Iran has experienced the rare phenomenon of having two pro-Soviet Communist parties simultaneously: the Hizb-i Tudah-i Iran (Party of the Iranian Masses), known as the Tudah; and the Firqah-i Dimukrat-i Azarbayjan (Democratic Party of Azarbayjan), or simply, the Firqah-i Dimukrat.

The classical Muslim modernists of the nineteenth century envisaged Islamic Reform as a comprehensive venture: it took in its purview law, society, politics and intellectual, moral and spiritual issues. It dealt with questions of the law of evidence, the status of women, modern education, constitutional reforms, the right of a Muslim to think for himself, God and the nature of the universe and man and man's freedom. A tremendous intellectual fervour and ferment were generated. The liberals and the conservatives battled; the intellectual innovators were opposed and supported, penalized and honored, exiled and enthusiastically followed. Although the modernist movement dealt with all the facets of life, nevertheless, in my view, what gave it point and significance was its basically intellectual élan and the specifically intellectual and spiritual issues with which it dealt. This awakening struck a new and powerful chord in the Muslim mind because intellectual issues had remained for centuries under a state of selfimposed dormancy and stagnation at the instance of conservative orthodoxy. The nineteenth century was also the great age of the battle of ideas in the West, ideas and battles whose strong injections into Muslim society found a ready response. The character of this movement was then primarily intellectual and spiritual.

One of the most critical aspects of the efforts of nineteenth-century Ottoman statesmen to save the Empire lay, without doubt, in the field of bureaucratic reform. Within this field, moreover, the plight of the declining, traditional Empire in an age of expanding European power obviously marked the development of an effective Foreign Ministry as a matter of particular necessity. Yet, the efforts made to create such a ministry proved that here, as so often in the history of reform and development, the very changes which were most needed tended, by a fateful irony, to be those most difficult to effect.

In the late nineteenth century, when American boys were devouring the success stories of Horatio Alger and cultivating the prescribed virtues of thrift and industry in hopes of jumping from rags to riches overnight, boys on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean were dreaming similar dreams. The Christian boy of the Levant was particularly drawn to such success stories. His decision for a business career was not entirely of his own choosing, for as members of a Christian minority in a Muslim land his ancestors had long been excluded from the most prestigious official careers of the Ottoman Empire–the bureaucracy, the military, and the Muslim religious profession. Since these choice callings were reserved for Muslims, the dhimmî subjects of the Sultan had no choice but to concentrate their energies on banking and trading, shopkeeping and shipping. Making the best of the situation, the indigenous Christian of the Ottoman Empire threw himself into these business careers and sometimes amassed such a fortune that he came to occupy unofficial positions of considerable influence. Often his position as agent and protégé of a European shipping house gave him a decided advantage over Muslim merchants. Increasing the toehold given to it by the Capitulations agreements, Europe made its power increasingly felt in the Middle East during the nineteenth century, and the protégé of a European power could no longer be treated arbitrarily by Ottoman authorities.