New Texts Out Now: Nelly Hanna, Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600-1800)

[Cover of Nelly Hanna, \"Artistan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600-1800)\"] [Cover of Nelly Hanna, \"Artistan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600-1800)\"]

New Texts Out Now: Nelly Hanna, Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600-1800)

By : Nelly Hanna

Nelly Hanna, Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600-1800). Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 2011.

Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book, and what particular topics, issues, and literatures does it address?

Nelly Hanna (NH): The book is part of a large body of literature that deals with the artisans and guilds of the Ottoman Empire. Scholars have written about artisans in Istanbul, Bursa, Aleppo, and Jerusalem (including Suraiya Faroqhi, Abdul Karim Rafeq, Haim Gerber, and others). More specifically, my work on with the artisans in Cairo follows the same tradition as the work of two other scholars, namely Andre Raymond, whose work was fundamental in showing the socio-economic status of artisans and their changing relations to the Mamluk class, and Pascale Ghazaleh.

One of the issues the book tackles is how to study artisans and guilds, not only in the context of a traditional society and economy, but rather in the context of a period which was undergoing significant changes (1600-1800), due to both local and to regional conditions.

The approach it uses is that of “history from below,” since one of the questions that it addresses is how to define a role for these artisans and guilds in the context of the prevailing commercial conditions of the period, but also as a source of developments in the nineteenth century. The book also addresses the core-periphery model of the world systems approach and attempts to include artisans in this model. In other words, rather than discuss the core-periphery model solely in relation to merchants and commercial activity, it incorporates artisans and their products into the model.

Thus on the one hand it deals, at a micro level, with the individual lives of artisans, following the lives of a few artisan families over several generations, focusing on their work and on their relations to guilds and the economy, as well as to their families and colleagues. At the macro level, these artisans are placed in the context of the broad global and regional changes of the period 1600-1800, namely the greater world trade and more intensive commercial exchanges taking place worldwide. By combining these two different levels, links could be made between the local and the global, between the artisans who worked their product and the expanding horizons of international trade. 

The question around which the book revolves is how these artisans fared in the light of these conditions. The book comes up with the idea of “trade without periphery,” a term to describe the period as one during which the region as a whole underwent a certain level of commercialization, but did not undergo the peripheralization of its economy, as happened in the nineteenth century. The same concept could be applied to other regions, such as other parts of the Ottoman Empire or India, which experienced similar conditions, and where commercialization brought about a certain social mobility, both upwards and downwards.

J: How does this work connect to and/or depart from your previous research and writing?

NH: I have an interest in the economy, and my earlier book (Making Big Money in 1600) focused on merchants and international trade in the seventeenth century. Like this book and my other book, In Praise of Books, individual lives are placed at the fore, and they are part and parcel of the important changes that take place in society. Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo does the same, except that this time the focus is on artisans rather than merchants. This latest work tries to develop a methodology that aims at placing artisans and guilds within the economy, as producers of goods that were in demand, at times locally, at other times regionally. In other words, we need to rethink the term “traditional economy” so that there is space for some agency for artisans.

J: Who do you hope will read this book, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

NH: I believe the book will be of interest to historians of the Ottoman Empire; world historians who are interested in the early modern period and especially those who are interested in integrating lower level groups (artisans and craftsmen) in their models of global change; and economic historians who are interested in exploring the sources of modern economies. I also think that the book would be of interest to historians of India and Asia, as I make numerous comparisons with Indian and Asian history, particularly in relation to the growing commercialization of the period, which affected large parts of the globe.

It can serve as a book for graduate seminars, and parts could also be assigned to undergraduates.

Excerpts from Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early-Modern Capitalism (1600-1800)

From the Introduction:

Objectives: This study aims at filling in some of the blanks on this subject and exploring artisans at a number of levels. One of these levels is to formulate an approach to study artisans in the context of “history from below.”[1] The study aims to explore those that have not had enough visibility in historical studies, and to give them agency; in other words to incorporate them in history. Rather than only study artisans as part of a traditional society or traditional economy, the study explores alternative channels. It asks, for instance, if one can perceive them as actors within local, regional, and world history and in the context of historical processes; if and how artisans may have had a role, influenced trends or had an impact on these processes, if and how they were affected, or they were part of, the changes between 1600 and 1800, if in other words they were part of the historical process. The relationship between local economy and world economy has been studied by historians writing on various regions of the Ottoman Empire. James Reilly and Faruk Tabaq, for example, focused on nineteenth century merchants and explored the interaction between local economies in Ottoman lands and developments in the world economy.[2] The present study uses the same frame, but applies it, firstly, to an earlier period and, secondly, it focuses on artisans rather than merchants.

In doing so, it will implicitly address the issue of Egypt’s passage to modernity and ask if artisans had a role in this process. A dominant trend in scholarship has tended to associate modernity with reforming rulers, with colonialist policies or with Europeanized elites in the nineteenth century. We propose to attempt to find some answers to this question by looking both back in time to the eighteenth century and earlier, and lower down in the social strata to artisans involved in production. This is not a claim to give artisans the exclusive role or an attempt to exclude any other group from this process. The members of the military ruling class as well as merchants were important actors in some of the transformations of the period. Rather, we ask where to place artisans in this process, to find out if they may have shaped the way Egypt entered the nineteenth century or the direction it may have taken. One needs to look for the impact from below, for the social forces that may have helped to either bring about some of these changes or influenced the direction that they took. This kind of question has the aim of trying to integrate artisans in some of the broader historical trends of the period, such as the intensification of world trade currents; and in some of the regional trends, like the changing balance of power between the core and the periphery of the Ottoman Empire.

***

The study aims to explore those that have not had enough visibility in historical studies, and to give them agency; in other words to incorporate them in history. Rather than only study artisans as part of a traditional society or traditional economy, the study explores alternative channels. It asks, for instance, if one can perceive them as actors within local, regional and world history and in the context of historical processes; if and how artisans may have had a role, influenced trends or had an impact on these processes, if and how they were affected, or they were part of, the changes between 1600 and 1800, if in other words they were part of the historical process.

From Chapter Three:

Jalfi’s life story, which can be followed for some forty years in court records, shows how his father started as an artisan; how his own activities overlapped three economic spheres, oil-production, trade, and tax-collection. Finally, his life also illustrates another important dimension, notably the way that his economic activity had an impact on his close family, his kin, and his extended family, and the other way round, how family was used to reach certain economic goals. Thus the intermingling of economy, culture, and society, of his private life, his work life, all these combine to show us how the different aspects are connected to each other and the importance of considering not only the economy but also its relation to the other dimensions. In addition to this, the life trajectory shows that, in spite of his dramatic rise in status and wealth, Jalfi remained closely linked to his guild and was guild head for many years. In other words, the various economic spheres were combined.

The combination of the various modes is what constitutes the most interesting aspect of this mobility, precisely because it has an element of hybridity. At the time that Ahmad al-Jalfi died, what appears from reading the details of his inheritance is a person that one could place in the category of merchants. At the level of his patterns of work, of marriage, and so on, the interpenetration of more than one mode becomes apparent. If one includes in the picture not only Ahmad al-Jalfi the individual but also his family, nuclear and extended, as well as his mamluks, the people who worked for him, in short his circle or milieu, the combination of various modes is also obvious: artisan mode, slave or mamluk modes, capitalist mode. The way marriage alliances could be used as tool to further economic ends can also be shown. The marriage of his daughters into mamluk circles, notably to his own mamluks who rose in rank in the regiments, is one example of the way political alliances consolidated economic achievements.

As we follow the family over a number of decades, his children, his mamluks, who worked in the oil-press and who married his daughters, we find that part of the family were artisans and the other part belonged to the mamluk set-up while others still had a foot in both worlds, the world of artisans and the world of military mamluks. We can consequently explore the impact of these diverse modes on the lives of the different Jalfis. His life trajectory not only illustrates the way he moved between different economic spheres, but his family and personal life as well reflected the different combination of styles and modes.

The Jalfis thus absorbed two cultures, mamluk and indigenous, and two economies, an artisan economy, an entrepreneurial economy and a ruling class economy which was based more on tax grants, that is, on the obtention of iltizams. Moreover, the Jalfis, through their leadership of the guild of masaranis, were able to bring under their own hierarchy some other auxiliary guilds. Through the years that one can follow members of the Jalfi family in the court records, the mobility touched not only a rise up the social and military scale; it touched on other aspects of his life as he moved from artisanal production to commerce to tax grants; and through this emerges the interpenetration of civilian and military; of slave and free.

Notes:
[1] Donald Quataert, “Labor History and the Ottoman Empire, c. 1700-1922,” International Labor and Working Class History 60 (Fall 2001): 93-109.
[2] James Reilly, “Damascus Merchants and Trade in the Transition to Capitalism,” Canadian Journal of History 27 (April 1992): 1-27; Faruk Tabaq, “Local Merchants in Peripheral Areas of the Empire: The Fertile Crescent During the Long Nineteenth Century,” Review 11 (1988): 179-214.

[Excerpted from Artisan Entrepreneurs in Cairo and Early Modern Capitalism (1600–1800), by Nelly Hanna, by permission of the author. Copyright © 2011 by Syracuse University Press. For more information, or to purchase this book, please click here.]

New Texts Out Now: Betty S. Anderson, The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education

Betty S. Anderson, The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2011.

Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book?

Betty S. Anderson (BSA): I always joke that I conceived the project in the pool of the Carlton Hotel in Beirut. In June 2000, I visited Beirut for the first time so I could attend an Arab American University Graduate (AAUG) conference. One day, I walked with some friends all along the Corniche and up through the American University of Beirut (AUB) campus and then back to the hotel. Since it was late June and ridiculously hot, the only option at that point was to jump in the pool as quickly as possible. Two minutes in the pool and the thought occurred to me that my next research project was going to have to be about Beirut in some way. I had fallen in love with the city in just that one day. A half second later, I thought, I should write a history of AUB.

Besides the fact that I wanted to get back to Beirut as soon as possible, I wanted to know why AUB had been so influential in politicizing its students. At the time, I was doing additional research for my book on Jordan (Nationalist Voices in Jordan: The Street and the State) and a number of the political activists I studied had attended AUB. Their memoirs were filled with explanations and stories about how important those four years were for the development of their political identities. However, I had no idea as I floated in the pool that day that I’d have to do extensive research on Protestant missionaries and education long before I could even get to those Arab nationalists. At the time, I really knew relatively little about the school’s history.

J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures does it address?

BSA: When I finally got back to Beirut in 2004, it was research on the educational systems offered at the Syrian Protestant College and AUB that eventually ended up directing my thesis. I was struck initially by the goals the American founders and their successors set for the school. They talked more about the transformative process they wanted the students to undertake than the course options they were offering. For example, Daniel Bliss (1866-1902) preached about producing Protestants who understood not only the liturgy but the lifestyle required of one converting to this faith; Bayard Dodge (1923-1948) exhorted students to follow the model of the modern American man as they sought to develop new characters for themselves. The former presided over a missionary educational system, the latter the new liberal education system then being formulated back in America. The first half of the book discusses this shift as the American University of Beirut was renamed in 1920.

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[Main gate of AUB campus. Photo by Betty S. Anderson.]

Liberal education, as American educators developed it in the second half of the nineteenth century, asks its students to be active participants in their educational experience. Before this point, professors taught their students a fixed body of knowledge; students were required to memorize and recite the data to prove that they had learned it. In liberal education, the system asks that professors teach students how to think and analyze so they can produce data on their own.

The second half of the book examines how the students reacted to this shifting pedagogical focus. The American leaders of the school repeatedly stated their goals for the students, and most books and articles on AUB focus on only those voices. However, that stance leaves out an important element of the AUB story, because only the students can truly determine whether the programs are effective. AUB is famous for the many student protests that have taken place on campus, starting with the Darwin Affair of 1882, leading to the Muslim Controversy of 1909, and then on to the large protests of the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s. As I discovered when I delved into the archives, students used dozens of newspapers to explain why they were protesting. The catalyst was always a particular event, on campus or off, but the students always framed their arguments around the freedom they felt the liberal education system promised. They fought against any administrative attempts to curtail their actions and frequently accused the administration of not following the guidelines set by American liberal education. This issue became increasingly contentious as students worked to define an Arab nationalism that called on them to be politically active while on campus. The administration continually opposed this position, and many of the student-administrative conflicts centered on the differing definitions of freedom put forward on campus. I put “Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education” in the subtitle of the book because by the twentieth century, these were the two dominant elements defining the relationship between the students and the administration.

J: How does this work connect to and/or depart from your previous research and writing?

BSA: Most of my work has centered on education in one form or another. In my book on Jordan, I wrote of the politicizing role high schools in Jordan and Palestine, as well as schools like AUB, played in mobilizing a national opposition movement in the 1950s. I have published a number of articles analyzing the narratives the Jordanian and Lebanese states present to their students in history and Islamic textbooks. Moving on to a comprehensive study of one particularly influential school was a natural progression. The difference was that I now had to study American education in the same way I had previously examined the influence of education in the Middle East.

J: Who do you hope will read this book, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

BSA: I hope AUB alumni want to read the book and, equally, that they find something of their story in it. I did not want to cite just the Americans who founded and ran the school; I purposely wanted to write about the students themselves. Typical university histories leave out the words and actions of the students in favor of hagiographies about the founders and their famous successors. I also hope that scholars and students interested in studies of education and nationalism will be interested. This is a book that addresses both Middle Eastern and American studies.

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[Assembly Hall and College Hall, AUB Campus. Photos by Betty S. Anderson.]

J: What other projects are you working on now?

BSA:
I have a contract with Stanford University Press to publish a book called State and Society in the Modern Middle East. Like with anyone who undertakes to write a textbook, I am frustrated with those that are currently available. Textbooks of the modern Middle East typically focus just on state formation, the actions of the chief politicians, and the political interplay between states. My text focuses instead on the relationship between state and society as it developed over the last two hundred years. The states in the region centralized in the nineteenth century, faced colonialism in the early twentieth century, and then independence after World War II; these stages created new roles for state leaders. Civil society, in the broadest definition of the term, emerged from the eighteenth century forward as people sought new ways to organize within and against the states now intruding on their lives. They took advantage of the new institutions the states built to establish for themselves new class, national, and gender definitions, while frequently opposing the states that had introduced these very institutions. My text examines how schools, government offices, newspapers, political parties, and women’s groups constantly negotiated new relationships with their respective states.

Excerpt from The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education

From Chapter One:

"The great value of education does not consist in the accepting this and that to be true but it consists in proving this and that to be true," declared Daniel Bliss, founder of Syrian Protestant College (SPC; 1866–1920) and its president from 1866 to 1902, in his farewell address. President Howard Bliss (president, 1902–1920) said in his baccalaureate sermon in 1911, "In a word, the purpose of the College is not to produce singly or chiefly men who are doctors, men who are pharmacists, men who are merchants, men who are preachers, teachers, lawyers, editors, statesmen; but it is the purpose of the College to produce doctors who are men, pharmacists who are men, merchants who are men, preachers, teachers, lawyers, editors, statesmen who are men." Bayard Dodge (1923–1948) stated at his inauguration as president of the newly renamed American University of Beirut (AUB; 1920– ), "We do not attempt to force a student to absorb a definite quantity of knowledge, but we strive to teach him how to study. We do not pretend to give a complete course of instruction in four or five years, but rather to encourage the habit of study, as a foundation for an education as long as life itself." The successors to these men picked up the same themes when they elaborated on the school`s goals over the years; most recently, in May 2009, President Peter Dorman discussed his vision of AUB’s role. "AUB thrives today in much different form than our missionary founders would have envisioned, but nonetheless—after all this time—it remains dedicated to the same ideal of producing enlightened and visionary leaders."

In dozens of publications, SPC and AUB students have also asserted a vision of the transformative role the school should have on their lives. The longest surviving Arab society on campus, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa, published a magazine of the same name during most academic years between 1923 and 1954 and as of 1936 stated as its editorial policy the belief that "the magazine`s writing is synonymous with the Arab student struggle in the university." From that point forward, the editors frequently listed the society`s Arab nationalist goals. In the fall 1950 edition, for example, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa`s Committee on Broadcasting and Publications issued a statement identifying the achievement of Arab unity as the most important goal because "it is impossible to separate the history, literature and scientific inheritance of the Arabs" since "the Arab essence is unity." Toward this end, al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa pledged to accelerate the "growth of the true nationalist spirit" among the students affiliated with the organization. In describing education as an activist pursuit, the statement declares, "To achieve political ideas which are aimed at our nationalism it is necessary for we as students to seek information by many different means." In this call, the AUB Arab students must take on the task of studying the Arab heritage as thoroughly and frankly as possible so that when they graduate they can move into society with solutions to the many problems plaguing the Arab world.

Since the school`s founding in 1866, its campus has stood at a vital intersection between a rapidly changing American missionary and educational project to the Middle East and a dynamic quest for Arab national identity and empowerment. As the presidential quotes indicate, the Syrian Protestant College and the American University of Beirut imported American educational systems championing character building as their foremost goal. Proponents of these programs hewed to the belief that American educational systems were the perfect tools for encouraging students to reform themselves and improve their societies; the programs do not merely supply professional skills but educate the whole person. As the quotes from al-`Urwa al-Wuthqa attest, Arab society pressured the students to change as well. The Arab nahda, or awakening, of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries called on students to take pride in their Arab past and to work to recreate themselves as modern leaders of their society; the Arab nationalist movement of the twentieth century asked that students take a lead in fighting for Arab independence from foreign control. The students streaming through the Main Gate year after year used both of these American and Arab elements to help make the school not only an American institution but also one of the Arab world and of Beirut, as the very name, the American University of Beirut, indicates. This process saw long periods of accommodation between the American-led administration and the Arab students, but just as many eras when conflict raged over the nature of authority each should wield on campus; the changing relationship between the administration and the students serves as the cornerstone of this book, for it is here where much of the educational history of SPC and AUB has been written.

From Chapter Five:

The 1952 April Fool’s Day issue of Outlook (called Lookout on that day) satirized the proliferation of student protests that had dominated campus life for the previous few years. In the paper’s lead article, the author declared, “A School of Revolutionary Government, designed to equip AUB students with a wide knowledge of modern techniques of conspiracy and revolution, is to be opened during the fall semester, a communique from the President’s Office announced late Friday.” Continuing the same theme, the article reports, “All courses will include a minimum of three lab hours to be spent in street battles with gendarmes and similar applications of theories learned in classrooms.” President Stephen Penrose (1948-1954), the article stated, gave a Friday morning chapel talk on the new school motto: “That they may have strife and have it more abundantly.” In a further announcement, the paper described the day’s protest.

There will be a demonstration this afternoon at three in front of the Medical Gate to object against everything[.] All those interested please report there promptly five [minutes] before time. The demonstration promises to be very exciting—tear gas will be used, and the slogans are simply delightful. If all goes well, police interference is expected. If not to join, come and watch.

This, of course, had not been the first era of student protest; the difference by the 1950s was the widespread and sustained nature of the conflict between the administration and the students. When Lookout published its satirical articles in 1952, students had been organizing demonstrations in support of Palestinians and Moroccans, and against any and all things imperialist, since 1947; these events only petered out in 1955 as the administration banned the two main groups organizing them, the Student Council and the Arab society, al-cUrwa al-Wuthqa. Students engaged in these exercises explicitly as Arabs, proud of their past, and striving toward cultural, political and economic unity in the future. In their actions, students sought to integrate their educational experiences at AUB with the real-life events taking place outside the Main Gate, for only then did they feel they could be trained to function as the vanguard initiating the necessary changes in their society.

[Excerpted from Betty S. Anderson, The American University of Beirut: Arab Nationalism and Liberal Education. © 2011 by The University of Texas Press. Excerpted by permission of the author. For more information, or to order the book, click here.]