400 years ago, Shah ʻAbbas of Persia (r.1587-1629) began sending ambassadors to Europe to negotiate the trade in Persian silk with the West. To symbolise the purpose of these journeys, they came to Europe dressed in the finest silk garments of their time.
The ornate costume of one particular envoy was carefully documented in a full length portrait by Richard Greenbury. The portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg was commissioned by the English East India Company in 1626, and is today part of the British Library’s historic India Office Collections. Naqd ʻAli Beg’s silk garments reflected his aim to secure the Persian silk trade with the East India Company in London. The portrait shows him wearing a magnificent iridescent gown, which contrasts with his turban and cummerbund. Over top of the gown he wears a golden robe, intricately woven with human figures.
The portrait is a spectacular record of how these Persian trade envoys dressed, but it also shows a doomed man. Naqd ʻAli Beg’s trade embassy ended in disaster at the Stuart Court of King James I. He was confronted by a rival ambassador, and a fight broke out between the two men. Both men were told to leave London, and during the journey back to Persia in 1627, Naqd ʻAli Beg committed suicide (see my recent post 'Stitched up with silk').
The Shah of Persia continued to send exotically dressed envoys to Europe, often with chaotic results. According to Axel Langer, the curator of ‘The Fascination of Persia’ at the Rietberg Museum, ‘quarrelling and misunderstandings within the delegations, their strange habits and customs, to say nothing of the Persian ambassadors’ various amorous entanglements, provided a steady stream of gossip. But the foreigners were also an inspiration for artists.’
For the first time ever, the British Library’s portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg has left London, to be exhibited alongside other pictures of Persian trade envoys who journeyed to the West in the 17th and 18th centuries. ‘The Fascination of Persia’ is being held at the Rietberg Museum, until 12 January 2014. The exhibition looks at the relationship between Persia and the West right up to the current day. Funding for the conservation of the portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg was donated by the Friends of the British Library. The exhibition also includes a painting (Bahram Gur kills the dragon) by the Safavid artist Muhammad Zaman dated 1675/76 from the Library's copy of Shah Tahmasp's Khamsa (see our recent post 'Some paintings by the 17th century Safavid artist Muhammad Zaman').
Further reading Canby, Sheila. Shah ‘Abbas. The Remaking of Iran. London: British Museum Press, 2009. Langer, Axel. The Fascination of Persia. Zurich: Scheidegger & Spiess, 2013. Priscilla Soucek and Muhammad Isa Waley, “The Nizāmī manuscript of Shāh Tahmāsp: a reconstructed history.” In J.-C. Bürgel and C. van Ruymbeke (eds.), A Key to the Treasure of the Hakim: artistic and humanistic aspects of Nizāmī Ganjavī’s Khamsa (Leiden 2011), pp. 195-210.
Priscilla Soucek and Muhammad Isa Waley, “The Nizāmī manuscript of Shāh Tahmāsp: a reconstructed history.” In J.-C. Bürgel and C. van Ruymbeke (eds.), A Key to the Treasure of the Hakim: artistic and humanistic aspects of Nizāmī Ganjavī’s Khamsa (Leiden 2011), pp. 195-210. - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/asian-and-african/2013/07/some-paintings-by-the-17th-century-safavid-artist-muhammad-zaman.html#sthash.imoteYRu.dpuf
Priscilla Soucek and Muhammad Isa Waley, “The Nizāmī manuscript of Shāh Tahmāsp: a reconstructed history.” In J.-C. Bürgel and C. van Ruymbeke (eds.), A Key to the Treasure of the Hakim: artistic and humanistic aspects of Nizāmī Ganjavī’s Khamsa (Leiden 2011), pp. 195-210. - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/asian-and-african/2013/07/some-paintings-by-the-17th-century-safavid-artist-muhammad-zaman.html#sthash.imoteYRu.dpuf
- See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/asian-and-african/2013/06/stitched-up-with-silk-naqd-%CA%BBali-begs-journey-to-london-in-1626.html#sthash.3f1BNvvy.dpuf
Founded by Mani in Mesopotamia in the 3rd century AD, Manichaeism was for a time one of the most widespread religions in the world. Under the protection of the Sasanian emperor Shapur I (r.241–72), Mani preached a fundamental dualism based on light (good) and darkness (evil), the world being a contamination of the two (this idea is seen in the Zoroastrian creation myth, see my recent post ‘Zoroaster’s Egg’). God had given the same message to the Buddha, Zoroaster and Jesus, but it had become distorted over time through oral misrepresentation. Mani therefore stressed the importance of the written text and also the use of paintings to illustrate his teachings. His religion was strongly influenced by Christianity and Zoroastrianism but came to be regarded as heretical by both.
The British Library is lucky enough to have some of the most important Manichaean texts in its collections, and recently we hosted a special viewing to celebrate the 8th International Conference of the International Association of Manichaean Studies, held at the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS). It was a momentous occasion, probably the first time that such important works had ever been looked at together, and certainly too good an opportunity to miss to write about them! Manichaean scholars examining two Chinese scrolls: on the left the Manichaean Hymn Scroll (Or.8210/S.2659) and on the right the Compendium of the teachings of Mani, the Buddha of Light, dated AD 731 (Or.8210/S.3969)
Some of the oldest and most valuable sources on Manichaeism are in fact Christian anti-Manichaean writings, written only a century after Mani’s death (AD 274 or 277). The best-known are perhaps the Confessions, written in Latin in AD 397-8, of St. Augustine of Hippo who was himself a Manichaean before converting to Christianity. One of the most important sources in the British Library is the Syriac manuscript Add.12150 which contains the treatise Against the Manicheans by Titus (d. 378) of Bostra (Bosra, now in Syria), translated from Greek. This codex is additionally important, being the oldest known dated Syriac manuscript, in near perfect condition, and copied in Edessa in the year 723 of the Seleucid era (AD 411).
The final page of Titus of Bostra’s treatise Against the Manicheans. Vellum, dated AD 411 (Add.12150, f.156r)
Equally important are Add.14574 and Add.14623, both parts of the only surviving copy of the Prose Refutations of Mani, Marcion, and Bardaisan by Saint Ephrem (c. 306–373). This 6th century codex had at some point been broken up. 88 leaves (Add.14623) were washed and scrubbed to obliterate the original text, and then re-used in Egypt in 823 by a monk, Aaron, originally from Dara in Mesopotamia. Ironically, part of the original manuscript containing Ephrem’s Discourse on Virginity, apparently thought fit to preserve, was copied into the new manuscript before being erased. Fortunately the first 19 leaves (Add.14574) escaped the treatment and both parts are now in the Library's collection. Add. 14754 was acquired by the British Museum from a monastery in the Wadi Natrun in Egypt (as was Add.12150) by Archdeacon Tattam in the 19th century (for an account of how the Museum came to acquire them, see pp. xi-xiv of W. Wright’s Catalogue of the Syriac Manuscripts in the British Museum, vol. 3).
Folios 6v-7r of the 9th century palimpsest Add.14623
Detail of the bottom of folio 7r, turned upside down, showing Ephrem’s work underneath
It required the painstaking efforts of Charles Mitchell, a Canadian Syriac scholar teaching at Merchant Taylors’ School, London, to decipher the concealed text. From 1905 until the First World War he devoted his leisure time to reading what he could of the palimpsest which was extra problematic on account of the skin it was written on. “Worst of all” he wrote in the introduction to his edition (Mitchell 1912), “only one side of the leaves could be read, except in two or three cases, though there was evidence that the writing was lurking in obscurity below.” Mitchell also complained that “Accurate deciphering is only possible under a good sunlight” and the London weather had held him back further.
The Rev. Charles Wand Mitchell, frontispiece to vol. 2 (Mitchell 1921)
Mitchell's patience and perseverance led, Dr. Barnett, then Keeper of Oriental Manuscripts at the Museum, in 1908 to apply a “re-agent” to the illegible part of the palimpsest. This had the effect of revealing the underwriting so clearly that it became possible to transcribe almost the entire contents. Mitchell was also able to reconstruct the original order of the leaves and quires. I’m not sure what this “re-agent” would have been, but judging from the present illegibilty of the palimpsest, I think this manuscript would be a good candidate for some form of investigative photography!
Unfortunately, Charles Mitchell was fatally wounded in action in France in 1917 during the First World War, while helping a doctor to bandage the wounded near the firing line. Volume 1 of his edition and translation had been published in 1912, and vol 2 was published posthumously in 1921.
We also have important Manichaean texts from Central Asia in Middle Persian, Sogdian, Turkish and Chinese. I’ll be writing about them on another occasion.
Further reading
Good articles on Mani and Manichaeism can be found in Encyclopædia Iranica online, especially Werner Sundermann’s “Mani” and “Manicheism i: general survey” A good online introduction is also: P.O. Skjærvø, An Introduction to Manicheism, 2006 An edition and translation of St. Ephrem’s Prose Refutations is also available online: C.W. Mitchell, S. Ephraim’s Prose Refutations of Mani, Marcion, and Bardaisan, vol.1 (1912) and vol. 2 (1921) For an article about Titus of Bostra, see: Nils Arne Pedersen, "Titus of Bostra in Syriac Literature" in Laval théologique et philosophique, vol. 62/2 (2006), pp. 359-367.
Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies
Postscript by Christina Duffy, British Library Imaging Scientist
USW: Many of us have been wondering about the miraculous "re-agent" applied under Dr. Barnett's auspices to St. Ephrem's Prose Refutations of Mani, Marcion, and Bardaisan in 1908. I asked Christina Duffy, Imaging Scientist at the British Library if she could say anything about the process and this is her reply. The good news is that the Library is planning to get new equipment later this year which may be able to read the undertext of the palimpsest and perhaps even improve on Mitchell's readings. We'll report on this in due course.
She writes:
Sadly the result of chemicals used to make indecipherable script legible is seen in many of our manuscripts here at the BL. While the treatments initially enhanced the faded text greatly it was only a matter of time before the entire passage was left in a much worse state!
In 1969 Restaurator reprinted a report of the St Gallen Conference on the Conservation of Manuscripts from 1898 which listed gallic acid, thiocyanate, ammonium sulphide, sodium sulphide, potassium ferrocyanide and tannin solution as chemicals used to recover text. Essentially the reagents were attempting to balance the ink formulation. By "reagent" we mean a substance or compound used to bring about a chemical reaction.
There is mention of the use of chemical reinforcements as early as the 17th century but it wasn't until the 19th century when chemistry was more understood that lots of reactions were tried out. For iron-gall ink, a good stable black ink is formed by a black iron-gall ink complex. If the ink production for whatever reason is imperfect, ink can become illegible overtime i.e. fade. Imperfect ink is generally missing one of the essential compounds in the ink ingredient list (such as iron sulphide or gallic acid) so it makes sense that applying these missing chemicals will allow the reaction to take place and the text to become clear again! Which is what they did, but alas the aftermath was less pleasing!
The oldest known recipe for text recovery uses gallic acid. One article suggests making an extract of gall-nuts in white wine and wetting the missing text with a sponge to recover the text. However it isn't mentioned that the gall-nut extract goes brown itself after a few years and wherever the liquid was applied turns dark brown so nothing is legible!
Other treatments include hepar suplhuris, toning letters blue by reacting iron ions with potassium hexacyanoferrates or placing the text briefly in hydrochloric acid. Some manuscripts treated in this way are now covered in blue dye and completely illegible...which is why using imaging techniques is a much better idea!
There is a good article explaining all this including the chemical formulas by Robert Fuchs, “The history of chemical reinforcement of texts in manuscripts – What should we do now?” in Care and Conservation of Manuscripts 7 (2003): 159–170.
An unusual and intriguing piece of history which the British Library was fortunate enough to acquire in recent years is this exquisite copy of the Tuhfat al-muluk, ‘A Gift to Kings’, purchased at a London auction attended by numerous Iranian expatriate congoscenti.
Tuhfat al-muluk, ʻA Gift to Kingsʼ. Iran, ca.1925-6. Fine nasta‘liq calligraphy, 8 lines, per page. Interlinear gilding throughout, with scroll ornamentation. Multiple ruled text frames in black, gold, and blue. 9 ff. of European cream wove paper, sized and polished. 214 x 136 mm; text area 136 x 82 mm. Marbled endpapers. Binding in green leather binding with gilt border lines (Or.15599, ff 1v-2r)
This Persian tract on principles of ethics and government comprises forty brief sections (bāb), each containing four brief maxims, all ʻselected by sages from the books of the ancientsʼ. It is also known by the title Tuhfat al-vuzara, ʻA Gift to Viziersʼ. The author is unknown.
The present manuscript was written and illuminated by or for Sayyid Yusuf Majd al-Udaba, and illustrated by his son, for presentation to the heir apparent, Prince (later Shah) Muhammad Riza Pahlavi (reg. 1941-1979). This is evident from two inscriptions in illuminated panels at the foot of f. 8v (Taqdimi-i Sayyid Yusuf Majd al-Udaba, ‘Presented by Majd al-Udaba’) and at the head and foot of f. 9r (Dirakhshan shud az burj-i khvurshid mah / Muhammad Riza shud vali-‘ahd-i Shah, ‘The Moon shone radiant from the Sign of the Sun / Muhammad Riza became Heir Apparent to the Shah’), together with the presence of his portrait on f. 9r. The portrait, in pencil, is signed by Sayyid Husayn, son of Majd al-Udaba, and is dated 1304 shamsi/1925-6, which is probably the date of copying. This manuscript was probably produced at or near Tehran.
Portrait of Prince (later Shah) Muhammad Riza Pahlavi (Or.15599, ff 8v-9r)
It may be of interest to quote a few of the maxims presented for the edification of the future sovereign: ‘Chapter Twenty-Eight: That four things are injurious to a sovereign: tyranny in a prince, negligence in a vizier, treachery in a secretary, humiliation of a prisoner, and oppression of the lowly’. (Here either the author’s arithmetic or his adherence to the quaternary formula has lapsed.) ‘Chapter Twenty-Nine: That four things do not last: an unjust ruler; an old man without sense; unlawful property; and the passing days’.
Following from my last post about the recently digitised copy of Shah Tahmasp’s Khamsah of Nizami, we are pleased to announce that the British Library has now completed digitisation of another of its most famous and important Persian illustrated manuscripts: Add.18113, containing three of the five poems from the Khamsah of Khvaju Kirmani (1290-1349?). Partially modelled on Nizami’s earlier work, Khvaju drew extensively on traditional Iranian folklore. This manuscript, notable for its early calligraphy and illustrations, contains the story of Humay and Humayun, the Kamālnāmah (‘Book of Perfection’) and the Rawżat al-anvār (‘Garden of Lights’).
Humāy u Humāyūn was completed in 1331 in response to a request to enchant Muslim audiences with a Magian theme. Prince Humay, while hunting, is led by a ruby-lipped onager to the Queen of the Fairies who shows him a portrait of Humayun, daughter of the Emperor of China. He falls deeply in love and sets off to find her. His quest led him through many adventures but eventually he won her and became ruler of the Chinese empire. For a summary of the plot see Bürgel (below).
Prince Humay and Azar Afruz find Bihzad drunk, sleeping under a cypress tree (Add.18113, f.3v)
Humay at the court of the Emperor (Faghfūr) of China (Add.18113, f. 12r)
Humayun (in disguise) has challenged Humay to a duel. Defeated she removes her helmet before making up the quarrel (Add.18113, f. 23r)
Humay and Humayun feasting in a garden and listening to musicians (Add.18113, f.40v)
Humay on the day after their wedding has gold coins poured over him as he leaves Humayun’s room. The name of the artist, Junayd, is inscribed in the arch above Humayun's head (Add.18113, f. 45v)
The second poem, the Kamālnāmah (‘Book of Perfection’), completed in 1343, is a description of an allegorical journey describing moral and religious topics interspersed with anecdotes about kings and mystics. In the episode illustrated below. ʻAli ibn Abi Talib was travelling to a staging post when he was attacked by an oncoming horseman. His defeated assailant, at the point of death, lamented that he would end his life without achieving his heart’s desire, namely to fulfill his beloved’s request for ʻAli’s head. On hearing this ʻAli spared his life: “If your affairs would indeed be settled by such an act, then I am ʻAli and this is my head, but do cease repining and pull yourself together. Take your sword and do as you will.” (Fitzherbert, p. 148). The story ends with the attacker’s conversion and their triumphal return together.
The third work — which may, on account of the position of the shamsah (see below), have originally been placed at the beginning of the volume — is the Rawżat al-anvār (‘Garden of Lights’), a Sufi masnavi completed in 1342, consisting of 20 discourses on the requirements for a mystical life and the ethics of kingship.
Sultan Malikshah ibn Arslan is here accosted by an old woman who reproaches him for allowing his soldiers to hunt her cow, the sole provider of sustenance for herself and her four fatherless children. The king repented and was thus saved, the moral being that one should always help the needy and can only be saved by good deeds (Add.18113, f. 85r)
In this final illustration the Sasanian ruler Nushirvan (Khusraw I Anushirvan, r. 531-78) discourses with his minister Buzurjmihr, epitomising the concept of the just ruler and the wise counsellor (Add.11813, f. 91r)
The volume itself has a complex history. The poems were copied by the famous calligrapher Mir ʻAli ibn Ilyas al-Tabrizi al-Bavarchi (میر علی بن الیاس التبریزی الباورچی) in 798 (1396) at the Jalayirid capital Baghdad[1]. The paintings may have belonged with the original copy or have been added separately. The artist’s name, Junayd, a pupil of Shams al-Din who worked under the Jalayirid sultan Uways I (r. 1356-74), is inscribed on an arch on folio 45v (Junayd naqqāsh-i sulṭānī). The volume was subsequently refurbished for the Safavid prince Bahram Mirza (1517–49), the youngest of the four sons of Shah Ismaʻil (r. 1501–24) who founded the Safavid dynasty, at which time a page was detached and mounted in an album compiled for him by Dust Muhammad (Istanbul, Topkapı Pal. Lib., H 2154, fol. 20v). As the manuscript stands today, the pages are out of sequence and it is not certain exactly what the original order was. Scholars are currently studying the codicology, especially in relation to the illustrations.
The shamsah at the beginning of the Rawżat al-anvār, inscribed in the centre: ‘For the library of Prince Abu’l-Fath Bahram, mighty as Jam’ (ba-rasm-i kutub khānah-i Shahriyār Abū’l-Fatḥ Bahrām jam iqtidār) (Add.18113, f. 79r)
The manuscript was acquired by the British Museum 16 March 1850 from the sale of Major-General Thomas Gordon (1788-1841), known primarily for his role in the Greek War of Independence in the 1820s and 1830s. Its digitisation was sponsored by the Iran Heritage Foundation as part of our collaborative Persian Manuscripts Digital Project.
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[1] There were two calligraphers called Mir ʻAli Tabrizi active in the late 14th century: Mir ‛Ali ibn Ilyas, the calligrapher of this manuscript, and Mir ‛Ali ibn Hasan al-Sultani, who is credited with having invented the nastaʼliq script.
Ursula Sims-Williams, Asian and African Studies
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Further reading
Teresa Fitzherbert, “Khwājū Kirmānī (689-753/1290-1352): An Éminence Grise of Fourteenth Century Persian Painting”, Iran 29 (1991): pp.137-151 J. T. P. de Bruijn, “ḴᵛĀJU KERMĀNI” in Encyclopædia Iranica online J. C. Bürgel, “Humāy and Humayūn: a Medieval Persian Romance”, in Proceedings of the First European Conference of Iranian Studies, Turin 1987, vol 2 (1990): pp. 347-57 The Grove Encyclopedia of Islamic Art and Architecture online, edited by Jonathan M. Bloom and Sheila S. Blair, with entries on Junayd and Mir ʻAli Tabrizi (by Sheila Canby)
Researchers who make use of the Asian & African Studies Reading Room on the third floor of the Library will be aware that it contains a small but impressive display of works of art. Readers showing their passes to the security officer on duty at the entrance may not be aware that they are almost literally turning their backs on a portrait by Royal Academician Thomas Phillips of the early nineteenth century oriental scholar and bibliophile Claudius James Rich.
Portrait of Claudius James Rich, ca. 1803, by Thomas Phillips R.A. Donated in 1825 by his widow Mary Rich Oil painting on loan from the Trustees of the British Museum (Foster 886) Images Online
However, walking past two of the three model ships in glass cases donated to the India Office by shipping companies in the Victorian period, they will discover most seats in the Room allow a view of nine portraits high on the east wall. These range from Richard Greenbury’s 1626 painting of Naqd ‘Ali Beg, Persian envoy to the court of King Charles I (see our recent post ‘Stitched up in Silk’, but note that the painting has been temporarily removed for repair), through the full length portrait of one of the mid-nineteenth century Prime Ministers of Nepal by Bhaujuman Citrakar in its ornate gilt frame, to the pair of north Indian worthies painted by the German-born artist Johann Zoffany and shown in last year’s exhibition of his work at the Royal Academy.
H.E. General Sir Jang Bahadur Kunwar Rana (1817-77), Prime Minister and Commander-in-Chief of Nepal. Oil painting by Bhaujaman Citrakar, 1849 (Foster 36) Images Online
On the way out readers will no doubt notice the ca. 1730 painted and gilded East India Company coat-of-arms; there is also a specially-designed niche in the far corner where stands a handsome bust of Warren Hastings, the famous late eighteenth century Governor-General of Bengal who played a major role in the establishment of British power in India; and on top of the oriental language card catalogues two (empty) manuscript boxes from Southeast Asia. Two much larger examples from Burma and Thailand can be seen in glass cases out on the third floor landing; those with long memories will recall that this space was formerly occupied by three fine eighteenth century chairs from the Company’s Court Room.
The East India Company coat of arms, originally hung above the chairman's seat in the Directors Court Room at East India House, Leadenhall Street. Wood. Originally published/produced in c.1730 (Foster 887) Images Online
Needless to say the Library possesses far more works of art than it can hope to display at any one time. They are described in detail in our India Office Select Materials, and some can be traced and admired in the Images Online database. High resolution digital images of all 286 of the Library's oil paintings can also be seen on the BBC's 'Your Paintings'. A list with details of the works of art on display in the Reading Room can be downloaded from the following link: Download Works of art in AAS Reading Room.
Looking at original prints and drawings can be arranged for registered readers via a weekday afternoon (14.00-17.00) appointments system by contacting [email protected]. Obtaining copies is the province of Imaging Services. Don’t forget too that the two Sunday tours include a look inside the Reading Room on the one day of the week it is closed to readers.
Mughal rulers’ liking for the renowned Persian lyric poet Ḥāfiẓ of Shiraz is reflected in a number of manuscripts (see our earlier posts ʻWhat were the Mughals' favourite books?ʼ and ʻA rare commentary on the Divan of Hafizʼ), among them a copy of his Dīvān believed to have been completed in 1582 by ‘Abd al-Ṣamad Shīrīn-qalam, one of the artists whom the emperor Humāyūn brought to Kabul – and later to Delhi – from his native Iran. Subsequently the volume was enhanced by order of Jahāngīr with nine illustrations. The greater part of this manuscript, including eight miniatures, is preserved at the British Library (MS. Or. 7573); the last part, including one miniature and the colophon, belongs to the Chester Beatty Library, Dublin (MS Ind 15, see Leach, pp. 328-31).
Among the interesting features of this manuscript is the relationship between the paintings and the text. Priority appears to have been given to providing a text to fit the paintings rather than vice versa: comparing the verses in Or. 7573 with those found in critical editions, one finds that in several cases a number of couplets have been deliberately omitted from the text panels on the illustrated pages (examination of the leaves in question reveals that there is no text underneath). The present writer is currently researching this subject for an article.
The Madrasa Jurist. Painting by Muḥammad Riżā ca. 1611 (Or.7535, f. 25r)
One of the most interesting miniatures, from the point of view of artistic interpretation of Ḥāfiẓ, is the first one in the manuscript, on folio 25r, which contains the artist’s signature in Arabic: ṣawwarahu al-‘abd Muḥammad Riḍā (‘painted by the slave [of God] Muḥammad Riżā’). This scene has previously been identified as ‘Imād al-Dīn Faqīh of Kirmān and his pupils in ecstasy (see Titley, p. 60; Losty and Roy, pp. 102-3 below). The inscription beneath the text panels reads al-Ṣalāt ‘imād al-dīn (‘Ritual prayer is the pillar of the faith [of Islam]’), a Hadith or Prophetic Tradition. The idea that the subject of the miniature is ‘Imād al-Dīn Faqīh of Kirmān originates from a misunderstanding of this inscription and of the second couplet on the page. ‘Imād al-Dīn ʻAlī Faqīh was a very orthodox Sufi master and poet of the 8th/14th century with an enormous following, and would have been horrified by any depiction of human beings, let alone that of the wine-sodden jurist in Muḥammad Riżā’s painting.
In this miniature the two text panels are contiguous, but the verse couplets are the first and the fourth of Ḥāfiẓ’s ghazal:
Now there’s a cup of pure wine in the hand of the rose, the bulbul is singing its praises in (or, with) a hundred tongues.
Yesterday the madrasa jurist was drunk and gave this ruling: Wine’s unlawful – but better than consuming waqf (charitable trust) assets.
Here Ḥāfiẓ shifts abruptly from setting a delightful scene, with the use of conventional lyrical imagery, to acerbic social criticism; such swift transitions are not uncommon in his poems. The first couplet is not relevant to the scene depicted except inasmuch as wine is mentioned. In this instance, however, being the opening bayt (couplet) of the ghazal it has been retained in the text. In Muḥammad Riżā’s painting it is the social criticism that counts, and it is reflected in aspects of realism that are not so commonly met with in Or. 7573 or elsewhere.
The faqīh or jurist at the centre of the painting has been described as being apparently on the point of passing out from religious, or possibly vinous, ecstasy. What we are actually shown is the (literally) drunk faqīh of the madrasa or Islamic college, who is honest enough not to deny his own wrongdoing but declares, as Ḥāfiẓ’s mouthpiece, that drinking wine is unlawful but better than consuming the assets of a waqf, or inalienable charitable endowment. The wrongdoing of the ostensibly righteous is a key theme in Ḥāfiẓ’s poetry.
In the painting, it may be that the seemingly righteous are represented by the two figures seated to the right (our left) of the faqīh, one of whom seems to be remonstrating with him. Possibly they have brought the miscreants before him in the expectation of having them sentenced to the ḥadd punishment (in other words, a severe beating) for drunkenness. Imagine their surprise at having the moral tables turned upon them by the representative of Sacred Law! Meanwhile, in the foreground two figures struggle to hold up or resuscitate a beardless young man whom they may have been introducing to corrupt practices. There are no signs of spiritual ecstasy, or of spiritual practices of any kind. That the opposite is the case is amply shown in the figure on the far right, possibly the brother of the one on the left. His turban has unravelled in picturesque style. What is more, he is quite unmistakably throwing up on the floor of the madrasa courtyard.
A text page from the Dīvān of Ḥāfiẓ, calligrapher ‘Abd al-Ṣamad, probably ca. 1582 (Or.7535, f. 276r)
To conclude, and to bring out some of the themes that so appealed to the Mughal audience, here is an attempt at translating the entire poem, so typical of Ḥāfiẓ in the manner in which mysticism, hedonism and social criticism appear intermingled:
Now there’s a cup of pure wine in the rose’s hand, the bulbul sings its praises in (or, with) a hundred tongues.
Call for a slim book of verse and head for the open air. What time is this for madrasa, studying kashf (revelation) and Kashshāf (Qur’ān commentary)?
Cut yourself off from people. Learn from the ‘Anqā (a phoenix-like bird whose home is in the remote mountain chain of Qāf) what to do: hermits are renowned from Mount Qāf to Mount Qāf (from one side of the world to the other).
Yesterday (a word Ḥāfiẓ uses not literally, but to refer to poetic, ‘mythical’ time) the madrasa jurist was drunk and gave this ruling: wine’s unlawful – but better than consuming waqf (charitable trust) assets.
Dregs or pure wine? The choice is not yours — but drink on! All our Cupbearer (here meaning God) does is the essence of kindness.
The gabble of the pretentious, the vain thoughts of sycophants – it’s all the same story of gold-embroiderers (refined craftspeople) and basket-weavers (būriyā-bāf: cf. riyā, ostentation; these latter are thought of as unrefined artisans).
Hold your peace, Ḥāfiẓ. And these fine points [pure] as red gold – hold onto them: the town banker is the town forger!
Ḥāfiẓ, Shams al-Dīn Muḥammad, Dīvān (Numerous editions). Linda York Leach, Mughal and Other Indian Paintings from the Chester Beatty Library. London: Scorpion Cavendish, 1995. Norah M. Titley, Miniatures from Persian Manuscripts. London: British Museum Publications, 1977. Jeremiah P. Losty and Malini Roy, Mughal India: Art, Culture and Empire. London: British Library, 2012. Husayn Ilahi-Ghomshei, ‘The Principles of the Religion of Love in Classical Poetry’. In Hafiz and the Religion of Love in Classical Persian Poetry, ed. L. Lewisohn. London: I.B. Tauris in association with Iran Heritage Foundation, 2010, pp. 77-106 Leonard Lewisohn, ‘The Religion of Love and the Puritans of Islam: Sufi Sources of Ḥāfiẓ’s Anti-Clericalism’. In Hafiz and the Religion of Love, pp. 159-196. J.T.P. de Bruijn, ‘‘Emād-al-Dīn ‘Alī Faqīh Kermānī.’ In Encyclopedia Iranica. ‘Imād al-Dīn ‘Alī Faqīh Kirmānī, Dīvān. Ed. Rukn al-Dīn Humāyūn-Farrukh. Tehran, 1348/1969.
One of the oldest oil paintings in the British Library’s collections is a massive portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg. It was commissioned by the English East India Company in 1626 and painted by Richard Greenbury (fl.1616-1651). In that year, Naqd ʻAli Beg came to London as the envoy of Shah ʻAbbas of Persia (r.1587-1629), to meet the British monarch, King Charles I (r.1625-1649).
His mission to England went so badly that he killed himself on the journey back to Iran in 1627. The circumstances behind his suicide relate to a violent quarrel that arose between him and Sir Robert Shirley at the court of Charles I. Both men claimed to be the true envoy of Shah ʻAbbas, claiming the other was an imposter, so the king ordered them to return to the Shah’s court and resolve their differences. The shame of failure was too great for Naqd ʻAli Beg to bear, hence his suicide.
It seems as if the East India Company was responsible for this terrible incident. According to a document in the British Library, Sir Robert Shirley was, in fact, the true envoy of Shah ʻAbbas, and had returned to England in 1624, two years before the arrival of Naqd ʻAli Beg. However, Shirley had angered the East India Company by trying to negotiate a monopoly for the trade in Persian silk with the King of Spain. Such an agreement would have undermined the silk trade with England. The East India Company’s response was to slander Shirley, and to put in place another envoy to the Shah of Persia, who would support trade with London.
Portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg, oil on canvas (British Library F23)
The portrait reflects the importance of the silk trade. Naqd ʻAli Beg’s adornments are all made of highest quality Persian silk. He wears a magnificent iridescent gown, which contrasts with his sash and turban. His robe is intricately embroidered with human figures resembling those found in Persian miniature paintings. The only object in the darkly lit room where he stands is a Persian carpet under his feet. Posing him amongst all these silk objects is surely not a coincidence. They suggest that the entire point of Naqd ʻAli Beg’s embassy was to undermine Sir Robert Shirley’s work, and secure Persia’s silk trade with the East India Company.
Richard Greenbury was commissioned to paint two portraits of Naqd ʻAli Beg for the East India Company. One was kept in East India House, and is now part of the British Library’s permanent collections. The other portrait, now lost, was given to Naqd ʻAli Beg when he left England in 1627, along with a silver basin and ewer valued at that time for £50. Even though Naqd ʻAli Beg’s embassy was a complete disaster, the East India Company gave him these expensive gifts. But these offerings weren’t enough to assuage the humiliated Persian envoy. Rather than face the Shah, when his ship reached the coast of Western India, Naqd ʻAli Beg poisoned himself by allegedly feeding on nothing but opium for four days.
The British Library’s portrait of Naqd ʻAli Beg is about to be conserved through the support of the Friends of the British Library. In early 2014 it will be returned to its permanent position, in the British Library’s Asia & Africa Reading Room.
Further reading Archer, Mildred. The India Office Collection of Paintings and Sculpture. London: The British Library, 1986, pp. 28-29 Leapman, Michael. Book of the British Library. London: The British Library, 2012, p. 178 Unpublished notes by William Foster, dated 7 November 1903, in the India Office Records (IOR/L/R/6/248)
The British Library’s newly opened exhibition Propaganda: Power and Persuasion includes a number of exhibits relating to Asian and African Studies, one of which is a series of postcards dating from World War II based on an episode from the famous Persian epic the Shahnameh, or ‘Book of Kings.’
Zahhak enthroned, with serpents rising from his shoulders. From a provincial Timurid Shahnameh from Mazandaran dated 850/1446 (Or.12688, f22r)
The Shahnameh, written by Firdawsi (940-1025), tells the history of Iran in verse over the course of 55,000 rhyming couplets, from its mythical origins in pre-history to the end of Sasanian empire (AD 650), and includes many of the classic stories that have come to be emblematic of Persian culture, such as the love stories of Khusraw and Shirin and Bizhan and Manizheh, as well as the exploits of the Herculean hero Rustam and his tragic encounter with his son, Sohrab. Through his authorship of this epic poem, Firdawsi is credited with saving the Persian language at a time when Arabic had become the paramount language of religion, culture and power.
Left: the moment when Ahriman-Goebbels, disguised as Zahhak-Hitler’s cook, causes serpents with the faces of Mussolini and Tojo to grow out of his shoulders. Right: Zahhak-Hitler executing the innocent and tyrannising the population (COI Archive PP/13/9L) Images on line
The postcards on display in the current exhibition use the myth of the tyrant Zahhak in an attempt at rendering anti-German propaganda more relevant to Iranian cultural sensibilities. The Iranian scholar Mojtaba Minovi (1903 -1976) was working for the BBC Persian service during World War II, editing the pro-Allied newspaper Ruzgar-i Naw. When asked for advice on an effective propaganda campaign for Iran, he suggested using stories and imagery from the Shahnameh (see Wynn, p. 4) to appeal to the Iranian people. Minovi’s advice was taken and the images were created in 1942 by Kimon Evan Marengo (1904-1988), known by the sobriquet Kem, a prolific creator of propaganda cartoons for the British during the war.
The tyrant Zahhak, who features as Hitler in the postcards, epitomises an oppressive and barbaric ruler who brings to an end the enlightened rule of Jamshid. One understanding of Firdawsi’s tale is that Zahhak is symbolic of the Arab invaders who brought an end to the Sasanian Empire and supposedly to Persian civilisation. After Zahhak fully displays his capacity for barbarity, Ahriman (i.e., Iblis or Satan) causes serpents to grow from his shoulders that require a daily feeding of human brains, with victims chosen from among the youth of Iran. After years of reigning in terror, Zahhak has a dream of his downfall in which three warriors approach on horseback, one of whom is Feraydun, from whose face farr (the light of kingliness and justice) emanates. After this dream, a blacksmith, named Kaveh, arrives at Zahhak’s court requesting the release of his son, one of the youths who is to be fed to the snakes on Zahhak’s shoulders. In front of his court, Zahhak feigns mercy and releases Kaveh’s son, but later asks Kaveh to sign a document attesting to his mercy. Kaveh refuses to falsely affirm the justice of a tyrant and tears up the document. He then raises his blacksmith’s banner on a standard, foments a popular rebellion and goes in search of Feraydun, the future king who would rid Iran of Zahhak’s injustice and brutality. At the end of this episode, Feraydun dethrones Zahhak but rather than killing him, binds him in Mount Damavand to be tortured by the snakes on his shoulders until the end of time.
Left: Zahhak-Hitler’s dream, in which the three warriors who will cause his demise appear – here depicted as Chuchill, Stalin and Roosevelt. Right: Kaveh, the symbol of liberation for the Iranian people, coming before Zahhak-Hitler and raising his blacksmith’s apron as a banner of rebellion (COI Archive PP/13/9L) Images online
Left: the arrival of the promised warriors, Churchill leading the way with his cigar, following by Stalin with his pipe and Roosevelt with his cigarette in its signature holder. The trio are, of course, led by the symbol of Iranian national liberation, Kaveh with his banner, suggesting that an Allied victory would be a triumph for the Iranian people and not an occupation. Right: Zahhak-Hitler is nailed to Mt Damavand by the liberated Iranian people, with the Mussolini and Tojo snakes on his shoulders appearing rather deflated as the trio of western leaders gaze benevolently at the scene (COI Archive PP/13/9L) Images online
My sincere thanks to Drs Melville, Ansari and Motadel for their help in explaining the postcards and pointing me in the direction of the relevant literature.
Further reading Valerie Holman, ‘Kem’s Cartoons in the Second World War,’ History Today (March, 2002) A. Wynn. ‘The Shāh-nāme and British Propaganda in Irān in World War II’, Manuscripta Orientalia 16/1 (June 2010) Dick Davis. Stories from the Shahnameh of Ferdowsi, 3 vols. (Washington: Mage, 1998, 2000 and 2004)
