by Jared Rubin
A second explanation is that the Islamic world had clearly fallen behind economically by the end of the nineteenth century. Within the Ottoman Empire, foreigners and non-Muslims monopolized numerous markets, and trade capitulations given by the Ottoman government to foreign merchants further disadvantaged Muslim commerce.40 Because of this, the relative decline of the Islamic world was a common theme in the calls for reform. For example, the noted Iranian reformer Sayyid Jamal al-Din al-Afghani (1838–1897) called for a reformation similar to Luther’s so that Islamic societies would “succeed someday in breaking its bonds and marching resolutely in the path of civilization after the manner of Western society.”41 Other reformists saw the relative decline of the Islamic world as a reason to call for a return to the fundamentals of early Islam, in a manner not too different from calls by twenty-first-century groups like the Taliban.42
Most importantly, the spread of the printed word aided nineteenth-century Islamic reform movements. Until the 1860s, most printed books in the Islamic world were secular, and those that were religious were mostly reprints of classic texts. This meant that the flow of religious information and ideas remained monopolized by the religious establishment, who had incentive to maintain this monopoly in order to maintain their grip on their primary source of influence. This situation changed in the mid-nineteenth century. The Ottoman government set up the first permanent press in Damascus in 1865, and the Egyptian newspaper market boomed under the reign of Isma’il (r. 1863–1879).43 This had the important effect of taking religious thought out of the hands of religious scholars. For the first time in the history of the Islamic world, the religious elite were not sole producers, interpreters, or transmitters of intellectual and religious thought. The printing press made legal, political, and religious knowledge open to interpretation by any literate person. This point is made clear by Francis Robinson (1993, p. 245):
[Printing did] serious damage to the roots of the [religious scholar’s] authority … they were no longer necessarily around when the book was read to make up for the absence of the author in the text; … their monopoly of the transmission of knowledge was broken. Books … could now be consulted by any Ahmad, Mahmud or Muhammad, who could make what they will of them.
These three features – the spread of education, the relative economic stagnation of the Islamic world, and the spread of the printing press – helped establish an environment in which calls for Islamic reform were common.44 It is unlikely that such calls would have had any impact in a previous era, even if Muslims desired such reform. The works of those who did call for reform in earlier periods are prima facie evidence of this. For example, the famous Islamic scholar Taqi ad-Din Ahmad ibn Taymiyyah (1263–1328) called extensively for reform, although, ironically, present-day conservative Islamists consider him a champion. But the impact of his calls on mainstream thought were limited, since the transmission of ideas in his day were dependent on traditional channels, particularly the madrassa system.45
Although some of the background and institutional details were similar, it would be a mistake to claim that the calls for an Islamic Reformation followed the same path as the Protestant Reformation. Many of the Protestants’ complaints were against the practices of the pope and the centralized Church, giving the Protestants a concrete target against whom to voice their displeasure. This was not the case in the Islamic world, and for this reason the messages underlying the calls for Islamic reform did not focus on one particular body. It would thus not be wise to take the analogy between the “Islamic reform” movement and the Protestant Reformation too far, but it is still instructive to draw comparisons between the two. Both movements called for a revolt against traditional authority and institutions far removed from their initial purpose and message. In the case of the Reformation, practices such as the selling of indulgences and simony were merely the tip of the iceberg highlighting just how far removed the late medieval Church was from its origins. Islamic reformers had different types of grievances, although they similarly rejected traditional authorities. One important example was their desire for independent reasoning (ijtihad) to be widely practiced. While there were certainly recent precedents for the use of ijtihad and the “gate of ijtihad” was not closed in theory or in practice (see Chapter 3), the reformers believed that the opposite of ijtihad – following old opinions without knowledge of the bases from which it was derived (taqlid) – dominated discourse. Reformers such as Muhammad Abduh, Jamal al-Din al-Afghani, Rashid Rida, Sayyid Ahmad Khan, and Muhammad Iqbal blamed taqlid for the stagnation of the Islamic world, claiming that wider use of ijtihad would make Islamic law more adaptable to their present-day problems.46
The practical intention of both movements was to modernize religion. Although the theological arguments made by the Protestants pointed to reverting to the “original Church,” in practice the Reformation’s most important adherents were merchants, princes, and bourgeoisie who saw it as an opportunity to rid society of the archaic and economically detrimental institutions of the Church. Likewise, Islamic reformers such as the famous Iranian Ali Shari’ati (1933–1977) argued that Islam was “living at the end of the Medieval period,” and would follow a path similar to the Protestants who “found their new destiny by destroying their old faith, and transforming traditional Catholicism to a protesting, world-minded, political, and materialist Protestantism.” He went on to urge Muslims to embrace “an Islamic Protestantism similar to that of Christianity in the Middle Ages, destroying all the degenerating factors which, in the name of Islam, have stymied and stupefied the process of thinking and the fate of the society, and giving birth to new thoughts and new movements.”47
What Could Have Been?
It is easy to ask “what could have been” when reflecting on history. What could have happened had Ottomans subjects had the ability to quickly spread the printed word centuries earlier than they actually did? It is certainly possible that local notables or other well-connected economic elite could have encouraged movements to reduce the legitimizing power of religious authorities. Had this occurred, the world would likely be a very different place today, and it is possible that an Ottoman economic resurgence could have taken place in a manner similar to what occurred in early modern England or the Dutch Republic.
Such a sequence of events never occurred. Does this mean that the Islamic world was doomed from the dawn of Islam to long-run economic stagnation? The answer is an unqualified no. It is true that the path that some European countries took was less likely to emerge in the Islamic world, although it was hardly impossible for the Ottomans, or any other Muslim polity, to follow this path. Moreover, it is also true that the path that Western Europe took to economic success is by no means the only path. Yet, this does not mean that it is useless to ignore the path that the successful Western European economies did take. The following two chapters take on this task, showing how two Protestant nations – England and the Dutch Republic – chartered the path to economic success, while one Catholic nation (Spain) and the Ottoman Empire lagged behind.
7
Success: England and the Dutch Republic
In the first half of the sixteenth century, Western Europe seemed primed for a takeoff. The recently discovered New World promised untold wealth, large centralized states controlled an increasingly large fiscal apparatus, and a larger portion of its population lived above subsistence. Throughout the continent, skilled workers were able to feed and clothe their families at about 1.5 to 2 times the amount necessary for subsistence, and even unskilled workers were at or slightly above subsistence in most cities. This was not destined to last, however. Over the next two to three centuries, living standards plummeted throughout most of the continent; by the late eighteenth century, even skilled workers could barely afford a subsistence-level basket of goods in most of the continent, and unskilled workers almost everywhere made below-subsistence wages.
What happened? The most accepted explanation is that European wages were artificially high in th
e fifteenth and sixteenth centuries because of the ravages of the fourteenth-century Black Death.1 After one-third to one-half of the European population died in the span of a half-century, those that survived were in a good position in the labor market. Workers were scarce, and the value of labor consequently increased. This upward pressure on wages lasted for centuries; the European population did not recover back to the pre–Black Death levels until sometime in the latter half of the sixteenth century – allowing Europe to escape the “Malthusian trap” for about two centuries. In a Malthusian trap, population growth eventually wipes out economic gains from temporary shocks such as demographic or technological change. People are better off for a while – the production and consumption of goods and services per capita increases – but because they are better off, they also feel that they can have more children. Eventually, these extra mouths eat up all of the gains reaped from the initial shock, and people only stop having excess children when they near subsistence income.2 This is what purportedly happened in much of Europe beginning around the late sixteenth century. European populations eventually reached their pre–Black Death levels, at the cost of lower wages for workers.
But this is not the entire story. While real wages certainly decreased throughout most of the continent, northwestern Europe was largely able to escape this fate. The welfare ratios for skilled laborers in London and Amsterdam barely changed between the first half of the sixteenth century and the eve of industrialization (see Table 7.1). Welfare ratios remained around 2 for skilled workers up through the eve of industrialization in both cities, meaning that the average worker could afford around twice the amount necessary for subsistence. While this might not seem like a positive thing – after all, this indicates that real wages stagnated for two centuries in England and the Dutch Republic – these figures stand in stark contrast with the rest of Western Europe, where welfare ratios fell precipitously.
Table 7.1 Population-Weighted Welfare Ratios for Skilled Labor, by Current Country
1500–1549 1700–1749 Change Religion
England (UK) 2.19 2.21 0.02 Protestant
Netherlands 2.02 2.02 0.00 Protestant
Germany 1.56 1.06 –0.49 Mixed
Austria 1.87 1.33 –0.54 Catholic
Belgium 2.41 2.23 –0.18 Catholic
France 1.44 1.26 –0.18 Catholic
Italy 1.82 1.38 –0.43 Catholic
Poland 1.69 1.64 –0.05 Catholic
Spain 1.79 1.71 –0.08 Catholic
Sources: Welfare Ratios – Allen (2001); Population – Bosker et al. (2013).
Meanwhile, the urban population of England and the Dutch Republic skyrocketed, while it rose slowly elsewhere in Western Europe (see Table 7.2). This is yet another indicator that something was different in England and the Dutch Republic. Urban populations were among the best markers of economic success in the preindustrial world. Higher populations meant that there was the capacity to feed the urban population, and urbanites were generally engaged in the production of luxury goods or trade. Yet, premodern cities were notoriously unhealthy places to live, with death rates much higher than birth rates. Evidently, rapid immigration – driven by higher wages – was the main driver of growing urban populations. So, while England and the Dutch Republic were hardly “taking off” in the manner that the industrializing nations did after the Industrial Revolution, they were able to maintain the artificially high wages that followed in the aftermath of the Black Death. Of course, these wages were no longer artificially high; they became the norm, and increased even more dramatically following the onset of industrialization.
Table 7.2 Total Population (in 1,000s) of Ten Largest Cities, by Current Country
1500 1700 1800 Per annum % Change 1500–1700 Per annum % Change 1500–1800 Religion
England (UK) 88 736 1,539 1.07% 0.96% Protestant
Netherlands 136 500 474 0.65% 0.42% Protestant
Germany 251 368 623 0.19% 0.30% Mixed
Belgium 275 369 357 0.15% 0.09% Catholic
France 583 992 1,216 0.27% 0.25% Catholic
Italy 707 1,078 1,369 0.21% 0.22% Catholic
Spain 376 527 756 0.17% 0.23% Catholic
Note: Only countries with at least ten cities by 1700 included.
Source: Bosker et al. (2013).
The previous chapter proposed a reason why England and the Dutch Republic were able to escape the negative economic fate that much of the rest of Europe suffered in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries: they both adopted the Reformation, and their political institutions changed as a result. By the end of the sixteenth century, the religious elite had little capacity to legitimize rule in Protestant Europe. In order to propagate their rule, Protestant rulers turned to other, more expensive means of legitimacy. Meanwhile, in Catholic Europe and the Ottoman Empire, religion and religious institutions remained important sources of legitimacy. This is not to say that Protestant rulers refrained from cloaking their dictates in the context of religion; Queen Elizabeth I was famous for doing just this. Yet the Reformation diminished the efficacy of religious legitimation. In Protestant countries, this affected the cost-benefit analysis associated with the choice of propagating agents. While religion remained the least costly option for legitimizing rule, the Reformation dramatically reduced its benefit. Hence, Protestant kings and queens transitioned to alternative means of propagating rule.
This chapter traces these changes and their long-run economic effects. Its primary implication is that it matters who propagates political rule. Where propagating agents had incentives consistent with economic success, economic success was more likely to follow. Conversely, insecure property rights and minimal investment in public goods were the norm throughout much of history, because the groups that historically propagated rule – especially the religious establishment and militaries – were not overly concerned with them. This changed following the Reformation. In Protestant states, the religious establishment’s loss was the economic elite’s gain; the latter saw its political influence soar following the Reformation.
The remainder of this chapter overviews the consequences of these changes in the two Protestant nations that were the most successful in the post-Reformation period: England and the Dutch Republic. As late as 1500, neither one would have been an obvious candidate for an economic takeoff. England was just getting over a bloody, prolonged civil war (the War of the Roses) and was behind the Southern European powers and possibly even the Ottoman Empire in terms of military power, technology, and economic development. The northern Netherlands (modern-day Netherlands) was in a much better position to succeed than England was, but was well behind the southern Netherlands (modern-day Belgium). The great merchant and finance centers of northwestern Europe at the turn of the sixteenth century were located in Antwerp and Bruges, not Amsterdam. The southern Netherlands, which remained Catholic, was clearly in a better economic position than the northern Netherlands was. Why, then, was the seventeenth century the “Dutch century,” and why did modern economic growth begin in England? How did England and the Dutch Republic escape the Malthusian pressures that ended up crushing many European economies throughout the early modern period?
Post-Reformation England
England adopted the Reformation in the 1530s under Henry VIII (r. 1509–1547). After a brief spell at attempted reconversion to Catholicism under the Catholic Queen Mary I (r. 1553–1558), England permanently adopted Anglicanism under Queen Elizabeth I (r. 1558–1603). There are some idiosyncrasies in England’s history that do not generalize to all Protestant nations, but analyzing the changing church-state relations in England is especially important given its eventual economic and technological dominance.
Prior to the Reformation, English monarchs propagated their rule by two sources: the Church and Parliament. These were sometimes overlapping classes, with churchmen holding numerous seats in the House of Lords. The term “parliament” first appeared in the 1230s, and the first parliaments propagated the king by providing him tax revenue. In
return, members of Parliament were able to conduct trials by their peers and had the right to reject future tax increases. Parliament consisted of three groups – the clergy, nobility, and economic elite – with the slowly growing commercial cities having their first representatives as early as 1275.3 The role of the thirteenth-century Parliaments was limited to local tax collection. During the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, both houses attained a legislative role as kings increasingly gave concessions in order to fund long and expensive wars. By the time that the first Tudor, Henry VII (r. 1485–1509), ascended to the throne, Parliament was a taxing, legislative, and consultative institution. The king could not make, amend, or repeal laws or impose taxes without the consent of Parliament.4
The Church was also a key player in the propagation regime prior to the Reformation. The importance of religious legitimation dates back at least to William the Conqueror (r. 1066–1087), who conquered England with the support of a papal blessing and a consecrated banner that gave William’s conquest the aura of a religious crusade. Henry II (r. 1154–1189) secured a similar blessing for his proposed conquest of Ireland a century later. King John I (r. 1199–1216) went even further, appealing to the Church to protect him from his angry barons and agreeing to surrender his crown to the pope – with the pope returning it to John as a fief – in return for papal support. Indeed, the Church was England’s only pre-Reformation organization with enough wealth and power to place it beyond the control of the monarch.5 As the primary landholder in England, owning around 30 percent of all English land at the time of the Reformation, the Church had incentive to propagate any ruler who established law and order and protected the Church’s right to its vast properties.
