Episode II: Opulence and Oppression: The Qajar Dynasty Unveiled

Let’s turn back the clock to 19th-century Persia to examine the heart of the Qajar Dynasty, their absolute sovereignty, their remarkable decadence, and their chillingly ruthless tactics. Buckle up, friends, because this episode is going to be an unforgettable journey into the enigmatic and tumultuous world of Persian royalty.

Decadence and Despotism in the Qajar Dynasty

Imagine the image of an absolute monarch. What comes to mind? A king on a throne, issuing commands that must be obeyed without question. Power, wealth, extravagance. In theory, the king can do whatever he pleases; his word is law. Well, the Qajar Shahs of Persia, they not only fit this image but amplified it. They were the living embodiment of absolute monarchy, the epitome of autocracy, their words were the law of the land.

In their world, they were the Shahinshah, the King of Kings, the Zillu’llah, the Shadow of God, the Qibliy-i-‘Alam, the Centre of the Universe. Imagine that! The center of the universe, with the power to alter the fate of their subjects with a mere word. An intoxicating power, one that could easily lead to corruption and decadence.

And indeed, corruption was the order of the day. Half of the money allocated for projects disappeared into the pockets of corrupt officials. Half of the plans authorized by the Shah were never realized, the officials trusted with their execution hoping that the Shah’s infamous capriciousness would cause him to forget about their tasks.

However, the absolutism of the Shah did not just extend to the realm of politics and economics, it veered alarmingly into the personal. For these Shahs, their family was not a haven of love and security, but rather a breeding ground for potential rivals. They practiced the abominable system of blinding potential aspirants to the throne, often their own relatives. Savage mutilations, lifelong captivities, wanton slaughter, and systematic bloodshed were the norm. And all this under the shadow of the monarch who remained, at least in title, the “Well of Science” and the “Footpath of Heaven.”

The Qajar Shahs, particularly Fath-‘Ali Shah, were known for their enormous harems and their numerous offspring. The royal family became so large that it was said, “Camels, fleas, and princes exist everywhere.” The countless Shah-zadihs, descendants of a king, were placed in positions of power across Persia, and they were often no better than their royal forebears. In fact, they were seen as a curse on the country, draining the national treasury while offering little to nothing in return. The public detestation for the Qajar dynasty was pervasive.

Despite the obvious flaws in the system, the Shahs of Persia held onto their antiquated methods of governance. To borrow a phrase from a popular Persian saying, “The vice approved by the king becomes a virtue.” No written check existed on the royal prerogative. No democratic institution dared raise its irreverent head against the Shah.

But here’s what’s fascinating and tragic about this. Despite the rampant corruption, the brutality, the sheer decadence, the Shahs of Persia continued to be revered and even feared. Their subjects addressed them with phrases such as “May I be your sacrifice, Asylum of the Universe.” The Shahs themselves were often cut off from reality, receiving only a filtered version of the truth from their advisors. And while they sometimes had great plans for their country, their lack of control over their corrupt officials often meant that these plans never came to fruition.

History, as we often say, is the story of people. And the story of the Qajar Shahs of Persia is one of absolute power, brutal ruthlessness, and astonishing decadence. It’s a story that makes us question the very nature of power and governance.

Governance, Intrigue, and the Double-Edged Sword of Fear in the Qajar Dynasty

As we continue our exploration of 19th-century Persia, we start to see the picture of a state in a rather unique state of governance — one that could only be possible under the conditions of such a traditional and authoritarian regime as the Qajar Dynasty.

As we mentioned earlier, the Shah, or King, held the ultimate authority and command over the lives and property of his subjects. He was the central figure, the absolute despot with practically unchecked power. The ministers, his sons, even high-ranking officials, all could find their fortunes reversed at the king’s whim. Picture a pyramid, with the Shah at the top and the authority cascading down to the headman of a remote village.

And this is where we find an intriguing dynamic. At the top, the Shah holds supreme power. But what about those underneath? How did they function? As one might expect in a society with such a concentration of power, the fear of the Shah was a potent tool that kept the administrative machinery running. But as you can imagine, fear is a double-edged sword, effective, but potentially corrosive.

When you imagine a minister in the Qajar court, what comes to mind? According to Sir J. Malcolm, a respected scholar of the time, they were typically refined, adept at their work, and adept at pleasant conversation. However, beneath this agreeable exterior, often lay a different reality. Remember, these are people who have to navigate a world of courtly intrigue, where their survival might depend on their ability to please the Shah or outmaneuver a rival. Imagine being in a world where flattery and deceit are your daily language, where your livelihood relies on corrupt sources, where every interaction is a strategic dance. Can we blame them then, for being “venal, artful, and false”?

Malcolm’s observations show us the heartbreaking reality of what it meant to hold power under the Qajar Shahs. Even the most virtuous and talented ministers were compelled to compromise their principles to survive in this environment. As Malcolm notes, “unless where the confidence of their sovereign has placed them beyond the fear of rivals, necessity has compelled them to practice a subserviency and dissimulation at variance with the truth and integrity…”

But here’s the crux of it all — the only real check on the Shah’s power came from outside Persia’s borders. The Shah feared not the opinion of his own subjects, but that of the European press, the global opinion. It’s a fascinating paradox of globalized politics, that even in the most isolated and autocratic of nations, international opinion held such sway.

As we go forward, it becomes apparent that the Qajar Dynasty’s political structure was not merely a relic of the past. It was a complex, dynamic system, full of intrigue and paradoxes.

Corruption and Exploitation of The People in the Qajar Dynasty

So we discussed the monarchical rule, a complex political hierarchy under the Shah’s autocratic control. Now, let’s shift our gaze downwards — towards the very people who populated this intriguing the decadent world of 19th-century Persia.

In Persia, the central and differentiating feature of their administration — indeed their life — was, quite simply, an interchange of presents. Yes, you heard it right, an entire administrative system that revolved around the art of gift-giving. This might seem quaint, a charming relic of a bygone era, and indeed in some social aspects, this could even be seen as an illustration of the generous sentiments of a warm and amiable people.

But what do you do when this generous sentiment transmutes into an official policy, when a gift is not just a gift but a means to secure a political favor or position? As our sources explain, there’s an almost grim unemotional side to this practice.

In this system, receiving a gift is not just an act of grace. It places you in debt, not only to the donor, from whom an equivalent return is expected, but also to the bearer of the gift, who must be rewarded according to the value of the gift. The “gift” starts looking quite a lot like a transaction, doesn’t it?

This culture of gift-giving — or rather, shall we say, this “system of exchange” — permeates the entire governmental structure. From the Shah down to the lowest officials, posts were essentially bought with presents. The best position did not necessarily go to the most capable or deserving, but rather to the one who could offer the most lavish gift.

This brings us to an interesting term, “madakhil.” It signifies a balance of personal advantage, usually in the form of money, derived from every transaction. It’s a word with no precise English equivalent though the word bribe comes to mind. Imagine a society where every interaction, every favor, every service, has a price tag attached.

The beauty of a gift is that it’s voluntary, a spontaneous act of generosity. But when that spontaneity is replaced with obligation, the gift loses its charm. Instead, what we have here is a system of universal cupidity, where people are rewarded not for their virtues but for their ability to exploit.

In this climate, is it surprising that public offices became the common avenues to wealth? Is it surprising that men who started with nothing could amass enough wealth to live in princely style? This is a society where a man’s worth is measured not by his character or deeds, but by his wealth — wealth that more often than not, was wrung from the sweat of hardworking peasants.

And the drain on resources was not limited to the act of bribery itself. One striking feature of public life in Persia was the large number of attendants and retainers surrounding an official. These people were not on the official payroll. They attached themselves to their masters, not out of loyalty, but for the opportunities of extortion that such connection afforded them. This swarm of blood-suckers, as our sources term them, constituted a significant drain on the nation’s resources.

So, where does this leave us? We’re looking at a society that thrived on display and greed, where positions were bought, not earned, where everyone was out to line their pockets at the expense of others, where the very act of gift-giving, something so innately human, was perverted into an act of transaction. And through it all, the common people, the peasants, bore the brunt of this corruption.

Is this starting to sound all too familiar? Feel like we’ve left the past and returned to the present? Well, hopefully after we’ve arrived at the end of The Dawning Light you’ll have more hope for humanity…

The Interplay of Religion, Law, and Society in The Qajar Dynasty

So far we’ve covered the complex administrative system of the Qajar Dynasty, which was centered around a culture of gift-giving and political favors. But to truly understand any society, one must delve into the depths of its beliefs and religion, which weaves its threads through every aspect of life — influencing culture, traditions, law, and governance.

So, let’s understand the powerful influence of Islam in Persia under the Qajar Dynasty.

Islam was not just a religion for the Persians. It was an all-encompassing way of life — a creed that guided not just the spiritual, but also the political, social, and intellectual lives of its adherents. The idea of a “church state” may seem alien to us, but it was a reality in Persia, where the undergirders of society were primarily ecclesiastical. The Musulman — the devout follower of Islam — lived in surrender to this powerful system, accepting and even embracing its rules without question, and deriving comfort and certainty from the promise of Paradise.

This fervor, however, had its downsides. The Siyyids, descendants of the Prophet, used their esteemed lineage and the privilege of the green turban to assert an air of insolence and independence. They became a thorn in the side of the people, causing suffering not just for foreigners but also their fellow countrymen.

Then, we have the Jewish community. Marginalized and persecuted, they were often the scapegoats during outbursts of bigotry. Forced to live in separate quarters, or Ghettos, they suffered various social and occupational restrictions. This, along with their impoverished state, cast them as social pariahs in their own homeland. Despite this, they persisted, living their lives in the shadow of constant persecution.

One peculiar aspect of this religious influence was the practice of temporary marriages in Mashhad. Pilgrims journeying to the city were allowed to contract temporary marriages with the resident women, under the sanction of the Church. These “marriages” could last a fortnight, a month, depending on the agreement, after which the contract would dissolve, and both parties could go their separate ways. The women would then wait for fourteen days before resuming this cycle with another pilgrim. This practice, sanctioned by the Church, was essentially a well-organized system of prostitution, creating a moral quandary within the supposedly sacred city.

Finally, let’s talk about the legal system, a facet of society that truly reflected the darkest aspects of Persian character. The laws were ruthless and the punishments horrifying. The list of execution methods reads like a horror story, people were crucified, impaled, shod like horses, blown apart by canons, torn apart by trees, buried alive, flayed alive, burned alive, and other methods so gruesome they’ll turn your insides out. Persian torture techniques are truly the stuff of nightmares. Nightmares that became reality for many of the early followers of the Bab and Baha’u’llah.

This combination of corrupt administration and a brutal, unpredictable legal system eroded public confidence in the government. The lack of any sense of duty, honor, mutual trust, or national spirit created a society resistant to progress and reform. As Lord Curzon stated, it was not enough to provide material infrastructure and modern amenities. The true challenge was reaching the core of the Persian people, giving a radical twist to the national character and institutions.

Shi’ah Islam and The Imamate

Now, let’s explore the core tenets of Shi’ah Islam, a branch of Islam known for its distinct beliefs and intricate history.

In the vast mosaic that is Islam, the Shi’ahs, or Shiites, occupy a distinct place. In a religion with well over a billion adherents, the Shi’ahs account for about 15–20 percent of the Muslim population worldwide. But, boy do they punch above their weight when it comes to their impact on the history of the Islamic world.

The Shi’ahs disagree with their Sunni sisters and brothers primarily on the matter of succession to the Prophet Muhammad, or what is called the Imamate. While Sunnis believe that the succession of the Prophet is a matter of consensus and election by the Ummah, the community of believers, the Shi’ahs hold a very different view.

In the Shi’ah belief, the Imamate is a spiritual office, divinely ordained and handed down through the lineage of the Prophet Muhammad. It isn’t a political position open to democratic selection, but a position of divine wisdom, spiritual leadership, and absolute authority, conferred only upon those chosen by God.

Shi’ahs follow the line of twelve Imams, who were spiritual leaders and direct descendants of the Prophet Muhammad. Beginning with Ali-ibn-i-Abi-Talib, the son-in-law of Muhammad, this line of succession, known as the Twelve Imams, unfolds a gripping narrative that dramatically intertwines divine belief, brutal power struggles, and the enduring hope of redemption.

Each Imam in the line of succession met a tragic end, most often poisoned or killed on the orders of the ruling caliphs who felt threatened by their claim to the Imamate. These deaths often sent seismic waves through the Shi’ah community, the reverberations of which continue to shape Shi’ah traditions and rituals today. Consider the Day of Ashura, for instance, which commemorates the death of the Imam Husayn, the third Imam, in the Battle of Karbala.

Intriguingly, the line of succession does not end with the physical death of the twelfth Imam, Muhammad al-Mahdi, or Imam Mahdi. According to Shi’ah tradition, Imam Mahdi did not die but went into a state of occultation or hidden existence. It’s held that he will one day return, in a time when the world is filled with injustice, to establish a reign of peace and justice.

This concept of the Hidden Imam is a key distinguishing feature of Shi’ah Islam, a beacon of hope that continues to guide the community through periods of turbulence and despair.

Of course, like any complex belief system, the details, the interpretation, the impact, they are all subjects of intense discussion, debate, and yes, at times, conflict. And that’s just one more reason why this journey into the heart of Shi’ah Islam is so incredibly compelling.

The Dual Legal System of 19th-Century Persia

Now that we’ve established the general perspective of the Shi’ahs and their theological views, let’s switch gears and take a look at a completely different aspect of their society: the legal system. To say that it’s a complex web of traditions, religious scriptures, precedents, and what some may describe as… well, whims, would be an understatement.

You see, in the middle of the nineteenth century, the Persian legal system, and indeed among most Muslim communities, was bifurcated into two broad categories — the Shar’, or Ecclesiastical Law, based on the holy Quran and the opinions of the Twelve Holy Imams, and the Urf, or Common Law, which relied more on tradition, precedent and societal customs.

The Ecclesiastical Law, the Shar’, was a theological giant. It leaned heavily on the Quran, the divine word of the Prophet, the wisdom of the twelve Imams whose words held sacred weight, and the interpretations of leading religious jurists. Much like the role of legal scholars in Roman law or Talmudic commentators in Hebrew law, these ecclesiastical jurists played an important role in interpreting and expanding the religious law.

Shar’ was not just a system of rules, but a detailed guide to life divided into four sections: religious rites and duties, contracts and obligations, personal affairs, and rules around conduct and judicial procedure. The ecclesiastical courts were manned by mullas, mujtahids, and occasionally qadis or judges, presided over by the Shaykhu’l-Islam, appointed by the sovereign to each large city.

Now here’s where it gets a bit… blurry. Theoretically, criminal cases were to be decided by the ecclesiastical courts, while civil cases were for the secular courts. Butx in practice, this distinction was often far from clear.

Then we come to the Urf, the Common Law, which varies from place to place. It’s influenced by local customs, traditions and precedents, but there isn’t a written code. As a result, how it’s enforced can depend heavily on the individual administering it. It’s administered by civil magistrates at various levels. At the village level, it’s the kad-khuda or headman. In towns, it’s the darughih or police magistrate. And more serious cases would make their way to the hakim or the town’s governor.

Now, remember, this system is not known for its consistency or predictability. It was prone to caprice, inconsistency and, sadly, corruption. Publicity was often the only guarantee of fairness, but with bribes and gifts changing hands behind the scenes, justice could often be swayed. As Lord Curzon puts it, the darugis were known to be harsh and venal, with allegations that most officials, even in higher ranks, could be influenced by… ahem… a monetary consideration.

The Bab’s Family Connections Across Shi’ah Islam, The Qajar Dynasty, and The Baha’i Faith

So now that we’ve navigated the rough waters of Shi’ah legal systems, let’s shift our focus to something equally complex but in a different way: genealogy. More specifically, the genealogy of the Bab, the founder of the Babi religion, a precursor to the Baha’i Faith. What’s interesting about the Bab’s family tree, aside from the illustrious personalities it houses, are the connections it forms across different strands of Shi’ah Islam and Persian society.

Let’s start with the Bab himself. Born in the Persian city of Shiraz, the Bab was a direct descendant of the Imam Husayn. Imam Husayn is a significant figure in Islam, particularly within Shi’ah, as the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, and his martyrdom holds a central place in the Faith’s narrative.

Moving through the Bab’s family tree, we come across a litany of interesting personalities, each contributing a piece to this vast tapestry.

One of them, known as Afnan-i-Kabir, is an intriguing figure. The term ‘Afnan’ actually refers to the relatives of the Bab, but the title ‘Kabir’ elevates this person to a place of prominence within the family.

And then there’s Khal-i-Asghar, the addressee of the Bab’s work, the Kitab-i-Iqan, a central piece of Baha’i literature. On the other side of the coin is Khal-i-A’zam, one of the Seven Martyrs of Tihran, who sacrificed their lives for their faith, a poignant example of the struggles these early followers had to endure.

Another noteworthy character is “Vakilu’d-Dawlih,” the chief builder of the Mashriqu’l-Adhkar in Ishqabad, a Baha’i house of worship.

And we also have figures like Abdu’l-Baha’s son-in-law, who serves as a link to the central figures of the Baha’i faith, showing the interconnectedness of these spiritual movements.

To make matters more complex, let’s juxtapose this with the Qajar Dynasty, which ruled Persia during a substantial part of the Bab’s life and beyond. The Qajar Dynasty was an influential force in shaping the socio-political landscape of the time. Names like Fath-‘Ali Shah, Muhammad Shah, and Nasiri’d-Din Shah represent the royal framework against which the Bab and his followers navigated.

Add to that mix significant personalities like Mirza Taqi Khan Amir-Nizam, Mirza Aqa Khan-i-Nuri, and Haji Mirza Aqasi, who served as key political figures under the Qajar dynasty. They played substantial roles in shaping the period’s political and social scene, and their actions and decisions significantly affected the fate of the Bab and his followers.

It’s a bit like navigating a spider’s web, isn’t it? Each strand connected to the other, some stretching across vast spans of time and space, but all converging in a complex tapestry of faith, politics, and societal dynamics.

And that’s the beauty of studying history. These genealogies and dynasties, they are not just names on a page or a lineage chart. They are stories of struggle, faith, power, sacrifice, and transformation. They are the roadmap to understanding the forces that shaped the world of the Bab and, in a larger context, the world we live in today.

From Darkness to Dawn

So, there you have it, we’ve journeyed through the sinuous intrigues of the Qajar Dynasty, delved into the depths of the double-edged sword of fear and governance, and explored the heartbreaking tales of corruption and exploitation that marred this era. We’ve glimpsed into the dual legal system of 19th-century Persia and marveled at the interplay of religion, law, and society. And in the midst of all this, we’ve observed the complexities and connections of the Bab’s family across Shi’ah Islam, the Qajar Dynasty, and the Baha’i Faith.

We’ve seen the rise and fall of rulers, the struggle for power, and the constant evolution of spiritual ideologies. We’ve traversed the tumultuous waters of despotism and decadence, and faced the brutal realities of the past. Through all this, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed, to get lost in the swirling chaos of history.

But remember, the night is always darkest just before the dawn. And dawn is precisely what we’re about to witness. Our journey is leading us to a transformative era, where we’ll encounter figures who brought not just rays of hope, but a radiant dawn to a world steeped in turmoil.

Theirs are stories of resilience, of enlightenment, of revolutionizing not just religious thought, but societal norms. They serve as guiding stars in our expedition, showing us the power of faith and the indomitable human spirit even amidst the harshest trials. Their stories remind us that from the ashes of the old, the new rises — often brighter, bolder, and brimming with hope.

So, as we close this chapter of our journey, remember: while history often tells tales of darkness, it is equally rich with narratives of redemption and renewal. It shows us that no matter how dire the circumstances, the human spirit finds a way to rise, to innovate, to change and challenge. And that’s the beautiful paradox of history: it’s not just a tale of our past, but also a beacon guiding us towards a hopeful future.

So, join us next time as we step into a new dawn, exploring the extraordinary lives and profound influence of these guiding lights who history remembers as the Dawn-Breakers.

This concludes the second episode of The Dawning Light. I’m Danilo Stern-Sapad, and I thank you for your time.

If you have any corrections, suggestions, questions, or other constructive feedback, please contact me.

I value your input and am committed to ensuring both the accuracy and reverence of The Dawning Light.

This post was originally published at https://thedawninglight.org/episodes/episode-2-opulence-oppression/ on July 2, 2023.