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Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: E. G. Browne, Babism, bahai-library.com.
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Babism
E. G. Browne
published in Religious Systems of the World: A Contribution to the Study of Comparative Religion pp. 333-353
London: Swann Sonnenschein, 1890/1901
1. Text (see PDF below)
p. 333
The religious system which we are about to consider is
deserving of an attentive examination for several reasons. It is no mere
local superstition confined to a few families or tribes; neither is it a
national religion, whereof the origin is lost in the mists of antiquity; nor yet
is it a scheme of philosophy born in the sanctum of the student, and
moving in a sphere of abstract thought far remote from the active world.
Seventy years ago [1820] its founder
was an infant only a few months old; fifty years ago [1840] his summons was yet unspoken and his doctrine yet
unformed; forty years ago [1850] he
terminated a prophet's life with a martyrs death, leaving behind him as his
legacy to mankind a faith which now numbers its adherents not by
hundreds but by thousands, which reckons its martyrs not by scores but
by hundreds, and which, whatever its actual destiny may be, is of that
stuff whereof world-religions are made. And to this rank does it lay claim,
demanding nothing less than universal acceptance and undisputed sway,
not only in Persia, where it was first preached and where it underwent
that baptism of blood which was the terror and wonder even of those
who proscribed and persecuted it, but throughout the whole world. A
mighty claim indeed, but a claim which, if devotion even unto death and
fervour which neither fire nor sword can quell go for aught, has at least
established its right to be heard.
Before proceeding further in the examination of the history and
doctrine of this new world-religion, it is necessary to glance briefly at the
spiritual condition of the country which gave it birth. Persia, it is almost
needless to state is a Muhammadan country. Other religions are, indeed,
represented: there are a good many native Christians, either Armenians
or Syrians; there are a considerable number of Jews; and there are a
remnant who still, after the lapse of twelve centuries, hold firm to the
fallen faith of Zoroaster. Relatively to the sum-total of the population,
however, these are a mere handful, and the nation as such is a
Muhammadan nation. But the Muhammadanism of Persia is a very
different thing from that which prevails elsewhere. The Roman Catholic
differs less from the Protestant than does the Persian Shí'ite
from the Turkish or Egyptian Sunní. It is neither necessary nor
possible to consider here in detail all these differences; one feature only
of Shí'ite belief - the doctrine of the Imámate - demands
notice. To the Sunní, the caliph, or visible head of the
Muhammadan Church, is nothing more than a defender of the faith,
elected by the suffrage of the majority for the safe-guarding of the
temporal and spiritual interests of
p. 334
Islám. His appointment is human rather than divine, and his
function is that of an administrator of the laws rather than that of a
prophet or inspired teacher. Not so does the Shi'ite regard the
Imáms, whom he recognises as the sole successors of the
prophet. The Imám is divinely called to his lofty office; with his
selection and appointment the choice of men has nothing to do; he is
endowed with supernatural powers and virtues; his decision is in all things
absolutely authoritative; and, in a word, he is an open channel of grace
between God and mankind. Abú Bekr, 'Umar and
'Othmán, the first three caliphs of the Sunnís, are in the
eyes of the Shi'ites detestable usurpers, who snatched from 'Ali, the
lawful Imám, a power to which they had no right and a position
which they were not qualified to hold. They, and the Ommayad and
'Abbásid caliphs, who persecuted and slew the lawful
Imáms of the family of 'Ali whom they had first despoiled and
disputed, are solemnly cursed bye every true Shi'ite. The Imáms
of the race of 'Ali are, on the other hand, loved, revered, almost adored;
they are given a rank hardly inferior to that of the prophet himself, nay,
hardly short of divinity; and the well-being of mankind is made dependent
on their existence.
These Imáms were twelve in number. The eleventh,
Hasan 'Askarí, died in the year A.D. 874, and was succeeded by
his son, who is generally known as the "Imám Mahdí,"
"the Proof," or "the Absent Imám." This Imám
Mahdí was from the first involved in mystery, and communicated
with his followers only indirectly through certain chosen and trusty
representatives, who were called "Gates" or "Doors" (Abwáb,
pl. of Báb). Of these "Gates" or
"Bábs" there were four successively. When the last of
them died, no one was appointed to succeed him, and then began that
period of the "Greater Occultation," in which, as the Shi'ites believe, we
now are. But the Imám Mahdí though no longer
accessible to his Church did not die. He disappeared from the eyes of
men in the year A.H. 329 (A.D. 940-941), but he still lives, hidden in the
mysterious city of Jábulká, whence, in the fullness of
time, when faith waxes weakest and the world is full of woe and
oppression, he will issue forth to restore the true religion, fill the earth
with justice, and inaugurate the millennium. For this long-expected day do
all Shi'ites wait and watch eagerly and anxiously, and ever when they
mention the sacred name of the Imám they add thereto the
prayer, "May God hasten his glad advent!"
It is in the year A.H. 1260 (A.D. 1844), exactly one thousand
years after the Imám Mahdí's first retirement into
seclusion, or "Lesser Occultation," that the history of the religion which
we are about to consider properly begins. Before we proceed to speak of
this, however, let us glance briefly at the meagre details which have
reached us of the early life of its founder. Mirzá 'Alí
Muhammad, afterwards known as the Báb or "Gate"
(from which title his followers derive the name of
Bábí which they bear), was born at
Shíraz in southern Persia on October 9th, A.D. 1820. His father,
Mírzá Rizá, was by trade a cloth seller; but,
though in comparatively humble
p. 335
circumstances, he enjoyed that respect which is almost invariably
accorded in Persia to a seyyid, or reputed descendent of the
prophet. Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad was in the
ordinary course of things sent to school, but he seems not to have
remained there long. His removal thence may have been occasioned by
the cruelty of his teacher, at whose hands he seems to have suffered
much. He never forgot the unhappiness of his childhood, and when in
later days he was framing the ordinances of his religion, he insisted most
strenuously on the duty of treating children with the utmost tenderness
and consideration, enacting heavy fines against such as should cruelly
beat or ill-use them. "The object of these commands," he says, "is that
men may not bring sorrow on that Spirit from the ocean of whose bounty
they enjoy existence; for the teacher knoweth not Him who is his own
and all men's teacher."
On his removal from school Mírzá 'Alí
Muhammad was for a while engaged in helping his father
Mírzá Rizá in his business. He was still but a
boy, however, when his father died. and thenceforth he was taken under
the care of his maternal uncle, Háji Seyyid 'Alí. After a
while, but at what precise date we cannot say, he left
Shíráz and took up abode at Bushire on the Persian Gulf,
where he still carried on the trade for which he was destined. So far
there was nothing specially noticeable in him save a gravity unusual at his
years, a remarkable purity of life, a somewhat dreamy temperament, an a
sweetness of manner which attracted all with whom he came in contact.
At the age of twenty-two he married, and by this marriage he had one
son named Ahmad, who died in infancy.
About this time, there dwelt and taught at Kerbelá, a spot
most hallowed in the eyes of every Persian Shi'ite by reason of the
martyrdom of Huseyn, the third Imám, which there took place, a
certain Hájí Seyyid Kázim of Resht, the disciple
and successor of Sheykh Ahmad of Ahsá, who had founded a
new school or sect called after him Sheykhís. Of the
Sheykhís' doctrine the most notable feature was the extreme
veneration - remarkable even amongst the Shi'ites - in which they held
the Imáms, and the eagerness wherewith they awaited the
advent of the Twelfth Imám or Imám Mahdí.
One day the circle of those who sat at the feet of Seyyid Kázim
was augmented by a fresh arrival. The new comer, who took his seat
modestly by the door in the lowest place, was none other than
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad, who, impelled by a pious
desire to visit the Holy Shrines, had left his business at Bushire to come to
Kerbelá. During the next few months the face of the young
Shírází became familiar to all the disciples of
Seyyid Kázim, and the teacher himself did not fail to notice and
appreciate the earnest but modest demeanour of the youthful stranger.
Then all of a sudden Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad
departed as unexpectedly as he had come, and once more returned to
Shíráz, his native city. Not long after this Seyyid
Kázim died without nominating any successor. To some of his
disciples whom he had seem weeping over his approaching death he had
said, "Do you not then desire that I should go, so that the
p. 336
Truth may become manifest?" How this Truth should be revealed
was a matter whereat he had but darkly hinted, and so it was that his
disciples, distressed and doubtful, met together after his death to fast and
pray. Then they dispersed, each in his own way, to seek what they
desired and await what they expected.
Amongst these disciples was one, Mullá Huseyn by name, of
Bushraweyh in Khurásán, who had enjoyed a special
intimacy with the departed teacher, and who had been regarded by many
as likely to succeed him. On the dispersal of the Sheykhís to
which I have just alluded, this Mullá Huseyn went to
Shíráz, and on his arrival there he remembered that
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad, his former fellow-
student, dwelt in this city. Anxious to renew his acquaintance with one
whose amiable disposition had exercised over him a singular charm, he
inquired after and soon discovered the man in person, and when the first
greetings were over the two fell to talking of Seyyid Kázim and
his recent death. At first it was Mullá Huseyn who spoke,
detailing the events of Seyyid Kázím's last days, and the
hopes and fears which occupied the minds of his followers. But soon it
was Mullá Huseyn's turn to listen in amazement to a declaration
which Mírzá' Alí Muhammad now for the first
time made, to wit, that he himself was the promised guide and teacher,
the "Truth" foretold by the departed Seyyid, the channel of a new
outpouring of Divine Grace; in a word, the Báb or Gate
whereby men might once again commune with the Imám from
whom for a thousand years they had been separated. The amazement
and incredulity which this declaration first evoked in Mullá
Huseyn's mind was soon changed by further conversation with
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad (or to give him the title to
which he had now laid claim, the Báb) into a belief whereof the
sincerity was attested by every subsequent action of this first convert to
the new faith.
In spite of the absence of many facilities of communication which we
enjoy in Europe, news travels fast in the East; and no great while had
elapsed since the "manifestation" (which took place on May 23rd, 1844)
ere the Báb was surrounded by a considerable number of eager
disciples. Amongst these were included many of the late Seyyid
Kázím's followers, who, apprised by Mullá
Husayn of what had taken place, hastened with all speed to
Shíráz. The zeal of the little band of believers was great.
In the circles of their own assemblies they read with eagerness and
rapture the Commentary on the Súra of Joseph, the
Ziyárat náma or "Book of Visitation," and the
few other works which the Báb had then composed; while from
time to time each one of them was privileged to listen to the words of the
Master himself as he depicted in vivid language the worldliness and
immorality of the mullás, or Muhammadan clergy, and the
injustice and rapacity of the civil authorities, or spoke with a conviction
which compelled belief of the era of justice and happiness now at hand
and the certain triumph of the new truth which he was commissioned to
p. 337
proclaim. Already the Báb's fame was in every one's mouth
and the Bábís were beginning to attract general attention
(an attention which, in the case of the government authorities and the
clergy, was largely mixed with suspicion and dislike), when the young
prophet once more left Shíráz secretly, accompanied only
by one intimate disciple, and set out to perform the pilgrimage to
Mecca.
When the Báb returned from Mecca and again landed at
Bushire, in August 1845, the complexion of affairs was considerably
altered. On the one hand, his ideas had doubtless become more clearly
defined; on the other hand, the government and the clergy had decided
that this new movement was altogether dangerous to them and must at
once be checked as sharply as possible. Accordingly, when some of the
Báb's disciples, who had preceded him to Shíráz,
entered the city, they were seized by the governor Husayn Khán,
bastinadoed, and forbidden to preach. to ensure the effectiveness of this
prohibition, one or two of them were hamstrung, so that they should be
unable to quit their houses. Horsemen were also despatched to Bushire to
arrest the Báb, who was brought in to Shíráz in
the latter part of September, 1845. He was examined before the governor
by some of the chief clergy, who declared him to be a heretic, and
ordered that he should be punished with the bastinado and then confined
in the house of 'Abdu'l-Hamíd Khán, the dár
úghá, or chief constable. In spite of these measures,
however, the new faith continued to spread rapidly, for many of the
Báb's disciples were scattered throughout all parts of Persia
engaged in teaching his doctrine, while those who remained in
Shíráz did not fail to find means of approaching him even
in his confinement. The chief constable, indeed, seems to have submitted
to the charm of his prisoner's gentle and amiable manner, and, according
to one of the Bábí historians, he was actually brought to
believe in the divine mission of the captive, to whose prayers he
considered himself indebted for the recovery of his son from a mortal
sickness. At all events, when, in the spring of 1846, Manúchihr
Khán, the governor of Isfahán, anxious to see one of
whom he had heard so much, sent messengers to Shíráz
to discover whether he could by any means deliver the Báb from
his captivity and bring him to Isfahán, the chief constable
connived at, if he did not actually assist, the escape of his prisoner, who at
once set out in company with two of his disciples for the latter city, where
he arrived about May, 1846.
For nearly a year the Báb remained at Isfahán, and
during this period he enjoyed the last days of comparative peace and
security allotted to him. He was under the protection of the most
powerful nobles of the time, who was both able and willing to protect him
from the malice of his enemies, amongst whom the clergy were most
malignant. But early in 1847 his protector died, and Gurgín
Khán, who succeeded to the government of Isfahán, not
sharing the feelings of his predecessor, at once sent the Báb off
under an armed escort to Teherán, that the then-reigning King
Muhammad Sháh and his ill advised minister Hájí
Mírzá Ákásí might deal
p. 338
with the reformer as they pleased. The King would seem to have
desired to see the Báb; but the minister, fearful lest his sovereign
should yield to the potent influence of the young prophet, vigorously
combated this proposal, pointing out the impudence of allowing one whose
doctrines had already made such progress amongst all classes to enter
the capital and be seen by its inhabitants. The minister's advice finally
prevailed, and orders were issued for the transference of the Báb
to the remote frontier-fortress of Mákú, whereof the
governor, 'Alí Khán, was a creature of the minister,
wholly devoted to his interests. Thither accordingly was the Báb
conveyed, but such was the sympathy of the people with him and their
anxiety to behold him, that it was found necessary to avoid as much as
possible all towns and large villages, and even amongst the escort
appointed to guard him several conversations took place.
Soon after his arrival at Mákú, the Báb was
summoned to Tabríz and again examined concerning his doctrine
by a number of the chief clergy, presided over by the present Shah of
Persia, then Crown-Prince. Concerning what passed there we have only
the Muhammadan accounts; but even from these, partial and one-sided as
they are, we can clearly perceive that, so far from there being any
attempt at serious investigation, the proceedings were characterized
throughout by the most shameful levity and unfairness. "If you are the
'Gate of Knowledge.'" they said to him, "you must of course be able to
answer any questions we choose to ask you"; and thereupon they fell to
interrogating him about the technicalities of medicine, grammar,
philosophy, login and the like. To these senseless and insolent questions,
the Báb, perceiving that he had been brought thither, not to be
judged but to be mocked, returned no answer; and his persecutors,
wearying of their sport, ordered him to be beaten and sent back to his
prison at Mákú. significant of the sympathy towards him
which animated the common people, is the fact that the priests could find
no one willing to execute their mandate, and were finally compelled to
inflict the punishment themselves.
So far from suffering himself to be discouraged by this harsh
treatment, the Báb continued to write down and codify his
doctrines and ordinances with unabated diligence. Two brothers, Siyyid
Huseyn and Siyyid Hasan, of Yezd, shared his captivity. The former of
these was continually occupied in transcribing and arranging his master's
words; and, in spite of the strict injunctions of the Prime Minister, means
were found to convey these precious writings into the hands of the
faithful. The Báb's doctrines, too, underwent considerable
development. He declared that he was not merely the "Gate"
leading to the Imám Mahdi, but the Imám himself; that he
was indeed the "Point" or Primal Truth once more revealed in
man, and that what in previous revelations had been set forth darkly and
in riddles he now proclaimed openly and without reserve. At the same
time he claimed no finality for his revelation, declaring that after him one
yet greater (whom he named "He whom God shall manifest")
p. 339
should appear for the perfecting of that which he had begun. In the
books composed by the Báb at this time it is curious to perceive
that his chief anxiety was not for his own fate, but for the reception
which should be accorded by his followers to "Him whom God shall
manifest." Again and again, almost in every page, he entreats these
not to behave in the next manifestation as the Muhammadans have
behaved in this, and to remember that no revelation is final, but only
represents the measure of truth which the state of human progress has
rendered mankind capable of receiving. For about six months the
Báb remained at Mákú, and then the
Government, perceiving that his disciples still succeeded in ganing access
to him, transferred him to the closer imprisonment of Chihrík.
Here is was only by means of letters concealed in walnuts, or sewn up in
waterproof and sunk in milk, and the like, that correspondence between
the Báb and his followers was any longer possible.
We must now leave the Báb for a while, and turn our
attention tot he efforts of his disciples to spread the new faith, and the
tragic events wherein these efforts culminated. Mullá Huseyn,
whom I have already mentioned as the first to believe, was conspicuous,
even amongst the devoted missionaries who went forth into every quarter
of Persia, for his fiery energy and indomitable spirit. Night and day, now
on Ispahán, now in Káshán, now in
Teherán, now in Mash-had, was he occupied in persuading
inquirers, confirming waverers, and encouraging the faithful. Weariness
and despair were alike unknown to the ardent spirit which animated that
fragile-looking frame. Expelled from Teherán, he went to Mash-
had; arrested there by Hamzé Mírzá, one of the
uncles of the present Sháh, he nevertheless succeeded in
effecting his escape, and, in company with a small but ever-increasing
band of followers, again set out westwards, intending, as it would appear,
to proceed to Mákú and attempt to liberate the
Báb. Now at length the enmity between the Muhammadans and
the Bábís threatened to break out in open warfare, and at
the village of Sháhrúd a serious collision seemed
inevitable, when suddenly a messenger arrived announcing that
Muhammad Sháh had breathed his last. This was in September,
1848.
When a king dies in Persia, a period of anarchy and lawlessness
ensues, to which European countries are fortunately strangers. The local
authorities, uncertain of the continued tenure of their offices, hasten to the
capital to make favour with the new government, or else employ the days
of disorder for their own ends. The mechanism of the State is for the
time being unhinged and thrown out of gear, laws are practically
suspended, plunder and rapine are rife, and life and property are
imperilled. Such was the state of things which Mullá Huseyn was
called upon to confront. It demanded all his judgement and all his
energies; for if on the one hand there was a hope that the new
government might prove more favourably disposed towards the
Báb than its predecessor had been, there was on the other hand
great immediate danger to be apprehended from the
p. 340
unrestrained lawlessness of the ill-disposed, from which almost ever
check had for the present been removed. Mullá Huseyn
accordingly pushed on rapidly to the village of Badasht, situated near the
borders of the province of Mázandarán, and there
effected a junction with another band of his co-religionists under the
leadership of Mullá Muhammad `Alí of
Bárfurúsh. Amongst these was one person so
remarkable as to merit at least a passing notice.
Rarely indeed does it happen in a Muhammadan country that a
woman attains distinction and fame. Yet if ever a woman deserved not
fame only but immortality, that woman was Zarrín-
Táj the daughter of Hájí Mullá
Muhammad Sálih of Kazvín, better known by the name
of Kurralu'l-`Ayn ("Freshness" or
"Delight" of the Eyes"), which the
Bábís bestowed on her. Endowed with rare beauty and
yet rarer intellectual gifts, she was well versed in Arabic, the
Kur'án, the traditions, and philosophy, besides which she was in
her own language eloquent beyond measure, and a poetess of no mean
order. Indescribably galling to such a woman must have been the
condition of dependence and intellectual stagnation in which her sex are
doomed by the ordinances of Islám to dwell; and it was probably
on learning that the Báb sought amongst other social reforms to
raise women to the rank of equality with men that she became first
attracted towards his teaching. Once persuaded of its truth, she
embraced the new doctrine with all the vehemence of an enthusiastic
nature; and began, in spite of the violent opposition of here relatives
(almost all of whom belonged to the clerical or priestly class), to profess
and preach the Bábí faith. Compelled finally by
circumstances which it would take too long to detail to fly from her native
town of Kazvín, she now appears amongst the
Bábís in council in Badasht.
It was decided that to this beautiful, courageous, and eloquent woman
should be committed the task of encouraging the faithful and confirming
the lukewarm by an address delivered from a rude pulpit, hastily
constructed of stones and logs heaped together. Every other sound was
hushed and every ear was strained as that clear sweet voice began to
speak of the new dispensation inaugurated upon earth, of the reign of
universal justice and love which was at hand, of the approaching downfall
of tyranny, bigotry, and oppression. As she proceeded, exhorting them not
to stand back at this most critical moment, not to allow a craven fear to
keep them aloof from the glorious enterprise, not to fail in the coming
struggle for faith and freedom, the silence was broken by sobs of
heartfelt emotion and cries of "Ey Ján!"
("O my life!"), "Ey Táhira!"
("O pure one!"), "Kurbánat
gardam!" ("May I be thy sacrifice!"), and the like.
The most listless and apathetic were roused; the wavering became
assured, strong men wept. No hesitation or half-heartedness now; all
were resolved to stand firm even to the death, and their later deeds bore
abundant testimony to the unshakeable firmness of their purpose. And
now let Kurratu'l-`Ayn, having wrought her great work, depart for a
while to
p. 341
wander in the highlands of Núr, and to be betrayed into the
hands of her ruthless foes. We shall meet her once again on that terrible
day in 1852 when the storm of fire and steel and tortures not to be
described or imagined broke impotent against a courage and steadfast
endurance which has made the very name of Bábí a
word which no Persian can utter without a certain involuntary awe and
admiration.
It would take far more time than we have at our disposal to follow in
detail the occurrences of those eventful days. Let us therefore pass on
quickly to the ultimate fate of Mullá Huseyn and his companions.
Eight months or so have elapsed since the events above recorded, and it
is now the summer of 1849. You must try to picture yourselves a flat
fenny country covered with tall reeds and grasses or occasional swampy
rice-fields, and sparingly traversed by narrow, muddy paths. To the north,
dim and grey, lies the Caspian Sea. To the south, fen passes gradually
into forest, which slopes upwards towards the vast black wall formed by
the Elburz mountains. Just where the fens end and the forest begins,
isolated amidst swamps and thickets, stands the tomb of Sheykh
Tarbarsí, a holy man of bygone days. The little building which
marks the site of the tomb stands in the midst of a grassy sward about
100 yards long and 70 yards wide. This enclosure contains a few wild
pomegranate trees, and is surrounded by rude earthworks and palisades.
These, as well as the buildings of the shrine, are riddled with shot and
stained with gore, while the grassy sward is marked with many a freshly-
made grave. The forms of men emaciated to skeletons with drawn faces
and sunken eyes (wherein nevertheless still glows the light of an
enthusiasm which neither privation nor suffering can quench) pass
occasionally across the enclosure. These are the remnants of the
Bábís whom we last saw at Badasht hanging on the
words of Kurratu'l-`Ayn, and this is their last retreat. Here for eight
weary months have they held at bay the royal army, and, by dint of
courage and skill incredible in men trained for the most part to peaceful
avocations, again and again inflicted on it defeats and losses which had
caused even the less sanguine amongst the besieged to hope for ultimate
victory. But now at length the end has come. Their brave leader,
Mullá Huseyn, is dead, killed in the very moment of an heroic
exploit by a stray bullet fired from some hidden ambush. Their provisions
are all used up. A few days previously a desperate but unsuccessful
attempt had been made to cut through the ever-tightening cordon of
troops. To give them strength for this final effort, they had been
compelled to exhume the bones of the horse which had carried their
gallant leader through his last fray, and from these to make a sort of broth
which might at least serve to keep body and soul together. Absolute
starvation now stares them in the face and further resistance appears
impossible. Yet, in spite of their miserable plight, so great is the dread
with which their valour has inspired the royal troops, that even at this
eleventh hour a message has come from the royalist officers promising
them life and liberty if they will yield up their fortress.
p. 342
To deliberate on this proposal the Bábí leaders are
now assembled together in the mausoleum of the departed Sheykh. At
length it is decided to accept the terms offered and evacuate the fortress.
A written promise signed by the royalist leaders and confirmed by oaths
sworn on the Kur'án lulls all suspicion of treachery; and now at
length in slow procession the survivors of the Bábí
garrison emerge from their stronghold, and pass through the wondering
ranks of the besiegers to the place allotted to them.
At first all seems fair enough. Food is set before the starving
Bábí's, and their leaders are invited to take their
breakfast with Prince Mahdí-Kulf Mírzá and 'Abbás-Kulí
Khán, of Láriján, the royalist generals. As the
meal proceeds, the latter artfully turn the conversation on to religious
topics. The unsuspecting Bábís speak freely and boldly of
that which is nearest their hearts. The prince listens attentively, smiling
now and then a false and cruel smile as he marks the success of his
stratagem. Suddenly he springs to his feet, claps his hands, and cries out
that his guests have uttered blasphemy, in that they make the Báb
not only equal to but greater than Muhammad. Promises plighted to
infidels are not binding, and shall not avert the vengeance of outraged
orthodoxy. The soldiers rush in and seize the unarmed and helpless
Bábí chiefs. Another party of soldiers fall suddenly upon
the other Bábís, who, in the quarters assigned to them,
have scarce as yet stretched out their hands to taste the first good food
they have seen for many weeks. The captives are dragged before the
royalist generals, and, at their command, cast down on the ground and cut
open with knives. Five or six of the chief Bábís only are
reserved from the massacre to grace the prince's triumphal entry into
Bárfurúsh; and, bearing with them these and the heads of
the slain set on spears, the victorious army sets out with beating drums
and blowing trumpets for the town. On their way thither they are met by
deputations of the Mullás, who congratulate them on their
prowess and clamour loudly for the blood of the few remaining prisoners.
The royalist generals had entertained the idea of carrying these with them
to Teherán, that they might show to the young Sháh
those who had dared for so long to withstand his armies. The
Mullás, however, are importunate; the point is yielded;
and Hájí Mullá Muhammad 'All and his four or
five surviving comrades are handed over to their inveterate foes, who
tear them limb from limb in the market-place of
Bárfurúsh. They meet death unflinchingly, as brave men
should, and night settles down over the blood-stained and mangled
remains of the last survivors of Sheykh Tabarsí.
The temporary lull which followed the suppression of the
Mázandarán insurrection was soon broken by a similar
struggle at Zanján in the north-west of Persia. Into the details of
this struggle it is impossible to enter here. The scene is changed from
fens and forests to the narrow, tortuous, mud-walled streets of a Persian
town, lying, amidst pleasant poplar-gardens, which mark the course of a
little river, in the stony, sun-baked table-land
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of central Persia. But though the scene is changed, the incidents of
the struggle are otherwise much the same. There is the same desperate
and indomitable courage on the part of the Bábís; the
same carelessness, cowardice, and mismanagement on the part of the
besiegers. The Bábí women cut off their long hair to bind
round the crazy guns which have begun to gape and crack under the
constant firing, and are continually on the ramparts encouraging their
husbands and brothers in the attempt to avert the inevitable doom. But
soon, as at Sheykh Tabarsí, the attack by storm is succeeded by
the blockade, and the horrors of famine stare the besieged in the face.
Then come the same treacherous promises, resulting in a surrender
followed, as before, by a perfidious massacre of the too confiding
Bábís.
This summer Of 1850 was marked by other events not less fateful.
While the siege of Zanján was still in progress, another
Bábí rising took place at Níríz far away
in the south of Persia. The Government, thoroughly alarmed, determined
on a measure which, as it believed, could not fail to deal a death-blow to
the Bábí movement. The Báb, who had now
been subjected for more than three years to a rigorous imprisonment,
could not, indeed, be considered as directly responsible for the attitude of
armed resistance assumed by his followers; nevertheless the
Government, regarding him as the fountain-head of those doctrines which
had convulsed the whole Persian empire, determined that he should die.
With his death, as they imagined, the whole movement must collapse.
Had they been better acquainted with the Báb's doctrine, they
might have hesitated before taking a step which could have no 'Certain
result' save that of exasperating his followers beyond all measure. For, as
a matter of fact, the Báb had striven to render his religion as far
as possible independent of his personality in two ways. First of all, as we
have already seen, he had declared that it was in no sense final, and had
foretold the coining of "Him whom God shall manifest" to complete and
perfect the religion which he had founded. Secondly, he had not centred
the spiritual authority even during his lifetime in himself alone, but
in what he called the "Unity" — a sort of hierarchy consisting of
himself," the Point," and eighteen other persons called "Letters of the
Living." Why the number nineteen was chosen as the sacred
number and employed as such, not only here, but in all the relations of life,
it would take too long to explain. Suffice it to say that certain curious
facts connected with the numerical values of the letters composing
certain words indicating Divine attributes seemed to the Báb to
point it out as a number essentially sacred, mysterious, and worthy of
being made the basis whereon all things should be arranged. Now this "
Unity " was in its very nature permanent; for, when any one of the
" Letters " composing it died, the grace and virtue inherent in him
passed to some other Bábí, who thereupon became
incorporated in the "Unity," which in this way remained constant.
After the "Point", (i.e. the Báb) the two chief "Letters"
of the "Unity" had been Mullá
p. 344
Huseyn and Mullá Muhammad 'Alí. Both of these
having been killed at Sheykh Tabarsí, a youth named
Mírzá Yahyá, and entitled by the
Bábís "Subh-i-Ezel" ("the Morning of
Eternity"), now occupied the highest rank in the Unity after the
Báb himself. Of this, however, as of all else appertaining to the
Bábí doctrine, the Musulmáns were quite
ignorant, and they confidently expected that the new faith would expire
with its founder, on whose destruction they were now bent.
The Báb, therefore, was haled from Chihrík to
Tabriz, and once more arraigned before judges whose sentence was a
foregone conclusion. The trial which he now underwent was nothing but
a protracted series of insults and indignities. One result, however, his
tormentors were anxious to attain, and that was to induce the
Báb formally to renounce the doctrine which he had taught. This,
however, they were unable to accomplish. In reply to all their threats and
promises, he continued to assert that in him was fulfilled what they
understood by the coming of the Imám Mahdí. They
scoffed at his pretensions, and told him that the Imám they
expected was that same Imám who had disappeared more than
twelve centuries ago in Surra-man-ra'a, and that when he came he would
come as a mighty conqueror to slay and subdue the infidels, and establish
the faith of Islám throughout the world. "Through just such vain
superstitions," he replied, "did all former peoples reject and slay the
prophets sent unto them. Did not the Jews profess to be expecting their
promised Messiah when Jesus the Son of Mary appeared in their midst?
And did not they reject and slay Him who was indeed their Messiah,
because they falsely imagined that the Messiah must come as a great
Conqueror and King to re-establish the faith of Moses, and give it
currency throughout the world? Now the Muhammadans were acting as
the Jews had acted, because, like them, they clung to their own vain
superstitions, refusing to see that the kingdom and the victory spoken of
were spiritual and not material."
The fatal sentence was pronounced by the civil and ratified by the
religious authorities, and Mírzá `Alí Muhammad
was led back to prison. His last night on earth was not spent in solitude.
With him were Aká Seyyid Huseyn, of Yezd, his amanuensis,
and a young merchant of Tabríz, named Aká Muhammad
'Alí, who was his devoted disciple. The latter belonged to a good
family, by whom every effort was made to induce him to save his life by
renouncing his master. The following letter, written by him the very night
before his martyrdom, contains his reply to a last appeal of this nature
addressed to him by his elder brother:
"My condition, thanks be to God, hath naught of ill, and 'to
every trouble succeedeth rest." You wrote that this matter hath no end.
What matter, then, hath any end? We, at least, have no discontent therein,
and, indeed, cannot fitly express our thankfulness. The end of this matter
is, to be slain in God's cause and what happiness is this! The will of God
will be accomplished on is servants, nor can any human being avert the
Divine decree. What God wills comes to pass, and there is no
p. 345
power and no strength save in God. 0 brother, the end of the world is
death; `every soul tasteth of death.' Should the appointed fate which God
(mighty and glorious is He !) hath decreed overtake me, then God is the
Guardian of my family, and thou art mine executor. Behave in whatever
way is agreeable to God's good pleasure, and pardon whatever has been
wrought by me which seemeth lacking in courtesy, or contrary to the
demands of that respect due to you from your younger brother, and ask
pardon for me from all my family, and commit me to God. God is my
portion, and how good is He as a Guardian!"
Little by little the night ebbed away, and the sky grew bright with the
dawn of July 9th, 1850. Ere the prisoners were led out, all Tabríz
was astir, and when at length they were brought forth by their
executioners, every street and lane through which they were to
pass teemed with crowds of expectant onlookers. Of these, some were
attracted by sympathy, or a hope that even now some opportunity for
effecting a rescue might arise; others, drawn merely by curiosity to
behold one so famous, were moved to pity by the pale gentle face, white
delicate hands, and simple but spotless raiment of the sufferer ; but the
brutal rabble, urged on by the malignant and implacable clergy, cast
stones and mud at the helpless captives, and gave vent to shouts of joy
whenever a missile took effect. For several hours were the prisoners
dragged thus through the endless streets and bazaars of Tabríz,
until at length Seyyid Huseyn, his powers of endurance utterly exhausted,
fell to the ground fainting with fatigue and pain. He was dragged to his
feet and told that he might yet save his life and gain his freedom if he
would renounce and repudiate his Master. And thereupon Seyyid Huseyn,
whether impelled by a momentary fear which his exhausted strength
could not combat (as asserted by the Muhammadans), or acting on
instructions from the Báb, whereof the object was to preserve
and convey to the faithful the last writings and injunctions of their prophet
(as stated by the Bábís), did that which he was bidden to
do, and as the price thereof received his freedom. No sooner had the
crowd passed on than he gathered himself together, and at once set out
for Teherán. On his arrival there he at once made his way to his
co-religionists, who, whether convinced that he had acted under his
master's orders, or moved by his sincere and evident contrition, received
him back into their midst. That he was not unworthy of their confidence,
he found the opportunity to prove when two years later the cup of
martyrdom was for the second time presented to him.
Encouraged by the recantation of Seyyid Huseyn, the
executioners made another attempt to induce Aká Muhammad
'Alí to follow his example. His wife and little children were
brought before him in the hope that their tears and entreaties might
conquer his resolution. Even against this most cruel trial he was proof,
and only asked that he might be killed before his master. The soldiers,
finding all efforts to move him fruitless, and being wearied to boot, led the
two prisoners to the great square by the citadel
p. 346
(called, by a strange coincidence, the " Square of the Lord of the
age") and there suspended them with ropes from staples set in one of the
walls. As the firing-party took up its position Aká Muhammad
'Alí was heard to say to the Báb, "Master, art thou
content with me?" To this the Báb replied in Arabic, "Verily Muhammad 'Alí is with us in paradise!" Hardly had the
words left his lips when the crash of musketry rang out, and for a
moment the rolling cloud of smoke hid the bodies of the victims. As it
lifted a great cry of wonder and awe rose from the spectators. The
lifeless body of the disciple, indeed, riddled with bullets, swung to and fro
in the air, but of the Báb no trace nor sign was visible. A murmur
arose that this was a miracle, and the authorities perceived with terror
that the fickle populace was ready to veer round and declare for one
whom but an hour ago they had jeered and pelted. Had it been so, it might
well have been that then and there the faith of the Báb would
have won a definitive victory over the religion of Muhammad; and for an
instant the fate of the Kájár dynasty and the faith of
Islám hung trembling in the balance. But not so was it ordained.
Ere the crowd had recovered from their first amaze, a soldier perceived
the Báb (whose bonds by some strange chance had been cut by
the bullets which passed harmlessly by his body) taking shelter in an
adjacent guard-house, followed him thither, and made a cut at him with
his sword. When the others saw the red blood flow from their unresisting
victim, their fear was gone, and they hastened to complete their work of
death. The two bodies were dragged through the streets and cast out of
the gate to feed the dogs and jackals; but by night came
Suleymán Khán, and one or two others, with gold in one
hand and a sword in the other, offering the choice between these to the
guards appointed to prevent the burial of the bodies. The guards took the
gold and surrendered the bodies, which were wrapped in fine silk, placed
in one coffin, and conveyed secretly to Teherán, to be there
bestowed in a place of safety. So ended the short and sorrowful but noble
career of Mirzá 'Alí Muhammad the Báb. When
we reflect on all that he suffered during the six years of his mission, we
can well believe that, as he says in the Beyán, "the days of his
gladness were the days preceding his manifestation."
The tragedies of this fatal year were not yet ended. On the very day
of the Báb's martyrdom the Níríz insurrection,
and a few weeks later the Zanján siege, were quenched in
streams of blood. Between these two events took place at
Teherán the martyrdom of seven Bábís, accused
without shadow of proof of harbouring designs against the Prime
Minister, Mirzá Takí Khán. Amongst all classes,
as we learn from the diary, of an English lady whose husband at that time
occupied a responsible position in the British Embassy, their faith aroused
general commiseration, and amongst their fellow-believers they received
the title of the "Seven Martyrs."
p. 347
Amongst them was the Báb's uncle, Hájí
Seyyid 'Alí, to whose care tile Báb had been committed
on the death of his father. It is worth remarking that in this case the
prophet was not without honour in his own country, for amongst his
immediate relatives the Báb found some of his staunchest
supporters, and even at the present day many of the most influential and
devoted Bábís belong to his family. At the last moment,
almost as he knelt beneath the knife of the headsman,
Hájí Seyyid 'Alí received an offer of pardon if he
would consent to renounce his faith. This offer he unhesitatingly rejected,
concluding his words with this quotation:
"0 Zephyr, say from me to Ishmael destined for sacrifice, 'It is
not a condition of love to return alive from the street of the Friend.'
Every one of the seven met death with like firmness. Amongst them
was an old dervish, named Kurbán 'Alí, who also refused
to save his life by recantation. The first blow struck at him by the
headsman only wounded his neck slightly and cast his turban to the
ground, whereupon he cried out as he stood awaiting the second :
"0 happy that intoxicated lover, who at the feet of the Friend
Knows not whether it be head or turban which he casts ! "
A year elapsed after this, unmarked by any very noteworthy event,
so far as the Bábís are concerned. Persecution went on
steadily in all parts of the country; but the general attention was
somewhat diverted from the Bábís by the sudden
disgrace and fall of Mírzá Takí Khán,
the minister by whose advice the Báb had been put to death.
>From disgrace to death is for a fallen minister but a short step in Eastern
lands, and even the fact that he was married to the Sháh's sister,
who continually watched over his safety with loving anxiety, could not
save the once powerful noble. He was enticed by a cruel stratagem out
of his wife's sight, she being informed that the Sháh had once
more taken him into favour; and even while she was rejoicing in his
imagined safety his life-blood was flowing slowly from his open veins.
That no drop of bitterness might be lacking from the cup, the executioner,
whose specious promises had for a moment lulled to rest the unwearying
watchfulness of the minister's wife, was one who had been raised to the
Sháh's favour solely by him whose fainting soul now realized the
meed of those who put their trust in princes, and slay the holy ones of
God. So perished Mírzá Takí Khán in the
month of January, 1852; and we can scarcely wonder that the
Bábís see in the fate which overtook him a signal
instance of Divine vengeance.
Six months more elapsed, and then, in August, 1852, an event
happened which brought down upon the Bábís a
persecution fiercer than any which they had yet experienced. A certain
youth named Sádik, of Zanján, whose
p. 348
attachment to the Báb had amounted almost to a passion,
conceived in his mind a plan of taking vengeance on the tyrant who had
slain his beloved master and ruthlessly persecuted all who held the
Bábí faith. This plan he communicated to two of his
fellow-believers, and, early on the morning of August 15th, the three,
armed with pistols charged with shot, stood at the gate of the
Sháh's palace of Niyávarán, awaiting the
moment when the king, surrounded by his nobles, should go forth to the
chase. That moment came at length, and, in the guise of suppliants, the
avengers approached. Two successive pistol shots rang out on the air,
and then, drawing their knives, the three Bábís rushed on
the Sháh and tried to drag him from his horse. Ere they could
effect their object the royal attendants were upon them. Sádik
was stricken dead to the ground, and his two companions were seized
and bound. The Sháh, slightly wounded in the back, had no
sooner recovered from his alarm than he was filled with terrible wrath.
The two surviving Bábís were put to the torture; but,
though they avowed their faith and their object, they refused to disclose
the names of any of their co-religionists, or to divulge their places of
meeting. Their stubborn reticence was, however, unavailing, for a
vigorous search, instituted by the secret police of Teherán,
resulted in the capture of some forty Bábís, of whom a
large number were surprised in the house of Suleymán
Khán, the recoverer of the Bábs body. Five or six of
these, including Behá'u'lláh, who now claims the
allegiance of the great majority of the Bábís, were
spared, but all the rest were doomed to die. Yet such was the fear in
which the new Prime Minister stood of incurring the vengeance of the
sect, that he resolved to make all classes partners in the slaughter of the
prisoners. To this end he distributed these amongst the different
departments of the Government, guilds of tradesmen, and other sections
of the community, at the same time hinting to each that the Sháh
would be able to judge of their loyalty and orthodoxy by the manner in
which they dealt with their victims. The war-office, the secretaries of
State, the merchants, the clergy, the dervishes, the pages in waiting, even
the students of the University-then recently founded on a European
model-each received their allotted prisoner. Terrible were the modes of
inflicting death which some of these, impelled either by savage fanaticism,
fear of suspicion, or mere love of cruelty, devised. Of the unfortunate
Bábís, some were hewn in pieces, some were sawn
asunder, some were flayed with whips, some were blown from the
mouths of mortars. Suleymán Khán was marked out by
his rank, and by the shelter which his house had afforded to the
proscribed sect, for tortures yet more horrible. Lighted wicks were
inserted in gashes inflicted on his limbs and body, and his teeth were
wrenched from his mouth and driven into the crown of his head. Yet
even in his anguish he continued to testify such rapturous joy at the
thought of his pre-eminence in suffering and martyrdom, that his
executioners asked him in bitter mockery why he did not sing. "Sing!" he
cried, "and so I will." And thereupon he began to sing,
p. 349
"In one hand the wine-cup, in the other the locks of the Friend,
Such a dance in the midst of the market-place is my
desire."
Amongst the victims of that terrible day were two with whom we
have already become acquainted. One was Seyyid Huseyn of Yezd, who,
consumed with the anguish of that day when, in appearance at least, he
had renounced his master, met death not only with resignation, but with
uncontrollable eagerness. The other was the beautiful and gifted Kurratu-
1'Ayn, who, though for more than a year she had been in close
confinement, and could not, therefore, have had any part or lot in the
conspiracy against the Sháh, was too notable an adherent of the
new faith to look for immunity. Dr. Polak, an Austrian physician then in
the Sháh's service, actually witn essed her execution, concerning
which he writes: 2 "The beautiful woman endured the lingering
death with superhuman fortitude." Certain lines in some of the poems
attributed to her authorship, and still passionately cherished by the
Bábís, would tempt us to believe that she had long
foreseen the inevitable doom which awaited her. The following translation
of one of the most celebrated of these poems (of which I received a copy
from a Bábí at Yezd in the summer of 1888) will suffice
as an illustration. In it I have attempted to preserve the original metre and
rhyme, and also to adhere strictly to the sense. Let it be borne in mind
that by "the Loved One," "the Darling," and other such terms, the
Báb is throughout intended, just as the Sufís in their
poems address God as the "Friend," and the "Beloved."
"The thralls of yearning love constrain in the bonds of pain and
calamity
These broken-hearted lovers of thine to yield their lives in their zeal for
thee.
Though with sword in hand my Darling stand with intent to slay, though I
sinless be,
If it pleases him, this tyrant's whim, I am well content with his
tyranny.
As in sleep I lay at the break of day that cruel Charmer came to
me,
And in the grace of his form and face the dawn of the morn 1 seemed to
see.
The musk of Cathay might perfume gain from the scent those fragrant
tresses rain,
While his eyes demolish a faith in vain attacked by the pagans of
Tartary.
With you, -who contemn both love and wine for the hermit's cell and the
zealot's shrine,
What can I do ? For our faith divine you hold as a thing of infamy.
The tangled curls of thy darling's hair, and thy saddle and steed are
thine only care,
In thy heart the Infinite bath no share, nor the thought of the poor man's
poverty.
Sikandar's pomp and display be thine, the Kalanda's habit and
way be mine;
That, if it please thee, I resign, while this, though bad, is enough for
me.
The country of `I' and 'We' forsake; thy home in Annihilation make,
Since fearing not this step to take thou shalt gain the highest Felicity."
Thus far I have traced the progress of the Bábí
movement in a fairly continuous manner, although the need of confining
myself within certain limits has compelled me to omit much of which I
would fain have spoken.
p. 350
We have now reached a point where the scene and the characters
are in great measure changed; and indeed it would hardly be too much to
say that we have now entered on a new epoch in the history of the faith.
That I should strive to make clear the beginnings of that faith was
essential, but space does not permit me to do more than sketch in outline
its more recent developments. My desire at present is rather to awaken
your interest and sympathy in an heroic struggle, which I do not hesitate
to call the greatest religious movement of the century, than to
communicate to you the latest results of research.
The centre of the movement, then, is transferred from Persian to
Turkish territory ; to be more precise, Baghdad becomes for the next
eleven years the abode of such of the Bábí leaders as
escaped the terrible devastation of 1852. Thither fled Mirzá
Yahyá Subh-i-Ezel," who, as I have already mentioned,
became, on the death of the Báb, the chief "Letter" of the
"Unity." He was soon followed by his half-brother, Behá'u'lláh (also a member of the Unity), who, having narrowly escaped
death, now found release from the prison into which he had been cast. In
Persia persecution continued with varying severity, and continually was
the Bábí colony at Baghdad recruited by exiles forced to
fly from their own homes. Every effort was made by the Persian
authorities to molest and injure the fugitives, who, as a last resource,
enrolled themselves as Turkish subjects. By this device they at length
obtained some peace and security, for, whatever prejudiced persons may
assert to the contrary, the Turkish Government is on the whole both
tolerant and just, at all events in comparison with Persia. For twelve
years, then, the Bábí leaders dwelt. here, engaged in
writing, codifying, and diffusing their religion, and exhorting their followers
to refrain from all resistance to the authorities and, by virtuous lives,
patient resignation, and kindly dealing with all men, to commend their faith
to the whole world. So far did they succeed that from the year 1852 until
the present time, the Bábís have patiently and
unresistingly submitted to all the persecutions which they have suffered
and still do suffer.
In the year 1864, the Persian Government induced the Turkish
authorities to transfer the Bábí exiles farther from their
frontier-first to Constantinople and then to Adrianople. Now while they
were at Adrianople a great event took place, which had the effect of
dividing the Bábís into two antagonistic parties. Subh-i-
Ezel, as I have explained, had hitherto been generally acknowledged as
the legitimate successor of the Báb, and the visible head of the
Bábí faith. But, as I have also explained, the Báb
had declared that his revelation was not final, and that he would, at some
future time not specified, be succeeded by "Him whom God shall
manifest." It was generally believed that this new manifestation would not
take place for at least a thousand years, ere the lapse of which many
countries should have accepted the religion of the Báb. At the
same time the Báb had laid it down that the time of this promised
deliverer's advent was known only to God, that no one could falsely claim
to be him, that he would appear
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suddenly and unexpectedly, and that when he appeared the fullest
authority to confirm or annul, to bind or to loose, was his indisputable
prerogative. So, when Behá'u'lláh suddenly declared that
he was their promised deliverer, whose manifestation they so eagerly
expected, and warned all the Bábís not to remain "veiled," as the Muhammadans had done, the greater number at once
acknowledged his authority, received his words as divinely inspired, and
yielded to him an implicit and unqualified submission. So for these
Behá'ís, as they are now called, the writings of the
Báb became an old testament, and the ordinances of the
Beyán an abrogated law. But not all of the Bábís
were content to accept this superseding of a law not yet much more than
twenty years old. Subh-i-Ezel himself declined to acknowledge
Behá'u'lláh's claim, or to abdicate in his favour, and a
minority of the Bábís (now called Ezelís) refused
to withdraw their allegiance from him or acknowledge another chief
Dissensions naturally arose, which culminated in the interference of the
Turkish government and the final separation of the rival heads. Subh-i-
Ezel was sent to Famagusta in Cyprus, and Behá 'u
'lláh to Acre in Syria, and there they remain to the present day,
the former surrounded by a very few, the latter by many devoted
adherents. Less than a year ago I visited both places, and heard both
sides of a long and tangled controversy. But the upshot of the whole
matter is, that out of every hundred Bábís probably not
more than three or four are Ezelís, all the rest accepting
Behá'u'lláh as the final and most perfect manifestation of
the Truth.
Having now traced very briefly the later history of the sect, I must
add some few words as to the most salient features of their faith. To
discuss this fully would need more time than has been allotted to me
altogether, and I am therefore forced to enumerate such points as have
not already been alluded to in the merest outline. God-one, eternal,
incomprehensible-reveals to man so much as he can apprehend of truth
by means of an endless but intermittent succession of prophets. The
essence of their teaching is, in reality, one and the same; for the same
universal wisdom speaks, and the same divine will acts through all of
them. But as man advances and evolves his latent potentialities, he needs
a fuller light, and can bear a clearer teaching. We tell a child that
knowledge is sweet. "Is it sweet like sugar?" it asks. And we,
because we wish to teach it to love knowledge, are compelled to speak in
that language which it can understand, and which, to it, is the nearest
approach to absolute truth attainable, and answer, "Yes; sweet
like sugar." So it is with man, for the human race has an infancy, a
childhood, a youth, a maturity. And now, in its maturity, those illustrations
-sufficient for and adapted to its infancy are no longer suitable. Heaven is
true, but it is a state, not a place." If to-day any one believes in the
Beyán," says the Báb, "he is seated on a throne of glory,
though he be seated in the dust." So too wherever an unbeliever dwells,
there is the `"Land of Fire." There is a resurrection, but it is not that which
men have imagined; each "manifestation" of the divine wisdom in
human form is
p. 352
the "resurrection" of that which preceded it, wherein the fruit is
reaped of the seed then sown. That is the "judgment," that is the "
meeting with God," and the angels are the reapers who go forth to gather
in what is ripe and good. And thus it is that, according to whether they
are addressing a Muhammadan, a Christian, *or a Jew, the
Bábís say that the Imám Mahdí has
come, that Christ has returned, or that Moses has reappeared on earth ;
for to them all these phrases signify the same thing. As to the belief in a
future life, it is there, but it is not prominent. A universal reign of peace,
love, freedom, and unity of belief and effort is the thing primarily aimed at; for Bábíism, in spite of the mystic enthusiasm which
pervades it, differs from Sufíism. in the essentially practical
objects which it has in view. A material resurrection is denied, and the
immaterial future of the spirit must not divert our thoughts from the work
of regenerating the world. War must cease, nations must mingle in
friendship, justice must become universal, all men must be as brothers.
"Ye are all the fruit of one tree," says Behá, "and the
leaves of one branch. Walk, then, with perfect charity, concord, affection,
and agreement, for I swear by the Sun of Truth that the light of
agreement shall brighten and illumine the horizons." So again he says,
"Pride is not for him who loveth his country, but rather for him who loveth
the whole world." As for those who commit sin and cling to the world," he
says elsewhere, they are assuredly not of the people of
Behá"
Religious hatred and rancour is a world-consuming fire," we read in
another place," and the quenching thereof most arduous, unless the hand
of Divine Might give man deliverance from this unfruitful calamity."
People of all creeds are to be associated with in a fair and friendly spirit,
not shunned as unclean or treated as foes. Persuasion may be used to
gain converts, but the employment of force is hateful to God. "If ye be
slain, it is better for you than that ye should slay." The diffusion of
knowledge is a most laudable thing, for, says Behá, "he who
educateth his son, or one of the sons of another, it is as though he had
educated one of my sons." But studies like logic and philosophy, which
conduce only to disputation, are discouraged. The study of living
languages is, on the other hand, encouraged, since it conduces to the
closer union of diverse peoples. It is, however, recommended that in
course of time one language (either one of those at present existing, or a
new universal language) and one writing be chosen by the assembled
representatives of the different nations, and that these be taught to every
one, so that thenceforth there may be no obstacle to the free intercourse
of all mankind.
I trust that I have told you enough to make it clear that the objects at
which this religion aims are neither trivial nor unworthy of the noble self-
devotion and heroism of the Founder and his followers. It is the lives and
deaths of these, their hope which knows no despair, their love which
knows no cooling, their steadfastness which knows no wavering, which
stamp this wonderful movement with a character entirely its own. For
whatever may
p. 353
be the merits or demerits of the doctrines for which these scores and
hundreds of our fellow-men died, they have at least found something
which. made them ready to
"leave all things under the sky,
And go forth naked under sun and rain,
And work and wait and watch out all their years."
It is not a small or easy thing to endure what these have endured, and
surely what they deemed worth life itself is worth trying to understand. 1
say nothing of the mighty influence which, as I believe, the
Bábí faith will exert in the future, nor of the new life it
may perchance breathe into a dead people; for, whether it succeed or fail,
the splendid heroism of the Bábí martyrs is a thing
eternal and indestructible.
He whose soul by love is quickened never can to death be hurled
Written is their life immortal in the records of the world."
But what I cannot hope to have conveyed to you is the terrible
earnestness of these men, and the indescribable influence which this
earnestness, combined with other qualities, exerts on any one who has
actually been brought in contact with them. That you must take my word
for, or else
Chú dar rah bi-biní buridí sarí,
Ki ghaltán shavad sú-yi-meydán-i-
má,
Azú purs, azú purs asrár-i-má,
Kazú bishnaví sirr-i-panhán-i-má."
"When thou seest in the path a severed head
Which is rolling towards our field,
Ask of it, ask of it our secrets,
For from it thou may'st hear our hidden mystery."
From the Díván of Shams-i-
Tabríz.
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──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Babism
E. G. Browne
published in Religious Systems of the World: A Contribution to the Study of Comparative Religion pp. 333-353
London: Swann Sonnenschein, 1890/1901
1. Text (see PDF below)
p. 333
The religious system which we are about to consider is
deserving of an attentive examination for several reasons. It is no mere
local superstition confined to a few families or tribes; neither is it a
national religion, whereof the origin is lost in the mists of antiquity; nor yet
is it a scheme of philosophy born in the sanctum of the student, and
moving in a sphere of abstract thought far remote from the active world.
Seventy years ago [1820] its founder
was an infant only a few months old; fifty years ago [1840] his summons was yet unspoken and his doctrine yet
unformed; forty years ago [1850] he
terminated a prophet's life with a martyrs death, leaving behind him as his
legacy to mankind a faith which now numbers its adherents not by
hundreds but by thousands, which reckons its martyrs not by scores but
by hundreds, and which, whatever its actual destiny may be, is of that
stuff whereof world-religions are made. And to this rank does it lay claim,
demanding nothing less than universal acceptance and undisputed sway,
not only in Persia, where it was first preached and where it underwent
that baptism of blood which was the terror and wonder even of those
who proscribed and persecuted it, but throughout the whole world. A
mighty claim indeed, but a claim which, if devotion even unto death and
fervour which neither fire nor sword can quell go for aught, has at least
established its right to be heard.
Before proceeding further in the examination of the history and
doctrine of this new world-religion, it is necessary to glance briefly at the
spiritual condition of the country which gave it birth. Persia, it is almost
needless to state is a Muhammadan country. Other religions are, indeed,
represented: there are a good many native Christians, either Armenians
or Syrians; there are a considerable number of Jews; and there are a
remnant who still, after the lapse of twelve centuries, hold firm to the
fallen faith of Zoroaster. Relatively to the sum-total of the population,
however, these are a mere handful, and the nation as such is a
Muhammadan nation. But the Muhammadanism of Persia is a very
different thing from that which prevails elsewhere. The Roman Catholic
differs less from the Protestant than does the Persian Shí'ite
from the Turkish or Egyptian Sunní. It is neither necessary nor
possible to consider here in detail all these differences; one feature only
of Shí'ite belief - the doctrine of the Imámate - demands
notice. To the Sunní, the caliph, or visible head of the
Muhammadan Church, is nothing more than a defender of the faith,
elected by the suffrage of the majority for the safe-guarding of the
temporal and spiritual interests of
p. 334
Islám. His appointment is human rather than divine, and his
function is that of an administrator of the laws rather than that of a
prophet or inspired teacher. Not so does the Shi'ite regard the
Imáms, whom he recognises as the sole successors of the
prophet. The Imám is divinely called to his lofty office; with his
selection and appointment the choice of men has nothing to do; he is
endowed with supernatural powers and virtues; his decision is in all things
absolutely authoritative; and, in a word, he is an open channel of grace
between God and mankind. Abú Bekr, 'Umar and
'Othmán, the first three caliphs of the Sunnís, are in the
eyes of the Shi'ites detestable usurpers, who snatched from 'Ali, the
lawful Imám, a power to which they had no right and a position
which they were not qualified to hold. They, and the Ommayad and
'Abbásid caliphs, who persecuted and slew the lawful
Imáms of the family of 'Ali whom they had first despoiled and
disputed, are solemnly cursed bye every true Shi'ite. The Imáms
of the race of 'Ali are, on the other hand, loved, revered, almost adored;
they are given a rank hardly inferior to that of the prophet himself, nay,
hardly short of divinity; and the well-being of mankind is made dependent
on their existence.
These Imáms were twelve in number. The eleventh,
Hasan 'Askarí, died in the year A.D. 874, and was succeeded by
his son, who is generally known as the "Imám Mahdí,"
"the Proof," or "the Absent Imám." This Imám
Mahdí was from the first involved in mystery, and communicated
with his followers only indirectly through certain chosen and trusty
representatives, who were called "Gates" or "Doors" (Abwáb,
pl. of Báb). Of these "Gates" or
"Bábs" there were four successively. When the last of
them died, no one was appointed to succeed him, and then began that
period of the "Greater Occultation," in which, as the Shi'ites believe, we
now are. But the Imám Mahdí though no longer
accessible to his Church did not die. He disappeared from the eyes of
men in the year A.H. 329 (A.D. 940-941), but he still lives, hidden in the
mysterious city of Jábulká, whence, in the fullness of
time, when faith waxes weakest and the world is full of woe and
oppression, he will issue forth to restore the true religion, fill the earth
with justice, and inaugurate the millennium. For this long-expected day do
all Shi'ites wait and watch eagerly and anxiously, and ever when they
mention the sacred name of the Imám they add thereto the
prayer, "May God hasten his glad advent!"
It is in the year A.H. 1260 (A.D. 1844), exactly one thousand
years after the Imám Mahdí's first retirement into
seclusion, or "Lesser Occultation," that the history of the religion which
we are about to consider properly begins. Before we proceed to speak of
this, however, let us glance briefly at the meagre details which have
reached us of the early life of its founder. Mirzá 'Alí
Muhammad, afterwards known as the Báb or "Gate"
(from which title his followers derive the name of
Bábí which they bear), was born at
Shíraz in southern Persia on October 9th, A.D. 1820. His father,
Mírzá Rizá, was by trade a cloth seller; but,
though in comparatively humble
p. 335
circumstances, he enjoyed that respect which is almost invariably
accorded in Persia to a seyyid, or reputed descendent of the
prophet. Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad was in the
ordinary course of things sent to school, but he seems not to have
remained there long. His removal thence may have been occasioned by
the cruelty of his teacher, at whose hands he seems to have suffered
much. He never forgot the unhappiness of his childhood, and when in
later days he was framing the ordinances of his religion, he insisted most
strenuously on the duty of treating children with the utmost tenderness
and consideration, enacting heavy fines against such as should cruelly
beat or ill-use them. "The object of these commands," he says, "is that
men may not bring sorrow on that Spirit from the ocean of whose bounty
they enjoy existence; for the teacher knoweth not Him who is his own
and all men's teacher."
On his removal from school Mírzá 'Alí
Muhammad was for a while engaged in helping his father
Mírzá Rizá in his business. He was still but a
boy, however, when his father died. and thenceforth he was taken under
the care of his maternal uncle, Háji Seyyid 'Alí. After a
while, but at what precise date we cannot say, he left
Shíráz and took up abode at Bushire on the Persian Gulf,
where he still carried on the trade for which he was destined. So far
there was nothing specially noticeable in him save a gravity unusual at his
years, a remarkable purity of life, a somewhat dreamy temperament, an a
sweetness of manner which attracted all with whom he came in contact.
At the age of twenty-two he married, and by this marriage he had one
son named Ahmad, who died in infancy.
About this time, there dwelt and taught at Kerbelá, a spot
most hallowed in the eyes of every Persian Shi'ite by reason of the
martyrdom of Huseyn, the third Imám, which there took place, a
certain Hájí Seyyid Kázim of Resht, the disciple
and successor of Sheykh Ahmad of Ahsá, who had founded a
new school or sect called after him Sheykhís. Of the
Sheykhís' doctrine the most notable feature was the extreme
veneration - remarkable even amongst the Shi'ites - in which they held
the Imáms, and the eagerness wherewith they awaited the
advent of the Twelfth Imám or Imám Mahdí.
One day the circle of those who sat at the feet of Seyyid Kázim
was augmented by a fresh arrival. The new comer, who took his seat
modestly by the door in the lowest place, was none other than
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad, who, impelled by a pious
desire to visit the Holy Shrines, had left his business at Bushire to come to
Kerbelá. During the next few months the face of the young
Shírází became familiar to all the disciples of
Seyyid Kázim, and the teacher himself did not fail to notice and
appreciate the earnest but modest demeanour of the youthful stranger.
Then all of a sudden Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad
departed as unexpectedly as he had come, and once more returned to
Shíráz, his native city. Not long after this Seyyid
Kázim died without nominating any successor. To some of his
disciples whom he had seem weeping over his approaching death he had
said, "Do you not then desire that I should go, so that the
p. 336
Truth may become manifest?" How this Truth should be revealed
was a matter whereat he had but darkly hinted, and so it was that his
disciples, distressed and doubtful, met together after his death to fast and
pray. Then they dispersed, each in his own way, to seek what they
desired and await what they expected.
Amongst these disciples was one, Mullá Huseyn by name, of
Bushraweyh in Khurásán, who had enjoyed a special
intimacy with the departed teacher, and who had been regarded by many
as likely to succeed him. On the dispersal of the Sheykhís to
which I have just alluded, this Mullá Huseyn went to
Shíráz, and on his arrival there he remembered that
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad, his former fellow-
student, dwelt in this city. Anxious to renew his acquaintance with one
whose amiable disposition had exercised over him a singular charm, he
inquired after and soon discovered the man in person, and when the first
greetings were over the two fell to talking of Seyyid Kázim and
his recent death. At first it was Mullá Huseyn who spoke,
detailing the events of Seyyid Kázím's last days, and the
hopes and fears which occupied the minds of his followers. But soon it
was Mullá Huseyn's turn to listen in amazement to a declaration
which Mírzá' Alí Muhammad now for the first
time made, to wit, that he himself was the promised guide and teacher,
the "Truth" foretold by the departed Seyyid, the channel of a new
outpouring of Divine Grace; in a word, the Báb or Gate
whereby men might once again commune with the Imám from
whom for a thousand years they had been separated. The amazement
and incredulity which this declaration first evoked in Mullá
Huseyn's mind was soon changed by further conversation with
Mírzá 'Alí Muhammad (or to give him the title to
which he had now laid claim, the Báb) into a belief whereof the
sincerity was attested by every subsequent action of this first convert to
the new faith.
In spite of the absence of many facilities of communication which we
enjoy in Europe, news travels fast in the East; and no great while had
elapsed since the "manifestation" (which took place on May 23rd, 1844)
ere the Báb was surrounded by a considerable number of eager
disciples. Amongst these were included many of the late Seyyid
Kázím's followers, who, apprised by Mullá
Husayn of what had taken place, hastened with all speed to
Shíráz. The zeal of the little band of believers was great.
In the circles of their own assemblies they read with eagerness and
rapture the Commentary on the Súra of Joseph, the
Ziyárat náma or "Book of Visitation," and the
few other works which the Báb had then composed; while from
time to time each one of them was privileged to listen to the words of the
Master himself as he depicted in vivid language the worldliness and
immorality of the mullás, or Muhammadan clergy, and the
injustice and rapacity of the civil authorities, or spoke with a conviction
which compelled belief of the era of justice and happiness now at hand
and the certain triumph of the new truth which he was commissioned to
p. 337
proclaim. Already the Báb's fame was in every one's mouth
and the Bábís were beginning to attract general attention
(an attention which, in the case of the government authorities and the
clergy, was largely mixed with suspicion and dislike), when the young
prophet once more left Shíráz secretly, accompanied only
by one intimate disciple, and set out to perform the pilgrimage to
Mecca.
When the Báb returned from Mecca and again landed at
Bushire, in August 1845, the complexion of affairs was considerably
altered. On the one hand, his ideas had doubtless become more clearly
defined; on the other hand, the government and the clergy had decided
that this new movement was altogether dangerous to them and must at
once be checked as sharply as possible. Accordingly, when some of the
Báb's disciples, who had preceded him to Shíráz,
entered the city, they were seized by the governor Husayn Khán,
bastinadoed, and forbidden to preach. to ensure the effectiveness of this
prohibition, one or two of them were hamstrung, so that they should be
unable to quit their houses. Horsemen were also despatched to Bushire to
arrest the Báb, who was brought in to Shíráz in
the latter part of September, 1845. He was examined before the governor
by some of the chief clergy, who declared him to be a heretic, and
ordered that he should be punished with the bastinado and then confined
in the house of 'Abdu'l-Hamíd Khán, the dár
úghá, or chief constable. In spite of these measures,
however, the new faith continued to spread rapidly, for many of the
Báb's disciples were scattered throughout all parts of Persia
engaged in teaching his doctrine, while those who remained in
Shíráz did not fail to find means of approaching him even
in his confinement. The chief constable, indeed, seems to have submitted
to the charm of his prisoner's gentle and amiable manner, and, according
to one of the Bábí historians, he was actually brought to
believe in the divine mission of the captive, to whose prayers he
considered himself indebted for the recovery of his son from a mortal
sickness. At all events, when, in the spring of 1846, Manúchihr
Khán, the governor of Isfahán, anxious to see one of
whom he had heard so much, sent messengers to Shíráz
to discover whether he could by any means deliver the Báb from
his captivity and bring him to Isfahán, the chief constable
connived at, if he did not actually assist, the escape of his prisoner, who at
once set out in company with two of his disciples for the latter city, where
he arrived about May, 1846.
For nearly a year the Báb remained at Isfahán, and
during this period he enjoyed the last days of comparative peace and
security allotted to him. He was under the protection of the most
powerful nobles of the time, who was both able and willing to protect him
from the malice of his enemies, amongst whom the clergy were most
malignant. But early in 1847 his protector died, and Gurgín
Khán, who succeeded to the government of Isfahán, not
sharing the feelings of his predecessor, at once sent the Báb off
under an armed escort to Teherán, that the then-reigning King
Muhammad Sháh and his ill advised minister Hájí
Mírzá Ákásí might deal
p. 338
with the reformer as they pleased. The King would seem to have
desired to see the Báb; but the minister, fearful lest his sovereign
should yield to the potent influence of the young prophet, vigorously
combated this proposal, pointing out the impudence of allowing one whose
doctrines had already made such progress amongst all classes to enter
the capital and be seen by its inhabitants. The minister's advice finally
prevailed, and orders were issued for the transference of the Báb
to the remote frontier-fortress of Mákú, whereof the
governor, 'Alí Khán, was a creature of the minister,
wholly devoted to his interests. Thither accordingly was the Báb
conveyed, but such was the sympathy of the people with him and their
anxiety to behold him, that it was found necessary to avoid as much as
possible all towns and large villages, and even amongst the escort
appointed to guard him several conversations took place.
Soon after his arrival at Mákú, the Báb was
summoned to Tabríz and again examined concerning his doctrine
by a number of the chief clergy, presided over by the present Shah of
Persia, then Crown-Prince. Concerning what passed there we have only
the Muhammadan accounts; but even from these, partial and one-sided as
they are, we can clearly perceive that, so far from there being any
attempt at serious investigation, the proceedings were characterized
throughout by the most shameful levity and unfairness. "If you are the
'Gate of Knowledge.'" they said to him, "you must of course be able to
answer any questions we choose to ask you"; and thereupon they fell to
interrogating him about the technicalities of medicine, grammar,
philosophy, login and the like. To these senseless and insolent questions,
the Báb, perceiving that he had been brought thither, not to be
judged but to be mocked, returned no answer; and his persecutors,
wearying of their sport, ordered him to be beaten and sent back to his
prison at Mákú. significant of the sympathy towards him
which animated the common people, is the fact that the priests could find
no one willing to execute their mandate, and were finally compelled to
inflict the punishment themselves.
So far from suffering himself to be discouraged by this harsh
treatment, the Báb continued to write down and codify his
doctrines and ordinances with unabated diligence. Two brothers, Siyyid
Huseyn and Siyyid Hasan, of Yezd, shared his captivity. The former of
these was continually occupied in transcribing and arranging his master's
words; and, in spite of the strict injunctions of the Prime Minister, means
were found to convey these precious writings into the hands of the
faithful. The Báb's doctrines, too, underwent considerable
development. He declared that he was not merely the "Gate"
leading to the Imám Mahdi, but the Imám himself; that he
was indeed the "Point" or Primal Truth once more revealed in
man, and that what in previous revelations had been set forth darkly and
in riddles he now proclaimed openly and without reserve. At the same
time he claimed no finality for his revelation, declaring that after him one
yet greater (whom he named "He whom God shall manifest")
p. 339
should appear for the perfecting of that which he had begun. In the
books composed by the Báb at this time it is curious to perceive
that his chief anxiety was not for his own fate, but for the reception
which should be accorded by his followers to "Him whom God shall
manifest." Again and again, almost in every page, he entreats these
not to behave in the next manifestation as the Muhammadans have
behaved in this, and to remember that no revelation is final, but only
represents the measure of truth which the state of human progress has
rendered mankind capable of receiving. For about six months the
Báb remained at Mákú, and then the
Government, perceiving that his disciples still succeeded in ganing access
to him, transferred him to the closer imprisonment of Chihrík.
Here is was only by means of letters concealed in walnuts, or sewn up in
waterproof and sunk in milk, and the like, that correspondence between
the Báb and his followers was any longer possible.
We must now leave the Báb for a while, and turn our
attention tot he efforts of his disciples to spread the new faith, and the
tragic events wherein these efforts culminated. Mullá Huseyn,
whom I have already mentioned as the first to believe, was conspicuous,
even amongst the devoted missionaries who went forth into every quarter
of Persia, for his fiery energy and indomitable spirit. Night and day, now
on Ispahán, now in Káshán, now in
Teherán, now in Mash-had, was he occupied in persuading
inquirers, confirming waverers, and encouraging the faithful. Weariness
and despair were alike unknown to the ardent spirit which animated that
fragile-looking frame. Expelled from Teherán, he went to Mash-
had; arrested there by Hamzé Mírzá, one of the
uncles of the present Sháh, he nevertheless succeeded in
effecting his escape, and, in company with a small but ever-increasing
band of followers, again set out westwards, intending, as it would appear,
to proceed to Mákú and attempt to liberate the
Báb. Now at length the enmity between the Muhammadans and
the Bábís threatened to break out in open warfare, and at
the village of Sháhrúd a serious collision seemed
inevitable, when suddenly a messenger arrived announcing that
Muhammad Sháh had breathed his last. This was in September,
1848.
When a king dies in Persia, a period of anarchy and lawlessness
ensues, to which European countries are fortunately strangers. The local
authorities, uncertain of the continued tenure of their offices, hasten to the
capital to make favour with the new government, or else employ the days
of disorder for their own ends. The mechanism of the State is for the
time being unhinged and thrown out of gear, laws are practically
suspended, plunder and rapine are rife, and life and property are
imperilled. Such was the state of things which Mullá Huseyn was
called upon to confront. It demanded all his judgement and all his
energies; for if on the one hand there was a hope that the new
government might prove more favourably disposed towards the
Báb than its predecessor had been, there was on the other hand
great immediate danger to be apprehended from the
p. 340
unrestrained lawlessness of the ill-disposed, from which almost ever
check had for the present been removed. Mullá Huseyn
accordingly pushed on rapidly to the village of Badasht, situated near the
borders of the province of Mázandarán, and there
effected a junction with another band of his co-religionists under the
leadership of Mullá Muhammad `Alí of
Bárfurúsh. Amongst these was one person so
remarkable as to merit at least a passing notice.
Rarely indeed does it happen in a Muhammadan country that a
woman attains distinction and fame. Yet if ever a woman deserved not
fame only but immortality, that woman was Zarrín-
Táj the daughter of Hájí Mullá
Muhammad Sálih of Kazvín, better known by the name
of Kurralu'l-`Ayn ("Freshness" or
"Delight" of the Eyes"), which the
Bábís bestowed on her. Endowed with rare beauty and
yet rarer intellectual gifts, she was well versed in Arabic, the
Kur'án, the traditions, and philosophy, besides which she was in
her own language eloquent beyond measure, and a poetess of no mean
order. Indescribably galling to such a woman must have been the
condition of dependence and intellectual stagnation in which her sex are
doomed by the ordinances of Islám to dwell; and it was probably
on learning that the Báb sought amongst other social reforms to
raise women to the rank of equality with men that she became first
attracted towards his teaching. Once persuaded of its truth, she
embraced the new doctrine with all the vehemence of an enthusiastic
nature; and began, in spite of the violent opposition of here relatives
(almost all of whom belonged to the clerical or priestly class), to profess
and preach the Bábí faith. Compelled finally by
circumstances which it would take too long to detail to fly from her native
town of Kazvín, she now appears amongst the
Bábís in council in Badasht.
It was decided that to this beautiful, courageous, and eloquent woman
should be committed the task of encouraging the faithful and confirming
the lukewarm by an address delivered from a rude pulpit, hastily
constructed of stones and logs heaped together. Every other sound was
hushed and every ear was strained as that clear sweet voice began to
speak of the new dispensation inaugurated upon earth, of the reign of
universal justice and love which was at hand, of the approaching downfall
of tyranny, bigotry, and oppression. As she proceeded, exhorting them not
to stand back at this most critical moment, not to allow a craven fear to
keep them aloof from the glorious enterprise, not to fail in the coming
struggle for faith and freedom, the silence was broken by sobs of
heartfelt emotion and cries of "Ey Ján!"
("O my life!"), "Ey Táhira!"
("O pure one!"), "Kurbánat
gardam!" ("May I be thy sacrifice!"), and the like.
The most listless and apathetic were roused; the wavering became
assured, strong men wept. No hesitation or half-heartedness now; all
were resolved to stand firm even to the death, and their later deeds bore
abundant testimony to the unshakeable firmness of their purpose. And
now let Kurratu'l-`Ayn, having wrought her great work, depart for a
while to
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wander in the highlands of Núr, and to be betrayed into the
hands of her ruthless foes. We shall meet her once again on that terrible
day in 1852 when the storm of fire and steel and tortures not to be
described or imagined broke impotent against a courage and steadfast
endurance which has made the very name of Bábí a
word which no Persian can utter without a certain involuntary awe and
admiration.
It would take far more time than we have at our disposal to follow in
detail the occurrences of those eventful days. Let us therefore pass on
quickly to the ultimate fate of Mullá Huseyn and his companions.
Eight months or so have elapsed since the events above recorded, and it
is now the summer of 1849. You must try to picture yourselves a flat
fenny country covered with tall reeds and grasses or occasional swampy
rice-fields, and sparingly traversed by narrow, muddy paths. To the north,
dim and grey, lies the Caspian Sea. To the south, fen passes gradually
into forest, which slopes upwards towards the vast black wall formed by
the Elburz mountains. Just where the fens end and the forest begins,
isolated amidst swamps and thickets, stands the tomb of Sheykh
Tarbarsí, a holy man of bygone days. The little building which
marks the site of the tomb stands in the midst of a grassy sward about
100 yards long and 70 yards wide. This enclosure contains a few wild
pomegranate trees, and is surrounded by rude earthworks and palisades.
These, as well as the buildings of the shrine, are riddled with shot and
stained with gore, while the grassy sward is marked with many a freshly-
made grave. The forms of men emaciated to skeletons with drawn faces
and sunken eyes (wherein nevertheless still glows the light of an
enthusiasm which neither privation nor suffering can quench) pass
occasionally across the enclosure. These are the remnants of the
Bábís whom we last saw at Badasht hanging on the
words of Kurratu'l-`Ayn, and this is their last retreat. Here for eight
weary months have they held at bay the royal army, and, by dint of
courage and skill incredible in men trained for the most part to peaceful
avocations, again and again inflicted on it defeats and losses which had
caused even the less sanguine amongst the besieged to hope for ultimate
victory. But now at length the end has come. Their brave leader,
Mullá Huseyn, is dead, killed in the very moment of an heroic
exploit by a stray bullet fired from some hidden ambush. Their provisions
are all used up. A few days previously a desperate but unsuccessful
attempt had been made to cut through the ever-tightening cordon of
troops. To give them strength for this final effort, they had been
compelled to exhume the bones of the horse which had carried their
gallant leader through his last fray, and from these to make a sort of broth
which might at least serve to keep body and soul together. Absolute
starvation now stares them in the face and further resistance appears
impossible. Yet, in spite of their miserable plight, so great is the dread
with which their valour has inspired the royal troops, that even at this
eleventh hour a message has come from the royalist officers promising
them life and liberty if they will yield up their fortress.
p. 342
To deliberate on this proposal the Bábí leaders are
now assembled together in the mausoleum of the departed Sheykh. At
length it is decided to accept the terms offered and evacuate the fortress.
A written promise signed by the royalist leaders and confirmed by oaths
sworn on the Kur'án lulls all suspicion of treachery; and now at
length in slow procession the survivors of the Bábí
garrison emerge from their stronghold, and pass through the wondering
ranks of the besiegers to the place allotted to them.
At first all seems fair enough. Food is set before the starving
Bábí's, and their leaders are invited to take their
breakfast with Prince Mahdí-Kulf Mírzá and 'Abbás-Kulí
Khán, of Láriján, the royalist generals. As the
meal proceeds, the latter artfully turn the conversation on to religious
topics. The unsuspecting Bábís speak freely and boldly of
that which is nearest their hearts. The prince listens attentively, smiling
now and then a false and cruel smile as he marks the success of his
stratagem. Suddenly he springs to his feet, claps his hands, and cries out
that his guests have uttered blasphemy, in that they make the Báb
not only equal to but greater than Muhammad. Promises plighted to
infidels are not binding, and shall not avert the vengeance of outraged
orthodoxy. The soldiers rush in and seize the unarmed and helpless
Bábí chiefs. Another party of soldiers fall suddenly upon
the other Bábís, who, in the quarters assigned to them,
have scarce as yet stretched out their hands to taste the first good food
they have seen for many weeks. The captives are dragged before the
royalist generals, and, at their command, cast down on the ground and cut
open with knives. Five or six of the chief Bábís only are
reserved from the massacre to grace the prince's triumphal entry into
Bárfurúsh; and, bearing with them these and the heads of
the slain set on spears, the victorious army sets out with beating drums
and blowing trumpets for the town. On their way thither they are met by
deputations of the Mullás, who congratulate them on their
prowess and clamour loudly for the blood of the few remaining prisoners.
The royalist generals had entertained the idea of carrying these with them
to Teherán, that they might show to the young Sháh
those who had dared for so long to withstand his armies. The
Mullás, however, are importunate; the point is yielded;
and Hájí Mullá Muhammad 'All and his four or
five surviving comrades are handed over to their inveterate foes, who
tear them limb from limb in the market-place of
Bárfurúsh. They meet death unflinchingly, as brave men
should, and night settles down over the blood-stained and mangled
remains of the last survivors of Sheykh Tabarsí.
The temporary lull which followed the suppression of the
Mázandarán insurrection was soon broken by a similar
struggle at Zanján in the north-west of Persia. Into the details of
this struggle it is impossible to enter here. The scene is changed from
fens and forests to the narrow, tortuous, mud-walled streets of a Persian
town, lying, amidst pleasant poplar-gardens, which mark the course of a
little river, in the stony, sun-baked table-land
p. 343
of central Persia. But though the scene is changed, the incidents of
the struggle are otherwise much the same. There is the same desperate
and indomitable courage on the part of the Bábís; the
same carelessness, cowardice, and mismanagement on the part of the
besiegers. The Bábí women cut off their long hair to bind
round the crazy guns which have begun to gape and crack under the
constant firing, and are continually on the ramparts encouraging their
husbands and brothers in the attempt to avert the inevitable doom. But
soon, as at Sheykh Tabarsí, the attack by storm is succeeded by
the blockade, and the horrors of famine stare the besieged in the face.
Then come the same treacherous promises, resulting in a surrender
followed, as before, by a perfidious massacre of the too confiding
Bábís.
This summer Of 1850 was marked by other events not less fateful.
While the siege of Zanján was still in progress, another
Bábí rising took place at Níríz far away
in the south of Persia. The Government, thoroughly alarmed, determined
on a measure which, as it believed, could not fail to deal a death-blow to
the Bábí movement. The Báb, who had now
been subjected for more than three years to a rigorous imprisonment,
could not, indeed, be considered as directly responsible for the attitude of
armed resistance assumed by his followers; nevertheless the
Government, regarding him as the fountain-head of those doctrines which
had convulsed the whole Persian empire, determined that he should die.
With his death, as they imagined, the whole movement must collapse.
Had they been better acquainted with the Báb's doctrine, they
might have hesitated before taking a step which could have no 'Certain
result' save that of exasperating his followers beyond all measure. For, as
a matter of fact, the Báb had striven to render his religion as far
as possible independent of his personality in two ways. First of all, as we
have already seen, he had declared that it was in no sense final, and had
foretold the coining of "Him whom God shall manifest" to complete and
perfect the religion which he had founded. Secondly, he had not centred
the spiritual authority even during his lifetime in himself alone, but
in what he called the "Unity" — a sort of hierarchy consisting of
himself," the Point," and eighteen other persons called "Letters of the
Living." Why the number nineteen was chosen as the sacred
number and employed as such, not only here, but in all the relations of life,
it would take too long to explain. Suffice it to say that certain curious
facts connected with the numerical values of the letters composing
certain words indicating Divine attributes seemed to the Báb to
point it out as a number essentially sacred, mysterious, and worthy of
being made the basis whereon all things should be arranged. Now this "
Unity " was in its very nature permanent; for, when any one of the
" Letters " composing it died, the grace and virtue inherent in him
passed to some other Bábí, who thereupon became
incorporated in the "Unity," which in this way remained constant.
After the "Point", (i.e. the Báb) the two chief "Letters"
of the "Unity" had been Mullá
p. 344
Huseyn and Mullá Muhammad 'Alí. Both of these
having been killed at Sheykh Tabarsí, a youth named
Mírzá Yahyá, and entitled by the
Bábís "Subh-i-Ezel" ("the Morning of
Eternity"), now occupied the highest rank in the Unity after the
Báb himself. Of this, however, as of all else appertaining to the
Bábí doctrine, the Musulmáns were quite
ignorant, and they confidently expected that the new faith would expire
with its founder, on whose destruction they were now bent.
The Báb, therefore, was haled from Chihrík to
Tabriz, and once more arraigned before judges whose sentence was a
foregone conclusion. The trial which he now underwent was nothing but
a protracted series of insults and indignities. One result, however, his
tormentors were anxious to attain, and that was to induce the
Báb formally to renounce the doctrine which he had taught. This,
however, they were unable to accomplish. In reply to all their threats and
promises, he continued to assert that in him was fulfilled what they
understood by the coming of the Imám Mahdí. They
scoffed at his pretensions, and told him that the Imám they
expected was that same Imám who had disappeared more than
twelve centuries ago in Surra-man-ra'a, and that when he came he would
come as a mighty conqueror to slay and subdue the infidels, and establish
the faith of Islám throughout the world. "Through just such vain
superstitions," he replied, "did all former peoples reject and slay the
prophets sent unto them. Did not the Jews profess to be expecting their
promised Messiah when Jesus the Son of Mary appeared in their midst?
And did not they reject and slay Him who was indeed their Messiah,
because they falsely imagined that the Messiah must come as a great
Conqueror and King to re-establish the faith of Moses, and give it
currency throughout the world? Now the Muhammadans were acting as
the Jews had acted, because, like them, they clung to their own vain
superstitions, refusing to see that the kingdom and the victory spoken of
were spiritual and not material."
The fatal sentence was pronounced by the civil and ratified by the
religious authorities, and Mírzá `Alí Muhammad
was led back to prison. His last night on earth was not spent in solitude.
With him were Aká Seyyid Huseyn, of Yezd, his amanuensis,
and a young merchant of Tabríz, named Aká Muhammad
'Alí, who was his devoted disciple. The latter belonged to a good
family, by whom every effort was made to induce him to save his life by
renouncing his master. The following letter, written by him the very night
before his martyrdom, contains his reply to a last appeal of this nature
addressed to him by his elder brother:
"My condition, thanks be to God, hath naught of ill, and 'to
every trouble succeedeth rest." You wrote that this matter hath no end.
What matter, then, hath any end? We, at least, have no discontent therein,
and, indeed, cannot fitly express our thankfulness. The end of this matter
is, to be slain in God's cause and what happiness is this! The will of God
will be accomplished on is servants, nor can any human being avert the
Divine decree. What God wills comes to pass, and there is no
p. 345
power and no strength save in God. 0 brother, the end of the world is
death; `every soul tasteth of death.' Should the appointed fate which God
(mighty and glorious is He !) hath decreed overtake me, then God is the
Guardian of my family, and thou art mine executor. Behave in whatever
way is agreeable to God's good pleasure, and pardon whatever has been
wrought by me which seemeth lacking in courtesy, or contrary to the
demands of that respect due to you from your younger brother, and ask
pardon for me from all my family, and commit me to God. God is my
portion, and how good is He as a Guardian!"
Little by little the night ebbed away, and the sky grew bright with the
dawn of July 9th, 1850. Ere the prisoners were led out, all Tabríz
was astir, and when at length they were brought forth by their
executioners, every street and lane through which they were to
pass teemed with crowds of expectant onlookers. Of these, some were
attracted by sympathy, or a hope that even now some opportunity for
effecting a rescue might arise; others, drawn merely by curiosity to
behold one so famous, were moved to pity by the pale gentle face, white
delicate hands, and simple but spotless raiment of the sufferer ; but the
brutal rabble, urged on by the malignant and implacable clergy, cast
stones and mud at the helpless captives, and gave vent to shouts of joy
whenever a missile took effect. For several hours were the prisoners
dragged thus through the endless streets and bazaars of Tabríz,
until at length Seyyid Huseyn, his powers of endurance utterly exhausted,
fell to the ground fainting with fatigue and pain. He was dragged to his
feet and told that he might yet save his life and gain his freedom if he
would renounce and repudiate his Master. And thereupon Seyyid Huseyn,
whether impelled by a momentary fear which his exhausted strength
could not combat (as asserted by the Muhammadans), or acting on
instructions from the Báb, whereof the object was to preserve
and convey to the faithful the last writings and injunctions of their prophet
(as stated by the Bábís), did that which he was bidden to
do, and as the price thereof received his freedom. No sooner had the
crowd passed on than he gathered himself together, and at once set out
for Teherán. On his arrival there he at once made his way to his
co-religionists, who, whether convinced that he had acted under his
master's orders, or moved by his sincere and evident contrition, received
him back into their midst. That he was not unworthy of their confidence,
he found the opportunity to prove when two years later the cup of
martyrdom was for the second time presented to him.
Encouraged by the recantation of Seyyid Huseyn, the
executioners made another attempt to induce Aká Muhammad
'Alí to follow his example. His wife and little children were
brought before him in the hope that their tears and entreaties might
conquer his resolution. Even against this most cruel trial he was proof,
and only asked that he might be killed before his master. The soldiers,
finding all efforts to move him fruitless, and being wearied to boot, led the
two prisoners to the great square by the citadel
p. 346
(called, by a strange coincidence, the " Square of the Lord of the
age") and there suspended them with ropes from staples set in one of the
walls. As the firing-party took up its position Aká Muhammad
'Alí was heard to say to the Báb, "Master, art thou
content with me?" To this the Báb replied in Arabic, "Verily Muhammad 'Alí is with us in paradise!" Hardly had the
words left his lips when the crash of musketry rang out, and for a
moment the rolling cloud of smoke hid the bodies of the victims. As it
lifted a great cry of wonder and awe rose from the spectators. The
lifeless body of the disciple, indeed, riddled with bullets, swung to and fro
in the air, but of the Báb no trace nor sign was visible. A murmur
arose that this was a miracle, and the authorities perceived with terror
that the fickle populace was ready to veer round and declare for one
whom but an hour ago they had jeered and pelted. Had it been so, it might
well have been that then and there the faith of the Báb would
have won a definitive victory over the religion of Muhammad; and for an
instant the fate of the Kájár dynasty and the faith of
Islám hung trembling in the balance. But not so was it ordained.
Ere the crowd had recovered from their first amaze, a soldier perceived
the Báb (whose bonds by some strange chance had been cut by
the bullets which passed harmlessly by his body) taking shelter in an
adjacent guard-house, followed him thither, and made a cut at him with
his sword. When the others saw the red blood flow from their unresisting
victim, their fear was gone, and they hastened to complete their work of
death. The two bodies were dragged through the streets and cast out of
the gate to feed the dogs and jackals; but by night came
Suleymán Khán, and one or two others, with gold in one
hand and a sword in the other, offering the choice between these to the
guards appointed to prevent the burial of the bodies. The guards took the
gold and surrendered the bodies, which were wrapped in fine silk, placed
in one coffin, and conveyed secretly to Teherán, to be there
bestowed in a place of safety. So ended the short and sorrowful but noble
career of Mirzá 'Alí Muhammad the Báb. When
we reflect on all that he suffered during the six years of his mission, we
can well believe that, as he says in the Beyán, "the days of his
gladness were the days preceding his manifestation."
The tragedies of this fatal year were not yet ended. On the very day
of the Báb's martyrdom the Níríz insurrection,
and a few weeks later the Zanján siege, were quenched in
streams of blood. Between these two events took place at
Teherán the martyrdom of seven Bábís, accused
without shadow of proof of harbouring designs against the Prime
Minister, Mirzá Takí Khán. Amongst all classes,
as we learn from the diary, of an English lady whose husband at that time
occupied a responsible position in the British Embassy, their faith aroused
general commiseration, and amongst their fellow-believers they received
the title of the "Seven Martyrs."
p. 347
Amongst them was the Báb's uncle, Hájí
Seyyid 'Alí, to whose care tile Báb had been committed
on the death of his father. It is worth remarking that in this case the
prophet was not without honour in his own country, for amongst his
immediate relatives the Báb found some of his staunchest
supporters, and even at the present day many of the most influential and
devoted Bábís belong to his family. At the last moment,
almost as he knelt beneath the knife of the headsman,
Hájí Seyyid 'Alí received an offer of pardon if he
would consent to renounce his faith. This offer he unhesitatingly rejected,
concluding his words with this quotation:
"0 Zephyr, say from me to Ishmael destined for sacrifice, 'It is
not a condition of love to return alive from the street of the Friend.'
Every one of the seven met death with like firmness. Amongst them
was an old dervish, named Kurbán 'Alí, who also refused
to save his life by recantation. The first blow struck at him by the
headsman only wounded his neck slightly and cast his turban to the
ground, whereupon he cried out as he stood awaiting the second :
"0 happy that intoxicated lover, who at the feet of the Friend
Knows not whether it be head or turban which he casts ! "
A year elapsed after this, unmarked by any very noteworthy event,
so far as the Bábís are concerned. Persecution went on
steadily in all parts of the country; but the general attention was
somewhat diverted from the Bábís by the sudden
disgrace and fall of Mírzá Takí Khán,
the minister by whose advice the Báb had been put to death.
>From disgrace to death is for a fallen minister but a short step in Eastern
lands, and even the fact that he was married to the Sháh's sister,
who continually watched over his safety with loving anxiety, could not
save the once powerful noble. He was enticed by a cruel stratagem out
of his wife's sight, she being informed that the Sháh had once
more taken him into favour; and even while she was rejoicing in his
imagined safety his life-blood was flowing slowly from his open veins.
That no drop of bitterness might be lacking from the cup, the executioner,
whose specious promises had for a moment lulled to rest the unwearying
watchfulness of the minister's wife, was one who had been raised to the
Sháh's favour solely by him whose fainting soul now realized the
meed of those who put their trust in princes, and slay the holy ones of
God. So perished Mírzá Takí Khán in the
month of January, 1852; and we can scarcely wonder that the
Bábís see in the fate which overtook him a signal
instance of Divine vengeance.
Six months more elapsed, and then, in August, 1852, an event
happened which brought down upon the Bábís a
persecution fiercer than any which they had yet experienced. A certain
youth named Sádik, of Zanján, whose
p. 348
attachment to the Báb had amounted almost to a passion,
conceived in his mind a plan of taking vengeance on the tyrant who had
slain his beloved master and ruthlessly persecuted all who held the
Bábí faith. This plan he communicated to two of his
fellow-believers, and, early on the morning of August 15th, the three,
armed with pistols charged with shot, stood at the gate of the
Sháh's palace of Niyávarán, awaiting the
moment when the king, surrounded by his nobles, should go forth to the
chase. That moment came at length, and, in the guise of suppliants, the
avengers approached. Two successive pistol shots rang out on the air,
and then, drawing their knives, the three Bábís rushed on
the Sháh and tried to drag him from his horse. Ere they could
effect their object the royal attendants were upon them. Sádik
was stricken dead to the ground, and his two companions were seized
and bound. The Sháh, slightly wounded in the back, had no
sooner recovered from his alarm than he was filled with terrible wrath.
The two surviving Bábís were put to the torture; but,
though they avowed their faith and their object, they refused to disclose
the names of any of their co-religionists, or to divulge their places of
meeting. Their stubborn reticence was, however, unavailing, for a
vigorous search, instituted by the secret police of Teherán,
resulted in the capture of some forty Bábís, of whom a
large number were surprised in the house of Suleymán
Khán, the recoverer of the Bábs body. Five or six of
these, including Behá'u'lláh, who now claims the
allegiance of the great majority of the Bábís, were
spared, but all the rest were doomed to die. Yet such was the fear in
which the new Prime Minister stood of incurring the vengeance of the
sect, that he resolved to make all classes partners in the slaughter of the
prisoners. To this end he distributed these amongst the different
departments of the Government, guilds of tradesmen, and other sections
of the community, at the same time hinting to each that the Sháh
would be able to judge of their loyalty and orthodoxy by the manner in
which they dealt with their victims. The war-office, the secretaries of
State, the merchants, the clergy, the dervishes, the pages in waiting, even
the students of the University-then recently founded on a European
model-each received their allotted prisoner. Terrible were the modes of
inflicting death which some of these, impelled either by savage fanaticism,
fear of suspicion, or mere love of cruelty, devised. Of the unfortunate
Bábís, some were hewn in pieces, some were sawn
asunder, some were flayed with whips, some were blown from the
mouths of mortars. Suleymán Khán was marked out by
his rank, and by the shelter which his house had afforded to the
proscribed sect, for tortures yet more horrible. Lighted wicks were
inserted in gashes inflicted on his limbs and body, and his teeth were
wrenched from his mouth and driven into the crown of his head. Yet
even in his anguish he continued to testify such rapturous joy at the
thought of his pre-eminence in suffering and martyrdom, that his
executioners asked him in bitter mockery why he did not sing. "Sing!" he
cried, "and so I will." And thereupon he began to sing,
p. 349
"In one hand the wine-cup, in the other the locks of the Friend,
Such a dance in the midst of the market-place is my
desire."
Amongst the victims of that terrible day were two with whom we
have already become acquainted. One was Seyyid Huseyn of Yezd, who,
consumed with the anguish of that day when, in appearance at least, he
had renounced his master, met death not only with resignation, but with
uncontrollable eagerness. The other was the beautiful and gifted Kurratu-
1'Ayn, who, though for more than a year she had been in close
confinement, and could not, therefore, have had any part or lot in the
conspiracy against the Sháh, was too notable an adherent of the
new faith to look for immunity. Dr. Polak, an Austrian physician then in
the Sháh's service, actually witn essed her execution, concerning
which he writes: 2 "The beautiful woman endured the lingering
death with superhuman fortitude." Certain lines in some of the poems
attributed to her authorship, and still passionately cherished by the
Bábís, would tempt us to believe that she had long
foreseen the inevitable doom which awaited her. The following translation
of one of the most celebrated of these poems (of which I received a copy
from a Bábí at Yezd in the summer of 1888) will suffice
as an illustration. In it I have attempted to preserve the original metre and
rhyme, and also to adhere strictly to the sense. Let it be borne in mind
that by "the Loved One," "the Darling," and other such terms, the
Báb is throughout intended, just as the Sufís in their
poems address God as the "Friend," and the "Beloved."
"The thralls of yearning love constrain in the bonds of pain and
calamity
These broken-hearted lovers of thine to yield their lives in their zeal for
thee.
Though with sword in hand my Darling stand with intent to slay, though I
sinless be,
If it pleases him, this tyrant's whim, I am well content with his
tyranny.
As in sleep I lay at the break of day that cruel Charmer came to
me,
And in the grace of his form and face the dawn of the morn 1 seemed to
see.
The musk of Cathay might perfume gain from the scent those fragrant
tresses rain,
While his eyes demolish a faith in vain attacked by the pagans of
Tartary.
With you, -who contemn both love and wine for the hermit's cell and the
zealot's shrine,
What can I do ? For our faith divine you hold as a thing of infamy.
The tangled curls of thy darling's hair, and thy saddle and steed are
thine only care,
In thy heart the Infinite bath no share, nor the thought of the poor man's
poverty.
Sikandar's pomp and display be thine, the Kalanda's habit and
way be mine;
That, if it please thee, I resign, while this, though bad, is enough for
me.
The country of `I' and 'We' forsake; thy home in Annihilation make,
Since fearing not this step to take thou shalt gain the highest Felicity."
Thus far I have traced the progress of the Bábí
movement in a fairly continuous manner, although the need of confining
myself within certain limits has compelled me to omit much of which I
would fain have spoken.
p. 350
We have now reached a point where the scene and the characters
are in great measure changed; and indeed it would hardly be too much to
say that we have now entered on a new epoch in the history of the faith.
That I should strive to make clear the beginnings of that faith was
essential, but space does not permit me to do more than sketch in outline
its more recent developments. My desire at present is rather to awaken
your interest and sympathy in an heroic struggle, which I do not hesitate
to call the greatest religious movement of the century, than to
communicate to you the latest results of research.
The centre of the movement, then, is transferred from Persian to
Turkish territory ; to be more precise, Baghdad becomes for the next
eleven years the abode of such of the Bábí leaders as
escaped the terrible devastation of 1852. Thither fled Mirzá
Yahyá Subh-i-Ezel," who, as I have already mentioned,
became, on the death of the Báb, the chief "Letter" of the
"Unity." He was soon followed by his half-brother, Behá'u'lláh (also a member of the Unity), who, having narrowly escaped
death, now found release from the prison into which he had been cast. In
Persia persecution continued with varying severity, and continually was
the Bábí colony at Baghdad recruited by exiles forced to
fly from their own homes. Every effort was made by the Persian
authorities to molest and injure the fugitives, who, as a last resource,
enrolled themselves as Turkish subjects. By this device they at length
obtained some peace and security, for, whatever prejudiced persons may
assert to the contrary, the Turkish Government is on the whole both
tolerant and just, at all events in comparison with Persia. For twelve
years, then, the Bábí leaders dwelt. here, engaged in
writing, codifying, and diffusing their religion, and exhorting their followers
to refrain from all resistance to the authorities and, by virtuous lives,
patient resignation, and kindly dealing with all men, to commend their faith
to the whole world. So far did they succeed that from the year 1852 until
the present time, the Bábís have patiently and
unresistingly submitted to all the persecutions which they have suffered
and still do suffer.
In the year 1864, the Persian Government induced the Turkish
authorities to transfer the Bábí exiles farther from their
frontier-first to Constantinople and then to Adrianople. Now while they
were at Adrianople a great event took place, which had the effect of
dividing the Bábís into two antagonistic parties. Subh-i-
Ezel, as I have explained, had hitherto been generally acknowledged as
the legitimate successor of the Báb, and the visible head of the
Bábí faith. But, as I have also explained, the Báb
had declared that his revelation was not final, and that he would, at some
future time not specified, be succeeded by "Him whom God shall
manifest." It was generally believed that this new manifestation would not
take place for at least a thousand years, ere the lapse of which many
countries should have accepted the religion of the Báb. At the
same time the Báb had laid it down that the time of this promised
deliverer's advent was known only to God, that no one could falsely claim
to be him, that he would appear
p. 351
suddenly and unexpectedly, and that when he appeared the fullest
authority to confirm or annul, to bind or to loose, was his indisputable
prerogative. So, when Behá'u'lláh suddenly declared that
he was their promised deliverer, whose manifestation they so eagerly
expected, and warned all the Bábís not to remain "veiled," as the Muhammadans had done, the greater number at once
acknowledged his authority, received his words as divinely inspired, and
yielded to him an implicit and unqualified submission. So for these
Behá'ís, as they are now called, the writings of the
Báb became an old testament, and the ordinances of the
Beyán an abrogated law. But not all of the Bábís
were content to accept this superseding of a law not yet much more than
twenty years old. Subh-i-Ezel himself declined to acknowledge
Behá'u'lláh's claim, or to abdicate in his favour, and a
minority of the Bábís (now called Ezelís) refused
to withdraw their allegiance from him or acknowledge another chief
Dissensions naturally arose, which culminated in the interference of the
Turkish government and the final separation of the rival heads. Subh-i-
Ezel was sent to Famagusta in Cyprus, and Behá 'u
'lláh to Acre in Syria, and there they remain to the present day,
the former surrounded by a very few, the latter by many devoted
adherents. Less than a year ago I visited both places, and heard both
sides of a long and tangled controversy. But the upshot of the whole
matter is, that out of every hundred Bábís probably not
more than three or four are Ezelís, all the rest accepting
Behá'u'lláh as the final and most perfect manifestation of
the Truth.
Having now traced very briefly the later history of the sect, I must
add some few words as to the most salient features of their faith. To
discuss this fully would need more time than has been allotted to me
altogether, and I am therefore forced to enumerate such points as have
not already been alluded to in the merest outline. God-one, eternal,
incomprehensible-reveals to man so much as he can apprehend of truth
by means of an endless but intermittent succession of prophets. The
essence of their teaching is, in reality, one and the same; for the same
universal wisdom speaks, and the same divine will acts through all of
them. But as man advances and evolves his latent potentialities, he needs
a fuller light, and can bear a clearer teaching. We tell a child that
knowledge is sweet. "Is it sweet like sugar?" it asks. And we,
because we wish to teach it to love knowledge, are compelled to speak in
that language which it can understand, and which, to it, is the nearest
approach to absolute truth attainable, and answer, "Yes; sweet
like sugar." So it is with man, for the human race has an infancy, a
childhood, a youth, a maturity. And now, in its maturity, those illustrations
-sufficient for and adapted to its infancy are no longer suitable. Heaven is
true, but it is a state, not a place." If to-day any one believes in the
Beyán," says the Báb, "he is seated on a throne of glory,
though he be seated in the dust." So too wherever an unbeliever dwells,
there is the `"Land of Fire." There is a resurrection, but it is not that which
men have imagined; each "manifestation" of the divine wisdom in
human form is
p. 352
the "resurrection" of that which preceded it, wherein the fruit is
reaped of the seed then sown. That is the "judgment," that is the "
meeting with God," and the angels are the reapers who go forth to gather
in what is ripe and good. And thus it is that, according to whether they
are addressing a Muhammadan, a Christian, *or a Jew, the
Bábís say that the Imám Mahdí has
come, that Christ has returned, or that Moses has reappeared on earth ;
for to them all these phrases signify the same thing. As to the belief in a
future life, it is there, but it is not prominent. A universal reign of peace,
love, freedom, and unity of belief and effort is the thing primarily aimed at; for Bábíism, in spite of the mystic enthusiasm which
pervades it, differs from Sufíism. in the essentially practical
objects which it has in view. A material resurrection is denied, and the
immaterial future of the spirit must not divert our thoughts from the work
of regenerating the world. War must cease, nations must mingle in
friendship, justice must become universal, all men must be as brothers.
"Ye are all the fruit of one tree," says Behá, "and the
leaves of one branch. Walk, then, with perfect charity, concord, affection,
and agreement, for I swear by the Sun of Truth that the light of
agreement shall brighten and illumine the horizons." So again he says,
"Pride is not for him who loveth his country, but rather for him who loveth
the whole world." As for those who commit sin and cling to the world," he
says elsewhere, they are assuredly not of the people of
Behá"
Religious hatred and rancour is a world-consuming fire," we read in
another place," and the quenching thereof most arduous, unless the hand
of Divine Might give man deliverance from this unfruitful calamity."
People of all creeds are to be associated with in a fair and friendly spirit,
not shunned as unclean or treated as foes. Persuasion may be used to
gain converts, but the employment of force is hateful to God. "If ye be
slain, it is better for you than that ye should slay." The diffusion of
knowledge is a most laudable thing, for, says Behá, "he who
educateth his son, or one of the sons of another, it is as though he had
educated one of my sons." But studies like logic and philosophy, which
conduce only to disputation, are discouraged. The study of living
languages is, on the other hand, encouraged, since it conduces to the
closer union of diverse peoples. It is, however, recommended that in
course of time one language (either one of those at present existing, or a
new universal language) and one writing be chosen by the assembled
representatives of the different nations, and that these be taught to every
one, so that thenceforth there may be no obstacle to the free intercourse
of all mankind.
I trust that I have told you enough to make it clear that the objects at
which this religion aims are neither trivial nor unworthy of the noble self-
devotion and heroism of the Founder and his followers. It is the lives and
deaths of these, their hope which knows no despair, their love which
knows no cooling, their steadfastness which knows no wavering, which
stamp this wonderful movement with a character entirely its own. For
whatever may
p. 353
be the merits or demerits of the doctrines for which these scores and
hundreds of our fellow-men died, they have at least found something
which. made them ready to
"leave all things under the sky,
And go forth naked under sun and rain,
And work and wait and watch out all their years."
It is not a small or easy thing to endure what these have endured, and
surely what they deemed worth life itself is worth trying to understand. 1
say nothing of the mighty influence which, as I believe, the
Bábí faith will exert in the future, nor of the new life it
may perchance breathe into a dead people; for, whether it succeed or fail,
the splendid heroism of the Bábí martyrs is a thing
eternal and indestructible.
He whose soul by love is quickened never can to death be hurled
Written is their life immortal in the records of the world."
But what I cannot hope to have conveyed to you is the terrible
earnestness of these men, and the indescribable influence which this
earnestness, combined with other qualities, exerts on any one who has
actually been brought in contact with them. That you must take my word
for, or else
Chú dar rah bi-biní buridí sarí,
Ki ghaltán shavad sú-yi-meydán-i-
má,
Azú purs, azú purs asrár-i-má,
Kazú bishnaví sirr-i-panhán-i-má."
"When thou seest in the path a severed head
Which is rolling towards our field,
Ask of it, ask of it our secrets,
For from it thou may'st hear our hidden mystery."
From the Díván of Shams-i-
Tabríz.
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