First of all, may I say how warmly I welcome this opportunity to express something of what I owe to French masters, colleagues, and friends. Half a century ago, when I first became concerned with the history of the Middle East as a young instructor at the American University of Beirut, I might have found it more difficult to say this. France itself was unknown to me at that time. I looked at it mainly as the rather unsuccessful ruler of the country where I was living and working, and to which I was bound by ancestral ties. My attitude may have expressed something of the Arab nationalist sentiment of most of my colleagues and students at the American University, and also something of the tradition of Anglo-French rivalry in the Levant.

Despite a growing literature on peasant movements in the early 20th century, the story of the peasant rebellions of the Caspian region at the time of the Iranian Constitutional Revolution of 1906–11 has been little studied.1 A close look at three sets of materials—the newspapers of the Constitutional Revolution, among them Majlis (1906–1908), Anjuman (1906–1909), Habl al-Matīn (1907–1909), and Sūr-i Isrāfīl (1907–8); British diplomatic reports; and several regional studies and memoirs of the period—reveal that, during the First Constitutional Period of 1906–1908, a number of strikes and sit-ins were carried out by the peasants, often with the support of craftsmen and workers, who had initiated trade union activity. Such revolts were considerably more sustained and prominent in the northern areas of Gilan and Azerbayjan, which were directly influenced by the flow of radical ideas from the Russian Caucasus; they also benefited from a long history of social struggle among the craftsmen and small shopkeepers (pīshahvarāns), who maintained their guilds, and a tradition of alliances among the craftsmen, the urban poor, and the poor peasants.2

In the 1980s public policy shifted sharply in favor of market-based solutions, in contrast to the previously dominant “Keynesian” approach to economic management. A number of countries, irrespective of their regimes or stages of development, are currently implementing programs designed to reduce the size and scope of the public sector and strengthen the market. The privatization of public enterprises constitutes a key element in such a strategy.1 Yet hitherto, the extent of privatization—the number of enterprises involved as well as the scale of divestiture—has been extremely limited, especially considering the amount of rhetoric the idea has generated. In addition, the vigor with which privatization policies have been pursued also shows considerable variation among countries. These “stylized facts” of privatization clearly merit an explanation.2 Here I will look for that explanation by using the Turkish experience with privatization between 1980 and 1989 as a case study.

The effect of the coming of Islam on the condition of women has long been a subject of debate among scholars with divergent interests in the Muslim world, including Protestant missionaries, anthropologists, Muslim reformists, apologists, and feminists. The central question upon which this subject is focused has been couched in language of mutually exclusive extremes: Did Islam at its inception bring about an improvement in women's condition, or was Islam responsible for bringing about inequalities between men and women in Muslim societies? The purpose of this article is to suggest new directions for exploring the effect of Islam on women, to confront the inadequacy of the sources and methods that are presently brought to bear on the issues, and to introduce Christian sources to a debate that has been carried out within a self-contained Muslim-Arab context

It is a widespread pattern in many countries in the Third World for men to leave their families and migrate long distances in order to earn money. The effects of labor migration are usually studied using a macro approach: how migration effects the wages, labor supplies, and governmental policies on the national level. In this study, labor migration is studied using a micro approach: the effect of the migration of the husband on the relationships between husband and wife, mother and child, and wife and in-laws.

Traveling from al-Minya, Egypt, north to Cairo by train in the mid-1980s, an observer could not help but notice the large numbers of women and children working in the lush agricultural plots adjacent to the railroad tracks. In fact, throughout the northern Sa⊂id and the Delta, too, women seemed to have taken over the fields. Furthermore, upon arriving at the Agriculture Ministry in Giza, a listener frequently overheard remarks referring to the “alarming” rise in the feminization of Egyptian agriculture. Yet Egyptian farm women have always lent a hand to agricultural production. So what, in recent years, has generated such a large-scale “invasion” of women into men's jobs? Particularly in light of the strict segregation of women from men, and their seclusion in the privacy of the home, what has brought about this public display of women?