Five Years in a Persian Town

by Napier Malcolm

The single figure on the right is a Jew, with his book for divining. The Persians use the Jews as diviners a good deal.

Another difficulty in seeing enquirers in the house is the arrangement of times. Missionaries are sometimes blamed for not sufficiently consorting with Europeans in the ordinary amusements of the colony, but there is one great difficulty about this. The times when you naturally take exercise in the East are the times when the native artisan or shopkeeper is off work. Supposing that the evangelistic missionary is seldom at home at such times as these, the more industrious Persians get to regard him as inaccessible, and his enquirers begin to consist of people who for some reason or other have very little to do. It is hardly necessary to enter into the difficulties that may follow.

We have been hitherto speaking only of directly evangelistic methods of missionary work; but almost all missionaries have something to do with philanthropic work also. These philanthropic efforts are not solely undertaken as means to an end. In most cases they are treated as an end in themselves by the missionary, and generally speaking they are things which could not well be left undone. Medical missionaries will tell you that their standing orders are to heal the sick and preach the Gospel; but I think we may say very much more generally that the presentation of the Gospel without adequate and proportionate care for the minds and bodies of those surrounding us, would be impossible. For the Gospel is the message of our Saviour, and any message that was so delivered would entirely fail to represent that Saviour’s attitude. I doubt whether any one would call in question this aspect of the case, but when we come to discuss how much philanthropic work is really necessary, we are face to face with a difficult problem. In matters like this the decision must depend not only upon the needs of the people with whom the missionaries are brought in contact, but also upon the nature of the church or congregation of Christians that supports them, and whose material as well as spiritual force they are appointed to convey to the mission field. There is a great difference between the position of a band of men sent out by an infinitesimal body of earnest Christians who have the greatest difficulty in subscribing the means of their support, and that of a band sent out by an exceedingly wealthy Christian church.

Present-day missionaries sent out by the Church Missionary Society have passed outside the conditions of the first class, but they cannot be said to fully belong to the second. They are supported by a large number of people, but those who give most are generally those whose purses are least elastic. In the countries to which they go they are treated with the greatest courtesy by British officials, and accepted as representatives of the religion of England by their fellow-countrymen. Naturally the native expects more from them than they are really able to give, and this increases the difficulty when they have to decide what they are bound to do as ministers of Christ and as representatives of those who send them, for the people committed to their charge. Naturally, and I think rightly, they do not wholly shut their eyes to the attitude and expectations of the natives. But, unfortunately, the Persians think that there ought to be no difficulty about anything. The average native cannot get out of his head the idea that we are sent by the Government, or, if not by the Government, by the whole nation under its religious authorities. Those who know anything of English thought and feeling realise that foreign missions are now well established in the popular regard in England, and many Yezdis have a confused notion that in our country education, medical attendance, and support in old age are free to everybody, irrespective of class, and that as Christians we are all anxious to extend this system as far as we can to other nations. Of course views like this are variable, but it may be seen after a moment’s consideration that in a country where the need for schools, for hospitals, and sometimes for relief is very real, and where the native is capable of believing such absurdities about the European as have been stated, if the missionary does not to a large extent take up the white man’s burden, he is likely to lose any influence which God may have given him. Consequently I think we may say that the philanthropic work of missionaries in Persia must not only be regarded as a means to evangelisation, although this is an aspect which must largely determine its importance. Primarily it is a spiritual necessity created by three things, the comparative wealth of the Christians who send out the missionaries, the comparative poverty of the natives who are ready to be relieved, and the obvious commandment of Almighty God.

Philanthropic work in Yezd is of three kinds; medical work, school work, and the work of poor relief. The last is of course not recognised or supported by the Church Missionary Society. It is not within the scope of this book to deal with either of these three provinces of work in detail. All that I wish at present to explain is the way in which they seem to strike the Persian mind, and contribute to the general campaign of the mission.

Relief work is of all the three most absolutely necessitated by the essential difference between the circumstances of the missionary and his supporters on the one hand, and those of a certain section of the natives on the other. But from an evangelistic standpoint it is the least directly productive in effect; so we have never in Yezd used for this purpose any funds not specially subscribed for it, and such money has been collected almost entirely from the resident Europeans. There is a very great deal of terrible poverty in Persia which is not touched by the native charities. In Yezd, particularly towards the end of our stay in the town, things were in a very bad way. Yezd is really an industrial town, and not less than half of the grain supply comes from outside, chiefly from the Shiraz district. Most of the people are silk weavers. The silkworms used to be reared in the Yezd district, but the extreme droughts rendered this source of supply very insecure, and after the great famine that occurred some years ago there were not sufficient trees left for the business to be continued in this way. Cocoons were then brought from Rasht, and this system proved more satisfactory till lately, when the Rasht cocoons were diverted to France and Italy. The natural result was a great deal of poverty in Yezd, which was most felt among the poor Jews, who since the famine year have had no looms but have devoted themselves to winding and spinning the silk. Then again, after the Babi massacre of 1903, something had to be done for the large number of widows and orphans. In this work the Europeans were by no means alone, for the sufferers were helped both by the Babi merchants and also by a large number of the Parsis. The Parsis are generally very good in looking after their own poor, but the Mussulmans give money so indiscriminately that their charities cause more poverty than they relieve. Although the work of poor relief is not as a rule the direct means of bringing in converts, it helps the evangelistic work enormously by saving valuable time. Before it could be organised the number of begging enquirers who had the very smallest interest, if any, in the Gospel message, was so large as to seriously impede more important work. It is much easier and better to keep the two things more separate, and to be able to say to a man, “If you want to read with me, well and good, but if you want material help, then you must do so and so.” This does not necessarily mean that the man who is relieved gets no chance of hearing the Gospel. The Jews, who came in a body, used always to have a chapter of the Gospel read to them by my mirza, and any man who showed a disposition to come as a real enquirer after his case had been looked into and relieved was thoroughly welcomed. But the practice of trying to earn a kran by wasting hours of the missionary’s time was effectually discouraged.

I think also that the practice of separating poor relief as much as possible from the work with enquirers helps to explain to the native our view of the Christian Church. That some explanation is necessary is undoubted. During a severe famine in Kirman, over two hundred respectable Mussulmans, chiefly shopkeepers, came into the courtyard of the Consulate, and wanted to take protection under the British flag. Major Phillott was then Consul, and they explained to him that the price of bread was so prohibitive that they could not live any longer under the regulations of the Persian officials. Their leader was a Seyid. Major Phillott tried to explain that, although he sympathised with them greatly, he could do nothing for them unless it was to give them pecuniary help. He offered them a hundred krans, but they explained that they were not beggars. They further said that they were quite ready to become Christians if they could only get cheap bread. The end of the whole business was that the Consul paid an unofficial visit to the Governor, and got him to promise that bread should be lowered to a more or less normal price by gradual reductions spread over a period of ten days. It is easy to understand that people who could go to a Consul in a famine and ask to be accepted as Christians in order to be able to buy bread at a fair price, thinking I suppose that Consular pressure would then be brought to bear upon the Governor on their behalf, might easily get an absolutely wrong notion of what was going on, if circumstances forced the missionary whose general business was seeing enquirers to use funds for poor relief without carefully separating these two branches of work. Even the practice of giving occasional relief to very poor enquirers from one’s own purse is liable to great misinterpretation and abuse. Men will frequently come to you and ask for support, so as to enable them to leave their ordinary trades and listen to your teaching. Myself, I think that there are occasions when poor people have come from a distance and are certainly interested, where something of this kind has to be done, the man if possible being made to work for his money; but it is easy to see how extremely dangerous it would be to encourage expectations, and how easily natives might get the idea that enquiry, and still more Christianity, entitled them to payment. Consequently, even if it could not be demonstrated that an actual saving of time was effected by making of poor relief a distinct organisation, there would be still a very great deal to be said for the practice.

To administer poor relief in a town like Yezd on anything approaching to a sound system necessitates a great deal of reliance upon native information, and also a certain amount of high-handed dealing. Any food or clothing given must be of a class only acceptable to the very poorest, for otherwise the candidates for relief would be too numerous to deal with in even the roughest fashion. These considerations will explain two things; first of all it will be readily understood that it is much easier to give systematic relief to members of a native community which is more or less down-trodden, such as the Jews or Babis; for although a certain number of mistakes will be made in dealing with these peoples, they will be much less resented, and will militate much less against the success of the whole effort. Secondly, it will be obvious that such relief will not call forth very much gratitude from the recipients. The very fact of investigation gives the idea to the Persian mind that charity is given grudgingly. Also it is impossible to handle a hundred screaming women in a small compound without a certain amount of what appears to be stern dealing, and after all in most instances the relief given is not as much as we ourselves would like it to be. Added to this, most of the people receiving relief are under the impression that we are simply dispensing a small part of the large supplies sent to us for the purpose from abroad; and the Jews, of whom nearly a hundred families were receiving relief in Yezd last winter, believed that all that was given to them came from their co-religionists in Europe. The Babis of course looked upon the matter rather differently, but people who hold the theory of savabs in the way in which Persians do, have always a feeling that anything given to them means one for them and two for the giver. At the same time Persians who are interested in Christianity, and who are not themselves candidates for poor relief, see a great deal more in the system than do those who are more intimately concerned with it. They often understand that the willingness to take trouble in localising need, and the absolute recklessness with which we incur as many curses as blessings in the performance of our work, points to an utterly different ideal from that which is accepted in Islam; and whether they are prepared to approve it or not, anything which shows the native part of the fundamental distinction between Islam and Christianity must in the end be of enormous assistance in missionary work.

School work in Yezd is very greatly appreciated by a somewhat limited class, but it means continual friction. The whole Mussulman clerical class as a body are keenly opposed to it. More curiously it aroused the greatest opposition from a small but not unimportant section of the Parsis. The Parsis are a puzzling people. For though they are strong, intelligent, thrifty, industrious, grateful, and comparatively honest, they seem to have a tendency to produce in their community a sufficient number of exceptionally disagreeable specimens of humanity to greatly check their natural progress. I myself believe that this is due to the prevalence of agnosticism amongst them, but, however that may be, the result is that the Yezd community is always pestered by internal intrigues. I do not think that the opposition to my school was religious, for the dastūrs, that is the Zoroastrian priests, were always very friendly. I have always put it down rather to internal intrigue.

My school work was originally undertaken at the explicit request of the natives, and the boys came chiefly, but not wholly, from the upper classes. It would be difficult, and very questionably advisable, to start school work in a town like Yezd except under pressure from the natives. Even when the work has been forced on one, it is very difficult to maintain it. Not only is there still opposition from such quarters as I have mentioned, but it is only with the greatest difficulty that competent native assistance can be secured. If native assistance cannot be secured, the missionary who has work with enquirers will have difficulty in finding time even for short classes. Short classes may be the best thing under certain circumstances, but in a town like Yezd they do not meet the whole need. Boys are brought to you in Persia in most cases primarily to be taught English, but this demand for English is not the only requirement, nor is it the only need that is felt by the Persians. Persians will frequently tell you that they bring their boys to you for education in the largest sense; but we made it a practice in Yezd only to accept boys who wished to learn English, and whose parents could show that the knowledge of English was likely to be of some use to them. Very frequently poor lads would come, under the impression that the town was going to be occupied by Europeans, and that all who had learnt English would get remunerative employment in Yezd. The only thing to do under such circumstances was to explain the true state of affairs, and then to insist on payment being made in advance for all books, and also upon the payment of a six months’ fee. The first argument was generally rather ineffectual, but supported by the second it always had the desired result. If it could be shown that a poor boy was likely to reap advantage from a knowledge of English, fees were always remitted, and in some cases books were provided.