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Hallmarks of Humanism:
Hygiene and Love of Homeland in Qajar Iran



FIROOZEH KASHANI-SABET




In 1908, an Iranian humanist sounded the bell of doom. Anticipating Iran's "last sigh," this writer—presumably Mu'ayyid al-Islam, the editor of the popular newspaper Habl al-Matin—railed against Russia's encroachment on Iran as well as its blatant disregard for human life. For this Iranian, the humanistic entreaties of the so-called "civilized, philanthropic governments" of the West seemed little more than empty words—a point confirmed by Russia's militaristic (and inhumane) drive south of its border. As he remarked, "In this new, bright age of humanism . . . in this age in which the protection of fellow human beings is considered a requisite of humanity . . . our northern neighbor [Russia] has sent a military expedition to our soil without any right or grounds."1 Territorial threats from Russia, however, were nothing new for Iran. Why, then, had Russia's recent advance so alarmed this writer? 1
     The answer lay in the Qajar dynasty's embrace of humanism and patriotic thinking.2 In this "bright, new age," in which Iran had celebrated nationhood and the rule of law, it had expected international recognition of its national sovereignty. Nothing proved more distasteful to this patriot than Russia's sheer disrespect for Iranians and their sacred homeland. The offensive meant that Iran, a country increasingly depicted as "sick" and on the verge of territorial and political demise, had yet to be accepted as a sovereign, "civilized" nation in the commonwealth of humanity. In short, Russia's invasion had flouted Iran's modernist ethos of humanism.3 2
     Iranians were not alone in voicing their cynicism about Europe's rejection of Middle Eastern countries from the community of humanists. Other nations expressed similar ambivalence toward the Western ideal of humanism, which like its Islamic counterpart, included a respect for human life and privileges, or humanity. In 1913, for instance, the nationalist Afghani newspaper Siraj al-Akhbar al-Afghaniyah published a cartoon mocking Europe's respect for human life. This journal is relevant to Iran, as it was published in Persian and frequently commented on Iran's political affairs.4 Moreover, the reference indicates that discussions of humanism were not limited to Iran but occurred in neighboring countries as well. In this illustration, Europe is symbolized as an attractive woman. She adjusts her hair while holding a "Book of Humanity" (kitab-i insaniyat) and pays no attention to the text. Nearby, two skeletons, referred to as "martyrs," converse with each other in a graveyard. Several signs in the graveyard memorialize groups of innocent individuals murdered for various reasons. One skeleton tells the other: "We had heard that this Europe, who holds the Book of Humanity in hand, is very just and humanitarian." The other responds: "But if millions of Muslims burn by fire in one day, no sense of humanity will be detected in them."5 Here, as in the Iranian case, there is a perceived double standard in Europe's respect for humanity. This cartoon suggests that respect for human life—a tenet of modern humanism—did not always pertain to Muslims in international politics. 3
     As a concept, "Iranian humanism" may seem an oxymoron. The term forges a link with the intellectual tradition of Western philosophy and Enlightenment thought. To make this connection, however, is not to deny the "Iranian" interpretation (and reconfiguration) of these ideas. Qajar thinkers often grafted new meanings onto Western scholarship. Owing its emergence to the distinct historical circumstances of nineteenth-century Qajar society, Iranian humanism kindled an interest in the study of individuals, culture, and the natural world. Though influenced by Enlightenment and Positivist models, Qajar intellectuals created a unique vocabulary of humanism that derived also from their country's specific experiences, especially its religion and its sociopolitical climate.6 They stressed fields such as hygiene, medicine, and geography in their desire to learn about themselves and their evolving society. 4
     Alongside Western influences, strong Islamic roots existed for Iran's embrace of humanism. During the Buyid period (945–1055 CE), for instance, Islam underwent a cultural and philosophical efflorescence that endorsed individualism, as well as the pursuit of literature and science. As Joel Kramer explains, Buyid humanists "were motivated by a shared commitment to reason and mutual interest in the sciences of the ancients."7 Yet they also conceived of the kinship of humankind and pursued a general love of humanity (insaniyya).8 This concept, insaniyya, had myriad meanings. Kramer goes on, "It is the quality men share in common, or human nature; it also signifies being truly human, in the sense of realizing the end or perfection of man qua man, often synonymous with the exercise of reason."9 These converging trends forged a distinct expression of Islamic humanism, but one that would undergo hermeneutic revisions in varying contexts. To historians of Iran, the tenth and eleventh centuries become especially relevant, as it was during this interval that Islam experienced an Iranian revival, benefiting from the literary output of the Persian poet Firdawsi (d. ca. 1020 CE), and the scientific contributions of the renowned physician Ibn Sina (d. 1037).10 5
     Modern Iranian humanism, though drawing on these myriad sources, diverged from its medieval counterpart. Nor was the Qajar interest in studying the individual wedded exclusively to European thought. In seeking to acquire the cachets of civilization (tamaddun) and technological advancement—or, in other words, modernity—Qajar statesmen thus advocated the pursuit of humanistic learning and culture (aynilm va adab), which entailed not just the "belles-lettres" but also a scientific literacy aimed at a richer understanding of the physical environment.11 Much of this interest in humanistic scholarship is chronicled in the newly founded publications of the Qajar period.12 It is worth noting, for instance, that a newspaper called Adab was founded in 1898 in order "to promote knowledge and civilization" and to expound on humanistic disciplines such as "philosophy, logic, mathematics, physics, and medicine." Like the editor of Adab, Mirza Sadiq Khan Adib al-Mamalik, many other Iranian intellectuals looked for creative ways to address Iran's tectonic shifts, whether in the political or cultural sphere, and believed firmly in the possibility of progress. More than any other process, they stressed the mastery of humanistic scholarship in facilitating Iran's move toward social betterment.13 6
     In the Qajar political discourse, the themes of humanism and civilization often went hand in hand. Humanism became the catchphrase for pursuing progressive reforms aimed at restoring what was seen as Iran's pride and former grandeur. For instance, in the opening passage of his famous work, Sih Maktub ("Three Treatises"), composed in the late nineteenth century, Mirza Aqa Khan Kirmani (d. 1897) discussed humanism in the context of civilization and nationhood. As he contended, "refinement of the manners and habits of humanism and the promotion of humanity in a tribe or a nation" are among the requisites of civilization, which means "a nation saving itself from hardship and savagery." By extension, a patriot was "a person who for the advancement of the nation and civilization" would sacrifice himself and his means of livelihood.14 For Kirmani—a controversial intellectual with Babi leanings who is remembered as much for his dislike of the Arabs as for his glorification of Iran's pre-Islamic imperial past—humanism became one of the cornerstones of Iranian civilization and an expression of its modern patriotic political consciousness. Other sources also expounded on the themes of humanism and civilization. In 1894, one of the semi-official Qajar newspapers, Nasiri, featured several essays on these subjects. One piece discussed the superiority of human beings over other creatures, stressing that education is "one of the characteristics of humanism [insaniyat]," since human beings, unlike other creatures, could better themselves through education.15 7
     The use of the term "humanism" (adamiyat, insaniyat) occurred most frequently in the last decades of the nineteenth century and the early years of the twentieth, usually in an attempt to increase national sentiment and patriotic loyalty toward the homeland (vatan). It is therefore unsurprising that in discussions of homeland, vatan often became associated with humanity itself. As one writer explained in 1900, "Vatan is a piece of land on which a person is born and is his place of growth and existence . . . From vatan comes his speech, knowledge, and culture [aynilm va adab] . . . and outside of vatan there is nothing that human beings can imagine . . . Thus vatan is none other than a part of one's own person."16 Homeland thus became the source of humanity as well as the fount of cultural humanism and enlightenment. 8
     There was not always a stark differentiation in the use of the terms adamiyat and insaniyat to mean humanism, which could alternately connote either "humanistic," in the sense of promoting rational thought and empiricism through literary and scientific pursuits to achieve human betterment, or "humanitarian," in the altruistic sense of protecting and promoting humanity or human life, dignity, and privileges.17 These concepts circulated rather widely among the Qajar literati. In 1906, a newspaper called "Humanism," Adamiyat, began publication in Tehran. It was edited by Aqa Mirza aynAbd al-Muttalib Yazdi, who supported the constitutional movement and participated in a secret society by the same name.18 In its second issue, for instance, Adamiyat considered the reasons why the "inhabitants of the East" (ahali-yi sharq) had been "banned from the realm of humanity and rejected from the league of humanism."19 Like many other journalists of the period, its editor advocated the pursuit of knowledge as a means to move Iran closer to the community of humanists. Another newspaper, Insaniyat, also emerged in Tehran in 1907 CE/1325 AH, which, according to the famous historian of the Iranian Constitutional Revolution, E. G. Browne, "appeared to have been the organ of the Anjuman [society] of the same name."20 Other works also addressed the theme of humanism, focusing on education, the political well-being of the country, hygiene, or the creation of a civilized and thriving national community.21 9
     Humanistic philosophy not only spurred scientific pursuits and colored political rhetoric, it also influenced Qajar literary and artistic trends. Qajar art often drew its inspiration from human forms, a shift from the traditional religious art of Islam. While this tendency revealed the bias of royal patrons, it had other longstanding philosophical roots. Humanism, with its increasing emphasis on secular values, became especially prominent in the realm of art. Many Qajar paintings thus rejected religious ideas, embracing instead the more profane and secular world of the individual and the state. Human beings became popular subjects of study in relation to the natural world—in the realms of both aesthetics and science—precisely because they exemplified temporal authority and cultural enlightenment. Luxury and extravagance were witnessed in the use of rich, earthy colors in paintings, as well as in the selection of subjects and objects such as kings, coronets, swords, necklaces, and elaborate costumes. Similarly, paintings of wars and other dramatizations of society were conveyed in human terms in an effort to recreate and idealize the earthly setting of the individual. The human body itself became a landscape, even inviting painters to use partial nudity in the depiction of women.22 In literary circles, humanism inspired a rereading of classical Persian works and a desire to purify the Persian language.23 Originating in a milieu of innovation and crisis, Iranian humanism thus embraced material changes in Qajar society and inspired a wide array of intellectual responses to social transformations. 10
     Two salient themes of Iranian humanism concerned patriotism (hubb-i vatan) and hygiene (hifz al-sihhat). Though ostensibly unrelated, these subjects blended seamlessly in discussions of Qajar life. If patriotism involved respect for the national soil, or homeland, it also included an interest in human beings and the maintenance of a clean and healthy society. Nationhood—the quintessential symbol of modernity—could not be wholly achieved without other accoutrements of civilization such as humanism and hygiene. In embracing nationalism, Iranians advanced humanistic values to forge an ideal patriotic society and to create a healthy and enduring national community. 11
     Scholars in other fields have also written on the relevance of sanitation and disease control to the processes of modernity and nationalism, yet the role of humanism has not been adequately amplified in many of these works. This has resulted less because of its irrelevance and more because of the predominant scholarly desire to trace the etiology of particular epidemics within an immediate medical or social setting.24 Yet, as the creation and proceedings of the International Sanitary Conferences have shown, the themes of humanism, civilization, and hygiene were not popular just in Qajar Iran but also in various European countries.25 In documenting Iran's efforts to promote hygiene, scholarship, and nationalism, I argue that humanism served as a philosophical pivot for hygienic and scholastic reforms at a time when many countries such as Iran strove to remain politically viable. I also regard humanism as an underlying cause for the advancement of hygiene and modernity in Iran and elsewhere.26 12


The social conditions of Qajar Iran sharpened interest in humanism and hygiene. In particular, the frequent outbreak of disease, which posed an ostensible threat to human life, spurred discussion of and innovation in modes of public sanitation. In 1831, for instance, as Iran was attempting to recover from its territorial losses to Russia, a serious bubonic plague epidemic spread throughout the capital—an outbreak that exacerbated the country's already difficult social conditions in the aftermath of the Russo-Persian War.27 The plague of 1831 was neither the first nor the last outbreak of the disease in Iran. In 1851, the first official Qajar gazette, Ruznamah-i Vaqayiayn Ittifaqiyah, reported that in an effort to contain epidemics of plague and other diseases, state officials were patrolling the capital city, Tehran, and ordering residents to clean up their garbage to limit the spread of illness. Yet this source also confirmed little success and organization in the administration of these activities.28 Plague erupted again a short time later, this time in Rasht, Gilan, threatening the commercial and social order of that city.29 In June 1877, for instance, deaths from plague in Rasht were estimated at "between 7 and 10 a day."30 In describing the reaction to plague in Rasht, the Austrian ambassador to Tehran commented that "the emotion of the inhabitants is at its height, misery is terrible, the site of religious processions traversing the city fills with anguish the spirits of the survivors."31 The proceedings of the Board of Health in Tehran also reported suspected cases of plague in Kermanshah and Bushehr, both regions contiguous with the Ottoman Empire, which itself was contending with outbreaks of plague in Baghdad.32 Surgeon-Major Colvill, who investigated the plague in Mesopotamia for the British government in the 1870s, reported in April 1876 "that in every town and village between this and the Persian Gulf people are dying from this disease."33 13



 
From the newspaper Siraj al-Akhbar al-Afghaniyah, 1913. The original is held in Princeton University's Near Eastern Collection.
 


     Cholera, diphtheria, and smallpox also appeared at different times, making disease control a priority for Qajar society.34 A memorandum from the March 1877 meeting of the Board of Health in Tehran reported the spread of smallpox to Persian Kurdistan, as well as several deaths from diphtheria.35 In July 1879, a Persian source stated that approximately 1,825 deaths had occurred in a one-month period of illnesses, ranging from dysentery and vomiting to diphtheria and smallpox.36 The outbreak of plague and other epidemics caused widespread public concern and generated numerous works on medicine and related subjects.37 14
     Diseases, it seemed, had become a commonplace of Qajar life—a reality that concerned not just Iranians but also European countries engaged in regular contact with Iran and other Middle Eastern societies because of trade and advances in communications. It was therefore unsurprising that a series of International Sanitary Conferences would be held to address epidemics and sanitation in the second half of the nineteenth century, since promoting health and hygiene was not unique to nineteenth-century Iran but, rather, a subject of broad international concern. In 1851, when the first such conference was convened in Paris, the themes of hygiene and humanism undergirded discussions of medicine and disease management. The conference was organized in an effort "to regulate in a systematic manner the quarantines and lazarettos" along the coast of Mediterranean countries. But the gathering also had a broader goal: to advance humanity through international cooperation and a "civilized" dialogue about hygiene and disease control. One participant declared, "hygiene is civilization. Without hygiene, civilization would only be a true social travesty."38 In 1866, when the next conference opened in Constantinople, aynAli Pasha, the Ottoman minister of foreign affairs, reiterated similar sentiments: "This reunion," he declared, "is an incontestable proof of the immense step that civilization has taken in our century. Human fraternity, this fundamental law of all progress, gains more and more by the mutual guarantees that the civilized nations do not cease to give themselves. And what greater guarantee could we have offered the whole of humanity than the one we have before our eyes, in other words, to see governments that work toward civilization converge . . . to research and adopt measures that preserve against a disaster that decimates the human genre."39 Although Iran was absent from the 1851 sanitary conference in Paris, it maintained representatives at the conferences of 1866 and 1874, thus participating in the larger humanitarian drive to bring hygiene to an international public. 15
     In the second half of the nineteenth century, in response to the growing interest in public health, Dr. Tholozan, the physician of Nasir al-Din Shah (r. 1848–1896), and others had helped to establish a Sanitary Council (Majlis-i Hafiz al-Sihhat) as well as a quarantine service to promote sanitation.40 In 1874, the Sanitary Council in Tehran was under the presidency of the minister of Public Instruction, Iayntizad al-Saltanah. Physicians from the British and Russian legations served as advisers to the council, even though "they did not have a voice" in the deliberations.41 During this time, although Iran had attempted to institute quarantines in several instances to limit the spread of disease, it was not always successful in its efforts. In 1877, for instance, in a meeting of the Board of Health in Tehran, Iayntizad al-Saltanah was quoted as saying that "the Persian Government had no experience of quarantine," but it had attempted to set up a quarantine the previous year and strove to take steps to improve its quarantine measures for the future.42 16
     Other organizations also emerged to assist with disease control and sanitation. In Isfahan, Persian physicians instituted a forum called the Anjuman-i Pizishkan-i Isfahan (the Society of Physicians of Isfahan) to stress hygiene and to enhance the performance of their medical duties. In 1877, when plague erupted in Mesopotamia and its borderlands with Iran, Zill al-Sultan, the governor of Isfahan, had ordered the creation of this organization to improve urban sanitation. Although it ceased functioning after one year, the society resumed its sessions in 1879, when smallpox and diphtheria broke out in Isfahan.43 Mirza Taqi Khan Hakimbashi headed the society and proposed certain requirements for doctors and surgeons involved with its activities. The provisions stipulated that at the start of every week, doctors provide a report to the head of the society on the diseases observed during that period. If the diseases treated were of an epidemic nature, doctors were asked to provide more detailed observations, including the sex and general age of their patients, as well as relevant symptoms.44 The emphasis on generating and gathering detailed medical information showed an interest in scientific empiricism and a regard for medicine as an objective science. It also illustrated a desire to control and subject to public scrutiny medical officers and establishments.45 17
     As new institutions appeared to improve public sanitation, newspapers continued to drum the theme of hygiene in their pages both as a social necessity and as a symbol of humanism and civilization. Ruznamah-i aynIlmi, a nineteenth-century Qajar newspaper dedicated to promoting science, reported on the activities of the technical college, Dar al-Funun, founded in 1851, and the Sanitary Council. In one issue, the journal discussed the Sanitary Council's desire to regulate the flow and use of drugs by having them tested first for safety by a chemistry and physics teacher at the Dar al-Funun named Mirza Kazim, before making them publicly available.46 Another essay addressed the successes of a local hospital in treating complex illnesses. In fact, Iayntizad al-Saltanah as well as members of the council had inspected the hospital, which demonstrates their desire to scrutinize and observe public medical facilities and to promote empiricism, objectivity, and scientific rigor in these disciplines.47 Medical discussions such as these tended to reflect optimism and a belief in the ability of modern science to conquer human illnesses, as new information and methodologies directed the transition from traditional to modern medicine in Iran. Moreover, the emphasis on inspection and observation highlighted the desire to make the practice of medicine more scientific and accountable to public surveillance and debate.48 18
     The prevalence of epidemics correlated with the low level of public hygiene in Iran. These conditions impelled Qajar thinkers to expound on the idea of cleanliness, medicine, hygiene, and physical fitness in their works. In 1880, Farhang—a Persian journal published in Isfahan—ran a regular feature entitled "Hygiene and the Cleaning of Cities." Its writer, Mirza Taqi Khan, discussed numerous issues, such as the spread of disease through open ditches as well as the proliferation of illnesses because of faulty sewage systems.49 Moreover, he pointed out that the failure to remove household garbage from the streets on a regular basis heightened unsanitary conditions, particularly if rainfall added to waste putrefaction.50 Other Qajar sources discussed further aspects of public health and sanitation. Ittilaayn, another important nineteenth-century journal, defined hygiene as the collective effort among the inhabitants of every city to eliminate disease through an emphasis on cleanliness (nizafat). Although personal habits in matters of dress, drinking, and home life contributed to forging a sanitary society, they did not replace the need to promote cleanliness in the broader societal context. This source identified certain causes for the persistence of unsanitary conditions in Iran, which facilitated the spread of epidemics such as smallpox—an illness with which Iran had grappled. These causes included the following: sickness or overwork in communal labor, intemperance in drinking, the lack of cisterns for eliminating waste and disorganization in the maintenance of such sewage systems, inattention to sanitation in the cities, and a dearth of water, especially potable water. The absence of effective municipal offices responsible for providing such services exacerbated social hardships, making living conditions even more trying for Qajar subjects.51 19
     Success in combating disease, however, remained fleeting despite the creation of a hygiene council and other organs. In the 1890s, Malik al-Muvarrikhin, a member of the Qajar elite, observed that "the streets of the city [Tehran] are very ruined and very dirty." Indeed, he claimed that the public roads were "dustbins for the homes" of the capital—a situation heightening unsanitary conditions and leading to the proliferation of illnesses throughout the city. According to him, Tehran's filthy streets were "the cause of air pollution and disease."52 Despite the fact that Tehran had been subjected to renovation and expansion under Nasir al-Din Shah just decades earlier, the city's material setting required further attention and improvement. 20
     Because of its practical significance, other sources continued to explore the theme of hygiene as a way of expounding on social problems. A treatise from the early Muzaffari period (1896–1907) stressed the state's responsibility in upholding antiseptic conditions. Its writer, Khan-i Khanan, contended, "The necessities of life include hygiene . . . [and] just as the state must make efforts to protect [the country's] security [hifz-i amniyat], it is also obligatory to pursue hygiene."53 The attention to hygiene reflected an interest not just in improving social services but a desire to do so within the political structure. If the circle of justice—a political concept of Persian governance that considered the ruler and society working in cooperation to ensure the prevailing of a fair and righteous administration—had entailed the preservation of religion, it now also included support for community sanitation projects. This author also emphasized the Islamic injunctions to keep clean in an effort to promote public morality and social policing. For instance, Khan-i Khanan argued that the police needed to regulate the amount of time and money that people spent in coffeehouses because of their potential to cause moral depravity. He also considered gambling and the offering of alcoholic beverages to students illicit activities—actions forbidden in the Qur'an but that apparently existed in Qajar society.54 Hygiene thus evolved as an expression not just of Qajar support for patriotism and cleanliness but also of morality. 21
     For hygiene was a subject both personal and social, both private and public. The social perspective of hygiene took account of the country's unsanitary conditions, while its personal dimension concerned the human anatomy.55 Hygiene thus became a way to conquer the human body—and, by extension, human society—through its emphasis on health, cleanliness, and the elimination of disease. Human empowerment might be attained if only people could comprehend their bodies and promote health through an understanding of nature and biology. That understanding could subsequently be applied to political institutions in order to promote social well-being. As one journalist commented, "Hygiene has illustrated the conditions of health and the provisions . . . that provide the endurance and continuation of life."56 This celebration of life offered another optimistic assurance of Iranian humanism and modernity. Rigorous attention to hygiene not only promised a long and fulfilling existence, it professed an ideal life—whether personal or political—in which the need for healers and drugs might eventually be obviated.57 By suggesting the possibility of creating an ideal society, it also gave a modernist interpretation to the concept of the perfect human being (insan-i kamil), an Islamic notion presuming the dominant position held by man in creation.58 22


In 1898, a prominent intellectual, Mirza Husayn Khan, Zuka' al-Mulk wrote, "Science and literature . . . are the pillars of humanism and the bases of civilization."59 For him, the realization of human evolution and betterment rested in knowledge. Proficiency in the arts and sciences (adab)—or, in other words, humanistic endeavors—would allow Iran to strengthen its pillars of society and governance and thus restore its historical grandeur. Moreover, such knowledge would bring about the eventual reduction of illness and the spread of hygiene, not to mention the realization of the ideal man. To demonstrate Iranians' proclivity for the salutary virtues of humanism and scientific learning—as well as Iran's ability to become modern and "civilized"—Zuka' al-Mulk's newspaper, Tarbiyat, stressed the "scientific talent of Iranians," claiming that they "were and are the fountain" of scholarship in these disciplines.60 23
     In addition to such grandstanding, Tarbiyat promoted the sciences by instituting a feature in the form of a discussion with Nayyir al-Mulk, Iran's minister of sciences. The column served to raise public literacy in the sciences and included information on subjects as diverse as electricity, the ozone, and the temperature of the sun. To popularize the study of scientific fields, this publication even advertised the sale of relevant works in French at a local home in Qazvin.61 The store of scientific knowledge, it was hoped, would help Iran understand its pathology of misrule in its attempt to regain stature among modern, "civilized" nations.62 24
     Along with explanations of fields such as geography and astronomy, this journal regularly published articles on diseases and medicine—a scientific discipline concerned with the human anatomy and the natural world. Medicine gained prominence not just because of its historical relevance but also because of its ability to offer treatments for prolonging and improving the quality of human life. The appeal of medicine and physiology, moreover, reinforced the Qajar fascination with humanistic learning. As Zuka' al-Mulk explained, "For human beings the proper and healthy mode of living depends upon knowledge, from stone-cutting, to woodwork . . . to medicine . . . [which is] the axis of well-being" and thus a science indispensable for every individual.63 To raise the public medical literacy level, Zuka' al-Mulk printed numerous essays on diseases. Two such discussions concerned diphtheria and cancer. Contending that diphtheria was a contagion that had existed for a long time under different names, the paper proposed various hypotheses for its dissemination. Tarbiyat even published a biography of Louis Pasteur to foster interest in disease control.64 As new schools developed during the reign of Muzaffar al-Din Shah (1896–1907), there would be a more marked intellectual distinction between the fields of medicine and hygiene, which, though nuanced and different in many respects, were sometimes lumped together. In 1900, the newly founded Luqmaniyah school, for instance, had two separate classes for hygiene and medicine.65 25
     To encourage the proper maintenance and knowledge of the human body, other periodicals carried regular features on public hygiene or related fields such as physiology.66 In stressing the need to keep the human physique healthy, Nawruz, a journal devoted to culture and science, printed a column on the necessity of exercise for "nurturing and improving the [human] spirit and body." By keeping the body robust, exercise enabled people to take full advantage of their lives.67 The institutionalization of exercise as a palliative to physical decline would become a resounding theme of Pahlavi Iran when exercise became a regular activity of youth organizations. Healthy citizens, it was believed, would better promote the well-being of the nation-state as fully productive members of the national community. Thus physiology and hygiene—two distinct branches of scientific knowledge and two subjects intimately connected to the human anatomy—became popular topics of research. 26
     Explanations of the human anatomy often centered on the male physique. There were, however, exceptions. One essay, for instance, focused attention on the female anatomy by commenting on morning sickness in pregnant women. This source even offered a purported cure consisting of cocoa and distilled water.68 Another piece, addressed primarily to mothers and children's nurses, cautioned the caretakers against prescribing their own herbal cures for common childhood discomforts or illnesses. Lactating mothers were also encouraged to breastfeed their newborns, as "the best and healthiest milk is the mother's milk." In fact, women who decided against breastfeeding were regarded as negligent, not to mention more susceptible to uterine and breast cancers.69 It is not surprising that these essays focused on women's reproductive (that is, mothering) function—the one physiological difference that emphasized the importance of the female anatomy.70 Still, the prototypical human body remained the male form in physiological discussions. 27



 
From the Shikufah newspaper, no. 10 (14 Jumada al-Thani 1333/April 29, 1915): 4. The original is held in Princeton University's Near East Collection.
 


     The fields of medicine, physiology, and hygiene, as Zuka' al-Mulk observed, required the acquisition of a specialized vocabulary.71 The new language slowly found its way into the humanistic discourse of Qajar political life, which was evolving simultaneously in the same intellectual milieu. In rethinking Qajar society, many nineteenth-century Iranian literati looked to science in their search to find solutions for the country's social and political ailments. Many intellectuals adopted the Enlightenment ethos of Europe and became enthralled with the idea of "natural laws," whether in discussions of the environment or society.72 It was widely believed that progress would ensue because of the identification and application of natural laws to human societies. Just as geography located the natural laws of the environment, medicine identified the natural laws of the human anatomy. In their veneration of modern science, Qajar intellectuals sought to uncover the inherent natural mechanisms of human beings and their environment in order to attain (and assure) societal progress and cultural advancement—a touchstone measured increasingly in national terms. 28
     Humanism, which encouraged understanding of the human body, also influenced the rethinking of political governance in Iran. The pursuit of biological knowledge went hand in hand with the development of ideas of individualism in Qajar political philosophy. In 1879, Farhang, a newspaper published in Isfahan under the authority of its governor, Zill al-Sultan, a half-brother and political rival of the future shah, Muzaffar al-Din, had expounded on such themes in a discussion of freedom and "natural rights" (huquq-i tabiayniyya). Considered one of the bases of freedom, the article had explained that natural rights "are equal for all human beings, and include the protection of one's person, property, and peace."73 Such recognition of a person's prerogatives in society manifested the increasingly important role individuals would have vis-à-vis the Iranian state. Yet the journal was careful not to endorse boundless individualism, viewing it instead as a political vice and a source of social anarchy and turmoil.74 Iranian humanism, though upholding limited personal rights and liberties, eschewed the notion of state subordination to the individual. Rather, the individual existed to support and ensure the well-being of society and increasingly of the nation.75 Still, the notion of making the government accountable to its citizenry gained currency in the second half of the nineteenth century—another manifestation of the influence of humanism on Qajar political philosophy. This idea would be reflected in other political writings of the Qajar period. In 1870, Mirza Yusuf Khan, Mustashar al-Dawlah wrote his influential work Yak Kalimah, meaning "one word," in which he argued that Iran's betterment could be realized if only one word—law—prevailed in the country. Mustashar al-Dawlah, who was in contact with Mirza Malkum Khan, further defended the precepts of the French constitution, including the rights of men, by referring to Qur'anic verses and traditions, or hadith.76 Yak Kalimah was published, advertised, and put on sale in 1907, when discussions of humanism and the role of individuals within the state were becoming rampant.77 29
     As works such as Yak Kalimah were circulated, the need for state recognition and protection of individual rights gained currency in the late Qajar period. This trend was evidenced in the political activity surrounding the creation of the Iranian constitution, which one activist described as a means of promoting the precepts of "culture and humanism" (adab va insaniyat).78 Because of the faith in—and likelihood of—human progress, the individual became an apt representation for the state. Governments and states needed to emulate human beings in their pursuit of social progress, and humanistic learning could bring societies closer to this ideal of cultural enlightenment. In arguing for the cooperation of the citizenry and the state, for instance, Zuka' al-Mulk remarked that "a citizenry without a government resembles a body without a soul."79 The body politic thus became a personification of the human body. The perceived ability to heal the human body of hitherto-destructive diseases with the help of medical and biological knowledge offered positive proof of social advancement. Similarly, intellectuals could cure the body politic of its debilitating ills by applying scientific techniques to social problems. Optimism thus pervaded discussions of nineteenth-century science and humanism.80 Just as advances in modern medicine seemed to prolong human life, improvements in the political arena could extend the country's lifespan. It was not entirely surprising that intellectuals isolated social ills and proffered political prescriptions by adopting an empirical (and medical) posture. 30


The high rate of epidemic outbreaks as well as the intellectual emphasis on the pursuit of sciences (aynulum) encouraged the use of medical metaphors and disease analogies in the Qajar political discourse. At the same time that Iran strove to subdue diseases such as smallpox and plague, the country found itself grappling with metaphorical "ills" such as financial insolvency and political disarray. Pestilence became a familiar image in descriptions of Qajar politics and society.81 The outspoken statesman Mirza Malkum Khan, for instance, frequently discussed the "pains" (dard) of Iran when dispensing his social commentaries.82 31
     Hygiene as a political doctrine had already gained prominence in treatises submitted to the Qajar court. One such work, written in two parts, not only commented on the human anatomy but extended the analogy of bodily health and hygiene to argue for the necessity of monarchy as the most healthful form of government for Iran. The first treatise, labeled simply "Hygiene," discussed various diseases and the use of drugs and herbs in curing those ailments. The introduction to this volume, however, revealed the author's twofold intentions. In this work, Musa bin aynAli Riza Savuji—a scholar with some access to the Qajar elite—emphasized the necessity of hygiene because of its utility in maintaining the monarch's health. A healthy ruler, in turn, reinforced the image of a strong, prosperous society and citizenry.83 Savuji remarked, "The king is tantamount to the [human] heart, and the heart of the sultan . . . produces the outpouring of bounty to the body, which is tantamount to the country [mamlikat] . . . [I]f any calamity befalls the heart, the affairs of the country will descend into destruction."84 Thus, Savuji concluded, "the protection of the heart [that is, the sultan] is more imperative than the rest of the body." A healthy sultan could avert political calamity and ensure the proper management of his state, and it was therefore incumbent upon the country's doctors to preserve the health of the king. Such concerns became pronounced because Qajar monarchs—though a rank above the rest of the population—nonetheless suffered like ordinary citizens from common maladies. 32
     In this context, hygiene (hifz al-sihhat) consisted of two distinct components: the protection of the ruler's physical body as well as the protection of the subjects and the body politic. To address the myriad meanings of hygiene, Savuji divided his discussion into two separate treatises, one with a distinctly political agenda, entitled "The Politics of Civilization."85 In this work, hygiene connoted the proper political conduct of the monarch and his ministers—the traditional actors in the circle of justice—for securing the well-being of the state. The specific use of the phrase hifz-i sihhat to refer not just to medical issues but to political concerns as well showed the explicit connection between hygiene and politics in the Qajar intellectual discourse. 33
     Aside from its political relevance, the idea of hygiene and cleanliness had strong precedents in Islamic literature. The injunctions of wudu (ablution) and qusl (ritual washing) equate the act of cleansing and of cleanliness with religious purity.86 The Qur'an notes: "Truly Allah loveth those who turn unto Him, and loveth those who have a care for cleanness."87 Observance of personal cleanliness was obligatory and divine, since "all worldly and otherworldly duties are dependent upon hygiene," and each person maintained an individual responsibility to uphold his bodily health and cleanliness. For practical and religious purposes, then, "the reasonable, cautious human being must work as much as possible to protect his body."88 34
     By linking hygiene to people's otherworldly duties, intellectuals also maneuvered around another thorny issue: the purported incompatibility of Islam with modern science. In a famous exchange with Ernest Renan, for instance, the controversial figure Jamal al-Din "Afghani" had remarked that "the Muslim religion has tried to stifle science and stop its progress," but Afghani was also quick to point out that the Arabs had "rekindled the extinguished sciences, developed them and [given] them a brilliance they had never had." This evidence, it was hoped, would again "prove" the Muslims' "taste for science."89 Hygiene—a branch of science and humanistic learning—could forge a link between Islam, politics, and modern scholarship with its stress on cleanliness, life, and the human anatomy. 35


The debate on hygiene, mingled with the political transformations occurring in Qajar society, brought changes in perceptions and definitions of the country. Increasingly, intellectuals referred to their country as "homeland" (vatan) and to their commonwealth as "nation" (millat).90 A territorial entity, vatan was regarded as the progenitor of Iranian society and the mainstay of the emerging nation. One journalist defined the concept of homeland: "Vatan is the place where a person is born and lives. Now, Iran is our homeland and our home, and in protecting it, it is our duty that we do not withhold our life, money, inhabitants, or wife and family." For this was the "same Iran whose knowledge, arts, and civilization would dazzle the inhabitants of the West."91 Although Iran had once been a veritable "rose garden on earth," it no longer boasted its former grandeur. As this patriot asked ruefully, "Why was the Caucasus, which was a large part of Iran, separated [from it]? And why did Herat, which was a greater part of our homeland, fall to the Afghanis?"92 If this patriot did not have all the answers, he did at least identify the need to promote education and the sciences through the establishment of schools and other humanistic endeavors as a way to restore Iranian civilization and eminence.93 36
     Others pursued hygiene as an expression of patriotism and appropriated medical terminology to cleanse and cure their homeland. One patriotic journalist contended, "Many of our people will suffer throughout the years unless there is hygiene in the country and until we understand its methods. And, of course, as our population declines, so too will our advancements."94 On a literal level, hygiene accentuated the need to promote public sanitation and bodily health; on a political level, hygiene underscored the need to keep the homeland flourishing. In seeking remedies, Iran found itself slowly shifting toward a new setting—a modern environment that relied on scientific methods and solutions as well as innovative political structures to relieve the country's various ills, whether social or political. 37
     Motivated in part by territorial anxieties, which played an important role in giving the country its geographic shape, the birth of the Iranian nation also took place because of social and political exigencies. From 1804 until 1905, for instance, Iran lost several outlying provinces through wars, treaties, or boundary delimitation efforts, including territories in the Caucasus and along its eastern boundary.95 Faced with military, fiscal, and social troubles, Iranians searched for creative ways to fight their crisis of modernity. Many intellectuals promoted humanism in their discussions of progress and civilization. If modern empires—many of which also considered themselves "civilized" nations—boasted of railroads, steamboats, schools, and public hygiene, then Iran needed to procure similar articles of modernity to alter and refine definitions of itself and be counted among the community of humanists. These acquisitions included innovative institutions as well as the invention of supporting nationalist polemics.96 Both of these processes owed much to the humanistic ethos of the late Qajar years. 38
     Iran's transition to nationhood, then, occurred in the midst of these simultaneous transformations and, in part, because of these concomitant technological, social, and scientific developments. This is not to suggest that Iranian humanism or nationhood emerged through a process of blind imitation or exclusively in a reactionary guise. On the contrary, the discourse on homeland expressly stressed the significance of the indigenous environment in forging patriotism. Still, there existed a desire to adopt and adapt alternative, non-indigenous structures to propel Iran toward nationhood—a move seen in Iran's struggle to create a parliament and to write a constitution. Though plagued by various afflictions, Iran slowly appropriated the lineaments of modernity and nationhood in attempting to eliminate its figurative diseases. The Constitutional Revolution of 1906 became a watershed in Iranian history precisely because Iranians finally succeeded in obtaining some of the tokens of humanism that they had been discussing for decades. Even if the parliament (Majlis)—Iran's political hospital—could not cure all the nation's mal- adies, it could at least serve as a starting point for launching Iran's revitalization. 39
     Nowhere was the unification of these themes seen as pointedly as during the Constitutional Revolution.97 Many newspapers—the latest medium of intellectual debate in Iran—promoted revitalization assiduously.98 One publication even labeled newspapers the "prescription pad" (nuskhih) of the nation, since they identified the ills harming the homeland.99 Why did the issues of hygiene and humanism appear at the forefront of patriotic debate? If Iran strove to project an image of political vigor, particularly at a time of declining fortunes, then the country's material conditions needed to reflect the health of the homeland. The nation's organization of and control over its sanitation methods mirrored its authority over other areas, such as its finances and frontiers. Aside from the material need to eliminate disease, cleanliness and hygiene became symbols of national well-being and civilization. However, in order to understand and spread the rules of hygiene, it was first necessary to pursue humanistic disciplines and to cultivate a belief in the individual. The promotion of sanitation then emerged not just as a necessary social projectbut as a resounding feature of nationalist polemic, Iranian modernity, and humanism. 40
     The call for humanism and hygiene played nicely into the hands of Iranian patriots, who had been actively advancing nationalist polemics in their writings. For decades, Qajar statesmen had been distressed over the presence of foreigners in Iran and the country's possible territorial obliteration. Their focus on the Iranian homeland inspired an assortment of patriotic works aimed at defending the country. Humanism thus developed alongside another prominent idea among the Qajar literati: love of homeland, or hubb-i vatan. Qajar patriots advocated the ideas of humanism and hygiene because adherence to these beliefs, they hoped, would help create the civilized, progressive, and above all healthy homeland that many desired. 41
     The rights of individuals in society became a prominent feature of humanist discussions. In 1907, for instance, Mirza aynAli Muhammad Khan, who edited the constitutionalist journal Taraqqi, wrote: "A human being is the noblest of creatures so long as he realizes the distinction of his existence and possesses the essentials of humanism. A human being is entitled to rights so long as he recognizes his rights and considers the protection of rights his obligation. A person is free so long as he considers himself worthy of freedom."100 Such musings about the role and prerogatives of individuals in society became common during the constitutional years (1906–1911) and traced their origins to the burgeoning discussions of humanism that had begun in the late nineteenth century. 42
     Many of the same thinkers who promoted humanism also placed emphasis on hygiene as a hallmark of humanism. Emphasis on hygiene and sanitation prompted debate as well as various administrative measures, pointing to the public interest in promoting cleanliness and sanitation.101 For instance, a "Society for Cleanliness" (Anjuman-i Nizafat), headed by Mirza Abu Talib, was created in Tehran during this period to oversee sanitation of public baths in the capital. Talib was described as an educated person who supported constitutionalism and as someone well-versed in the "praiseworthy qualities of humanism."102 The Municipal Council (Shu'ra-yi Baladiyah) also came into existence at this time, and one of its primary tasks was the maintenance of public hygiene.103 During the period of the second parliament, from 1909 to 1911, several political parties even instituted public hygiene in their political platforms. The Society of the Seekers of Advancement of Iran (Jamayniyat-i Taraqqi Khahan-i Iran), for instance, identified "the preparation of the items necessary for hygiene and the establishment of hospitals" among its goals. Similarly, the party of Ijtimaayniyun-i Ittihadiyun listed improvement in public hygiene as one its objectives.104 One journalist even reported the creation of a medical commission on "military hygiene" (hifz al-sihhat-i nizami), since infirm cavalrymen could not effectively protect the homeland. A healthy army, like a robust citizenry, could better ensure the defense of a country faced with chronic frictions in its periphery.105 43
     Aside from the fact that many constitutional newspapers carried regular features on humanism and hygiene, some used the human anatomy and medical metaphors to describe the body politic, especially the homeland. Journalists thus transformed themselves into healers of the homeland. To instill patriotism, the homeland had first to become intimately tied to the human experience. Anthropomorphism accorded this hitherto-abstract territorial entity—homeland—a corporeal (and therefore familiar) identity. 44
     Like medical doctors, Iran's political healers, then, had to diagnose this metaphorical national body. If decades earlier, some thinkers such as Malkum Khan had isolated lawlessness as a debilitating contagion weakening Iran, during the Constitutional Revolution others would identify other viruses invading the country. One writer in April 1907, for example, was Mudabbir al-Mamalik—the editor of the newspaper Tamaddun.106 In an earlier article, Mamalik had used anatomical metaphors to make this diagnosis: "If we examine closely the nerves and muscles of this country, we will see that many types of pains have been inflicted upon this weak body . . . and despite the affliction of many disasters at the same time, it has not collapsed and still has half a life."107 He had a point. Although at the time of this article, Iran had managed to found a parliament and draw up a constitution, the country was beset by political, fiscal, and territorial troubles that threatened to reverse the hard-won successes of their nearly bloodless revolution. In the north, Russian troops threatened the Caspian provinces. In the west, Ottoman forces marched into Iranian Kurdistan. In the capital, parliamentary delegates considered various and sundry schemes for raising money in order to avert national bankruptcy. Finally, the new king, Muhammad aynAli Shah (r. 1907–1909), showed little sympathy to the constitutionalists, aggravating the distress of a beleaguered nation. These inauspicious happenings naturally cast a pall over the excitement, since the parliament—Iran's political hospital—lacked the necessary resources to eradicate the homeland's maladies. 45
     Increasingly, patriots represented pejorative political concepts such as despotism or tyranny (istibdad) as diseases. Often labeled an incurable ailment (dard-i bi darman) or a "microbe," despotism was depicted as a disease wearing down the nation's new institutions—and therefore its vehicles of freedom—just as cancer eroded the human body. As Mirza Muhammad aynAli Khan commented in Taraqqi, "Previously, the rottenness of despotism had spoiled our brains." With the parliament in session, however, Iranians could at least pursue their political well-being by attempting to keep the scourge of despotism in check.108 46
     In 1907, another journalist labeled Iran an invalid (bimar). This writer, Sultan al-aynUlama Khurasani, who edited the newspaper Ruh al-Quds, even argued that the nation's nurses gave it poison instead of medicine, thus speeding up its demise. The country's emerging political and territorial troubles intensified fears of Iran's "death," or in other words, its territorial obliteration. As Khurasani remarked, "the corpse-washer at the funeral home has brought the coffin [for Iran] since the gravedigger had already warned him [of Iran's impending death]."109 Death, however, could still be averted, and Khurasani considered the secret societies and the parliament as antidotes to Iran's political and territorial demise. According to him, the patriotic solution was to remove Iran's enemies and traitors—or "homeland-sellers" (vatan-furushan)—from the political arena. 47
     As nationalists made love of homeland a leitmotif of the revolution, they relied increasingly on medical analogies to express their concerns about the state of affairs in Iran. In one account, patriots even organized a gathering on hygiene (majlis-i hafiz al-sihhat) to diagnose the ills of the motherland.110 In its second issue, the newspaper Habl al-Matin carried a title piece on this subject: "Is Iran Sick?"111 Not surprisingly, the paper's response to its foreboding question was a resounding "yes." Arguing that whereas Iran had been "the paradise of the world," illness had overtaken its "figure" (haykal), sapping its senses and its strength. As this writer, presumably the newspaper's editor, Mu'ayyid al-Islam, remarked: "Each day we would see its body grow thinner . . . its complexion become sallow . . . but we were too intoxicated by pride . . . to pay attention."112 Having thus determined Iran's sickly condition, this writer then considered various outcomes, including submission to national death—an option categorically rejected. Instead, he proposed possible cures (aynalaj) for the country. "[We should] bring together the . . . doctors and gather them around the bed of the invalid so that each person who knows anything about curing this sickly mother of ours can reveal [his knowledge]."113 Iran's political healers still had one or two tricks left up their sleeves. Among the first "cures" volunteered by the doctors were the antidotes of freedom, justice, and science. Other solutions concerned the necessity for restoring the health of the homeland by providing security and instilling love of life and living. This attitude would ensure the spiritual health and longevity of the homeland, averting national murder or suicide. 48
     Weeks later, Habl al-Matin published another article detailing the responsibility of Iranian patriots to their homeland—also a mother—in filial terms. This essay inspired a running feature in the newspaper Rahnima that centered on the "diagnosis" of Iran. Recognizing the "respect to mothers" (ihtiram bi madar) as a human obligation and the "nursing of the sick" (parasdari az mariz) as a holy responsibility, this male writer implored the sons of Iran to rescue this precious invalid—their motherland—by gathering from among them the nation's doctors and surgeons. Infections (aynufunat) had eroded this matron's delicate figure, robbing her of any vitality and beauty. The motherland's spirit and figure, however, could be revived with a modicum of filial love. This love had once been given by Iran's elder sons, Cyrus the Great (seventh century bce) and Shah aynAbbas Safavi—sons who had expanded and protected the motherland's sacred territorial physique.114 Today, however, this "old mother," who had fed Iran's progeny for centuries with "the meat on your body," now relied on her younger children to fend off rapacious foreigners from her bosom of chastity.115 The love potion of Iran's male doctors (or sons) seemed the final cure for the motherland—a territorial figure whose contours were being assailed by "thieves" from every direction, whether Arabs in the south or Turkmans in the north.116 The physique of the homeland was thus being transformed into a human form, though explicitly within a territorial context. 49
     Such writings were not restricted to Tehran journals alone. In fact, the journal Iblagh, published in Tabriz, made the subject of the homeland's illness—a malady expressed increasingly in territorial terms—a reverberating theme even before some of the Tehran papers did. The location of this journal is significant, as Tabriz was near the other towns along Iran's northwestern boundary, which had been under steady Ottoman attack. Its writer, after lambasting the troops and spies whose travesty had weakened Iran, attacked Iran's "seditious" doctors for giving their sick homeland poison instead of antidotes and thus aggravating its feeble condition.117 50
     Like all hospitals, Iran had employed "good" and "bad" doctors, or, in other words, patriotic healers and unpatriotic traitors, in dealing with the country's maladies. But who had been the historic doctors of Iran? Other than the country's own offspring—who received mild censure at the hands of journalists for the less-than-satisfactory political cures they provided—foreign countries also assumed that persona. At different intervals, for instance, Iran had sought the succor of deceptively well-intentioned Russian and English doctors, who only worsened the country's political and financial illnesses. This fictive reconstruction of historical events served as an obvious criticism of Iran's repeated insistence on foreign, especially Russian and English, advisers in conducting its domestic affairs.118 As this writer, Mahmud Iskandarani, wrote, "From the day that the Russian doctor crossed the threshold of this invalid, sickly conditions have caused pain and grief for this troubled one."119 The Russian doctors, moreover, maintained that if Iran were not given to Russia, it would not be rid of its ills. The issue of Iran's sickness and health, then, had a distinct territorial subtext. Iran's geographical vulnerability to Russian domination resonated strongly in the mind of patriots, particularly since Tabriz remained a region susceptible to Russian intrigues and influence. 51
     One Majlis representative, Mu'tamin al-Mamalik, voiced similar concerns in an article addressed to the parliament. Acknowledging the ailments of his homeland, Mamalik looked to Iran's "true" doctors—the elected members of parliament—to restore Iran's health and to rid the country of its misfortunes by enforcing justice. In other words, the Majlis delegates, in protecting the nation's health (hifz al-sihhat) and in neutralizing its diseases, "were students in the hospital of that country," while the state and citizenry, who had to strengthen the nation, represented the soul and body of this "human country" (insan-i mamlikat).120 The use of medical language and anatomical metaphors in the political arena thus became a common way to express patriotic loyalty to the homeland. 52
     While the malady of despotism had been partly confronted, the disease of discord (nifaq) inflicted other national injuries. Mu'tamin al-Mamalik argued that, "to preserve hygiene in the land of nature, we [should] plant the seeds of unity and solidarity."121 Eliminating conflict would thus ensure that the cacophony of voices would not cause delirium (sarsam) in this invalid and give the nation's doctors a bad reputation. Order and decorum in the parliamentary setting would further ensure that the doctors would not inadvertently prescribe opium (taryak) instead of antidotes (taryaq) for the homeland—a clever word play suggesting that previous political solutions had only worsened Iran's addiction to misrule. 53


Philosophic reflections underpinned the development of Iran's political rhetoric of anthropomorphism and disease. The attribution of human traits to the state had strong Platonic precedents. Iranian patriots referred, often explicitly, to Plato or his ideas of governance in their articles.122 In his celebrated opus The Republic, Plato had remarked: "Must we not acknowledge . . . that in each of us there are the same principles and habits which there are in the State;—and that from the individual they pass into the State?—how else can they come there?"123 In other words, since individuals helped to construct the state, their transmission of individual (or human) qualities to their creation appeared implicit. States and governments became extensions of individuals, developing corporeal dimensions and mortal souls because human beings had invented these categories. Moreover, societies not only resembled human beings in form and spirit, they acquired the characteristics and stereotypes of their peoples. 54
     Although little, if any, evidence of this particular citation exists in Qajar works, the ideas embodied in it abounded in Qajar political writings. Like Plato, Iranian patriots endowed their political construct—the homeland—with personal features. One writer attributed human faculties to this "countrybody" (mamlikat-i badan) to argue for order and cleanliness in Iranian society.124 These concerns became especially acute as citizens worried about the tyrannical ways of Muhammad aynAli Shah—a monarch unfriendly to Iranian constitutionalism. 55
     The rhetoric on homeland lent itself especially well to humanistic analogies precisely because it derived from nature. As Michel Foucault has argued, nature and human nature often act upon each other, and such a relationship offered "a means of communication between the space of the body and the time of culture, between the determinations of nature and the weight of history, but only on condition that the body, and, through it, nature, should first be posited in the experience of an irreducible spatiality."125 Thus "the body provide[d] an outline" for the interpretation of a knowledge derived from nature. In the Iranian political discourse, the homeland—a space rooted in nature—furnished both the naturalist setting and the corporeal experience for patriots. The homeland, as described by one writer, was "a location on earth that has a particular soil, water, and air." In other words, the Iranian vatan had a particular natural environment, yet it was also a territory with a body, soul, and intellect. As this same patriot explained, "Vatan is body, vatan is life, vatan is soul."126 In this manner, nature and human nature became united in the ideal of the Iranian homeland. 56
     Aside from acquiring a corporeal form, the homeland developed a soul and a character with which its residents could identify. In part, intellectuals adopted this rhetoric in order to make their appeal to patriotism comprehensible on a popular basis. After all, what could be more familiar to every compatriot than the bodily self? Iranian patriots, however, did not stop here. Their hallowed homeland was not just any human carcass. At times, it embodied the features of a most esteemed human figure: the mother.127 By personalizing the motherland and its troubles, patriots interpreted civic duties in filial terms. The defilement of this ideal in the form of territorial and bodily invasion or rape—as in the case of Russia's encroachment—negated the very impulses of humanism and civilization. 57
     Anthropomorphism in the Qajar political discourse reflected further endorsement of humanistic ideals. Iranian humanism, a mélange of cultural literariness and individualism, entailed the acquisition of knowledge and a belief in progress. Man (though not necessarily woman) often became a locus of this discourse because he symbolized in form and spirit the possibility of evolution and learning. Humanism as a philosophy gained adherents among Qajar intellectuals, especially during the prelude to the Constitutional Revolution. Malkum Khan himself organized an association called the Assembly of Humanism (Majmaayn-i Adamiyat). Influenced by Positivist ideas, Malkum discussed the theme of "humanism" frequently in his works. In one essay, he wrote, "We humanists of Iran, due to human exigencies, seek all worldly advancements and . . . eternal prosperity"—an end that could be achieved through the observance of liberal laws and the acquisition of humanistic learning.128 In another passage, he discusses the meanings of the terms "human" and "humanism." As he explains, "Anyone who seeks justice, who has zeal, who befriends knowledge, who protects the oppressed, who strengthens progress, and who is a well-wisher of the general public, is a human being."129 Though echoing select Positivist notions, Malkum strove to make his philosophy of humanism consonant with Islamic precepts. "Never suppose that the principles of humanism have been sent to you from the outside. All of these principles, from beginning to end, are the tributary to the fountain of truth that we call Islam."130 Islam, as interpreted by Malkum, embraced the ideals of progress and justice that his society sought to disseminate. In a short treatise called Usul-i Adamiyat ("Tenets of Humanism"), Malkum laid out the fundamentals of his philosophy. Humanism, as he defined it, imposed seven duties, including the avoidance of evil and the pursuit of beneficence, knowledge, and unity.131 It aimed, above all, to put each individual in the service of humanity in order to achieve societal progress.132 Malkum Khan's works were published and put on sale during the constitutional period, indicating continued circulation of his ideas.133 58
     In addition to circulating his writings, Malkum had apparently founded a secret society to promote his philosophy of humanism, but it disbanded in 1896.134 Some years later, aynAbbas Quli Khan Qazvini, an admirer of Malkum Khan, showed his support for humanism as well as some of the essential tenets of Iranian constitutionalism, and founded the Society of Humanism (Anjuman-i Adamiyat) in the early 1900s. Formed in Tehran, the society strove to promote new visions of governance through the endorsement of law, reason, and social progress.135 Its membership included Majlis delegates, officials, and Qajar princes, who, according to historian Janet Afary, "were certainly far from united in their political views," including at one time the radical activists Yahya and Sulayman Iskandari, as well as Muhammad aynAli Shah.136 59
     Another group, called the Society of Humanity (Majmaayn-i Insaniyat), also existed during the constitutional years, further manifesting the prevalence of humanistic ideals in Qajar society. There is, however, little information available on its activities, background, and membership, although it was apparently headed by Mustawfi al-Mamalik.137 A brief mention concerning the Society of Humanity appeared in the newspaper Habl al-Matin, alerting the residents of Ashtiyan, Tafrish, and Gurgan to attend a meeting of the society to select a new assistant director to replace Mumtahin al-Saltanah.138 The creation of political societies or journals that explicitly embraced the theme of humanism showed the popularity of this concept among a broad range of Iranian activists, not just a handful of high-ranking Qajar statesmen or Tehran intellectuals. Indeed, it should be emphasized that while some humanists such as Malkum Khan were dissidents and used the idea of humanism in a specific and sometimes controversial context, other writers, including many of the journalists cited here, used the theme of humanism more broadly to promote hygiene, education, and the rule of law for the general welfare of the Iranian people and nation. 60
     Positivist philosophy also informed Iranian humanism and was evidenced in the use of the catchphrase "order and progress"—two resounding themes of the Constitutional Revolution.139 Scientific laws could be applied to man and society to achieve social betterment. As Auguste Comte explained, "The direct study of the universe suggests and develops the great idea of the laws of nature, which is the basis of all positive philosophy, and capable of extension to the whole phenomena, including at last those of Man and Society. The one point of agreement among all schools of theology and metaphysics, which otherwise differ without limit, is that they regard the study of man as primary, and that of the universe as secondary . . . Whereas, the most marked characteristic of the positive school is that it founds the study of man on the prior knowledge of the external world."140 The intellectual stress on such secular traditions eventually caused a breach with the religious establishment—a conflict poignantly played out during Iran's brief interval of civil war from 1908 to 1909. Still, man became a popular subject of study in relation to the natural world precisely because he was capable of being trained and of improvement through the application of universal laws. An Iranian constitutionalist writer remarked, "one of the advantages of human beings over animals is their ability to progress"—or their "progress-ability" (taraqqi paziri).141 Man's capacity to evolve and to improve made him an apt metaphor for society and the state. 61
     Though focused on man, the humanistic ideals of Iranian constitutionalism eventually embraced woman in the adoption of a female persona for the homeland and in urging education for women. In 1907, for instance, one observer labeled Iran's women "the most unfortunate and the most miserable people of the world." Because many lacked jobs, they remained dependent on men for their economic livelihood. "Ignorant, unfair men" refused to grant Iranian women any "rights of humanity" (huquq-i insaniyat).142 This provocative article, though fomenting little institutional change, was nonetheless a significant public recognition of the inherent need to honor the rights of Iranian women in the evolving political climate of early twentieth-century Iran. After all, prior to this time, few public utterances openly addressed the inferior position of Iranian women or acknowledged their basic human rights. 62
     Even though the nation was slow to embrace its female citizens, its adoption of humanistic ideals would eventually give women a role in the polity. Woman—like man—could better herself, especially as mother and patriot, through education.143 In 1898, a newspaper called "Learning" or "Education," Maaynarif, was founded as the organ of a society bearing the same name. Aside from regularly labeling the promoters of education and progress as "supporters of the world of humanism" (hava khahan-i aynalam-i insaniyat), Maaynarif also argued for the education of women. Referring to an article published in another Persian journal, Ittilaayn, concerning the establishment of schools for women in the neighboring Ottoman lands, it supported education for Iranian women within the domestic sphere. Stressing that mothers needed to be educated in order to impart rules of hygiene and to improve on the nursing of children, it contended: "If our daughters, like those in other civilized countries, learn about the necessary principles of livelihood and housekeeping, which consist of the refinement of manners and of household management, it will bring comfort to their marriage and children." The writer therefore hoped that the Society of Education would take steps to create schools for the "nation's girls," who were, after all, the "future mothers and tutors of the country's sons."144 63
     Women's education was deemed important not just because women played a vital role in raising offspring, especially patriotic offspring, but also because they were regarded as the essential lifeline of humanity. One writer argued, "Women are the basic elements of the social fabric of humanity . . . Mothers, no matter how kind they may be, if they are ignorant, they are the enemies of humanity."145 Moreover, women were the true nurses and caretakers of a hygienic household, and thus a natural conduit for spreading the salutary and patriotic virtues of hygiene and humanism. It behooved them to become educated and learn the principles of hygiene: "Whenever the kind mothers know something about what a microbe is, the innocent children, who are the new generation of the homeland, will not fall prey to hard-to-cure illnesses or the arrow of death."146 Practical considerations such as fear of the spread of disease in the household, as well as in the nation, made it necessary for women to receive a rudimentary hygienic education, even if they were discouraged from learning abstract subjects such as mathematics or philosophy in their formal training or social indoctrination. As one writer argued, "For women, logic and . . . jurisprudence are not necessary."147 Rather, practical knowledge about the basics of "patriotic housewifery" became popular.148 64
     Even journals published a few years later for and by women echoed these themes and promoted hygiene and humanism for women.149 Several essays, for instance, dealt with hygiene and pregnancy, once again highlighting the valuable role of women as progenitors of Iranian society. Pregnant women were cautioned to protect themselves against catching colds and encouraged to eat well, while being discouraged from wearing tight clothing.150 In an interesting public announcement, the journal Danish even thanked a female American doctor for administering care to Iranian women, since previously, because of the paucity of female physicians, people necessarily would turn to "women without knowledge" and seek their assistance, particularly in the delivery of children, even though such women did not practice hygienic medicine, dispensing care with "impure hands filled with microbes."151 65
     Journals geared specifically to women also discussed the themes of humanism and hygiene in other contexts. The newspaper Shikufah, meaning "blossom," which began publication in 1912, stressed the need for women to maintain a hygienic home as well as an active lifestyle.152 In addition, women were encouraged to take on the role of nurses, both literally and figuratively, thus highlighting the further incorporation of hygiene into female education and social indoctrination.153 The theme of humanism as it pertained to women was explicitly addressed in an essay that regarded culture and education as hallmarks of humanism. But for women, culture and humanism had distinct social parameters. For instance, "a woman who in the street or the bazaar jokes with a foreign man and removes the veil between him and herself cannot be called a cultured and educated woman."154 Nonetheless, women were encouraged to pursue the humanistic virtues of education, hygiene, and cleanliness. 66
     Humanism also offered female patriots a visible social role in the national drama.155 Women were not just symbols of the nation but custodians of civilization and practitioners of health. In a telling cartoon dating back to the constitutional period, the daughters of Iran are called upon to restore the health of the nation. Depicted as an invalid, the "mother of the homeland" (madar-i vatan) is surrounded by attentive daughters ministering to her needs.156 The caption reads: "Oh, oh, kind mother, why have you fallen into such affliction, resting on your sick bed?"157 Distressing over the hardships of the motherland, the daughters promise to nurse their ailing mother back to health: "Our dear mother, as long as your daughters are alive, we will not allow you to become so abject. We will not stop curing you." The depiction of Iran as a feeble woman, though reinforcing stereotypes of female weakness and inferiority, made room for female political participation in the polity—a point illustrated in the determination and political will of Iran's young daughters in this cartoon to rescue the homeland. By contrast, the nation's son, shown in the opposite corner of the picture, sleeps indifferently, as his female compatriots beseech him to awaken from his slumber and tend to his motherland.158 The humanistic portrayal of women as sympathetic healers, or nurses, and as embodiments of the homeland gave women a vital political presence and paved the way for their political involvement in the national community. 67
     The significance of the human anatomy in Iran's political discourse became intimately linked to the institutionalization of hygiene, nationalism, and humanistic learning. The dissemination of anatomical knowledge enabled individuals to adopt a biological gaze when discussing the social sciences and the body politic. This development was necessarily modern because, as David Armstrong argues, "it was only since the end of the eighteenth century that disease had been localised to specific organs and tissues, and that bodies had been subjected to the rigours of clinical examination."159 In Iran, too, interest in the body and hygiene as categories of understanding regained currency in the modern era. Newspapers and other literature projected and popularized this biological gaze by drawing an analogy between bodily health and political prosperity. The desire to promote humanism was thus translated into (and institutionalized alongside) another modern rhetoric: the language of Iranian nationalism. 68


Humanism emerged as a prominent theme in Qajar writings, as many considered the reasons for Iran's troubles and offered solutions for its upturn. Qajar humanists stressed the themes of civilization and human progress—ideals best attained through the mastery of humanistic learning and scientific endeavors—while they strove to transform their homeland into a politically viable participant in the commonwealth of humanity. The conjunction between hygiene and patriotism became an important polemic of Iranian humanism because it simultaneously allowed for human betterment and national advancement. As the idea of patriotism (hubb-i vatan) took hold, many thinkers promoted hygiene and cleanliness in their humanistic pursuits and their attempt to forge an ideal national society. Hygiene—a division of science and "social" science—promised the evolution of a sanitary society, a wholesome citizenry, and a healthy national body—concepts encapsulated in the philosophy of Iranian humanism. 69
     Iranian humanists expressed their love for the homeland by serving as intellectual "doctors" of their country and emphasized the dual connotations of hygiene to secure the material prosperity of Iranian citizens and the health of the nation's territorial physique. The instability of the homeland in the postwar years ensured the continuity of medical metaphors in political discussions of Iran. Yet the belief in progress persisted, and humanistic learning continued to stress hygiene as a social necessity as well as a patriotic duty. Implemented through national institutions, humanism thus prevailed as a progressive and patriotic ideology that endorsed hygiene, education, and life, though not necessarily as an ideology of individual liberty, as many Iranian constitutionalists had once hoped.160 70




    Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet is an assistant professor of history at the University of Pennsylvania. She completed her PhD in history at Yale University, where she studied with Paul Kennedy. Her dissertation committee was also co-chaired by Hamid Dabashi of Columbia University. She has worked extensively on nationalism in Iran, and her book, Frontier Fictions: Shaping the Iranian Nation, 1804–1946 (1999), looks at the centrality of frontiers, land, and geography in Iranian nationalist discourse. Her current interests include the study of hygiene and humanism in Iranian modernity.



Notes


A version of this article was presented at the 1997 annual conference of the Middle East Studies Association. I thank the participants and the chair of the panel, Dr. Houchang Chehabi, for their comments. I would also like to thank Matthew Connelly, Hamid Dabashi, David Herrmann, Emily Hill, Afsaneh Najmabadi, Paul Kennedy, and Walid Salih for their comments and/or advice.

1 Habl al-Matin (Tehran), no. 33 (25 Rabiayn al-Thani 1326/May 26, 1908): 1. For Iranian publications, the Muslim calendar date is given first. Its year 1 is 622 CE, when the Prophet Muhammad went from Mecca to Medina.

2 The Qajar dynasty was established in 1796 by Aqa Muhammad Khan. It lasted until 1925.

3 The depiction of Iran or other countries as "sick" was not a new phenomenon. The Ottoman Empire, for instance, was famously known as the "Sick Man of Europe."

4 For one such reference, see Siraj al-Akhbar al-Afghaniyah, 2d year, no. 17 (1913): 11.

5 Siraj al-Akhbar al-Afghaniyah, 2d year, no. 21 (1913): 7. Here, the Persian term insaniyat can mean either "humanity" or "humanism." It is worth mentioning that in this illustration the woman depicted as Europe also bears a resemblance to a nurse.

6 Throughout this essay, references will be made to "Iranian intellectuals," "thinkers," or "scholars." My intention is not to create a monolithic class of individuals but to show that, in its inception, ideas of humanism did in fact originate among the literati, whether statesmen or writers. Where possible, I have striven to cite specific individuals and to provide background information on them, but background information is not always available on lesser-known writers.

7 Joel L. Kramer, Humanism in the Renaissance of Islam: The Cultural Revival during the Buyid Age (Leiden, 1986), 8. Also review the introduction, 1–30, for a thorough discussion of these themes.

8 Kramer, Humanism in the Renaissance of Islam, 10.

9 Kramer, Humanism in the Renaissance of Islam, 10.

10 George Makdisi, The Rise of Humanism in Classical Islam and the Christian West: With Special Reference to Scholasticism (Edinburgh, 1990).

11 In defining the concept of adab, the Encyclopedia of Islam, new edn. (Leiden, 1954) notes that "in the 3rd/9th century there came into being the great literature of adab . . . which is not pure scholarship although it often also touches on, and handles scientific subjects, but which is centred above all on man, his qualities and his passions, the environment in which he lives, and the material and spiritual culture created by him"; p. 176. In the Iranian context, adab can also mean "ideal refinement of thought, word, and deed." Encyclopaedia Iranica, Ehsan Yarshater, ed. (London, 1983), "Adab," 432.

12 E. G. Browne, The Press and Poetry of Modern Persia (Cambridge, 1914).

13 Qajar thinkers did not generally label themselves modernists despite their humanistic endorsement of civilization and progress. Historians, however, have interpreted Qajar concerns and actions through the prism of modernism. For instance, Evrand Abrahamian regards the policies pursued by the Qajar prince aynAbbas Mirza as the "first drive for modernization." Abrahamian, Iran between Two Revolutions (Princeton, N.J., 1982), 52. Also, Nikki Keddie has noted that Amir Kabir, the famed Qajar minister under Nasir al-Din Shah (1848–1896), "was the first person after Abbas Mirza to attempt modernization." See Keddie, Roots of Revolution: An Interpretive History of Modern Iran (New Haven, Conn., 1981), 52–53.

14 Mirza Aqa Khan Kirmani, Sih Maktub, Bahram Choubine, ed. (Tehran, 1370/1991), 56–58. Mirza Aqa Khan was a prolific writer, who served for some time as one of the editors of the nineteenth-century Persian newspaper Akhtar, published in Istanbul. In addition, he was in close contact with another influential thinker, Sayyid Jamal al-Din "Afghani," who strove to create a unified pan-Islamic movement. The writings of Kirmani and Afghani played an important role in fomenting political dissent against the Qajar political leadership and in promoting ideas of reform, revolt, and constitutionalism in late nineteenth and early twentieth-century Iran. See Choubine, Sih Maktub, 4–54, for a discussion of Kirmani and his writings; and Nikki Keddie, Sayyid Jamal ad-Din "al-Afghani": A Political Biography (Berkeley, Calif., 1972).

15 Nasiri, no. 6 (15 Dhul-hijja 1311/June 19, 1894): 48; also 46–47 on civilization. Another article highlighted the importance of acquiring technical knowledge in order to promote humanism and civilization as a way of strengthening the structures of the nation. See Nasiri, no. 17 (1 Jumada al-Thani 1312/November 30, 1894): 135. The Babi movement was a religious and political movement that emerged in nineteenth-century Iran under the leadership of Sayyid Ali Muhammad of Shiraz.

16 Habl al-Matin, no. 41 (September 3, 1900): 15–16. In 1907, a newspaper called Vatan elaborated on the need for patriots to undertake their humanistic duty of pursuing education and serving the nation in a column called "The Duty of Human Beings." Vatan (21 Dhul-qaaynda 1324/January 6, 1907): 1–2. For theoretical works on nationalism, see Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism, rev. edn. (London, 1991); and Thongchai Winichakul, Siam Mapped: A History of the Geo-body of a Nation (Honolulu, 1994). For a discussion of these ideas in relation to Iranian nationalism, see Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, Frontier Fictions: Shaping the Iranian Nation, 1804–1946 (Princeton, N.J., 1999).

17 It could be argued, however, that later in the twentieth century, insaniyat was used more in the sense of humanity, rather than humanism per se.

18 Nazim al-Islam Kirmani, Tarikh-i Bidari-yi Iranian, aynAli Akbar Saaynidi Sirjani, ed. (Tehran, 1357/1978), 2: 375. The famous chronicler of the Constitutional Revolution, Nazim al-Islam Kirmani, described aynAbd al-Muttalib as "one of the people who have greatly served the nation and the state." Ibid., 2: 375. However, E. G. Browne's opinion of Aqa Mirza aynAbd al-Muttalib was less favorable, as "from the beginning of the Constitution, [he] was an object of suspicion to the Constitutionalists and was in league with the Reactionaries." Browne, Press and Poetry of Modern Persia, 27.

19 Adamiyat, no. 2 (26 Jumada al-Avval 1325/1907): 1.

20 "AH" stands for anno Hegirae, year of the migration. Browne, Press and Poetry of Modern Persia, 48.

21 Umid, no. 1 (15 Ramadan 1324/November 2, 1906): 3–4.

22 There has been a renewed interest in the study of Qajar art. For a useful recent article on the subject, see Layla S. Diba, "Images of Power and the Power of Images: Intention and Response in Early Qajar Painting (1785–1834)," in Royal Persian Paintings: The Qajar Epoch, 1785–1925, Diba, ed. (New York, 1998), 30–49. For other studies of Qajar art, see B. W. Robinson, Studies in Persian Art (London, 1993). While many aspects of Qajar art have been studied in these works, the theme of humanism has not been explored. My paper "The Sacred and the Profane: Humanism and the Individual in Qajar Art," forthcoming, addresses this subject.

23 In the nineteenth century, two proponents of this trend were Mirza Fath aynAli Akhundzadah (d. 1878) and Mirza Aqa Khan Kirmani, who was influenced by the former. See Akhundzadah, Alifba-yi Jadid va Maktubat (Tabriz, 1357/1978); and Choubine, Sih Maktub, 257–62. For other discussions of the Persian language, though not in relation to humanism, see M. Tavakoli-Targhi, "Refashioning Iran: Language and Culture during the Constitutional Revolution," Iranian Studies 23 (1990): 77–101.

24 For instance, in her study of bubonic plague, Carol Benedict addresses "questions surrounding the origins of this disease in Yunnan; the reasons for its spread from the southwest to provinces lying along the southeastern seaboard; and the changing social, medical, and religious responses of the Chinese to it over the course of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries." Benedict, Bubonic Plague in Nineteenth-Century China (Stanford, Calif., 1996), 3. David S. Barnes, The Making of a Social Disease: Tuberculosis in Nineteenth-Century France (Berkeley, Calif., 1995), 5, writes: "This book undertakes to trace what was known about tuberculosis in the nineteenth century, the conditions under which that knowledge was produced, and how it was used." For other studies, see J. N. Hays, The Burdens of Disease: Epidemics and Human Response in Western History (New Brunswick, N.J., 1998); W. F. Bynum, Science and the Practice of Medicine in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 1994); David Arnold, Colonizing the Body: State Medicine and Epidemic Disease in Nineteenth-Century India (Berkeley, 1993); and Ruth Rogaski, "From Protecting the Body to Defending the Nation: The Emergence of Public Health in Tianjin, 1859–1953" (PhD dissertation, Yale University, 1996).

25 In the second session of the Paris sanitary conference, August 5, 1851, one of the participants declared: "Sirs, . . . in order to complete this magnificent work of the human spirit, no effort will be more fecund and more powerful than the wise regulation, than the reduction . . . of sanitary obstacles. Let us work in common to reach this goal, and we will have been well worthy of civilization and humanity." Procès-verbaux de la Conférence sanitaire internationale ouverte à Paris le 27 juillet 1851 (Paris, 1851). Similar pronouncements were also made at subsequent International Sanitary Conferences: Procès-verbaux de la Conférence sanitaire internationale, ouverte à Constantinople le 13 février 1866 (Constantinople, 1866); and Procès-verbaux de la Conférence sanitaire internationale, ouverte à Vienne le juillet 1874 (Vienna, 1874).

26 For histories of modern medicine in Iran, see C. Elgood, A Medical History of Persia (Cambridge, 1951). See also Mahmud Najmi, Tarikh-i Tibb dar Iran pas az Islam (Tehran, 1354/1974); and Tarikh-i Ravabit-i pizishki-yi Iran va Faransih (Tehran, 1991). None of these works addresses the relevance of humanism to the development of modern medicine in Iran, nor do they evaluate the distinct rise and development of hygiene, often considered a branch of medicine in Iran.

27 J. D. Tholozan, Histoire de la peste bubonique en Perse, ou la détermination de son origine, de sa marche, du cycle de ses apparitions, et de la cause de sa prompte extinction (Paris, 1874), 25.

28 Ruznamah-i Vaqayiayn Ittifaqiyah, no. 45 (17 Safar 1268/1851): 1.

29 For a study of quarantines and the plague in Iran, see Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, "'City of the Dead': The Frontier Polemics of Quarantines in the Ottoman Empire and Iran," Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East 18 (December 1998): 51–58.

30 Public Record Office, Kew Gardens, Foreign Office (hereafter, FO) 248/330, June 14, 1877.

31 PRO, Ministry of Health (hereafter, MH) 98/24/51345, "The Austrian Minister at Tehran to Count Andrassy," 2.

32 FO 248/326/51262, "Memo of the Board of Health held on Sunday, April 15, 1877," 1.

33 MH 98/24/51345, "Surgeon-Major Colvill to the Secretary to the Surgeon-General, India Medical Department, Bombay," Baghdad, April 26, 1876. For a brief history of the plague epidemics in Mesopotamia, see MH 98/24/51345, "Memoranda on the Plague in Mesopotamia," received October 10, 1876, 1–11; MH 98/24/51345, "Reports from Colonel Nixon respecting the cases of Plague in Mesopotamia," July 18, 1876; and MH 98/24/51345, "Report by Consul-General Nixon on the Epidemic in Mesopotamia."

34 On cholera, see "Cholera," Encyclopaedia Iranica. Also see Hormoz Ebrahimnejad, "Un traité d'épidémiologie de la médecine traditionnelle persane: Mofarraq ol-Heyze va'l-Vaba de Mirza Mohammad-Taqi Shirazi (ca. 1800–1873)," Studia Iranica 27 (1998): 83–107; and Ebrahimnejad, "La médecine d'observation en Iran du XIXe siècle," Gesnerus 55 (1998): 33–57. For relevant work on frontier polemics and or hygiene, see Kashani-Sabet, "'City of the Dead,'" and F. Kashani-Sabet, "Fragile Frontiers: The Diminishing Domains of Qajar Iran," International Journal of Middle East Studies (May 1997): 205–34. For further work on cholera and public health, see A. A. Afkhami, "Defending the Guarded Domain: Epidemics and the Emergence of International Sanitary Policy in Iran," in Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa, and the Middle East 19 (1999): 122–36. As far as smallpox was concerned, efforts to vaccinate citizens widely became a desired goal for the government. In 1894, the newspaper Nasiri noted that "every year many children die or become maimed because of the lack of smallpox vaccinations," suggesting that smallpox vaccinations were far from widespread in Qajar Iran. For this reason, and particularly in the interest of helping the poor protect their children, it reported that smallpox vaccinations were available gratis twice a week, on Saturdays and Wednesdays, at the clinic of Mirza Mahmud Khan Mushir al-Hukama, "who is one of the proficient doctors of our time." Families from "any guild or class" were encouraged to seek these medical services. Nasiri, no. 4 (15 Dhul-qaaynda 1311/May 21, 1894): 30.

35 FO 248/326/51262, March 25, 1877, "Memo of the Board of Health held on Sunday, March 25, 1877," 1.

36 Farhang, no. 9 (11 Shaaynban 1296/July 31, 1879): 1.

37 Many of these treatises can be found at the National Library in Tehran and at the Central Library of Tehran University. See the following works at the National Library as representative samples, although there are countless others that can be included both from these and other libraries: Dastur al-Attiba fi Dafayn al-Taaynwun va al-vaba (F/605); Risalah dar Vaba va Taaynwun (2767/3); Maraz-i Abilih (F-1227/7); Hafiz al-Sihhi-yi Nasiri (RF-447); Hifz-i Sihhat (132/1); and Tuhfat al-Sihhi (F 905). I reviewed many of these while on a research trip to Iran several years ago, and use some of them (and other manuscripts) for my larger study.

38 International Sanitary Conference (Paris, 1851), 31st séance, M. le Docteur Monlau, secrétaire rapporteur.

39 International Sanitary Conference (Constantinople, 1866), no. 1, séance du 13 février 1866, 3.

40 E. G. Browne, Arabian Medicine (Westport, Conn., 1983), 93; also C. Elgood, A Medical History of Persia (Cambridge, 1951), 518.

41 MH 98/24/51345, "Count Beust to the Earl Derby," Belgrave Square, June 27, 1877, 3–4. This document notes that although the Persian government had previously instituted a sanitary council, it "soon stopped functioning."

42 MH 98/24/51345, Memorandum by J. Dickson, Tehran, January 2, 1877.

43 Farhang, no. 8 (4 Shaaynban 1296/July 24, 1879). The Society of Physicians of Isfahan was called either the "Anjuman-i Pizishkan-i Isfahan" or the "Anjuman-i Tibbiyah-i Isfahan."

44 Farhang, no. 8 (4 Shaaynban 1296/July 24, 1879).

45 Compare Michel Foucault, The Birth of the Clinic: An Archeology of Medical Perception (1973; New York, 1994).

46 Ruznamah-i aynIlmi, no. 1 (22 Dhul-hijja 1293/January 8, 1877): 4.

47 Ruznamah-i aynIlmi, no. 10 (3 Rabiayn al-Avval 1294/March 19, 1877): 1. Compare Foucault, Birth of the Clinic. In his study of tuberculosis in nineteenth-century France, David S. Barnes has discussed the term "hygienic gaze," which, he argues, "did indeed represent a strategy of controlling pathology through surveillance, knowledge, and writing." Barnes, Making of a Social Disease, 213. It may be argued that a similar "hygienic" or sanitizing gaze was developing in nineteenth-century Iran.

48 For related discussions, see H. Ebrahimnejad, "Les épidémies et l'évolution de la médecine en Iran du XIXe siècle," Medicina nei secoli 11 (1999): 167–96.

49 Farhang, no. 76 (6 Muharram 1298/December 9, 1880): 2–4; also Farhang, no. 75 (28 Dhul-hijja 1297/December 2, 1880): 2–4. This topic is continued in other numbers as well.

50 Farhang, no. 84 (3 Rabiaynal-Avval 1298/February 3, 1881): 2–3.

51 Ittilaayn, no. 186 (26 Safar 1305/November 13, 1887): 3.

52 Malik al-Muvarrikhin, "Qanun-i Muzaffari," Manuscript at the National Library, Tehran, no. 314, chap. 19. For studies of Tehran in the nineteenth century, see Nasir Najmi, Dar al-Khilafah-i Tehran (Tehran, 1977); Najmi, Tehran-i aynAhd-i Nasiri (Tehran, 1990).

53 Khan-i Khanan, "Risalah-i dar Siyasat," Manuscript at the National Library, Tehran, no. 385 RF, 110. Unfortunately, this manuscript offers little information on the background of the writer.

54 Khanan, "Risalah-i dar Siyasat," 111–12.

55 Tarbiyat (11 Ramadan 1315/February 3, 1898): 239. It is important to note that the study of the human anatomy and physiology had roots in medieval Islamic medical literature. A fifteenth-century Persian manuscript, "Tashrih al-Badan" (Description of the Body), by Mansur ibn Muhammad ibn al Faqih Ilyas, provided a drawing of the circulatory and nervous systems of the human anatomy. As Howard R. Turner explains, "Medieval Muslim physicians added significantly to our knowledge of anatomy and physiology. Diagrams such as this fifteenth-century example reveal considerable understanding of the body's vital processes. Muslim achievements included a new theory about the secondary, or lesser, circulation of the blood (between the heart and the lungs) that remained generally ignored until its rediscovery in our own time." Turner, Science in Medieval Islam: An Illustrated Introduction (Austin, Tex., 1995), 144.

56 Adab, no. 181 (6 Safar 1324/April 1, 1906): 5.

57 Adab, no. 185 (11 Rabiayn al-Avval 1324/May 6, 1906): 7. Adab also reported the use of a book on hygiene, entitled Sihhat-i Muzaffari, which it recommended to every family. Moreover, Adab decided to distribute several sample copies of this book to the dignitaries of various Iranian cities. This work was also being made available to schools. See Adab, no. 178 (5 Muharram 1324/March 1, 1906): 6. This point is reinforced by Foucault, who wrote, "Medicine must no longer be confined to a body of techniques for curing ills and of the knowledge that they require; it will also embrace a knowledge of healthy man, that is, a study of non-sick man and a definition of the model man." Birth of the Clinic, 34.

58 Encyclopedia of Islam (new edition), "al-Insan al-Kamil." The idea of the perfect man also occurs in Islamic mysticism, in particular, the philosophy of Ibn al-aynArabi (d. 1240). As Gerhard Böwering has noted, "The idea of the Perfect Human Being may best be understood in the Sufi paradigm that depicts the human race as taking its origin from God in cosmic descent and returning to God in mystic ascent." Encylopaedia Iranica, "Ensan-e Kamel." For use of the term in Persian constitutionalist literature, see Iblagh, no. 2 (23 Dhul-hijja 1324/February 7, 1907): 2.

59 Tarbiyat, no. 94 (11 Dhul-hijja 1315/May 3, 1898): 376.

60 Tarbiyat (14 Shavval 1314/March 18, 1897): 55.

61 Tarbiyat (3 Dhul-hijja 1314/May 6, 1897): 84. The newspaper Ruznamah-i aynIlmiya-i Iran also devoted several issues to the sciences.

62 The word "pathology" was not unknown to Qajar doctors and intellectuals. There is a manuscript with that title, dated to the thirteenth century AH/nineteenth century CE, at the National Library (Kitabkhanah-i Milli-yi Iran) in Tehran: Pathologie—2777/F. There is also an explanation of the term in the journal Hifz al-Sihhat, no. 4 (Jumada al-Avval 1324/1906): 2.

63 Tarbiyat, no. 59 (4 Ramadan 1315/January 27, 1898): 233.

64 Tarbiyat, no. 88 (4 Dhul-hijja 1315/April 26, 1898): 350. Also see Tarbiyat (14 Safar 1315/July 15, 1897): 124; and Tarbiyat (4 Ramadan 1315/January 27, 1898): 234.

65 Maaynarif (Tehran), no. 32 (10 Shavval 1317/February 10, 1900): 2. Other related subjects that would form part of the school curriculum included ophthalmology, surgery, dentistry, physiology, and pharmacology. Other than the term physiology, which was given a Persian transliteration of the equivalent French term, the aforementioned subjects were noted using Persian/Arabic words, which I have rendered into English equivalents.

66 For one such example, see Nawruz (22 Jumada al-Avval 1321/August 16, 1903): 2–3.

67 Nawruz (1 Rabiayn al-Avval 1322/May 17, 1904): 3–4. The newspaper Nasiri also stressed the importance of engaging in moderate physical activity and movement to maintain bodily health. See Nasiri, no. 17 (1 Jumada al-Thani 1312/November 30, 1894).

68 Adab (5 Shaaynban 1321/October 26, 1903): 13–14.

69 Hifz al-Sihhat, no. 4 (Jumada al-Avval 1324/1906): 18–23.

70 Women's mothering, in particular, their breastfeeding abilities, remained an important theme of public hygiene in Iran. For another reference, see Khayr al-Kalam, no. 32 (4 Rabiayn al-Avval 1328/1910): 3. Here, women are told to be careful when supplementing their breast milk with other milk. It is pointed out that a decent alternative to mother's milk is sterilized cowsmilk. Women are also told to sterilize bottles before putting them in their infant's mouth. In addition, there was interest in treating diseases with sensitive social implications such as syphilis. For instance, see Nasiri, no. 4 (1 Dhul-Qaaynda 1313/April 15, 1896): 38–39.

71 Tarbiyat (21 Safar 1315/July 22, 1897): 125.

72 See Maryam B. Sanjabi, "Rereading the Enlightenment: Akhundzada and His Voltaire," Iranian Studies 28 (Winter–Spring 1995): 39–60.

73 Farhang, nos. 13–14 (9 Ramadan 1296/August 28, 1879): 3.

74 Ibid., 4.

75 The idea of individual subordination to the state has medieval Islamic precedents. See A. K. S. Lambton, State and Government in Medieval Islam (Oxford, 1981), 307–15.

76 Mirza Yusuf Khan, Mustashar al-Dawlah, Yak Kalimah, Sadiq Sajjadi, ed. (Tehran, 1364/1985). Also see Hamid Algar, Mirza Malkum Khan: A Study in the History of Iranian Modernism (Berkeley, Calif., 1973), 139. Although Mustashar al-Dawlah's works were sold during the constitutional period, he died before the Constitutional Revolution.

77 Anjuman (Tabriz), no. 108 (26 Jumada al-Avval 1325/1907): 4.

78 Ruznamah-i Milli, no. 7 (24 Ramadan 1324/November 11, 1906): 2.

79 Tarbiyat (11 Ramadan 1315/February 3, 1898): 237.

80 For background reading, see Ernst Mayr, The Growth of Biological Thought: Diversity, Evolution, and Inheritance (Cambridge, 1982); William Coleman, Biology in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 1971, 1977).

81 For studies on similar subjects in other fields, see Epidemics and Ideas: Essays on the Historical Perception of Pestilence, Terence Ranger and Paul Slack, eds. (Cambridge, 1992); William H. McNeill, Peoples and Plagues (Garden City, N.Y., 1976).

82 Malkum Khan, Qanun, edited by Huma Natiq, no. 24 (n.d.): 1. Moreover, in talking about despotism in Asian societies, Malkum labeled it a calamity and a plague. Qanun, no. 36: 3. Malkum Khan's pronouncements were particularly revealing, for he had served on numerous diplomatic missions, including the delineation of Iran's eastern boundary in the 1870s, and was Iran's representative to the International Sanitary Conference of 1866. For notable treatises on the subject of law in Qajar Iran, see Malkum Khan, Majmuaynah-i Asar-i Mirza Malkum Khan, Muhammad Muhit Tabataba'i, ed. (Tehran, 1359/1980). For a biography of Malkum Khan, see Algar, Mirza Malkum Khan.

83 For discussions of Persian kingship, see A. K. S. Lambton, Theory and Practice in Medieval Persian Government (London, 1980); and C. Amir-Mokri, "Redefining Iran's Constitutional Revolution" (PhD dissertation, University of Chicago, 1992), 40–50.

84 Musa bin aynAli Riza Savuji, "Hifz-i Sihhat," Manuscript at the National Library, Tehran, no. 132RF/1, 8.

85 Savuji, "Siyasat-i Mudun," Manuscript at the National Library, Tehran, no. 132RF/2.

86 The Meaning of the Glorious Koran, interpreted by Mohammed M. Pickthall, Sura IV, verse 43, pp. 83–84, Sura V, verse 6, p. 97.

87 Koran, interpreted by Pickthall, Sura II, verse 222, p. 53.

88 Adab, no. 179 (19 Muharram 1324/March 15, 1906): 8. Also see Adab, no. 185 (11 Rabiayn al-Avval 1324/May 6, 1906): 7.

89 Nikki Keddie, An Islamic Response to Imperialism: Political and Religious Writings of Sayyid Jamal ad-Din "al-Afghani" (Berkeley, Calif., 1968), 183–84. It is worth noting that one of Afghani's works was put on sale and advertised during the constitutional period. See Khayr al-Kalam, no. 78 (6 Shavval 1328/October 10, 1910): 4.

90 For discussions of the homeland and the nation, see Kashani-Sabet, Frontier Fictions. For an analysis of related Qajar political terminologies, see Tavakoli-Targhi, "Refashioning Iran."

91 Umid, no. 9 (12 Dhul-qaaynda 1324/December 28, 1906): 3.

92 Umid, no. 9 (12 Dhul-qaaynda 1324/December 28, 1906): 3. For related discussions of vatan, see al-Hadid, no. 11 (13 Rajab 1324/September 1906): 3–4; and Nasiri, no. 13 (1 Safar 1314/July 12, 1896): 146. There are many similar discussions of vatan in the newspaper Habl al-Matin and other journals published during the constitutional period.

93 For similar expressions of patriotism and nostalgia for "old Iran," see Umid, no. 18 (1 Safar 1325/March 16, 1907): 2.

94 Ruh al-Quds, no. 1 (25 Jumada al-Thani 1325/August 5, 1907): 4. In several issues, this newspaper used medical and anatomical metaphors to discuss the problems of Iran.

95 For studies of the geographic boundaries of Iran, see Kashani-Sabet, "Fragile Frontiers"; and Kashani-Sabet, Frontier Fictions.

96 Eric Hobsbawm and Terence Ranger, eds., The Invention of Tradition (Cambridge, 1983).

97 For general studies of the Constitutional Revolution, see Janet Afary, The Iranian Constitutional Revolution of 1906–1911: Grassroots Democracy, Social Democracy and the Origins of Feminism (New York, 1996); Mangol Bayat, Iran's First Revolution: Shiaynism and the Constitutional Revolution of 1905–1909 (New York, 1991); Vanessa Martin, Islam and Modernism: The Iranian Revolution of 1906 (London, 1989); M. Malikzadah, Tarikh-i Inqilab-i Mashrutiyat-i Iran (Tehran, 1984); F. Adamiyat, Fikr-i Azadi va Muqaddamah-i Nihzat-i Mashrutiyat-i Iran (Tehran, 1981); and A. Kasravi, Tarikh-i Mashrutah-i Iran (Tehran, 1984). The role of humanism and hygiene has not been discussed in these works.

98 For instance, Umid, no. 1 (15 Ramadan 1324/November 1906): 3; and Adamiyat, no. 3 (28 Jumada al-Avval 1325/July 10, 1907): 4.

99 Awqyanus, no. 2 (24 Rabiayn al-Thani 1326/May 25, 1908): 1.

100 Taraqqi, no. 8 (17 Rabiayn al-Avval 1325/1907): 1.

101 Taraqqi, no. 5 (5 Rabiayn al-Avval 1325/1907): 1.

102 Tamaddun, no. 45 (26 Shavval 1325/1907): 4.

103 Tamaddun, no. 54 (26 Muharram 1326/1908): 1–2.

104 Maramnamah'ha va Nizamnamah'ha-yi Ahzab-i Siyasi-yi Iran dar Duvvumin Dawrah-i Majlis-i Shu'ra-yi Milli, Mansoureh Ittihadiyeh, ed. (Tehran, 1361/1982), 149, 163. During the constitutional period, efforts to promote institutions that supported public health and hygiene spread more rapidly to the provinces, in part because of the creation of provincial societies. See Khayr al-Kalam, no. 59 (22 Shaaynban 1328/August 28, 1910): 3–4, on efforts to revamp the hospital in Rasht, Gilan. Also, Khayr al-Kalam, no. 51 (25 Rajab 1328/August 1, 1910): 4, mentions the existence of a medical council (shu'ra-yi tibbi) that included some of the well-known doctors of Gilan and convened twice a week. In addition, a hygiene assembly (majlis-i hifz al-sihhi) also existed there. For a list of its members and some of its instructions, see Khayr al-Kalam, no. 51 (25 Rajab 1328/August 1, 1910): 3. There is also a reference to a hygiene society in Qum (anjuman-i sihhat-i Qum) in Habl al-Matin, no. 27 (18 Rabiayn al-Thani 1326/May 19, 1908): 5–6.

105 Khurshid (Mashhad) (1328/1910): 2.

106 Tamaddun, no. 12 (7 Rabiayn al-Avval 1325/April 20, 1907): 1.

107 Tamaddun, no. 8 (15 Safar 1325/March 30, 1907): 1.

108 Taraqqi, no. 14 (15 Rabiayn al-Thani 1325/May 28, 1907): 3.

109 Ruh al-Quds (25 Jumada al-Thani 1325/August 5, 1907): 3. Discussions of hygiene are on the same page.

110 Rahnima, no. 1 (26 Jumada al-Ukhra/August 6, 1907): 7. A. Najmabadi discusses this feature story in her work on the medicalization of vatan. She also makes reference to the following Habl al-Matin and Sur-i Israfil articles. However, Najmabadi's analysis of the motherland does not include a discussion of humanism and the humanistic culture of the Qajar years. See Najmabadi, "The Erotic Vatan as Beloved and Mother: To Love, to Possess, and to Protect," Comparative Studies in Society and History (July 1997): 442–67. In correspondence, M. Tavakoli-Targhi has informed me that his current research focuses in part on the medicalization of vatan. I have not, however, read his work on the subject.

111 Habl al-Matin (16 Rabiayn al-Avval 1325/April 30, 1907): 1.

112 Ibid.

113 Ibid., 2.

114 Habl al-Matin, no. 24 (13 Rabiayn al-Thani 1325/May 26, 1907): 1.

115 Sur-i Israfil, no. 18 (21 Shavval 1325/November 27, 1907): 3–4.

116 Habl al-Matin (8 Rabiayn al-Thani 1326/May 9, 1908): 1–2. For an excellent study of the homeland as a mother, see Najmabadi, "Erotic Vatan as Beloved and Mother." For other related discussions, see Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, "The Frontier Phenomenon: Perceptions of the Land in Iranian Nationalism," Critique: Journal for Critical Studies of the Middle East 10 (Spring 1997): 19–38.

117 Iblagh, no. 1 (n.d.): 3.

118 For an account of two well-known concessions granted to Great Britain and Russia—the Reuter and Falkenhagen concessions—see Firuz Kazemzadeh, Russia and Britain in Persia, 1864–1914: A Study in Imperialism (New Haven, Conn., 1968).

119 Iblagh, no. 2 (23 Dhul-Hijja 1324/February 7, 1907): 3; Iblagh, no. 3 (Muharram 1325/February 1907): 1–2.

120 Subh-i Sadiq, no. 4 (26 Safar 1325/April 10, 1907): 3.

121 Subh-i Sadiq, no. 4 (26 Safar 1325/April 10, 1907): 3.

122 Tamaddun, no. 7 (6 Safar 1325/March 21, 1907): 4. Also see Subh-i Sadiq, no. 4 (26 Safar 1325/April 10, 1907): 4; Adab (27 Shavval 1316/March 10, 1899): 49; and Hifz al-Sihhat, no. 3 (12 [?] Rabiayn al-Thani 1324/1906): 30–32. According to E. G. Browne, there was even a newspaper called Aflatun (Plato) during the constitutional period. Browne, Press and Poetry of Modern Persia, 44. It should also be pointed out that Platonic thought influenced many medieval Islamic thinkers such as al-Farabi, whose writings continued to affect Iranian and other Islamic scholars. See Muhsin Mahdi, Al-Farabi's Philosophy of Plato and Aristotle (Ithaca, N.Y., 1962); Erwin I. J. Rosenthal, Political Thought in Medieval Islam (Cambridge, 1958); and Lambton, State and Government in Medieval Islam, 316–25.

123 Plato, The Republic, the late Benjamin Jowett, trans. (New York, 1991), 151. Plato viewed the physician's main role as "cur[ing] the body with the mind," for the "mind that has become sick and is sick can cure nothing"; 116. Also see 160.

124 Safinah-i Nijat, no. 10 (12 Muharram 1326/1908): 1.

125 Michel Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences (New York, 1970), 321; also see 303–43.

126 Amuzgar, no. 14 (Ramadan 1329/1911): 1.

127 See Najmabadi, "Erotic Vatan as Beloved and Mother."

128 Malkum Khan, Qanun, no. 13, pp. 1–2. For Malkum Khan's other works, see Malkum Khan, Kulliyat-i Malkum Khan, Hashim Rabi'zadah, ed. (Tehran, 1325/1907). Hamid Algar, Malkum Khan's biographer, explains that the term adam "has the sense of man not simply as a member of the human race, but rather as a being descended from Adam, the first man and the first prophet, ennobled by God and endowed with spiritual qualities which are a dim and microcosmic reflection of divine attributes." Algar, Mirza Malkum Khan, 229.

129 Malkum Khan, Qanun, no. 4: 3.

130 Malkum Khan, Qanun, no. 16: 3.

131 Malkum Khan, Kulliyat, 234. This treatise is briefly discussed by Algar, Mirza Malkum Khan, 229–32.

132 Malkum Khan, Kulliyat, 244–46.

133 Habl al-Matin, no. 105 (22 Rajab 1325/September 1, 1907): 6.

134 Algar, Mirza Malkum Khan, 248.

135 Abrahamian, Iran between Two Revolutions, 77. Also see Faridun Adamiyat, Fikr-i Azadi va Nihzat-i Mashrutiyat-i Iran (Tehran, 1961). Although, in this instance, Abrahamian has translated adamiyat as humanity, I have defined it as humanism, and I have preferred to use the term "humanity" for the Persian word insaniyat.

136 Afary, Iranian Constitutional Revolution, 77.

137 Browne, Press and Poetry of Modern Persia, 48. For a study of secret societies in the constitutional period, see Ann Lambton, "Secret Societies and the Persian Revolution of 1905–1906," in A. K. S. Lambton, ed., Qajar Persia (Austin, Tex., 1987), 301–18. Also see Pardis Minuchehr, "Homeland from Afar: Iranian Diaspora and the Quest for Modernity" (PhD dissertation, Columbia University, 1998).

138 Habl al-Matin, no. 4 (20 Rabiayn al-Avval 1326/April 22, 1908): 8.

139 Comte had reviewed the history of sciences and human societies to show that order and progress "are indispensable conditions in a state of modern civilization; and their combination is at once the grand difficulty and the main resource of every genuine political system." Auguste Comte, Positive Philosophy, Harriet Martineau, trans. (New York, 1855), 401. Several constitutional newspapers stressed the themes of progress (taraqqi) and order (nazm/intizam) in their pages. One of the slogans for the newspaper Qanun was "taraqqi," not to mention the fact that there was also a newspaper by the same name. For one discussion of order, see Malkum Khan, "Kitabchih Ghaybi, ya Daftar-i Tanzimat," in Majmuaynah-i Asar, 2–52.

140 Comte, Positive Philosophy, 301. For a discussion of Comte's philosophy on Young Turk ideology, see M. S. Hanioglu, The Young Turks in Opposition (New York, 1995), 7–32.

141 Tamaddun, no. 63 (6 Rabiayn al-Avval 1326/April 8, 1908): 1. Even today, Iran's president echoes similar notions on human evolution. In his work Islam, Liberty and Development, Mohammad Khatami discusses the course of human civilization in the following terms: "The difference between humans and other social animals is that humans learn from their past experience, improve upon it, and leave their achievements for the next generation. And this process has continued uninterrupted for as long [sic] there has been a human race. Thus, there is no limit to human evolution." Khatami, Islam, Liberty and Development, Hossein Kamaly, trans. (Binghamton, N.Y., 1998), 67. For a thoughtful review of Khatami's works, see Shaul Bakhash, "Iran's Unlikely President," New York Review of Books, November 5, 1998.

142 Habl al-Matin, no. 103 (19 Rajab 1325/August 29, 1907): 1. For an excellent article on women under the Qajars, see Mansoureh Ettehadieh, "Zan dar Jamiaynah-i Qajar," Kilk 55–56 (Fall 1373/1994): 27–50. For studies of women in the constitutional period, see Mangol Bayat-Philipp, "Women and Revolution in Iran, 1905–11," in Lois Beck and Nikki Keddie, eds., Women in the Muslim World (Cambridge, Mass., 1978); Janet Afary, "On the Origins of Feminism in Early 20th-Century Iran," Journal of Women's History 1 (Fall 1989): 65–87; Eliz Sanasarian, The Women's Rights Movement in Iran (New York, 1982); Afsaneh Najmabadi, "Women or Wives of the Nation?" Iranian Studies 26 (1993); Huma Natiq, "Nigahi bih barkhi nivishtiha va mubarizat-i zanan dar dawran-i mashrutiyat," Kitab-i Jumayna 30 (1979): 45–54; aynAbdul Husayn Nahid, Zanan-i Iran dar junbish-i mashrutiyat (Saarbrücken, 1989). (The theme of humanism in relation to women's rights and educational opportunities is not discussed in these works.)

143 For a discussion of female education and patriotic womanhood based on textbooks used in women's schools in late Qajar Iran, see Firoozeh Kashani-Sabet, "Frontier Fictions: Land, Culture, and Shaping the Iranian Nation, 1804–1946" (PhD dissertation, Yale University, 1997); and Frontier Fictions, chap. 6. For related discussions using educational texts from an earlier period, see A. Najmabadi, "Crafting an Educated Housewife in Iran," in Remaking Women: Feminism and Modernity in the Middle East (Princeton, N.J., 1998), 91–125. Here, Najmabadi erroneously states that Shikufah began publication in 1914 (101, 111). The importance of humanism in the education debate or in discussions of the motherland is not explored in her works.

144 Maaynarif, no. 34 (1 Dhul-qaaynda 1317/March 3, 1900): 3. I want to stress the very significant public recognition accorded the subject of women's education by the mouthpiece of the Society of Education, an influential group in establishing schools and promoting education in Qajar Iran. In fact, these themes would recur in many newspapers published later during the constitutional period. This is more than an "oblique" reference, as Najmabadi claims in "Crafting an Educated Housewife," 103. For other aspects of education in modern Iran, see Monica Ringer, "Education and Reform in Qajar Iran, 1800–1906" (PhD dissertation, University of California, Los Angeles, 1998).

145 Hadid, no. 13 (25 Rajab 1323/September 25, 1905): 4.

146 Ibid., 6. On the same page, this article notes further that knowing that lack of sanitation causes diseases is important, since such ignorance breeds epidemics: "In India there is always plague, [whereas] the English, who maintain sanitary habits, do not become victims [of this disease]."

147 Hadid, no. 13 (25 Rajab 1323/September 25, 1905): 4.

148 These ideas would be institutionalized through the textbooks published and used in the late Qajar period. See Kashani-Sabet, Frontier Fictions, chap. 6, for more on this issue and for detailed discussions of the textbooks.

149 The two main journals published for women in the early twentieth century were Danish and Shikufah, and parts of these journals have recently been reprinted in Iran. See Shikufah bih Inzimam-i Danish (Tehran) (Fall 1377/1998). Danish began publication in 1910 under the editorship of Banu Kahhal, and Shikufah in 1912, under the editorship of Maryam Muzayyin al-Saltanah. For more on women and the Iranian press, see Camron Michael Amin, "The Attentions of the Great Father: Reza Shah, 'The Woman Question,' and the Iranian Press, 1890–1946" (PhD dissertation, University of Chicago, 1996).

150 Shikufah, no. 6 (8 Rabiayn al-Thani 1333/February 23, 1915): 4.

151 Danish, no. 14 (17 Muharram 1329/January 18, 1911): 2.

152 Shikufah, no. 21 (6 Muharram 1334/November 14, 1915): 1–2; and Shikufah, no. 1 (6 Muharram 1333/November 24, 1914): 2–3.

153 My current research focuses in part on the history of nursing in modern Iran.

154 Shikufah, no. 8 (13 Jumada al-Avval 1333/March 29, 1915): 2.

155 Shikufah, no. 15 (2 Shavval 1333/August 13, 1915): 1–4.

156 For other examples, see Najmabadi, "Erotic Vatan as Beloved and Mother."

157 Shikufah, no. 10 (14 Jumada al-Thani 1333/April 29, 1915): 4.

158 For an analysis of erotic love and the motherland, see Najmabadi, "Erotic Vatan as Beloved and Mother."

159 For an interesting study on these themes using Foucauldian analysis, see David Armstrong, Political Anatomy of the Body: Medical Knowledge in Britain in the Twentieth Century (Cambridge, 1983), xi, 1–18.

160 The legacy of humanism has endured in the modern Iranian intellectual tradition, affecting even the contemporary religious dogma of the Islamic Republic of Iran. In Islam, Liberty and Development, President Mohammad Khatami, not unlike his Qajar predecessors, draws on eighteenth-century Western Enlightenment thought and Islamic precepts to discuss the themes of science and civilization within a humanistic framework: "Of the many factors that spur the emergence, rise, and demise of civilizations, two are fundamental: the dynamism of the human mind and the concomitant surfacing of new needs and necessities in human life" (p. 50). While science has fulfilled many practical human exigencies, yet it "is impotent in addressing the metaphysical, philosophical, and mystical yearnings of humans" (p. 128). In grappling with the relationship between science and religion as well as the role of the individual in society, and admiring at once the seemingly contradictory traditions of European Enlightenment and Islamic ideology, Khatami has revived age-old questions about liberty, rationality, and social progress—fundamental tenets of Iranian humanism with which Qajar intellectuals struggled nearly a century earlier.


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