Invader Enthroned: The Indian Portraits of Nadir Shah and Their Local and British Collectors

“His Majesty’s Most Loyal Vassals”: The Indian Nobility and Tuúpac Amaru

The Anglo-Indian community has been most visible in the schools and offices of Calcutta. During the colonial age, viewed by the colonizers either as bulwarks of the colonial elites, or as lurking threats to their power, they were subject to a ‘frequently shifting set of criteria that allowed them privilege at certain historical moments and pointedly excluded them at others’. Scholars have argued that, with the growth of ‘scientific racism’ in nineteenth century Europe, a transformation occurred in the relationships between the British rulers and the Anglo-Indians – ‘the “hybrid” became a trope for moral failure and degeneration, and led to the increasingly negative evaluation and status abasement of Anglo-Indians by British elites in India’. The introduction of technologically modern areas of occupation like the railways and telegraph in India gave the Anglo-Indians a specific social niche of their own. Many of them found jobs in these industries which were entirely new and therefore, unlike almost all other professions practised in India, had no caste identified with it. Their awareness ‘of themselves as distinct from the surrounding Indian population, with a common language (English) and a common religion (Christianity), as well as other shared cultural attributes’ encouraged them to keep themselves to the central parts of the city, where the schools and churches were. In recent years, though, the rising real estate prices have compelled them to move to outlying suburbs of the city, like the Andul and Metiabruz areas.

İn this work presents epistolary sources in the Ottoman language from the collection of the firmans of the Ottoman sultans and viziers in the name of the Kaitag Utsmians. The Fund of Oriental Manuscripts of the Institute of History, Archeology and Ethnography of the DPhIC RAS contains microfilms of these firms, obtained from the National Library of France, where the Utsmi collection came in the second half of the 20th century. Some copies of the firmans of the Ottoman leaders in the name of the Kaitag Utsmians are also available in the book depositories of Georgia. They were published by Georgian scientists, with transcript and translation into Georgian and Russian. A comparative analysis of the documents revealed that the Georgian collection is more complete than the Parisian one, the collections contain copies made by different authors, there are textual inconsistencies and discrepancies in the dating of the firms. In this article, we present facsimiles of Ottoman firmans in the names of the Dagestan rulers of the second half of the 15th century. and the first half of the XX century. Kaitag utsmievs of Ahmad Khan, Khamzat Khan and Ustar Khan. We present their content, providing the appropriate comments. The documents are of high scientific value, shedding light on the policy of the Ottomans in the Caucasus, on the historical events associated with the liberation struggle of the Dagestan peoples, the policy of the Dagestan rulers. Indeed, quite recently, the struggle of the Dagestani highlanders with the Iranian shah, which went on for several years, was successfully completed. The decisive victory over Nadir Shah was won when, in the fight against the enemy in 1741-1742. The united forces of Avars, Kaitags, Akushins, Kumukhs, Rutuls and other Dagestan peoples took part. Firmen convey the atmosphere of historical events, the praise of valor addressed to the recalcitrant mountaineers is heard more and more often, the tone of the letters of the Ottomans, promising endless favors in exchange for obedience to the Muslim Caliph, is replaced by a call to receive retribution from the Almighty for the sacred struggle against foreign invaders.

This paper examines the mid-eighteenth century historical memoir of Mohammad Ali Hazin Lāhiji and the auto-biographical travel narrative of 'Abd al-Karim Kashmiri as a way to understand a shared tradition of cultural conceptions and textual borrowing, even in the midst of different attributions of historical meaning and valuations within that culture. Hazin often serves as an iconic figure, representative of the changing relationship between Iran and Hindustan in the eighteenth century. Reading Hazin's memoir in relation to Kashmiri's travels with Nadir Shah's army from Delhi to Iran on his way to hajj problematizes this dominant reading. Underneath diverging and sometimes conflicting claims in these texts, history is represented in a way that evinces similar ideas of home, country, and ideal political rule in the context of travel and exile.

The multi-ethnic regions of the Habsburg Monarchy became increasingly perceived as places of instability and insecurity after the rise of competing national movements in the mid-nineteenth century. The antagonism between local national elites culminated after the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867, as all pursued a course aimed at securing a favourable position. As actors of security, the local elites often and typically declared themselves and their respective nations to be existentially threatened and therefore with a legitimate claim to survive the challenges brought on by modern times. To investigate the security dilemmas of the local elites in two different regions of Austria-Hungary – namely in three city municipalities in Bacs-Bodrog county in Southern Hungary; and in Vas, Sopron and Moson counties in western Hungary – this study combines methods of historical discourse analysis with approaches taken from security and nationalism studies as well as regional and local history.

THE Mughal Emperors of India were great connoisseurs and collectors of illuminated manuscripts and their Imperial Library at Delhi contained a priceless collection of these works of art. On the decay of the dynasty, portions of this library were appropriated by the Mahrattas and also by the Persian invader. Nadir Shah, in the XVIIIth century: it was finally broken up during the Mutiny of 1857. Great were the vicissitudes of some of these valuable manuscripts and miniature paintings before they again found safety in museums or in the hands of modern collectors. Several were acquired as loot by rebel sepoys and were found folded up in their bedding or crammed into their haversacks in a badly mutilated condition. Many of those which were not actually destroyed during these disturbances have been preserved, and recently a group of miniature paintings from the library of the “Great Moguls” came to light, having been discovered by Mr. Ajit Ghose of Calcutta, a connoisseur of Indian and Persian art. These pictur...

What role did the domestic image of women play in English working-class during the mid-nineteenth century? To what extent was the demand for a family wage supported and pursued by working men and women? How was women's work perceived? How did women identify themselves and shape and conceptualize their roles in relation to home and work? I will address these questions below in light of current scholarly discussion, arguing, with reference to the cotton industry, that the domestic image does not reflect the diversity of women's experience, nor does it suggest the extent to which women's dual roles found expression in the culture. In recent discussions, scholars have often emphasized the emergence of the male breadwinner norm as an ideal within English working-class over the course of the nineteenth century. In the face of mechaniza tion and its accompanying disruptions of working-class life, they have ar gued, a male-dominated world of work was constructed which served to marginalize women as workers and position them in the domestic realm.1 Male artisans gathered in constitutional societies, trade unions, and educa tional groups, forging an identity of interest and building a common culture that served to exclude women, as home and work were increas ingly separated.2 At the same time, industrialists structured work on the basis of ideas about gender according to Sonya Rose, thereby transposing] hierarchical and gendered family relations onto class rela tions.3 The association between skill and masculinity was thereby rein forced, enabling men to gain a sense of independence as workers while women were increasingly considered dependents, subsumed within the family as wives and mothers. Relying primarily on a discursive analysis, some scholars have thus concluded that a natural division of labor, based upon assumptions about sexual difference, came to be widely accepted within working-class culture.4 Consequently, Jane Lewis has contended, the family wage became an ideal shared by both men and women as women accepted the primary responsibility for the home and children.5 Despite the predominance of this approach in current scholarship, it has not gone entirely uncontested. Directly challenging the view put for ward by Lewis, Harold Benenson has pointed to the acceptance of wives' nondomestic orientation in the cotton district.6 In such areas as Nelson and Burnley, where men and women were employed alongside each other

Introduction This chapter argues that many Indian intellectuals and politicians imagined national sovereignty through concepts and ceremonies relating to singular rulership. Monarchy – the conceptual abstraction of ‘rule of one’ – became a privileged way of thinking about the unity of the nation as hinged on the nation's symbolic apex, a singular sovereign figure. In the last quarter of the nineteenth century and the first decade of the twentieth, such discussions were especially popular among Western-educated Indians in Bengal and Bombay Presidencies. Mythical and historical rulers were celebrated in public meetings, popular plays, novels, stories, songs, political essays and invented rituals. The royally-led unification of Germany and Italy in the 1860s and early 1870s and the ascendancy of Japan after the Russo-Japanese war of 1904–05 heightened the attraction of the national monarch among Indians. The British monarchy was a model which was both rejected and dialectically appropriated by Indians. Indian nationalist elites voiced their desires for hegemonically governing the broader populace by invoking these sovereign figures: the imagined monarch encoded the self-image of the male nationalist politician as a guardian of the masses. Ronald Inden, who has written on Anglophone Indian nationalist historians, rightly suggests that the latter ‘transformed the divinity of the king into a sacred national unity’. When female rulers were invoked, the transgressive aspects of female sovereignty were sought to be domesticated by male intellectuals and publics (though not always successfully). Simultaneously, the monarch was projected as a saviour of the masses who fought against British and Indian elites. This fantasy of a protector-saviour-ruler emerged as part of critiques of colonial economic exploitation and bureaucratic administration and of the limitations of Indian elite politics. At the level of political metaphysics, it encoded a desire for the non-abstract, non-mediated, concrete, full presence of a certain form of embodied, allegedly visible, sovereignty. Ironically India did not develop a real national monarchy. At this chapter's conceptual centre is an analysis of an attempted coronation which has never been foregrounded in academic scholarship, but which shows the limits of kingly discourses in practical instantiation. Surendranath Banerjea, then the most famous ‘Moderate’ Indian nationalist politician, attempted to have himself ‘anointed and crowned’ in 1906, at the peak of the anti-colonial Swadeshi movement. The ceremony failed to elicit broad-based support and was criticised by other Indian nationalist politicians and the British.

In this monograph, Gerald Greenfield goes beyond his previous examination of imperial elite discourse on the Great Drought—the devastating drought that ravaged the backlands of much of the Brazilian Northeast between 1877 and 1879—and elite constructions on the usefulness of relief assistance to retirantes, or drought victims. He seeks to unveil the relationship between the imperial elites’ class interests, their political discourse on the drought, and the practical effects of that discourse on the reality of suffering and death of retirantes. This is a welcome addition to the scant scholarly literature on the history of the Great Drought and, more broadly, that of the backlands of Northeast Brazil.The book’s greatest contribution is its demonstration of the connections between imperial, provincial, and even municipal politics and the timing and nature of the allocation of relief help. Through the use of parliamentary records and official correspondence, Greenfield shows that self-interest and the possibility of patronage opportunities motivated local elites as well as legislative representatives from the Northeast to lobby for relief funds as early as June of 1877. But by the early months of 1880, and despite the fact that conditions in the backlands had not improved sufficiently for the surviving retirantes to return, virtually all relief help was suspended. Partisan rivalry determined the increasing opposition in the legislature to continuous expenditure on drought relief. In this context, the book furthers our knowledge of the effects of imperial politics in the periphery, and not only at the center of state power.Greenfield also seeks to demonstrate how elite discourse in Rio and the provincial capitals concerning the drought and the retirantes actually shaped the experience of retirantes in the scorched backlands. By analyzing provincial executive and municipal council sources, the author aptly shows that the elites based an exploitative relief policy—one that offered assistance in exchange for labor—on their imagined construction of backlanders as lazy and in need of moral regeneration. Therefore, in addition to contending with dislocation, epidemics, and family separation, retirantes became providers of cheap labor in agricultural colonies, railroad projects, and other public work projects that ultimately benefited those members of the elite with enough connections to channel relief assistance to their own benefit.The book is unified through the theme of the divergence between the elite representation and the reality of the Great Drought. But Greenfield also attempts to contrast the broader world of the sertao (the semiarid interior of the Northeast) and of the sertanejos (poor backlanders), as imagined by political elites, with the material reality of life in this difficult environment. However, the book is not as successful in tracing the living conditions and the social structure of the sertao. Greenfield bases most of this discussion on secondary sources that emphasize sertanejos’ dependence on large landowners and the continuity of traditional exploitative relations of production in the backlands. Furthermore, perhaps due to his reliance on correspondence from local and imperial elites, the author tends to portray sertanejos not only as the victims of a corrupt relief policy but also as lost individuals who failed to find ways to recommence their lives at drought’s end due to their loss of patron-client relations with influential potentates. These findings are at odds with the conclusions of the recent literature on the free poor in other areas of Brazil, which has uncovered various avenues to socioeconomic autonomy pursued by this group in different regions. In fact, despite the dearth of historical studies on the backlands, a handful of scholars (including Roger Cunniff and Roderick Barman) have shown that the dependence of poor free populations on large landowners gradually broke as a result of rapid social change starting in the mid-nineteenth century; this led to autonomous, if more vulnerable, livelihoods for many sertanejos. By contrast, Greenfield’s work implicitly perpetuates the image (also reproduced by local elites) of the back-landers as continuously subjugated to large landowners and of dependence as the main value orienting their lives.Greenfield’s examination of the images and realities of the sertao at large would have benefited by combining analysis of elite discourse with the methodologies and documental sources used by other researchers to uncover the lives of the free poor elsewhere in Brazil. This would have allowed a thorough examination of the material conditions of sertanejos before and after the drought and the possible ways in which they exercised agency at various levels. Nevertheless, this is a noteworthy book for historians and the general public interested in understanding some of the complex reasons why, despite relief help, the Great Drought resulted in almost half a million deaths over the course of three years.

This article examines the patronage of early Barbizon painting by a group of middle-class patrons in the 1840s. It focuses particularly on Paul Périer, Paul Barroilhet and Paul Collot and examines the nature of their personalities, the development of their collections, their relationships with artists and the ultimate dispersal of their collections at the auction house. Their collecting is placed within the context of critical comment of the time. The article argues that the collecting of these patrons represents a significant but neglected moment in the establishment of a taste for Barbizon work in the mid-nineteenth century.

This chapter highlights the “intimate” character of political elites in India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Nepal. Relations among political, civil service, business, media, professional, religious, and other powerful groups are examined, and their consequences for the stability or instability of political regimes are analyzed. Reflecting India’s size, diversity, and importance, its national, provincial, and local political elites receive detailed attention.

In October 1870, a scathing editorial in the Derby Mercury proclaimed that is almost as common in England as is in (Baby-Farm ers) .This was a damning statement. Since the eighteenth century, the murder of female infants in India—alongside the subject of sati (widow-burning)— had acted as a cipher, conjuring images of unbridled violence, ignorance, and depravity for British readers (see Mani; Major). Such images of savagery across the empire were increasingly used during the nineteenth to emphasize perceived moral and physical failings among the British working classes, with commentators likening unrespectable urban and rural communities to the inhabitants of Africa and Asia (see Thorne, Congregational; Religion). These rhetorical parallels also served to spur on campaigns to eradicate what were perceived as heathen customs in the colonies. From the early nineteenth onward, missionaries had taken a leading role in attempting to stamp out infanticide in India, arguing that only by acting in concert with religious educators would the secular government be able to eliminate these acts (see Cormack; Peggs). This tallied neatly with widespread perceptions that faith and custom were inextricably linked in India for both Hindus and Muslims (Metcalf 133). Many in the colonial administration shared this view, one author arguing that it is only divine revelation which proves itself adequate to the preservation of the equilibrium of perfect morality (Wilson 10). A number of different strategies were deployed to eradicate the practice during the early and mid-nineteenth century, with varying degrees of success (Bhatnagar et al.). The eventual eradication of female infanticide (that is, the murder of female infants) remained a key aim for missionaries in the late nineteenth century. One Bristol-based cleric—who, like many Western critics, wrongly believed that female infanticide was sanctioned in practice (if perhaps not in theological doctrine) by both Hinduism and Islam1 —even claimed in 1886 that eliminat ing infanticide in British colonies was the ultimate goal for which to strive, stressing that Christianity had century after come into victorious conflict with that damnable form of cruelty (Christianity). Yet to claim that only Christianity could prevent Indian child-murder ignored the fact that infanticide could, and did, happen in Christian Britain and Ireland (Arnot; Farrell; Grey, Discourses; Women's). Indeed, scholars have noted that Victorian Britain and Ireland experienced a parallel

Since it was first published 200 years ago in 1798, no other single work has constituted such a bastion of bourgeois thought as Thomas Malthus' Essay on the Principle of Population. No other work was more hated by the English working class, nor so strongly criticized by Marx and Engels. Although the Malthusian principle of population in its classical form was largely vanquished intellectually by the mid-nineteenth century, it continued to reemerge in new forms. In the late nineteenth century it took on new life as a result of the Darwinian revolution and the rise of social Darwinism. And in the late twentieth century Malthusianism reemerged once again in the form of neo-Malthusian ecology.This article can also be found at the Monthly Review website, where most recent articles are published in full.Click here to purchase a PDF version of this article at the Monthly Review website.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] has been one of the three Ms of the diet of southern common folks, along with meat (salt pork) and meal (corn meal). It has served as a baking ingredient, condiment, and cold remedy, and it was central to special-occasion meals in the South. We can draw on a range of sources, including travelers' accounts, autobiography, community studies, WpA narratives, and interviews conducted for the Origins of Soul Food Oral History Project to examine its importance and its changing role in southern foodways. (1) is made from sugar cane and the similar sorghum syrup comes from sweet sorghum grass. Both crops were probably introduced to the New World during the Atlantic slave trade. Travel accounts tell us that West Africans were familiar with both because women merchants made and sold sweets from these plants. Describing a coastal market in Guinea in 1602, the Dutch traveler Pieter de Marees writes: Very early in the morning, at day-break, the Peasants come to the Market, carrying on their heads two or three bundles of Sugar-cane, like Faggots. They untie the bundles of Sugar-cane and spread them out on the Market-place. Then the Inhabitants of the place come and buy Sugar-cane from the Peasants there, one buying two Canes, another three, according to their needs. Thus these Peasants quickly dispose of their Sugar-cane, for people are accustomed to eat a great deal of it. (2) In the sixteenth century the Portuguese established sugar plantations in Brazil, and the Spanish, French, Dutch, and English soon followed suit in the Caribbean and then in the South. English planters in the Caribbean sold molasses along with sugar and rum to Africans, Indians, and the English working class. White colonists in Virginia and the Carolinas also traded for Caribbean molasses, using it in a variety of ways. An anonymous observer wrote, around 1730, Molasses is generally throughout all the Northern Colonies, and at our Fisheries, in brewing their Beer, and the poorer Sort, who are very numerous, eat it with their Bread, and make Puddings of it, Ec [sic]. One common use was as a sweetener in hasty pudding--oatmeal porridge or cornmeal mush served with butter, milk, and molasses. In many places molasses was also as feed for both livestock and enslaved Africans. (3) After the Louisiana Purchase, sugar cultivation for national and international markets became gradually limited to Florida and Louisiana, but sugar cane was still grown for local consumption in states like Virginia and Alabama. Sweet sorghum, grown primarily in the Midwest in the mid-nineteenth century, had also become a predominantly southern crop by the 1890s. A U.S. Department of Agriculture study done in 1895 and 1896 found that African American farmers in Tuskegee County, Alabama, for example, dedicated some of their fields to raising sugar cane and sweet sorghum, which they used to make molasses for home consumption, although only a part of the molasses by the farmer is made on the farms, the rest is bought at the stores with other commodities. (4) [ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] Others obtained molasses through various systems of barter. Joyce White remembers that in her Choctaw County, Alabama, hometown African American men would go to the local white-owned sugar mill in November to help with the long, hard, hot and tedious task of making molasses: The work began at daybreak and lasted until nightfall. The stalks of cane were fed through a hand operated press to extract the sugar-sweet juice, which was poured into large vats. A fire was set and the juice was boiled until the sugar caramelized and turned into molasses. Daddy would arrive home dead tired. In those days black families bartered services for goods and produce, and his earnings were several gallon cans of molasses, which Mama cooked with throughout the winter. …

Reviewed by: Thicker than Water: Siblings and their Relations, 1780–1920 by Leonore Davidoff Barbara Caine (bio) Thicker than Water: Siblings and their Relations, 1780–1920, by Leonore Davidoff; pp. xii + 449. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2012, £37.00, £19.99 paper, $65.00, $35.00 paper. “Brothers and sisters,” Leonore Davidoff says at the start of Thicker than Water, “have been hovering in my consciousness for many decades,” and one can see the long gestation of this book in the great depth and breadth of reading that has gone into it (1). It encompasses a discussion of the different ways in which siblings and sibling relationships are currently understood theoretically, as well as a discussion of sibling relationships in metaphor and myth. Thicker than Water offers a helpful and insightful examination of the recent historiography of the family and of kinship among the middle classes in Britain across the nineteenth century, and considers a number of illustrative stories and case studies of particular families and groups of siblings over this same period. Sibling relationships were not only the longest ones that many individuals experienced in this period, they were frequently the most important ones as well—both practically, in terms of how peoples’ lives were organized, and emotionally. Hence, as Davidoff argues, the tendency to ignore them and to understand families as composed primarily of parents and children—without taking into account the lateral relationships of siblings—requires some explanation. The one she offers centres on psychology broadly defined, including both the emphasis on the Oedipal triangle in psychoanalysis and the concern with the mother-child relationship in the literature on child development. She is concerned not just to assert the significance of sibling relationships in any particular family, but also to stress the ways that they extend across generations through aunts, uncles, and cousins, making up the extended kinship networks that are so important in understanding nineteenth-century British society. The book is comprised of a series of interlinked essays, beginning by explaining the approach that Davidoff takes and the questions she asks. The volume then moves through a number of chapters dealing with relevant themes, including “close marriage” and incest; and concluding with a final section which focuses on more detailed case studies. The thematic chapters are particularly interesting, pointing as they do to some of the problems in sibling relationships that were of concern both to contemporaries and to later scholars. The chapter on “The Rise and Fall of Close Marriage,” for example, offers fascinating insights into both the extent of marriage between cousins in the early and mid-nineteenth century and to some of the concerns it generated. This kind of marriage was carefully cultivated by many different groups as a way to maintain particular communities and also to concentrate and control family capital. Sometimes, too, it was an unintended consequence of the closeness of extended families, which consistently brought cousins together and encouraged marriage. But for some, this gave rise to a concern about the possibly deleterious consequences of interbreeding and led to attempts to outlaw marriage between cousins by legislation—similar to the 1835 law which had made marriage to a deceased wife’s sister illegal. But while not legislated against, widespread social concern and the decline in the birthrate, which reduced the pool of cousins from whom anyone could choose, led to a sharp decline in close marriage. Not all the thematic chapters work as well as this one. “Sibling Intimacy and the Question of Incest” is much less satisfactory. It offers little more than a discussion of the kinds of attraction and affection that siblings might feel for each other and a series [End Page 317] of case studies of particularly close relationships in which the intensity of feeling raised questions about the possibility of it being sexual in nature and expression. While the broad range of issues and relationships covered in the book provides valuable scope, it does occasionally seem like an encyclopedia rather than a monograph. This sense is exacerbated by the care that Davidoff takes to explain the connection between particular relationships and behaviours and wider social norms and expectations—so that one understands situations...