The Passing of Shoghi Effendi: 1896-1957
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Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: Rúhíyyih Khánum, The Passing of Shoghi Effendi: 1896-1957, London: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1958, bahai-library.com.
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The Passing of Shoghi Effendi:

1896-1957

Rúhíyyih Khánum
John Ferraby

London: Bahá'í Publishing Trust, 1958

by Amatu'l-Bahá Ruhiyyih Khanum

in collaboration with John Ferraby

ALL THOSE who were privileged to know the beloved
Guardian Shoghi Effendi from the time of his childhood
until his passing remember him as being incarnate
with life; a dynamic, almost electric force seemed to radiate
from him. He was always busy, restless, driving on to whatever
goal he had set before his eyes. He was intense in all aspects of his
nature: his phenomenal powers of concentration, his deep feelings
of passionate attachment to 'Abdu'l-Bahá, his burning conscientiousness
in carrying out his duties to the Faith of Bahá'u'lláh
as its appointed Guardian—these were all facets of the same
wonderful nature which God endowed with those special qualities
He wished to be uppermost in the one who was firmly to
lay the administrative foundations of His Faith all over the world,
and to plant the first ensigns of its victory in the four corners of
the earth.

That the Cause of God has reached the point where it stands
today is due to the self-sacrificing, constant, unsparing, truly
herculean labours of its Guardian. That his heart should have
stopped, with no warning, at the early age of sixty-one, is not so
much due to this ceaseless, tireless work, but to the sorrows and
afflictions which he endured, for the most part in reserved silence,
from the stirrers-up of dissension and the Covenant-breakers,
old and new. The early pilgrims, after the passing of 'Abdu'l-Bahá,
remember standing at Shoghi Effendi's bedside, where he
had called them to say goodbye, and looking at his face, so full of
sorrow and despair, his eyes deep-sunken and heavily shadowed,
and hearing him say he was going away, that it was too much for
him, he could not bear it. He left the Holy Land, fought his inner
battle, returned, took the helm of this Blessed Barque and steered
it for over one-third of a century through every storm and shoal.

[page 2]

But the valiant heart and frail body were receiving blows which
left their mark, and in the end took their toll.

The friends of God are well aware of the achievements of
their beloved Guardian; what they do not realize fully is that by
doing so many things personally over a period of so many years,
he, and he alone, made it possible for the big victories to take
place. The fact that he did every single thing himself saved the
Cause tremendous sums of money; with what he thus saved he
was able to go on and commence a new enterprise. For thirty-six
years he held in his hands, with power of decision vested
solely in him, the funds of the Faith at its World Centre; no expenditures
were authorized, no bills were paid that had not been
submitted to him. From the beginning of his ministry until about
1940, he saw in person the engineers, the architects, the lawyers,
who were carrying out his instructions, as well as many high
government officials; it was he who negotiated with them,
supervised their work, kept down expenses with an ingenuity
and insight truly inspired by God; it was he who instructed
where every step should be built, the height of every wall, the
spans between every planted tree, the diameter of every flower
bed—even the colours of the flowers. It was Shoghi Effendi who,
entirely aside from the glorious spiritual leadership manifested
in his letters, his books, and his words to the pilgrims, so harboured
the financial resources of the Faith that in his lifetime the
Temple in Chicago, the Shrine of the Báb on Mount Carmel,
and the International Archives Building could be completed, as
well as the extensive endowments of the Faith acquired in Haifa
and 'Akká; he made the plans and paved the way for the Temples
now being built; he was responsible for the purchase of the
Temple sites, the National Hazíratu'l-Quds and endowments, as
well as many other things during these last five years; all these
accomplishments were made possible by his vigilance and
wisdom.

[page 3]

As the Faith grew and the years went by, the beloved Guardian
received more able support from believers of capacity, serving
him in the Holy Land and abroad, but his personal supervision of
expenses, his personal decision as to what was befitting for the
Bahá'í Holy Places at the World Centre, was never laid aside. He
delegated to others interviews and negotiations locally, but the
management, the ordering of objects and furniture for the Gardens
and Holy Places, the arrangement of these, the designs and
plans for extending them, he kept solely in his own hands, practising
the same economy and showing the same genius as had
characterized all his other services to the Faith entrusted to him
by the Master in His Will.

On October 20th, 1957, the beloved Guardian arrived in London,
accompanied by Ruhiyyih Khanum, for the purpose of
ordering some furniture and objects for the interior of the International
Archives Building and the Gardens above it. He chose
London because it is an international centre where objects from
every country can be found at much cheaper prices than probably
in any other one city of the world. He planned to remain a
few days and then proceed to Haifa. As was the invariable custom
of the beloved Guardian during his absence from Haifa, no
contact was made with any Bahá'í. Ruhiyyih Khanum attended
to his mail and carried out his orders as she always did.

On Sunday afternoon, October 27th, Shoghi Effendi told
Ruhiyyih Khanum that he had a pain across his knuckles in both
hands; she asked him if he had any other pains, and he said no,
that just his fingers pained him and were stiff. He added: "I feel
so tired, so tired." She begged him to rest, saying that if he did
not wish to go to bed, at least he should rest quietly because the
probability was that he was getting the influenza which was
sweeping through Europe and indeed all over the world. (She
herself had been in bed with fever since Thursday night.) That
night he had a fever and by the following day his temperature

[page 4]

had risen to thirty-nine degrees [102.2°F]. Ruhiyyih Khanum succeeded
in finding an excellent doctor who had taken over the practice
of a well-known Harley Street physician who had retired. This
doctor was contacted and immediately prescribed medicine for
the beloved Guardian and came to see him early in the evening
when he was able to get away from his hospital. He examined
his patient very carefully; heart, chest, temperature, pulse, etc.,
and said that he considered that both the Guardian and Ruhiyyih
Khanum had cases of Asiatic influenza, the beloved Guardian's
case being the more severe.

The constant stress of work, sorrows and anxieties to which
Shoghi Effendi had been subjected had brought about a condition
of high blood-pressure, which he had had for a number of
years; he mentioned this himself sometimes to members of the
International Bahá'í Council, but he was so strong and healthy,
had such tremendous powers of endurance and vitality, that it
was difficult to persuade him to devote time to caring for himself.
However, for the past ten years he had been under the
supervision of an excellent doctor, who saw him at least twice a
year, and he had consented to take some special cures which
were good for his general health and calculated to reduce his
blood-pressure. His doctor often urged him not to overdo
things when he returned to Haifa, to get more exercise and more
rest. But the doctor could not visualize the Guardian's life in
Haifa, or the nature of his responsibility; could not know that he
had to read letters, reports, journals, and so on for between three
to eight hours a day, just to keep abreast of his work; that he
spent about four hours most afternoons and evenings, after being
up and busy from early morning, giving out what strength
he had left to the pilgrims, eastern and western; that he stood
sometimes for hours, in all weathers, directing the work he had
planned on Mount Carmel or at Bahjí; that when he was deeply

[page 5]

distressed by some situation he would not feel able to eat and
would lose much weight in a few days. About six weeks before
the Guardian passed away, he was examined by this doctor who
found him in very good health and his blood-pressure lower
than in years. The doctor who took care of him in London likewise
examined his blood-pressure and found it satisfactory and
not high.

During the week of the beloved Guardian's illness—and indeed
a number of times during the weeks before his illness—he
complained that he had no appetite. He said: "I don't know what
has happened to me. I have completely lost my appetite. I don't
eat for twenty-four hours, but I still have absolutely no appetite
whatever. It is now weeks that I have been like this. The same
thing is happening to me that happened to Bahá'u'lláh when He
lost His appetite after the death of Navváb."

On Tuesday, Ruhiyyih Khanum had recovered sufficiently
for the doctor to allow her to go out on an important errand. As
she had bronchitis following the 'flu, he would check on her condition
when he had finished his visit to the beloved Guardian,
and in this way she was able to find out from him exactly how
he felt Shoghi Effendi was progressing. This same day a very
heavy mail had been received, and as Shoghi Effendi's temperature
was still high she persuaded him not to look at it; but the
next morning he called for his mail and insisted on going over it
personally, as he always did. A great many cables were received
and answered by the beloved Guardian during this last week of
his life. He said to Ruhiyyih Khanum toward the end of the
week: "Do you realize that we have done nothing but work this
week?"

He was anxious to leave London and carry out his original
plan of returning to Haifa; however, the doctor was very severe
on this point and told him frankly that he was quite free to call in
another doctor if he wished to, but that as long as he was taking

[page 6]

care of him he could not give his consent to his departure until a
week after his temperature had fallen. The Guardian accepted
this.

The doctor was very careful of the beloved Guardian. When
he came every day, instead of being in a hurry like some doctors,
he would sit with the Guardian, examine him thoroughly, and
stay usually a half-hour, and one evening he remained an hour
to chat with his patient. He invariably found him sitting in bed
reading, surrounded by papers, his brief-case beside him, and
one evening he asked Ruhiyyih Khanum, privately, what was
the Guardian's work? She replied that he was a religious leader
and had many responsibilities. The doctor obviously liked his
patient, and after he had been coming for three or four days, he
told Ruhiyyih Khanum, after leaving the beloved Guardian's
room, that "he was smiling tonight"; that beautiful smile had
affected him too. The doctor told the Guardian that on Friday he
could get up and sit in his arm-chair as a change from bed, and in
order to get his strength back; but Shoghi Effendi did not want
to do this, and he continued his work sitting in bed and resting
every now and then. However, all during his illness, the Guardian
had gotten up to wash, to get papers from his desk and so on.
There was no time when he was too weak or ill to get out of bed,
not even the days when he had high fever.

On Saturday morning, the beloved Guardian told Ruhiyyih
Khanum that he wanted a large table placed in his room, big
enough so that he could lay on it the map of the world on which
he had been working. He had prepared one of those beautiful
maps he used to make showing the progress of the work, and
this one he called The Half-Way Point of the Ten-Year Crusade, in
other words, the progress made, and the victories won, during
five years. He had already worked a great deal on this map; indeed
it seems a strange coincidence that the first time and the last
time he worked on it should both have been occasions on which

[page 7]

he was ill, symbolic of the great sacrifice of his life and strength
that went into the conception and prosecution of the World
Crusade. About two months before he passed away, the beloved
Guardian had had a cold, with a temperature the first night; the
next day he had no fever, but it was understood he would remain
in bed and rest. It was that day that he worked on his map for the
first time, for about ten hours, and it was on Saturday, November
2nd, that he worked on it for the last time. He told Ruhiyyih
Khanum that he wanted her to check over carefully with him
the figures and said that except for adding a few extra details and
making sure that what was on the map agreed with his various
lists, the work was finished. She remonstrated with him and
begged him not to work, saying that in a few days he would be
stronger and could then complete it, but he said: "No, I must
finish it; it is worrying me. There is nothing left to do but check
it. I have one or two names to add that I have found in this mail,
and I will finish it to-day. "In the early afternoon he stood in front
of the table and worked for about three hours. The table was
strewn with pencils and files of papers which constituted the
Guardian's lists of languages, tribes, countries, Temples,
Hazíratu'l-Quds, work completed, work being carried out, and
a tremendous amount of data. At one time, while Ruhiyyih
Khanum was checking over with him the various lists and totals,
he said to her, as he had said many, many times during the last
year: "This work is killing me! How can I go on with this? I shall
have to stop it. It is too much. Look at the number of places I
have to write down. Look how exact I have to be!"

The beloved Guardian looked tired after working on his map
that day. He went back to bed and continued reading the many
reports he had received. He had only had a mouthful to eat at
lunch-time, and he refused to eat any dinner at all. That evening
he spoke with great depression. He had made many plans for his
winter's work in Haifa, and many times he discussed these with

[page 8]

Ruhiyyih Khanum, outlining to her some of the work he was
going to do on Mount Carmel in the Gardens above the Archives,
how he was going to furnish the International Archives Building
itself with the things that had been ordered, and that upon
his arrival his first act would be to go over to Bahjí and himself
give instructions for the demolition of the buildings inhabited
for so many years by the Arch-breakers of Bahá'u'lláh's Covenant
who had caused the beloved Master so much sorrow. He
talked about the disposition he intended to make of the stones
and rubble of these houses and of his ideas for extending the
Garden at Bahjí. Many times during the past months he had
spoken with enthusiasm of these plans he was going to carry out,
but this evening he said to her: "Who is going to go back and do
all these things? I have no strength left. I am like a broken reed.
I can't do anything more. I have no spirit left to do anything
more. Now we will be going back—who is going to go up that
mountain and make all those plans and stand for hours and supervise
the work? I can't do it. And I am not going to do anything
about the houses in Bahjí. Let them stay like that until I see how
I feel. And I am not going to furnish the inside of the Archives
this winter. It can wait another year, until everything that is
needed to furnish it is collected. I shall just see the pilgrims and
stay in my room and rest and do the few things that I have to do.
I am not even going to take the telegrams back from Jessie and
make copies of them and keep all the receipts the way I have done
all these years. She did this in the summer, she can go on doing it
in the winter. I am too tired." He was very, very sad and depressed,
and spoke words such as these for a long time. It was not
the first time that Ruhiyyih Khanum had heard him speak in
this vein, but it was with far greater intensity and in more specific
detail than she had ever heard before, and it distressed her very
deeply.

That evening when the doctor came he was satisfied with the

[page 9]

Guardian's condition and said he could certainly leave on Tuesday
morning. He told him he could go out if he wanted to and
get some fresh air. He also told the Guardian that he had heard
over the radio that well over two hundred people had died of
influenza during the week, and they discussed this a little together.
When the doctor left that night, after staying quite a
while, the Guardian said: "I like him very much. He is a fine
man, and a good doctor."

The next day the Guardian appended a few lines to all the
English letters that had been written for him, and went over
other matters regarding his work, dictating to Ruhiyyih
Khanum some instructions to be mailed, and telling her to write
two other letters herself that afternoon. He did not wish to get
up, preferring to remain in his room, mostly reading his papers
in bed, or attending to things on his desk. He later read over the
letters that she had written and appended something to one of
them. In one of the reports, he read something that caused him
intense indignation, and he spoke to her about it. He had also
been upset during these past few days by some news given him
concerning the activities of some of the Covenant-breakers, and
referred to it more than once. Such things always distressed him.

As Sunday was the doctor's day of rest, the Guardian had said
the day before that he did not think it was necessary for him to
come; however, the doctor telephoned that evening to inquire
how Shoghi Effendi was and expressed his willingness to come
if he was needed. Ruhiyyih Khanum, who was speaking on the
telephone beside the Guardian's bed, conveyed this message to
him, but he said he felt better, and that there was no need for the
doctor to come. It was then agreed that he would make his last
call the following afternoon. Ruhiyyih Khanum sat in the room
with the Guardian and they talked for a while about everyday
things. At half-past nine she asked him if he would not like to go
to sleep, as she was sure he was tired. He asked her: "What time is

[page 10]

it?" and she said, "Nine-thirty". He said: "It is too early to go to
sleep now; if I go to sleep now I shall wake up early and then I
won't be able to go to sleep again. Stay a little while longer and
talk." About ten o'clock she again asked him if he did not wish to
go to sleep, and he said yes. She did the last few things to make
him comfortable before retiring, and after saying goodnight,
left the room, asking him before she went to be sure and call her
in the night if he needed anything.

Both Saturday and Sunday nights Ruhiyyih Khanum did not
sleep well, lying awake in the middle of the night for long hours.
It would not be correct to say that she had the slightest premonition
of what was to come, but she did not sleep well, and her
heart was heavy and sad.

On the morning of Monday, November 4th, she went to the
door of the Guardian's room, knocked gently, and, when she received
no answer, entered the room. The curtains were drawn
over the windows and the room was in twilight. She saw the
beloved Guardian lying on his left side facing her, with his left
hand folded over towards his right shoulder and his right arm
over his left one, in a most relaxed and comfortable position. His
eyes were three-quarters open and she thought he was drowsy—in
that state when people wake up and lie comfortably beginning
to think of their day's work. She asked him how he had slept,
and if he felt better. When he neither moved nor replied, and he
seemed unnaturally still, a wave of agonizing terror swept over
her; she leaned over him and seized his hand. He was ice-cold
and absolutely rigid; as the window was not open and the room
was very warm, he must have ascended several hours earlier. In
spite of her own condition, within two minutes she had reached
his doctor by phone at the hospital, and had told him that she
was afraid that his patient had passed away, and begged him to
come instantly, in case there was something that could still be
done. The doctor arrived shortly. In order to calm Ruhiyyih

[page 11]

Khanum he gave heart injections to the beloved Guardian and
massaged his heart, but of course it was absolutely useless. A few
minutes later a second physician arrived and confirmed that
there was nothing to be done. The diagnosis was "Death caused
by coronary thrombosis". Nothing in the world could have
saved the beloved Guardian's life. If the best physicians had been
standing beside him, they could not have prevented his passing
away from the clot of blood that suddenly entered into one of
the heart-vessels.

The beloved friends, heart-broken, desolate and orphaned as
they are, must be grateful that this Shoghi Effendi of ours, this
sacred and so-dearly-loved Trust left us by 'Abdu'l-Bahá, passed
away with no illness or pain; indeed it was clear from his position
and the expression in his eyes that he had not even had a spasm.
His eyes bore no look of surprise, although they were open. They
say such deaths are reserved for the just.

It devolved upon Ruhiyyih Khanum, half-mad herself with
grief, to think of a way of conveying this terrible and agonizing
news to the Bahá'ís. She thought of the two British Hands of the
Cause, so recently elevated to this high rank in the last Message
from the beloved Guardian. She first turned to Hasan Balyuzi,
an Afnán cousin of his. Within about an hour he was able to join
her, and he telephoned John Ferraby, enjoining him to silence
and telling him to come quickly. A telephone call was then put
through to the Hand of the Cause Ugo Giachery in Rome, and
he said he would take the next plane for London. He arrived that
same night about eight o'clock. Another call was put in for the
Hand of the Cause Leroy loas in Haifa, and he was reached late
in the afternoon. Already, earlier in the afternoon Ruhiyyih
Khanum had cabled the following message to Haifa, "Beloved
Guardian desperately ill Asiatic flu tell Leroy inform all National
Assemblies inform believers supplicate prayers divine protection
Faith." She could not bear to deal the naked blow to the

[page 12]

hearts of other Bahá'ís which she herself had received and had
been forced to inflict on three of the Hands, so she sent the above
message, in the hope of preparing the Guardian's lovers, the ill,
the old, and the feeble, to receive the full news. In spite of this
effort to protect the friends from the full shock of this cataclysm
that had overtaken them, her first cable did not reach Haifa before
her telephone message, and the news reached many Bahá'ís
in different parts of the world over the radio. A second cable was
sent later in the day to Haifa with the request that it be cabled to
all National Assemblies, as she felt that the announcement of his
passing should go out officially from the World Centre of the
Faith. The text was as follows:

SHOGHI EFFENDI BELOVED OF ALL HEARTS SACRED TRUST GIVEN
BELIEVERS BY MASTER PASSED AWAY SUDDEN HEART ATTACK IN
SLEEP FOLLOWING ASIATIC FLU STOP URGE BELIEVERS REMAIN
STEADFAST CLING INSTITUTION HANDS LOVINGLY REARED RECENTLY
REINFORCED EMPHASIZED BY BELOVED GUARDIAN STOP
ONLY ONENESS HEART ONENESS PURPOSE CAN BEFITTINGLY TESTIFY
LOYALTY ALL NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES BELIEVERS DEPARTED GUARDIAN
WHO SACRIFICED SELF UTTERLY FOR SERVICE FAITH.
RUHIYYIH

The customs in the West are different from the customs in the
East, and the ascension of the blessed Guardian in such a vast city
as London posed many problems. Very careful instructions were
given to the undertaker by Ruhiyyih Khanum, explaining that
in our religion we have no embalmment, that no injections of
any kind to preserve the body must be given, and that nobody
must be allowed to wash it, as provision would be made for this
by us according to our Faith. He fully understood this, as London
is a great world metropolis, where people of many religious
customs live and die. The friends must bear in mind that in all the
arrangements made after the passing of the beloved Guardian, the

[page 13]

Laws of the Aqdas, which he himself had so repeatedly stressed
and constantly upheld, had to be obeyed. The size of London,
and the fact that the only suitable burial grounds lie in its outskirts,
had to be constantly remembered, so that no mistake
would be made in transporting his precious remains more than
an hour's journey. It was the longing of the four Hands, who
from the very day of his ascension became responsible for all
the pressing matters that had to be attended to in such a short
space of time, to have him transported to the National
Hazíratu'l-Quds where the friends could gather and pray, until
the funeral took place. Investigation, however, showed that the
journey from the part of London where the beloved Guardian
had passed away to the National Hazíratu'l-Quds, and from
there back again in the same general direction to the burial place,
would take more than an hour, and the plan had to be abandoned.

On Tuesday morning a telephone call was put through to the
Hand of the Cause Adelbert Muhlschlegel, as Ruhiyyih Khanum
had decided that he, a physician, one of the Guardian's own
appointed Hands, and a man known for his spirituality, would
not only be able to endure the sorrow of performing the last
service for the beloved Guardian of washing his blessed body,
but would do it in the spirit of consecration and prayer called for
on such a sacred occasion. He accepted immediately, with deepest
gratitude for this inestimable privilege, and arrived, accompanied
by the other German Hand of the Cause Hermann
Grossmann, on Tuesday night at the Hazíratu'l-Quds in London.
It was decided that because of the Laws of our Faith which
are against embalming, the funeral should be held as soon as possible,
preferably on Friday. Investigation and consultation, however,
showed that this would not allow enough time to settle the
formalities involved in purchasing a site for the grave and constructing
a suitable vault. The time was therefore set for noon on

[page 14]

Saturday, 9 November, and the following cable was sent from
London to all National Assemblies:

BELOVED ALL HEARTS PRECIOUS GUARDIAN CAUSE GOD PASSED
PEACEFULLY AWAY YESTERDAY AFTER ASIATIC TLU STOP APPEAL
HANDS NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES AUXILIARY BOARDS SHELTER BELIEVERS
ASSIST MEET HEARTRENDING SUPREME TEST STOP FUNERAL
OUR BELOVED GUARDIAN SATURDAY LONDON HANDS ASSEMBLY
BOARD MEMBERS INVITED ATTEND ANY PRESS RELEASE SHOULD
STATE MEETING HANDS SHORTLY HAIFA WILL MAKE ARRANGEMENT
TO BAHAI WORLD REGARDING FUTURE PLANS STOP URGE HOLD MEMORIAL
MEETINGS SATURDAY.
RUHIYYIH

The first thought of those concerned with making arrangements
for a befitting burial of the beloved Guardian's remains
had been to secure a piece of land especially for this purpose;
however, this proved an impossibility. An appointment with the
Home Office had been fixed to discuss this with John Ferraby,
but it was soon found to be impracticable because of laws restricting
the use of land near London for burials. On Tuesday
afternoon, Ruhiyyih Khanum, Hasan Balyuzi, and Ugo
Giachery were taken out to inspect possible sites for the grave in
cemeteries within an hour's journey from London. It was raining,
and the first cemetery visited had only one plot remotely
suitable for the purpose available, which was opposite the massive,
depressing vault of a family of the British nobility, and
prohibitively expensive, in addition to being very near the
entrance gate. Although in the eyes of the world this cemetery
must have importance, to the Hands present it was unbefitting
and out of the question in every way, and their hearts sank with
fear lest they should not find a proper place for their so-dearly-loved
Guardian. God had other plans however, for on motoring
in the twilight to inspect the second cemetery, they entered a
beautiful, peaceful spot on a hill, surrounded by rolling country,

[page 15]

where birds sang in the trees and which had an entirely different
atmosphere from the pomp and worldliness of the first. The
Superintendent escorted them to the best piece of land he had,
on the highest part, and in the centre of the cemetery. It adjoined
one of the roads and was bounded by three great trees which
cast their shade over it. The peaceful woods of the countryside,
where birds will make their nests in spring, lay close to it on one
side. It was over thirty metres square, and Ruhiyyih Khanum
made arrangements to purchase it immediately, instructions
being given to build a strong, deep vault. The Hands then
proceeded to the undertaker's, to choose a suitable casket for the
precious remains of the beloved Guardian. After much deliberation
it was decided that for the present, as well as the future, the
wisest course would be to have a lead coffin which could be
hermetically sealed, and that this should be placed in a beautiful
bronze casket, the most dignified, costly and enduring that
could be found. By doing this the Hands were assured that in the
future, when the means of transport become so rapid that the
journey from London to Haifa can be accomplished in an hour,
it would be possible to convey the sacred remains of the Guardian
to the Holy Land.

On Tuesday night the Hand of the Cause Amelia Collins,
who had only arrived in Haifa on Sunday, having made a special
effort to get home in time to greet the Guardian when he returned,
joined Ruhiyyih Khanum in London and was able to
give her at this grievous time her much-needed, warm, motherly
love and support. Already all European Hands of the Cause
were in London. On Wednesday the National Spiritual Assembly
of the Bahá'ís of the British Isles communicated to all the
believers the heart-breaking news, and invited them, as members
of the community in which this great calamity had occurred,
to be present at the funeral of the beloved Guardian, which was
to take place on their soil. That afternoon, Ruhiyyih Khanum,

[page 16]

accompanied by Amelia Collins, drove out to the cemetery and
made arrangements with a florist in the neighbourhood for the
decoration of the Chapel, and for the sheath of flowers which
was to cover the coffin. On Thursday at two o'clock Ruhiyyih
Khanum and Adelbert Muhlschlegel drove to the place where
the body of the blessed Guardian was to be washed. She had
already purchased nine yards of the heaviest and finest white
silk available and nine yards of a slightly lighter weight for the
first shroud, as well as towels and cloths and soap to wash the
body. These she delivered to Dr. Muhlschlegel, keeping the
second shroud with her. She waited in an ante-room while he
washed the precious remains and wrapped them in the first
shroud, anointing the body with attar-of-rose which the
Guardian himself had given to Ugo Giachery, who had brought
it from Italy with him. It was over an hour-and-a-half before
Adelbert Muhlschlegel came to call Ruhiyyih Khanum, and to
inform her that he had completed his sacred task. Let him say
in his own words—as he afterwards wrote them to her—what
he felt during that time:

"Something new happened to me in that hour that I cannot,
even after a few days, speak of, but I can mention the wisdom
and love that I felt pour over me. In that room—which to
worldly eyes would have appeared so different—there was a
tremendous spiritual force such as I have only felt in my life
in the holy Shrines. My first impression was the contrast
between the body left behind and the majestic, transfigured
face, a soul-stirring picture of the joyous victory of the eternal
over the transient. My second impression, as I prayed and
thought and carefully did what I had to do, was that in this
degree of consecration to the work of God I should work all
my life, and mankind should work a thousand years, in order
to construct "the Kingdom" on earth; and my third thought
was, as I washed each member of his body and anointed it,

[page 17]

that I thanked those beloved hands which had worked and
written to establish the Covenant, those feet that had walked
for us, that mouth that had spoken to us, that head that had
thought for us, and I prayed and meditated and supplicated
that in the short time left to me, the members of my body
might hasten to follow in his path of service; and my last
thought was of my own distress because I felt how unworthy
my hands were to anoint that blessed brow with attar-of-rose
as the Masters of old were wont to do to their pupils; and yet
what privileges, what duties fall to us, the living, to watch
over what is past and mortal, be it ever so exalted. A great
deal of mercy, love, and wisdom were hidden in this hour."

Ruhiyyih Khanum asked to be alone with the beloved
Guardian to say her own last farewell. Bahá'u'lláh says: "At this
point the pen broke and the ink gave forth nothing but blackness." So
a veil must be drawn over her feelings alone with her Lord for
the last time. But she did tell the friends afterwards:

"He was our Guardian, King of the world. We know he was
noble because he was our Guardian. We know that God gave
him peace in the end. But as I looked at him all I could think
of was—how beautiful he is, how beautiful! A celestial
beauty seemed to be poured over him and to rest on him and
stream from him like a mighty benediction from on high.
And the wonderful hands, so like the hands of Bahá'u'lláh,
lay softly by his side; it seemed impossible the life had gone
from them—or from that radiant face."

After a little while she called Adelbert Muhlschlegel back into
the room; the coffin, padded with soft white silk, was brought;
she arranged the second shroud in it and the beloved Guardian
was laid inside. The flowers from the threshold of the Báb's
Shrine, which Amelia Collins had brought from Haifa, she
spread over that treasured form, covering it from feet to chin,

[page 18]

a sacred carpet of love, and the last shroud she folded gently
about him, closing away for all time from men's eyes the face
on which the Bahá'ís had gazed with so much love.

The coffin was then closed, a pall of purple and gold was spread
over it, and a bouquet of flowers Ruhiyyih Khanum had
brought with her was placed on the top.

All the next day, in a room full of flowers, the various Hands
of the Cause from Persia, Europe, Africa, and America kept
vigil and prayed near the mortal remains of their Beloved.

On Friday evening, Ruhiyyih Khanum and Amelia Collins
drove out to the cemetery to inspect the Chapel and the grave.
The florist was following his instructions very carefully and
making every effort to create an atmosphere of beauty worthy of
this sacred occasion. Indeed, all the non-Bahá'ís concerned with
the death of and the funeral arrangements made for this stranger
who had passed away in their country so suddenly, seemed
deeply touched and stirred by the great reverence and love that
accompanied the still form of God's Great Guardian as he passed
from life to the grave. They outdid themselves in showing
sympathy and co-operation. At the four corners of the grave the
florist had already planted four beautiful small cypress trees
which Ruhiyyih Khanum had ordered in memory of the
hundreds of cypress trees that the beloved Guardian had planted,
during his lifetime, around the Holy Places in Bahjí and Haifa.
At the top of the Chapel, which was entirely non-denominational
and used for services of all religions, was an arched alcove
filled with a bank of chrysanthemums and asters, beginning
with deep shades of purple and running up through violet,
lavender and orchid tones to white at the top. Like two arms
reaching out, garlands of lavender chrysanthemums ran along
a cornice which framed the raised upper part of the Chapel.
Above this, from wall to wall, was a beam of wood, in the
centre of which a framed Greatest Name was hung. Beneath

[page 19]

this, in front of the alcove of flowers, the coffin was to rest on a
low catafalque covered by a rich green velvet pall, the colour to
which the descendants of Muhammad are entitled by their
illustrious lineage, and which the Guardian, as a Siyyid himself,
through his kinship to the Báb, had every right to bear with
him to the grave. Seating arrangements were made for the
following day, placing the Hands of the Cause on the right and
on the left side of the coffin, facing it. A hundred more chairs
had to be ordered as the Chapel normally could only seat about
eighty people.

That evening all the Hands of the Cause who were in London,
now numbering thirteen, met to discuss appropriate readings
for the funeral the next day. The Israeli authorities had instructed
the Chargé d'Affaires at the Israeli Embassy in London, Mr
Gershon Avner, to attend the funeral on behalf of the Government
(the Ambassador being absent from his post). It had been
decided that, owing to the great mourning of the Bahá'í world,
the short time available, and the restricted space at the cemetery
Chapel, the funeral should be entirely private. The spontaneous
gesture of esteem, however, which the Israeli Government had
made, by requesting its representative to attend the funeral
officially, could not be turned aside. The presence of this non-Bahá'í
had therefore to be taken into consideration in connection
with suitable readings, and the moving of the beloved
Guardian's coffin. As this weighed almost half-a-ton it was
considered that, in permitting the Bahá'ís to have the honour of
taking turns in carrying it, a very grave risk would be run of its
being jostled, tipped, or even slipping from their hands. Special
bearers were therefore chosen who carried out their task with
the utmost dignity.

While these events were taking place, the National Headquarters
of the Bahá'ís in London was becoming the focal centre
of many agonized hearts, seeking information, asking details,

[page 20]

receiving what comfort other broken hearts could give and
being directed as to how they could reach the cemetery upon
their arrival in London. The telephone at the Hazíratu'l-Quds
rang almost all day without stopping, and John Ferraby, Secretary
of the British National Spiritual Assembly, with the constant
help of his wife, also a member of that body, attended to
telephone calls from such distant spots as Djakarta, Bombay,
Kuwait, Israel, the United States and several European countries,
to the ceaseless flow of cables and letters that poured in and out,
as well as to Press releases and interviews. It began to be clear
that the funeral would be attended by many more of the friends
than it had been thought could possibly get to London in time.
Not only were the British Bahá'ís attending practically en masse,
but Hands of the Cause, various National Spiritual Assembly
members and Auxiliary Board members, as well as individuals,
were pouring in from overseas. As the Bahá'ís arrived in ever-increasing
numbers, a great flood-tide of love and sorrow was
rising about the silent figure of the Sign of God on earth, preparing
to bear his sacred remains befittingly to the grave.

Arrangements had been made to have the funeral cortège
assemble about ten o'clock before the Hazíratu'l-Quds, at 27
Rutland Gate, opposite Hyde Park; from here, those believers
who were not going direct to the cemetery would be driven
by special cars which would follow the hearse. More than sixty
automobiles, accommodating over three hundred and sixty
people, moved off in solemn file at 10.40 and journeyed to the
place where they were joined by the hearse bearing the coffin
of the revered Guardian. This was preceded by a floral hearse
and followed by the car in which rode Ruhiyyih Khanum
accompanied by Amelia Collins; cars bearing the other Hands,
National Spiritual Assembly members, Auxiliary Board members
and believers followed behind. It was probably the largest
column of vehicles seen in London for many years in attendance

[page 21]

on a funeral of any denomination. The journey to the Great
Northern Cemetery at New Southgate, where the sacred remains
of Shoghi Effendi are now interred, was accomplished in
under one hour's time, the laws of the Aqdas being thus fulfilled.

Through Leroy Ioas having promptly informed the Israeli
authorities in a befitting manner of the sudden passing of the
Head of the Faith, conditions at its World Centre were calm,
and he decided it would be safe for him to leave the Holy Land
over the weekend, and attend the funeral of the beloved
Guardian. This was very fortunate, because it made it possible
for him to bring with him, at the request of Ruhiyyih Khanum,
a small rug from the innermost Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh at Bahjí,
with which to carpet the floor of the vault, and a covering, which
had rested likewise in that inner Shrine, for the coffin itself. He
also brought a bouquet of white jasmine and a box of flowers
gathered from the Gardens at Bahjí, the Ridván, Mazra'ih and
Haifa.

Already a great crowd of believers was waiting at the door of
the Chapel when the funeral cortège drove up; on every face was
written its own measure of heart-break and many sobs were
heard. The casket was gently handed down, on it a beautiful
sheath of deep-red roses with fragrant white gardenias, lily of
the valley and fuchsias, in the centre, and a simple card with the
inscription "From Ruhiyyih and all your loved ones and lovers
all over the world whose hearts are broken".

The Great Guardian was carried in and laid on the soft green
covering of the catafalque. The Chapel was crowded to the
doors, and many had to remain outside. All stood while the
wonderful prayer, ordained by Bahá'u'lláh for the dead, was
chanted in Arabic. Six other prayers and excerpts from the
Teachings were then read by friends with beautiful voices, some
in English, some in Persian, and representative of Bahá'ís from
Europe, Africa, America, Asia—Negro, Jew, and Aryan.

[page 22]

In solemn file the friends followed the casket as it was borne
out, placed in the hearse again, and slowly driven the few hundred
yards to the graveside. There it was gently deposited at
the head of the grave, so that when the beloved Guardian's
remains were lowered into it, he would face east to the Qiblih
of the Faith. The flowers were removed from the casket, revealing
an engraved tablet on which was written:

Shoghi Effendi Rabbani

First Guardian

of the Bahá'í Faith

March 3rd, 1896–November 4th, 1957

As all stood, silently waiting for the coffin to be lowered into
the grave, Ruhiyyih Khanum felt the agony of the hearts
around her penetrate into her own great grief. He was their
Guardian. He was going forever from their eyes, suddenly
snatched from them by the immutable decree of God, Whose
Will no man dare question. They had not seen him, had not been
able to draw near him. She decided to ask for it to be announced
that before the coffin was placed in the grave, the friends who
wished might pass by it and pay their respects. For over two
hours the believers, eastern and western, filed by. For the most
part they knelt and kissed the edge or the handle of the casket.
Rarely indeed in history can such a demonstration of love and
grief have been seen. Children bowed their little heads beside
their mothers, old men wept, the iron reserve of the Anglo-Saxon—the
tradition never to show feeling in public—melted
before the white-hot sorrow in the heart. The morning had
been sunny and fair; now a gentle shower started and sprinkled
a few drops on the coffin, as if nature herself were suddenly
moved to tears. Some placed little flasks of Persian attar-of-rose
at the head; one hesitatingly laid a red rose on the casket, symbol
no doubt of the owner's heart; one could not bear the few drops

[page 23]

of rain above that blessed, hidden face, and timidly wiped them
off as he knelt; others with convulsed fingers carried away a
little of the earth near the casket. Tears, tears and kisses, and
solemn inner vows were poured out at the head of the one who
had always called himself their "true brother". When the last
believers in this grief-stricken procession had filed by, Ruhiyyih
Khanum approached the casket, kissed it and knelt in prayer
for a moment. She then had the green pall spread over it, laid
the blue-and-gold brocade from the innermost Shrine of
Bahá'u'lláh on top of it and arranged the still-fragrant jasmine
flowers over all its length. Then the mortal remains of him whom
'Abdu'l-Bahá designated "the most wondrous, unique and priceless
pearl that doth gleam from out the Twin Surging Seas" were slowly
lowered into the vault, amid walls covered with evergreen
boughs and studded with flowers, to rest upon the rug from the
Holy Tomb at Bahjí. A prayer was then chanted in Persian,
and the Afnán Hand of the Cause, Hasan Balyuzi, read the
closing prayer in English.

All this time—a service that had lasted almost four hours—the
representative of the Israeli Government, obviously deeply
moved, had been in attendance, himself stepping beside the
coffin and, with bowed head, paying his solemn respects. He and
the majority of the mourners now left, the Hands of the Cause,
the National Spiritual Assemblies and Auxiliary Board members
remaining behind by previous arrangement to see the vault
sealed.

Prayers were then said in many foreign languages and by
friends from distant countries, and the orange and olive leaves
brought from the Garden of the Ridván in Baghdád by
Tarázulláh Samandarí—the only living Hand of the Cause who
was privileged to enter the presence of Bahá'u'lláh—were placed
on the grave, as well as the flowers brought by Leroy loas from
the Bahá'í Gardens in the Holy Land; these were sufficient for

[page 24]

each person present himself to put some on the Guardian's resting-place.
Over the tomb, at his feet, like a shield of crimson and
white, lay the fragrant sheath of blooms which had covered his
casket, and heaped about was a rich carpet of exquisite flowers,
symbols of the love, the suffering, of so many hearts, and no
doubt the silent bearers of vows to make the Spirit of the
Guardian happy now, to fulfil his plans, carry on his work, be
worthy at last of the love and inspired self-sacrificing leadership
he gave them for thirty-six years of his life.

RUHIYYIH

in collaboration with John Ferraby

Haifa.

December 9th, 1957

[page 25]

PROGRAMME OF PRAYERS AND READINGS

1. Prayer for the departed (chanted in Arabic).Bahá'u'lláh

2. The Hidden Words, Nos. 32 and 11 (read in
English). Gleanings from the Writings of
Bahá'u'lláh, page 345, beginning Death
proffereth unto every confident believer...
to ... of all worlds (read in English).Bahá'u'lláh

3. Gleanings from the Writings of Bahá'u'lláh,
page 341, beginning All praise be to
God...to ... the All-Compelling, the Almighty.
And beginning The fierce gales ... to ...
is based (read in English).Bahá'u'lláh

4. The Hidden Words, Nos. 12, 14, 32
(chanted in Arabic).Bahá'u'lláh

5. Prayers and Meditations, CXLV, page 234
(read in English)Bahá'u'lláh

6. Prayers and Meditations, XCII, page 155
(read in English).Bahá'u'lláh

7. The Will and Testament of 'Abdu'l-Bahá,
first two paragraphs (read in English).'Abdu'l-Bahá

AT THE GRAVESIDE

8. Prayer of Shoghi Effendi; Dar in Layliyi
Layla (chanted in Persian).Shoghi Effendi

9. Prayer Glory be to Thee, O God, for Thy
manifestation of love to mankind (read in
English).Bahá'u'lláh

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-- The Passing of Shoghi Effendi: 1896-1957 (Used by permission of the curator)