Muslims and Citizens : Islam, Politics, and the French Revolution

358 Pages·4.332 MB·English

by  Ian Coller

Muslims and Citizens
This page intentionally left blank
(cid:2)
Muslims and Citizens
Islam, Politics, and the French Revolution
Ian Coller
new haven and london
Published with assistance from the Annie Burr Lewis Fund.
Copyright © 2020 by Ian Coller.
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, including illustrations, in any form (beyond that
copying permitted by Sections 107 and 108 of the U.S. Copyright Law and except by reviewers for the public
press), without written permission from the publishers.
Yale University Press books may be purchased in quantity for educational, business, or promotional use. For
information, please e-mail [email protected] (U.S. offi ce) or [email protected] (U.K. offi ce).
Set in Fournier MT type by IDS Infotech, Ltd.
Printed in the United States of America.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019939489
ISBN 978-0-300-24336-9 (hardcover : alk. paper)
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This paper meets the requirements of ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
Preface vii
Introduction 1
Prologue 15
1. Paris Turned Turk 24
2. The Turban and the Axe 41
3. The Rights of Muslims 61
4. The Turbans of Liberty 82
5. The Constitutional Mosque 104
6. The Muslim Republic 125
7. Islam in the Temple of Reason 148
8. The Muslim Jacobins 169
9. Robespierre Mahomet 190
10. Bonaparte’s Burka 210
Epilogue: 1799 230
Notes 241
Bibliography 297
Index 343
This page intentionally left blank
Preface
In 2011, a wave of revolutions began in Tunisia and grew in force until it
toppled dictatorships in Tunis, Cairo, and Tripoli; shook regimes in Bahrain,
Yemen, Morocco, and Iran; and sent shock waves across Africa, Asia,
Europe, and the Americas. Some commentators rushed to dub this the “Arab
1789”—as though it had taken the Arab world more than two centuries to
catch up with the West. When I visited Tunis in May 2011, it was clear that
this was not a delayed sequel but a seizing of historical agency in its own
right—a revolution that set its own precedent, and was at the same time part
of a larger seismic wave. Instead of seeing Tunisia through the lens of 1789,
I saw—and felt—the experience of the French Revolution anew through the
sense of universal possibility that knew no frontier of category or nation. I
wanted to ask a different question about 1789, seeing it not as a matrix for
thinking about later revolutions but rather as a simultaneous historical expe-
rience. It is a self-evident proposition that Muslims were part of the world of
the French Revolution. Yet that simultaneity has proven almost impossible
for many historians to imagine: the “Muslim world,” they insist, existed in a
different temporality altogether.
Three decades ago, some historians came to the conclusion that the
French Revolution was over—terminé—with the collapse of communism
and the Soviet Union, which curiously coincided with the celebration of the
bicentenary of 1789. In reality all that was “over” was an interpretation that
had tied itself to this particular world-historical outcome. The waning of the
classical paradigm liberated studies of the French Revolution to explore a
multiplicity of other dimensions of this rich, varied, and fascinating moment.
The shift in interpretation has not reduced the signifi cance of 1789: on the
contrary, it has opened up a wider fi eld for understanding the ways in which
the French Revolution shaped our shared modern world. This book sets out
to contribute to a rethinking of the Revolution for the modern age, with a
vii
viii preface
belief that its principles still have much to offer: it is not a scientifi c anatomy,
but a living refl ection.
In writing this book I was fortunate to receive a generous grant from
the Australian Research Council to complete much of the research; the
library staff at the University of California, Irvine, and La Trobe University
provided me with invaluable support. The earliest period in the gestation of
the book was spent at the European University Institute in Florence, where I
benefi ted from stimulating conversations in a glorious setting, and my ideas
were further extended in a visiting appointment at the University of Paris 8
in 2012. I am deeply grateful to my colleagues at La Trobe University for
their support and collegiality. Since arriving at UCI, I have been fortunate to
gain a wonderful range of friends and colleagues in French, European, and
world history who have pushed me to think further and refi ne my arguments.
Initial sketches of some of the arguments made here were published in edited
collections, and I would like to thank Lynn Hunt, Suzanne Desan, William
Nelson, Alan Forrest, Matthias Middell, Patricia Lorcin, Todd Shepard,
Glenda Sluga, Tim Rowse, John Harvey, Konstantina Zanou, and Maurizio
Isabella for all they have offered me in critical feedback and enrichment. As
always, I owe a huge debt to Peter McPhee, an extraordinarily generous
mentor and model, and I have benefi ted immensely from the critical advice
of Tim Tackett, a towering authority on the French Revolution. I was fortu-
nate to benefi t from the brilliance of the late Chris Bayly, a sorely missed
mentor and friend. I owe thanks and love to many friends and family: my
brothers, Ross and Matt; my sister, Jen, and her children, Leo and Lara; and
my father, Bruce, a constant support. I dedicate this book to the memory of
my mother, Mair, an endless inspiration and an incalculable loss.
Introduction
When the French arrived on the shores of Egypt in July 1798, they carried
with them a brochure printed in Arabic headed by a laurel-wreathed vignette
of Marianne carrying the familiar symbols of a pike topped by a liberty cap,
and the fasces of the French Republic bound around an axe. Beneath this
offi cial stamp ran a long string of Arabic text: “In the name of Allah, the
most gracious, the most merciful, there is no God but God, he has no son,
and no associate in his kingdom.” This statement of faith—a compilation of
the basmala, the shahada, and the renunciation of shirk, idolatry—was made
in the name of the republic. The document went further, declaring, “Tell
your people that the French are also sincere Muslims” (qu¯lu¯ li-ummatikum
‘an al-fara¯nsawiyya hum aydhan muslim¯ın kha¯lis¯ın).
What led these revolutionary Frenchmen to assert that they were
Muslims? In his fi nal years Napoléon Bonaparte explained it as a ruse to win
local support. Could Bonaparte or any other Frenchman really have imagined
that Egyptian Muslims would believe it? My answer is yes. Over the course of
the preceding decade, the French had come in some sense to believe it them-
selves, or at least to imagine it was a plausible assertion. For reasons that
emerged from 1789 and the events that followed, the revolutionaries of the
1790s came to conceive that Muslims would indeed welcome their arrival.
Egypt, they believed, could serve as the bridge for the onward march of the
French Revolution into Africa and Asia. The proclamation proudly cited the
Revolution’s destructive assault on the Roman Catholic Church as proof
that the French had abandoned doctrines incompatible with Islam. Some
Frenchmen did indeed convert—notably General Jacques-Abdullah
1