Review of Eileen Kane's Russian Hajj

Friday, June 16, 2017

EILEEN KANE. Russian Hajj: Empire and the Pilgrimage to Mecca. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2015. Pp. xiii, 241. $35.00. 

Eileen Kane’s Russian Hajj: Empire and the Pilgrimage to Mecca traces what Kane describes as “the story of how Russia became patron of the hajj” (20). The book is primarily concerned with highlighting Russia’s “sponsorship” of the Muslim hajj to Mecca. To her credit, Kane makes a provocative argument in this volume, but the events she relates in support of this view tend to be more anecdotal than systematic. Chapters 1 and 2 look at the activities of a smallish number of tsarist bureaucrats working in Russia’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, their assistance to Muslim pilgrims, and their proposals for legalizing the hajj, which was prohibited outright by Russian authorities for much of the nineteenth century. Chapter 3 discusses the decision by state officials in Russia to allow two steamship companies to transport pilgrims to the Ottoman Empire. Chapter 4 is devoted mainly to outlining the undertakings of one Said Gani Saidazimbaev, who provided false credentials to tsarist officials in his efforts to win their support for organizing the transportation of Muslim pilgrims. Chapter 5 describes the Soviet government’s cooperation in allowing foreign Muslims (but not Soviet ones) to transit across the USSR en route to Mecca. 

Source-wise, Kane employs mainly Russian imperial archival sources from St. Petersburg, Tbilisi, and the Foreign Ministry that showcase instances in which tsarist officials sought to work with, rather than persecute or harass, Muslim pilgrims. These materials are useful, but they would have been much more effective had they been discussed alongside the far larger set of documents in these same archives that demonstrate that Russian officials usually sought to prevent the hajj, rather than sponsor it. Meanwhile, Kane’s use of Ottoman materials seems to hold mainly symbolic value. She cites, by my count, a total of four documents from the enormous holdings of the Ottoman archives relating to Muslim pilgrims and Russia, raising the question of what, if anything, a professionally trained historian could expect to learn from such a tiny sample size. In any event, Kane does very little with the Ottoman materials, describing their contents in only general terms. 

Kane could have made up for the deficiencies on the Ottoman side of this study through closer engagement with Ottoman scholars whose work relates directly to Muslim cross-border travel between Russia and the Ottoman Empire. The Ottoman historian Ladle Can, for example, draws heavily from the Ottoman archives to look at the activities of Muslim pilgrims from Russia, but her work receives only perfunctory attention in this volume. Kane also appears unaware that the diplomatic assistance to Muslim pilgrims that was offered by tsarist Foreign Ministry officials was in fact provided to virtually any Russian Muslim residing in or traveling through the Ottoman Empire, whether or not they were on a pilgrimage. Whereas Kane sees this diplomatic assistance—which makes up much of the source material and arguments in the book’s first two chapters—as evidence that Russia was “asserting itself as patron and protector of hajj pilgrims” (36), better engagement with the historiography surrounding Russian Muslims in the Ottoman Empire would have indicated that this assistance had little or nothing to do specifically with their status as hajjis. 

For this reason and others, the overall argument of this book—that the Russian government was a hajj “sponsor”—does not correspond well with the relevant source material available in either the Russian or the Ottoman archives, and thus feels rather forced. Tsarist statesmen and bureaucrats viewed the hajj in a variety of ways, but the great majority of these officials—and their policies relating to the hajj—were focused upon either prohibiting or limiting Muslim pilgrimage across borders. While Kane at times appears ready to acknowledge this fact in the form of occasional caveats and asides, too much time and energy is spent trying to divert the reader’s attention away from what seems like a rather obvious point: Russia was by no means a “protector” of the hajj, and the few tsarist officials seeking to engage the pilgrimage more proactively—who themselves often held a personal financial stake in these proposals—were in most cases either ignored or shouted down.

Once Kane gets beyond the introduction and the book’s first two chapters and begins examining the handful of modest proposals that envisioned creating officially sanctioned hajj routes, Russian Hajj becomes more complex and interesting. Particularly in chapters 3 and 4, it is possible to catch glimpses of what this book could have been had Kane not been so determined to view the overall story from the perspective of such a small number of outlying cases. In these useful chapters, Kane skillfully outlines the ill-fated, short-lived, and halfhearted efforts that a small number of state officials made to legalize the hajj, and shows that there was considerable pushback against these proposals. These examples demonstrate the potential for a much more nuanced discussion of Russia’s hajj-related policies than Kane’s oft-repeated declarations of “sponsorship” allow for. Had Kane simply embraced the multiplicity inherent within tsarist attitudes toward the hajj—including those of both the hostile majority and the much less commonly seen outliers—the argument at the center of this study would have been much more convincing. 

Kane is on much stronger ground in arguing that that the tsarist state shared a far more complex relationship with Muslims than was perceived by an earlier generation of scholars obsessed with the theme of Muslim-state conflict in Russia. Echoing the views of Robert D. Crews, whose work has clearly influenced this volume profoundly, Kane rightly calls for looking more closely at points of engagement between St. Petersburg and the empire’s Muslim communities. While the weaknesses of these older approaches have already been exposed in the work of Crews and others, Russian Hajj nevertheless provides yet another useful counterpoint to the outdated notion that the tsarist state and Muslim communities were relentless adversaries. 

JAMES H. MEYER Montana State University

American Historical Review, June 2017, Vol. 122, No. 3 (June 2017), pp. 807- 808. 

*

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Reading, writing, and walking around in St. Petersburg

Saturday, April 29, 2017

I've been in St. Petersburg for about a week now. This is the fourth time I've researched here. The first was in 2002, when I came here for two months as a second-year PhD student for language training and exploratory research in the archive. I returned for three months in 2004 during the course of an academic year spent in Russia under the auspices of a Fulbright student grant, most of which was spent in Kazan. And then, in June of 2010, I spent a month here after finishing up my first year at Montana State, doing supplemental research for my dissertation that ended up going into Turks Across Empires. So, up until the moment that I stepped off the night train from Moscow last Sunday morning, it had been nearly seven years since I'd set foot in this town. 



Moscow-Kazan-St. Petersburg

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Since getting back from Morocco two weeks ago, I've been pretty busy. Mainly, I've been finishing up work in the archives where I've been working in Moscow, but I also managed to head down to Kazan last weekend for a short visit. 

Bauman Street in Kazan



















A quick break: Morocco

Thursday, April 13, 2017

I'd been in Moscow for six months, and it was time to leave the country. According to the terms of my visa, I need to exit Russia at least once every six months, even if only to turn around and immediately head back. At the same time, however, the Fulbright grant that brought me to Russia makes allowance for up to two weeks out of the country, and we're encouraged to make use of it. 


So, I decided to take their advice. 

Arriving in Marrakesh  













Emerging from winter...

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

I woke up the other day from a dream. It was a version of the classic student dream that many people have, the one where it's the day of your final exam and you haven't been to class all semester and don't know where the exam is being held, and one hurdle after another emerges to stymie all efforts to get to where you need to go.

Only in the version of the dream I'd had, it was the first day of class. I had suddenly realized that I was supposed to teach that day, but had done no preparation, had made no copies of the syllabus, let alone write one, and had not even ordered books for the class yet. And where was I when it occurred to me, in this dream, that I had to go to school and teach? A banya, of course. 















Fortunately, I soon woke up from this nightmare to realize that I was safe and sound in my apartment in Moscow, still six months away from the beginning of my next class. Nevertheless, I found the symbolism apt. A Russian bath probably would be the best place to realize that the school year had started without me.