia had similar views on the nature, ideology and goals of the movement. However, a close inspection of the available sources reveals that the revolutionary bloc was simply a marriage of convenience and that sharp ideological differences existed within it.
Only the intelligentsia had a clear understanding of the political system - constitutional monarchy - the establishment of which became the goal of the revolutionary front. The intelligentsia, as indicated above, was a small group of European-educated, secular-minded officials of the Qajar administration. The ulama and the merchants looked favourably on the type of political system recommended by the small European-educated elite only because there was no other apparent means by which domestic groups could curtail the state's arbitrary power and promote Iranian interests. In addition, there were marked ideological differences between the ulama and the intelligentsia.
An excerpt from a speech given by an important cleric on the eve of the revolution demonstrates how unfamiliar the traditional forces were with the concept and workings of European democracy:
Although we had no experience of constitutional monarchy, from what we had heard and all those who had seen it, constitutionalism brings security and prosperity to the country. Consequently, we developed some enthusiasm and yearning of our own to establish a constitutional monarchy in the country. 55
Nazim-el-Islam and Kasravi both conclude that hardly any of the ulama understood the real content and operation of constitutional monarchy. 56 This included clerics like Ayatollah Tabatabai, one of the prominent leaders of the revolution and a genuine constitutionalist. 57 Moreover, like the intelligentsia and the merchants, they lacked both a coherent plan and long term goals.
Despite this, the ulama were aware of the dangers of a parliamentary system and of the type of secularism proposed by the intelligentsia. According to Nazim-el-Islam, the most heated and crucial debate in the anjomans (secret societies formed before the revolution - see below) was that about the relative virtues of mashroteh, or constitutional form of government, and mashrueh, or government according to the sharia. The intelligentsia supported mashroteh, while the majority of the ulama were in favour of mashrueh. 58 The mashroteh versus mashrueh debate eventually became the main source of factionalism among the revolutionary forces and the principal reason why later the Majlis was unable to withstand pressure from its opponents.
Nateq and Adamiyat provide further evidence of the sharp ideological differences that existed between the ulama and the secularist forces of the intelligentsia. 59 For instance, while the intelligentsia opposed state tyranny and corruption, they also viewed the reactionary nature of clerical influence in Iran as an impediment to liberty and to the implementation of modern forms of government. Throughout 1905, `the men of the pen' frequently alluded to the incompatibility of Shiite doctrine with European liberal ideas. 60 Unfriendly gestures by the intelligentsia towards the ulama were ignored at the time but used later by the likes of Ayatollah Nuri to call constitutionalism anti-Islamic and a threat to Shiite religion. 61
The interests of the merchants, and what they hoped to gain from the Constitutional Revolution, have also been misunderstood in the literature. In the late nineteenth century, Iran was experiencing a sizeable economic boom and a nationwide rise in capital investment. Iranian merchants were heavily involved in trade with other countries in the region as well in Europe and north Africa. 62 Some merchants, such as Amin-el-Zarb, were among the richest men in the Middle East with fortunes comparable to those of European capitalists. The establishment of British and Russian banks in 1890 and, later, customs and tariff reforms, were a severe blow to the interests of such men. The majority of the merchants favoured trade with foreign countries. As a result of state policies, however, they were put at a disadvantage and became unable to compete with foreign merchants.
According to Bayat, the merchants supported the revolution because they saw in it an opportunity to promote their own interests in an environment conducive to international trade. Their interests coincided with those of the intelligentsia, Bayat argues, in that both wanted a strong state:
While the intelligentsia was attracted to and wrote about the sociopolitical ideals of the enlightenment, the merchants and the more enterprising members of the intelligentsia were fascinated with the idea of economic liberalism and Laissez Faire....one cannot but be struck by the fact that the Iranian merchants, and the intellectuals who defended their mercantile interest, while resisting foreign competition, ultimately sought not to halt the European economic penetration but to firmly control it themselves. Both the intelligentsia and the merchants realized that in order for them to ensure the sociocultural and economic development they wished for Iran, they had to restructure, or to be more accurate, to institute a new form of government that would effectively enforce the rule of law.....Many proposals and essays written in the second half of the 19th century broached the idea of strong, highly centralized government. 63
Looking back at the history of merchant--state relations, however, one can question the above claim. As we have pointed out, throughout the nineteenth century the merchants in Iran enjoyed a great deal of autonomy: they paid few or no taxes; the state's chronic financial difficulties forced it to rely on the merchants for loans in times of crisis; and, because of the particular way power was distributed in Iran, the institutionally weak Qajar state was unable systematically to enforce its rule and impose its policies on the merchants (just as it could not with other powerful groups in the country). The tobacco incident was a case in point. Thus, the weaker the central government became the more powerful and successful the merchants grew. It is not surprising that, in the 1890s, as the state increased taxes and undertook governmental reforms, the merchants joined in, and even at times instigated, nationwide protest.
Adamiyat and Nateq provide ample evidence that, from the mid-nineteenth century, merchants made two demands of the state: first, that they should be free to perform their commercial activities and, second, that they should be protected from foreign competition. When Amin-el-Zarb repeatedly asked the Qajar kings to allow merchants and commerce to function in their `natural state', 64 he was referring to the autonomy which merchants had enjoyed in their commercial activities before the events of 1890s. Merchants in Iran resented any attempt by the state to control their activities. In 1882, the state discussed the establishment of a ministry of commerce to regulate commercial affairs in Iran. The idea was quickly aborted after a nationwide campaign against it by the big merchants. The merchants, as Bayat suggests, preferred the state to adopt a protective `hands off' attitude. Thus, it seems that the merchants wanted a state with weak instruments of statehood, yet strong enough to protect them from foreign competition. At the time of the revolution, then, Iranian merchants did not fully understand the new political system they were advocating and were concerned only with finding a solution to the immediate problem - the power of the Qajar state - that they faced.
Most of the literature on the 1905-6 revolution views the Constitutional Revolution as the product of a desire by the revolutionaries to emulate the political system and states of Western Europe. In light both of the events taking place at that critical juncture in Iranian social history, and of the rise of constitutionalism in Europe, it is clear why this view predominates. Yet the events themselves show that the principal revolutionary forces - the ulama and the merchants - knew little about the workings of the constitutional system. Their advocacy of parliamentarianism was simply an immediate answer to the challenging questions posed by the state's attempts to expand its powers.
By February 1905, discontented groups in the capital, organized by the revolutionary bloc, were unified on three issues: the dismissal of prime minister Ain-el-Duala, the removal of Naus and other European officials, and an end to the arbitrary rule of the Qajar dynasty. Interestingly, blame for the injustices in Iran was directed at the `treacherous prime minister' and not at the `loving monarch'. 65 Meanwhile, throughout Iran secret anjomans (societies) were being formed as high level members of the revolutionary bloc gathered to exchange ideas and strategies. These anjomans became fora in which a sense of solidarity was established, and played a fundamental role in transforming a sporadic protest into a revolution.
Nazim-el-Islam, whose six-volume account of the revolution is considered the most important Persian primary source of the period, was the organizer of one of these anjomans. 66 His record of the day-to-day discussions in the anjoman provides a comprehensive picture of the views expressed by its members. Merchants complained about the new taxes imposed on them by the state and about how price control policies were forcing them out of business. Indeed, the high level of taxes was one of the major concerns of all the groups involved. 67 Members of the anjoman also believed that the actions of the royal family and of the corrupt prime minister had destroyed the historically holy relationship between the king and his subjects. In addition, anjoman members also frequently accused government officials of misdirecting and misinforming the shah on the affairs of the country. The good-hearted king, it was claimed, was in favour of law and order, but his counsellors were aware that their interests were better served by lawlessness. 68
In other words, there was little revolutionary rhetoric and no one favoured structural changes in the political system. The prime minister and the corrupt officials of the Qajar state were the focus of discontent: the king and the political system itself were never attacked. The principal revolutionary forces did not want a fundamental change in the system: they wanted a return to the old order, in which the state was weak and they were left to pursue their interests relatively unimpeded.
The events following the revolution bear out this assessment: once in power, these influential groups acted in a rational - that is, self-interested - manner: they strove to establish a weak state, as only a state of this sort could promote their interests.
THE MAKING OF THE WEAK STATE
The Iranian constitutional movement of the late nineteenth century was neither a grassroots nor a widespread phenomenon. Rather, it was concentrated mainly in two cities, Tehran and Tabriz. Constitutional government and Western European liberalism were notions that only a minority of intelligentsia believed in - no more than a hundred people, according to one source. 69 The views of this European-educated minority were accepted and used by the merchants and the ulama, both of whom were just as unhappy with the policies and the arbitrary power of the central government. The three formed a revolutionary front, voicing general discontent and championing nationalist causes. Their views, however, were not shared by the population at large. As the revolutionary forces quickly realized, outside Tehran and Tabriz they enjoyed no substantial popular support: the Iranian masses were attracted by the rhetoric of the constitutionalist movement but were unwilling to give the movement their full support. 70 This weak support from the Iranian periphery became particulary significant as the struggle between the pro- and anti-constitutionalist forces later intensified.
In addition, as events unfolded, the expedient nature of the triple alliance of the clergy, merchants and the intelligentsia became clear, as did the sharp ideological differences amongst the groups over the aim and direction of the revolution.
In the first months of 1906, the ulama's opposition to constitutionalism became apparent. While Tabatabai and a few other pro-constitutionalist ulama supported the rule of law and adherence to the new political system, a significant number of clerics, led by Ayatollah Nuri, began a nationwide campaign against what Nuri called Western republicanism. 71 Nuri and other anti-constitutionalist clerics used their influence in the population to discredit parliamentarianism by frequently citing its incompatibility with Shiite religion. In addition, unlike Mozafar-el-Din Shah (1896-1906), the new Qajar king, Mohammad Ali Shah, was a staunch opponent of constitutionalism and, together with other Qajar courtiers and Iranian notables, created a formidable obstacle to the nascent constitutionalist movement. Mohammad Shah and Nuri became natural allies and the anti-constitutionalist movement gradually spread throughout the country. The shah cleverly used this opportunity to postpone signing the proclamation that introduced the new constitution. 72
The biggest battle between pro- and anti-constitutionalist forces took place in the Majlis over the drafting of the supplementary law appended to the constitution. The mashrueh faction believed that there was no higher law than God. 73 The Tabatabai camp won in the end, with the help of the members of the modernizing faction. Ayatollah Nuri, however, did not surrender easily and began questioning the legitimacy of the Majlis as a legislative body. According to Nuri, the Majlis should only have authority to investigate and regulate the arbitrary actions of state officials. He also believed that the imported constitution was incompatible with Shiite doctrine. He suggested, therefore, that the mashroteh be replaced by mashrueh and, in addition, since the constitution was European, that the ulama should have the authority to make necessary alterations to it so that it conformed to the sharia. 74
Meanwhile, the reformist members of the Majlis were attempting to tackle the financial crises of the new government. In February 1906, three new reforms were proposed. There were calls, first, to raise government revenues by increasing taxation for all sectors of society regardless of their socio-economic status; second, to repossess some of the tuyul, lands historically rented to big landlords at low rates fixed over half a century earlier; and, third, to reduce courtiers' salaries and the princes' allowances. Such measures created fears among many wealthy pro-constitutionalists, weakened the popularity of the secularist members of the Majlis, and increased support for Ayatollah Nuri and his supporters. 75
Though the progressive wing of the Majlis did make some significant concessions to the ulama - it gave them veto power over the Majlis - it fought for reforms and attempted to modernize the political system. These reforms faced resistance from the old power structures in the country, just as had the earlier centralization policies of the Qajars. State reforms, begun in 1908, alarmed the ulama throughout Iran. Judicial reforms, initiated by the minister of justice, laid the foundation for a centralized and hierarchial judicial system comprising both secular and religious courts. Here, too, Ayatollah Nuri was in the forefront of opposition to judicial reforms. He presented parliamentarianism as a threat to the Islamic tradition in Iran and thus articulated an ideology for the opponents of parliamentary government whose interests were threatened by the proposed judicial and financial reforms. Annoyed by the government's reforms, the religious hierarchy frequently interfered in the new judicial system by producing their own decrees for people who sought justice from traditional judges rather than from the new state courts. 76
Tax reforms aimed at increasing state revenues became another point of friction. Every time the Majlis raised the question of increasing taxes, it faced opposition not only from the wealthy and powerful in the parliament but also from common people who equated taxes with tyranny. 77 Some members of the parliament suggested that, since Iran was an Islamic country and the constitution was based on Islamic religion, the government should consider khoms and zakat as its source of income. One member even claimed that European-style tax collection threatened the freedom and integrity of the people and was a danger to Islam! 78
The conflict between the minority pro- and the majority anti-constitutionalist forces throughout the country lasted six years. In the end, though the intelligentsia did succeed in implementing certain institutional reforms throughout Iran, the ulama and other powerful traditional forces retained a great deal of their influence. While the modernizing forces, by empowering the parliament with the exclusive right to levy taxes for treaties and loans, and by preserving and guaranteeing various freedoms, laid the foundations of a modern state, the ulama won on other critical points. For example, the king was required to preserve Shiite belief and defend Shiism; it was emphasized that societal freedom of expression should conform to Islamic values; and, finally, the Majlis would not be allowed to pass laws which the ulama considered unIslamic.
The persistent and continuing struggle in the capital between the pro- and anti-constitutional forces made it impossible for the new government to perform its duties. The struggle spread throughout the country and produced chaos and further socio-economic uncertainty for the population. By 1911, the triple alliance had disintegrated. With the withdrawal of the ulama and other pro-constitutional forces, the new political system had little chance of success in setting up and institutionalizing a parliamentary form of government. On the contrary, it led to the restoration of autocracy, and to a civil war which paved the way for the Russian occupation of Iran. The Iranian Constitutional Revolution failed to achieve its intended goals of creating a strong and effective state, characterized by justice and the rule of law. The efforts of the genuine revolutionaries were no match for the established social order and the interests of powerful groups in Iran.
CONCLUSION
The Constitutional Revolution has implications for a wide range of social scientists and students of political development. First, it questions the universality of the most prevalent model of modern revolutions of the last decade, namely Skocpol's. The Constitutional Revolution did not aim to build a strong state and, in fact, was largely a reaction to the gradual strengthening of the state. Iranian society, with its established societal and organizational arrangements, was able to react and respond as any well-functioning system would to an intrusion. Furthermore, Iranian society was used to doing without a central polity playing a fundamental role in its affairs. Thus, when it became necessary to do so, it acted rationally to oppose the creation of a highly centralized and penetrative state. As such, one can argue that the Constitutional Revolution was in fact a conservative reaction to modernization, or at least to the institutional framework of modernization. Moreover, Iranian society learned from the Constitutional Revolution that it could inhibit the work of state-builders: a valuable experience and one, perhaps, drawn on in 1979.
The Constitutional Revolution may also be of interest to development theorists, particularly students of modernization theory. By treating the state in third world societies as the main focus of analysis, (neo-)modernization theories have, by and large, assumed that societies are static and have measured social change and political development in terms of state actions. In so doing, they have obscured the dynamics of the struggle for domination in non-Western societies. 79 In examining political development in the Middle East, for example, such theories focus primarily on the state and treat society as analytically constant. They make little mention of how social forces both affect a constantly changing environment and formulate strategies designed to confront the expansion of newly emerging institutions. Indeed, sections of society may envision alternatives to the state: for example, states with radically different ideologies and institutional arrangement, or even 'non-states'.
As for the literature on the Constitutional Revolution, this paper should help with the theoretical analysis of the revolution - which, so far, has been unsatisfactory - and it should encourage a more accurate interpretation of primary sources. The events of 1905-6 remain a conundrum in the social history of Iran. For the absence of fundamental changes in the country after the revolution is particularly puzzling in light of the fact that, after all, in theory Iran had experienced a `social revolution'. This paper aims to help solve the puzzle, and to do so by showing that nineteenth-century Iran had inherent socio-economic and political features which prevented the development of European-style parliamentarianism: in combination, these features were an obstacle to constitutionalism and, ultimately, to the creation of a highly centralized, bureaucratically powerful and institutionalized state.
Mehdi Moslem
Centre for the Study of Democracy
University of Westminster
London
May 1995
Footnotes
Note 1: There is much literature on the Constitutional Revolution. The best primary sources in Persian are: Nazim-el-Islam Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian [The history of the awakening of Iranians] (Tehran, Bonyad Farhang Iran, 1967 [3 vols]); Ahmad Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran [The history of Iranian constitutionalism], (Tehran, Amir Kabir Publications, 1974 [10th ed.]); M. Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran [The history of the Iranian Constitutional Revolution], (Tehran, Entesharat-e Elmi, 1974 [7 vols; second ed.]). Among the English sources see: Edward G. Browne, The Persian Constitutional Revolution of 1905-1909, Cambridge University Press, 1910); Mongol Bayat, Iran's First Revolution (Oxford University Press, 1991); Venessa Martin, Islam and Modernism, (I.B. Tauris, 1989). Back.
Note 2: T. Skocpol, States and Social Revolution (Cambridge University Press, 1979), p. 41. Back.
Note 3: See Homa Katouzian, The Political Economy of Modern Iran (Macmillan, 1981), pp. 53-55; A. K. Lambton, Qajar Persia (Austin, University of Texas Press, 1987), pp. 299-300 and Conclusion; Ervand Abrahamian, Iran Between Two Revolutions (Princeton University Press, 1981), chs 1 & 2. Back.
Note 4: On the nature and function of modern states see: G. Poggi The State (Polity Press, 1990). Back.
Note 5: A. Sheikholeslami, `The patrimonial structure of Iranian bureaucracy in the late nineteenth century', in Iranian Studies, 1978, vol. XI, p. 227. Back.
Note 6: See Shaul Bakhash, Iran: Monarchy, Bureaucracy and Reforms under the Qajars: 1858-1896 (London, 1978). Back.
Note 7: Sheikholeslami, `The patrimonial structure ', p. 210. Back.
Note 8: For a classic work on this subject see A. K. Lambton, Land Lords and Peasants in Persia (Oxford University Press, 1958). Back.
Note 9: J. Malcom, The History of Persia (London, 1815). Back.
Note 10: Lambton, Qajar Persia, pp. 42-43. Back.
Note 11: The most important and comprehensive study of the relationship between the clergy and the state under the Qajars is H. Algar, Religion and State in Iran, 1785-1906 (University of California Press, 1969). Back.
Note 12: A. Sheikholeslami, `From religious accommodation to religious revolution, in A. Banuazizi and M. Weimer, The State, Religion and Ethnic Politics: Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan (Syracuse University Press, 1986), pp. 227-255. Back.
Note 14: Quoted in Martin, Islam and Modernism, p. 31. Back.
Note 15: On merchants in the nineteenth century see: G. Gilbar, `The big merchants and the constitutional revolution of 1906', in Asian and African Studies, 1977, XI-3, pp. 275-303; Bayat, Iran's First Revolution, pp. 44-50; Lambton, Qajar Persia, chs 1 & 2. Back.
Note 16: Gilbar, `The big merchants', p. 282. Back.
Note 17: See further: Lambton, Land Lords. Back.
Note 18: H. Katouzian, `The aridisolatic society; a model of long term social and economic development in Iran' in International Journal of Middle East Studies (hereafter IJMES), 1983, No. 15, p. 268. Back.
Note 19: Cf. M. Mann, The Sources of Social Power (Cambridge University Press, 1986), Ch. 1. Back.
Note 20: K. A. Wittfogel, Oriental Despotism (Yale University Press, 1957). Back.
Note 21: Poggi, The State, p. 22. Back.
Note 22: E. Abrahamian, `Oriental despotism: the case of Qajar Iran', in IJMES, January 1974, p. 13. Back.
Note 23: T. Skocpol, `Bringing the state back in: strategies of analysis in current research', in T. Skocpol, P. Evans, and D. Rueschemeyer (eds), Bringing the State Back In (Cambridge University Press, 1985) p. 17. Back.
Note 24: De Gobineau, Three Years in Persia, 1859. [Farsi translation: Tehran, Zabih-ullah Mansuri, 1983.] Back.
Note 25: cf C. Issawi, The Economic History of Iran: 1800-1914. (University of Chicago Press, 1971). Back.
Note 26: N. Keddie, quoted in Issawi, The Economic History, p. 54. Back.
Note 28: ibid, pp. 42-52. Back.
Note 29: The intelligentsia consisted mostly of Qajar princes and sons of Iranian notables sent abroad at the turn of the century. Back.
Note 30: Lambton, Qajar Persia, pp. 200-203. Back.
Note 31: On Amir Kabir and his reform see: F. Adamiyat, Amir Kabir va Iran [Amir Kabir and Iran] (Tehran, Kharasmi Press, 1969). Back.
Note 32: ibid., pp. 284-324. Back.
Note 33: N. Keddie, Roots of Revolution (Yale University Press, 1981), p. 53. Back.
Note 34: Abrahamian, Iran Between Two Revolutions, p. 54. Back.
Note 35: One of the best studies of the reforms of the second half of the nineteenth century is: G. Nashat, The Origins of Modern Reforms in Iran, 1870-80 (University of Illinois Press, 1982), pp. 20-21. Back.
Note 36: Algar, Religion and State, pp. 122-123. Back.
Note 37: For the life and ideas of this important figure - perhaps the most influential Iranian liberal thinker of the nineteenth century - see: H. Algar, Mirza Malkam Khan (University California Press, 1973). Back.
Note 38: Nashat, The Origins, pp. 21-25. Back.
Note 39: ibid., chs. 2-5. Back.
Note 40: Algar, Religion and State, pp. 12-14. Back.
Note 41: Nashat, The Origins, p. 52. Back.
Note 44: ibid., pp. 61-62. Back.
Note 45: Among the many figures in the intelligentsia who facilitated the alliance between the intelligentsia and the ulama were Malkam Khan and Jamal-el Din Afghani. Back.
Note 46: See Keddie, Roots of Revolution, Ch. 3. Back.
Note 47: On the tobacco incident see: N. Keddie, Religion and Rebellion in Iran: The Tobacco Protest of 1891-1892 (London, 1966). Back.
Note 48: Abrahamian, Iran Between Two Revolutions p. 73. Back.
Note 49: Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, vol. 1, pp. 154-159. Back.
Note 50: Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, vol. 2, p. 618. Back.
Note 51: Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran p. 22 & pp. 406-487. Back.
Note 52: Martin, Islam and Modernism, p. 46. Back.
Note 53: Bayat, Iran's First Revolution, p.107. Back.
Note 54: As quoted in Martin, Islam and Modernism, p.50. Back.
Note 55: Quoted in M. Milani, The Making of Iran's Islamic Revolution. (Westview Press, 1988), p. 53. Back.
Note 56: This point is made repeatedly in their accounts of the revolution (see footnote 1 for references). Back.
Note 57: Tabatabai strongly supported the introduction of a parliamentary system, even if this meant undermining the ulama's influence. An example of this stance is a statement he made to the prime minister, Ain-el-Duala, about the Edalat-Khaneh, or House of Justice, the establishment of which he had initially proposed (the function of the House of Justice would be provide refuge for the people from the injustices of the officials (see Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 2, pp. 384-385): `This (House of Justice) that we ask for will first and foremost harm us, for if people are safe and sound they will not need us and our doors will be closed.'(See: Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, p. 76, and Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 1, p. 386.) Back.
Note 58: Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 2, p. 290 & pp. 256-264. Back.
Note 59: An important book which includes valuable archival sources on this period is F. Adamiyat and H. Nateq, Afkar-e Ejtemaie va Siyasi va Eqtesadi dar Asar-e Montashernashodaye Dauran-e Qajar [Social, Political, and Economic Thought in Unpublished Documents of the Qajar Period] (Tehran, Aqah Press, 1977), pp. 47-87 & pp.94-170. Back.
Note 60: Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, pp. 39-47. Back.
Note 61: It may be, as Martin suggests, that the real reason why the ulama joined the opposition was not that which they proclaimed, namely, that the presence of foreign powers in Iran undermined Iran's Islamic values. Instead, they were concerned because their wholesale commercial activities, like those of the merchants, had suffered when customs reforms were imposed by the Qajar administration, and because the salaries and pensions on which they were dependent were in arrears. In addition, those amongst them who owned land or administered endowments were afraid that land tax might increase and that tax collection might be overseen by foreigners. (See: Martin, Islam and Modernism, p. 56.) Back.
Note 62: Issawi, The Economic History of Iran: 1800-1914, pp. 45-46. Back.
Note 63: Bayat, Iran's First Revolution, p. 51. Back.
Note 64: Adamiyat and Nateq, Afkar-e Ejtemaie va Siyasi va Eqtesadi dar Asar-e Montashernashodaye Dauran-e Qajar, p. 309. Back.
Note 65: Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 2, p. 214. Back.
Note 66: Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 1, pp. 243-273 & pp. 280-327. Back.
Note 67: ibid., pp. 253 & pp. 293-298. Back.
Note 68: ibid., pp. 129-133. Back.
Note 69: 72. Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 1, pp. 69-71. Back.
Note 70: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 3, p. 526. Back.
Note 71: Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, pp. 258-291. Back.
Note 72: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 3, pp. 476-487; Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, pp. 324-363. Back.
Note 73: Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, pp. 326-350. Back.
Note 75: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 3, pp. 484-478 & pp. 530-533; Kasravi, Tarikh-e Mashrutaye Iran, p. 487. Back.
Note 76: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 3, p. 622; Kermani, Tarikh-e Bidari-ye-Iranian, Vol. 2, pp. 261-266. Back.
Note 77: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 4, p. 854. Back.
Note 78: Malekzadeh, Tarikh-e Enghelabe Mashrutaye Iran, Vol. 6, pp. 618-619. Back.
Note 79: See L. Anderson, The State and Social Transformation in Tunisia and Libya, 1830-1980 (Princeton University Press, 1986). Back.
