Nader Shah was perhaps the most powerful Persian monarch since the Achaemenid Period; when he was assassinated in AD 1747, he left a power vacuum in Iran which could not...
Nader Shah was perhaps the most powerful Persian monarch since the Achaemenid Period; when he was assassinated in AD 1747, he left a power vacuum in Iran which could not be filled by his weak and ineffectual successor, Adel Shah. Local tribal leaders took advantage of this situation, defecting from the Shah’s army, and presenting a significant challenge to his power. One of these tribal leaders, Karim Khan Zand, the leader of a Kurdish tribe known as the Zand, had plenty of grievances with the Persian Monarchy – Nader Shah had displaced the Zand from their traditional homeland – and became the most powerful opposition leaders. He negotiated for himself a position as commander-in-chief in the Shah’s forces. A disastrous campaign to pacify Iran from the influence of Adel Shah’s brother and successor, Ebrahim, led to Adel being blinded by the Governor of Tehran, and handed over to his enemies, who executed him. Ebrahim ruled for merely a year. In the ensuing chaos, Karim Khan Zand expanded his power, and in AD 1751, he installed his own puppet Shah – Ismail III, from the deposed Safavid Dynasty – and began his own de facto rule over the majority of Iran, with the exception of Khorasan, where Nader Shah’s grandson reigned. Karim oversaw an era of incredible peace and prosperity, during which he was known for his kind and benevolent rule. When Ismail III died, in AD 1773, Karim refused the title of Shah, instead choosing to be known as Vakilol Ro’aya, ‘advocate of the people’. Alas, the Zand Dynasty did not survive long after Karim’s death in AD 1779, and the Qajar – Turkmen tribesmen – displaced the Zand by AD 1794.
In the artistic flourishing of the Zand Period, Iranian metalworking reached something of a peak, which was continued by the succeeding Qajar. Engraved brass was an especially characteristic form, with exceptional heights of intricacy reached during the latter part of the century. This remarkable brass elephant, inlaid with silver, reflects that tradition. The creature itself is a relatively slender Asian elephant (Elephas maximus), with small ears approximately halfway down the head, gentle ovoid eyes, a long curling trunk, short tusks, and with front legs somewhat shorter than the rear. The elephant is depicted with a caparison, and a collar around his neck. Both are engraved with geometric and floriate motifs, which are inlaid with silver. But it is the figural engravings on the elephant’s head, flanks, legs and rear which are of greatest interest.
The legs bear charming representations of acrobats, standing on their hands, and staring out at the viewer. On the rear legs, div, monstrous creatures from Persian folklore, are represented. The div, along with jinn (spirits), peri (fairies), and shayatin (devils), were thought to roam the wilderness, stalking humans. The div, gigantic humanoid creatures with horns and boars’ tusks, are particularly said to relish human flesh. At the hip joints are representations of lions in combat with snakes or dragons (zahhāk), a motif borrowed from Timurid, but which originated millennia ago, and represented the Chaoskamf, the eternal combat between order and chaos. On the front legs, the lion sinks its teeth into a deer. Above the lion hunt motifs are figures of Iranian noblemen on horseback. The head displays a lush vegetal scene, rich with small birds. On each cheek, a falcon attacks another, long-necked bird, perhaps a grey heron (Ardea cinerea).
On the right lateral flank, there is a scene from the Iranian epic Shahnameh, one of the world’s longest poems, composed by Ferdowsi around AD 1000. The poem itself deals with Persian history from ancient times to the fall of the Sassanian Empire around AD 651. It relates a number of major historical events with a great deal of accuracy, but interweaves them with romantic and mythological vignettes and perspectives. The scene portrayed on our elephant refers to the pre-Islamic Persian hero Rostam. According to legend, Rostam was required to save his over-confident king Kay Kavus from a clan of divs. The resulting quest is known as the ‘Seven Labours of Rostam’ (haftkhan e-Rostam), a series of challenges which are similar to the famous Twelve Labours of Herakles from Greek mythology. The final challenge was to hunt and kill the div-e sepid, the White Demon, who was the king of the divs. The White Demon had not only captured Kay Kavus, but had also blinded him. Rostam killed him, and used his magical blood to cure Kay Kravus. In the engraving on our elephant, a heavily-bearded Rostam looms over the White Demon, holding him down with one arm, the other raised over his shoulder and holding a curvaceous dagger with which he intends to despatch the demon. Div-e sepid himself is on his back, strong ovoid face glancing up to his killer, substantial horns protruding from his temples. The White Demon is attended by a further div, who stands to one side, watching on helplessly as Rostam deals with his master. Both Rostam and the divs are presented as wearing chainmail jerkins and decorated loincloths.
The elephant’s other flank depicts a somewhat more tragic scene: a vignette from the love story Layla o Majnun, an old Arabic story reflecting themes similar to other traditional romantic tragedies like those of Romeo and Juliet and Pyramus and Thisbe. In the tale, a young poet named Qays falls in love with the beautiful Layla, and begins an aggressive and relentless campaign to woo her, largely through the composition of elaborate poems in her honour. Scoffing at his lovesickness, the locals consider him mad, nicknaming him Majnun (‘one who is possessed by a jinn). The rumour that Qays is mentally ill reaches Layla’s family, who forbid their union as a result. Layla is forcibly married to a wealthy merchant, and is taken away to live with him in northern Arabia. Hearing of her marriage, Qays does actually lose his mind, wandering aimlessly through the wilderness. Eventually, his family give up hope for his return, Layla continues to pine for her beloved; when her husband dies unexpectedly, Layla finally believes she and Qays will be reunited. But, tradition demanded that she spend two years in mourning, without leaving the home. Faced with two more years apart from Qays, she dies of heartbreak. Qays, upon hearing of this, makes a pilgrimage to her graveside, composing a number of poems in her memory, before himself dying of loneliness and exhaustion. The vignette on our elephant’s left flank shows Majnun nude and grasping his own knees, his body emaciated, a well-studied look of genuine anguish on his face. The poor man is attended by animals – a monkey, a lion, and a bird which sits on his shoulder. In the original tale, Qays was protected at night by the creatures of the wilderness, who were attracted to the lovelorn. Near him, Layla sits in a chair, richly adorned in clothes befitting her status as a wealthy merchant’s wife. It is unclear whether this is an imagined reunion, an alternate happy ending perhaps, or whether she perhaps represents Layla’s ghost.
This elephant presents something of an enigma. The sculpture was cast in two halves before being engraved, and the parts have since separated. The parts were soldered together at some point in its history, with some very poor soldering work. One would think that a collector would take greater care in repairing such an artistically accomplished piece. Alternatively, the split between the two halves may be the result of a casting defect. But, if this is the case, we must ask why the artisan did not discard the piece and begin again. One suggestion made to this author, which satisfyingly squares this circle, is that the piece did indeed suffer from casting defects, but the master at the workshop gave this to one of his students as a practice piece. The student experimented with various themes and techniques across the elephant’s surface, drawing from the kinds of stories upon which most Persians could draw. This would explain the lack of thematic unity among the piece’s decoration. If this is the result of a student’s work, however, we must presume that he far outdid his own master, producing engravings of exceptional artistic quality.