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Undermining the Foundations of Orthodoxy: Some Notes on the Báb's Sharia (Sacred Law

14 Undermining the Foundations of Orthodoxy: Some Notes on the Báb’s Sharia (Sacred Law)* Armin Eschraghi The movement founded by Sayyid ‘Alí-Muhammad Shírází, known to history as the ‘Báb’, is essentially a religious one. Various scholars have presented many widely differing explanations of the aims and characteristics of his teachings. In addition to proposing absurd conspiracy theories that need not be discussed here (for a discussion of some of these theories see Momen 2004, pp. 27 passim), some researchers have suggested that the Bábí movement was interested merely in the reform of the Islamic Twelver Shi‘i sect. Others have seen it as an essentially political and thus non- or, at most, pseudo-religious revolutionary movement, while yet others have characterized it as a particularly radical and militant offshoot from Twelver Shi‘ism. There are several reasons why interpretations differ so widely and even contradict each other. The most important factor is a failure to consult primary sources, i.e. the writings of the Báb and those of his early disciples. Only in the past two decades has interest been rekindled and a number of well-researched articles on Bábí writings published. Yet the focus of these works has largely been limited to the Báb’s early writings, that is those written before 1847–8. During his solitary confinement in Mákú the Báb wrote the Persian Bayán in which, for the first time, he explicitly put forth his true claim, elaborated his metaphysical teachings and laid down a new set of rituals as well as rules governing the affairs of the community. In 1848 a number of his most prominent followers formally declared a break with Islam. From, at the latest, 1848 onwards Bábism can no longer be deemed a Shi‘i sect or an Islamic reform movement. It rather becomes an independent faith, fulfilling all the criteria of a separate religion, i.e. a founder figure, new holy writings, a new set of metaphysical and theological teachings distinct from those of Islam, new ritual observances as well as prescriptions for human relations. *The following is a revised and expanded extract from a Persian manuscript presented at the annual gathering of the Society of Persian Letters and Arts in Tambach (Ger-many) in August 2004. Parts of the Persian manuscript are published in Khúshih‑há‑‘í az Kharman‑i Adab va Hunar, vol. 15 (Darmstadt: ‘Asr-i Jadíd, 162be/2005) under the title Mabání‑i Andíshih‑yi Tajaddud dar Áthár‑i Hadrat‑i A‘lá, pp. 26–57. 224 a most noble pattern Bayánic law has hitherto remained largely unstudied and it contains many ordinances and prescriptions that seem somewhat strange and puzzling to the uninitiated modern reader. It is only through, at the very least, a basic understanding of the aims underlying the Báb’s new sharia that the historical significance of Bábism and its relationship to its successor, the Bahá’í Faith, can be adequately understood. The following is an attempt to shed light on a few characteristics of Bayánic law and to investigate the reasons why the Báb laid down these ordinances. A glance at some of his theological teachings will provide the necessary background, so that the importance of Bayánic law and its ‘revolutionary’ character can be seen in the context of the general aims of the Báb. Theological background of the new sharia A common trait of most religious movements, conservative or modernist, is that they equally perceive of themselves as ‘reformist’. Nevertheless, somewhat paradoxically, they at the same time present their activities as reviving the ‘original spirit’ of their religion and as an effort to go ‘back to their roots’. A few Islamic movements serve as examples. Amongst the most conservative groups are the ‘Wahhábiyyah’ or more generally the ‘Salafiyyah’. In their view, the age of the Prophet Muhammad was the ‘Golden Age’ of Islam. Thus they consequently try to re-animate the spirit of those days by adapting their clothing, beard, speech and behaviour to standards they believe were common 1400 years ago in the Hijáz. According to their belief, presentday society has deviated from those standards and needs to be brought back to the ‘Straight Path’. Thus, to them, reform means that Islam is cleansed of all traditions, customs and beliefs that have been added to it over the centuries. Another example is the concept of ‘Viláyat-i Faqíh’ (governance by the [supreme] jurisprudent), introduced into Twelver Shi‘i Islam by a couple of theologians around Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini (d. 1989). Twelver Shi‘ism was in its origins a quietist and apolitical movement, a fact that has its doctrinal roots in the absence of the Imam (see below). Thus the idea that a jurisprudent can be the only legitimate head of state is essentially a departure from the very core of centuries-old Shi‘i theology.1 Yet Khomeini claimed that his new doctrine represented the true and original spirit of Islam. In his book Hukúmat‑i Islámí (Islamic Government), where, for the first time, Khomeini detailed his views concerning the illegitimacy of any secular government, he presented numerous verses from the Qur’an and oral traditions attributed to Muhammad and the Imams in an attempt to present his ideas as original Islamic doctrine. Numerous modernist groups and thinkers have tried to introduce progressive ideas into Islam. However, they also try to portray these measures not as changes but rather as a return to the original spirit of Islam. ‘Alí Sharí‘atí, who has become somewhat of a symbol for a subsequent generation of – at least, Iranian – reformers, used to teach that ‘Safavid Islam’2 was a departure from the original ‘Islam of ‘Alí’. According to him, the spirit of the latter needed to be rekindled in order to constructively change Iranian society (see Rahnema 1998, pp. 300ff.). From the most conservative to the most progressive movements, no religious reformer has, for different reasons, been able or willing to wholly sever ties with undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 225 past doctrines, which would have been a precondition for introducing substantial changes.3 The reason lies at the core of traditional Islamic dogma, according to which history is a linear process, starting from creation, then passing through several stages of progressive development and finally culminating in the revelation of God’s final messenger. His message is complete and after him there will be no more progress; rather, the world will end on Judgement Day.4 The core issue all original thinkers and modernists struggle with is that Islamic dogma does not allow for any substantial reform. It is noteworthy that bid‘ah (innovation) is a terminus technicus for heresy and deemed one of the gravest sins. New ideas can rarely be justified without either a great deal of allegorical interpretation or by simply ignoring certain Quranic prescriptions. Conservatives thus see reformist approaches as heresy and deviation from the Straight Path, whereas unbiased observers realize the logical contradictions in the arguments. This weakens the reformer’s position from the outset. The Báb, much like other founders of world religions, did not bother filling ‘old skins with new wine’. He not only abrogated Islamic law and many dogmas but also actually replaced them with a new set of doctrines. Further, the idea of steady and infinite progress and renewal is at the core of his religious doctrine. In the first years of his ministry, he did not formally announce a break with Islam. Rather, he outwardly upheld the standard of the Islamic sharia and seemingly denied any claim to a new revelation or to end the Islamic dispensation.5 However, even in his earliest works for the initiated reader it is obvious that the Báb was already well aware of – and frequently alluded to – his full claim, which he later publicly declared.6 Some of the Báb’s earliest verses were an open provocation to the Shi‘i clerics. One example was his stance on the complex rules of Arabic grammar. He not only wrote in a fashion that contradicted those rules, he even went so far as to call them ‘satanic’ (al‑qawá’id al‑shaytániyyah) (Qayyúm al-Asmá’, sura 86) and claimed that through his intercession God had decided to free language from the rules and chains placed on its neck in the past (Risálah fí ‘Ilm al-Nahw, vol. 67, p. 121; cf. Amanat 1989, pp. 269f.). In another early work, his Persian Scripture of Justice (Sahífih-yi ‘Adliyyih), the Báb wrote: Just as the worlds have progressed (taraqqí namúdih) the [usages of] words and vowels have progressed. It is well nigh possible that a day will shine forth when the verses of God shall be recited devoid of such rules as are now common among the people (Sahífih-yi ‘Adliyyih, p. 12).7 Here the Báb uses symbolic language to express an idea that is constantly alluded to throughout his earliest works, namely that soon fundamental and far-reaching, sometimes painful, changes will occur.8 It is particularly noteworthy that the term bid‘ah and derivatives of it, such as badí‘ and bid‘ occur in virtually every sura of the Qayyúm al-Asmá’ and the Kitáb al-Rúh, the two most voluminous early works of the Báb presently known to us (Eschraghi 2004, pp. 170f.). The Báb’s early writings are, by far, less orthodox than they appear to be at first sight. Unorthodox ideas, mainly of Shaykhi origin, recur in them, such as belief in the ‘Fourth Support’ (al‑rukn ar‑Rábi‘, al‑harf ar‑rábi‘)9 and specific instructions for visiting the shrines of the Imams.10 226 a most noble pattern However, it is in the Persian Bayán that the Báb conclusively and unequivocally abrogates the Islamic sharia and replaces it with a new one. A first sign of this break with the past is already evident from the opening verse of the Persian Bayán: ‘In the Name of God, the Most Inaccessible, the Most Holy.’11 Here the Báb departs from the Islamic custom, observed throughout his earlier works, to start any piece of writing with the Quranic ‘In the Name of God the Forgiver, the Merciful’ (for the theological aspects of this new opening verse see Lambden 1997, p. 54). The idea of the steady renewal of the world had already been expressed by Islamic philosophers such as Mullá Sadrá (d. 1640) in his doctrine of ‘essential movement (al‑harakah al‑jawhariyyah)’, as well as by mystics following the ideas of Ibn ‘Arabí (d. 1240), such as Muhsin Fayd al-Káshání (d. 1680) and ‘Abd al-Razzáq Fayyád al-Láhíjí (d. 1661). It had also found its way into the writings of the Shaykhiyyah. The Creator, thus, steadily re-creates Creation. The divine bounties (fayd) flow incessantly back and forth from their source. The world, although it appears static to the observer, is actually in a constant process of change. In his early writings, the Báb often alludes to this philosophical concept and confirms it (cf. Eschraghi 2004, p. 320). Since, according to him, the lower spheres of the world mirror the upper ones, in this material world there also needs to be constant change. In the Persian Bayán he further develops this idea and teaches the steady re-creation of the world each time God sends a new messenger. Let it not be hidden from the reader of these words that God made the creation of the Qur’an return (‘awd farmúd) on the Day of Resurrection through the appearance of his own Self (bi‑zuhúr‑i nafs‑i ú) on that Day. Then He created all things anew (bid‘an), as if they had been created in that very moment (Persian Bayán 1:1).12 The world does not cease to progress and there will always be messengers – or rather, as they are called in Bábí scripture, Manifestations (mazáhir) – of God. It is man’s duty to recognize these Manifestations and on the day of their appearance, God creates every creature anew according to its belief or disbelief.13 How many believe in one Revelation and in another fall into the Fire! And how many have been inmates of hellfire in the previous Revelation and reached Paradise in the next! Should a soul be a non-believer in a thousand and thousand Revelations and then, in the one after these thousand and thousand Revelations become a believer, all his worlds (‘awálim)14 will be turned into belief. And – God forbid – in the opposite case, the opposite will happen (agar bar ‘aks, bar ‘aks) (Persian Bayán 3:15). The Báb sees every revelation of God as a radical change and a process of renewal. Each appearance of a Manifestation is equal to a new creation and whatever existed before it becomes obsolete, as if it had not existed at all. Once a new revelation appears, clinging to the former, its rules and customs, is not acceptable in the sight of God. Whatever pleasure is imagined today is in this Paradise, whereas all pleasure has been severed from the former Paradise (ibid. 2:16). undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 227 If the root (asl) becomes obsolete, how then should its derivatives (far‘) remain? Fear ye God, O Servants! (ibid. 5:15). In the second quotation the words used by the Báb as well as the context of the passage have an obvious technical background. Asl (lit. root) is used to denote the fundamentals and basics of Islamic theology and law. The furú‘ (lit. branches) are detailed prescriptions derived from the fundamentals. The Báb is thus clearly referring to the fact that sacred Law is abrogated in its derivatives as well as in its essentials. He goes beyond a mere attempt at reinterpretation of core issues in order to derive a more timely understanding of Islam. To the Báb every new revelation of God is like a knife cutting off all relations with the preceding one. The following passage impressively documents to what extent the Báb expected people to be detached from tradition: . . . Should a hundred thousand souls gather to circumambulate the House [the Ka‘ba.] and leave their homes for the day when permission for circumambulating is given, and should on that very day the Tree of Truth appear and command: ‘Don’t circumambulate!’ – should they all immediately abide, they have reached [true] circumambulating. However, should they fail, all their deeds will become naught (ibid. 8:2). The Báb does not exempt his own religion from this rule. His own faith is not perceived of as everlasting. Rather, ‘the Bayán is the balance of God until the Day of Him Whom God shall make manifest’ (ibid. 2:6). The religion of the Báb is thus only valid until a new revelation of God takes place. The concept of a chain of divine revelations is further expressed in a passage that explains how every religion has as its ultimate goal the preparation of its adherents for the coming of the next Manifestation. Towards the end of that passage, the Báb says: . . . and all [previous] Revelations and this Revelation and the Revelation of Him Whom God shall make manifest were created for the Revelation of Him who shall come after Him Whom God shall make manifest (ba‘d man yuzhiruh Alláh). And all these Revelations [were] for the coming of the One after the One after Him Whom God shall make manifest. And in this manner incessantly the Sun of Truth shines forth and sets, without beginning or end (ibid. 4:12). A number of core Islamic beliefs are either abrogated or completely changed by the Báb. For example, he denies corporeal resurrection on Judgement Day, a logical consequence of the symbolic interpretation given of ‘resurrection’ (ibid. 2:11). The meaning of ‘Day of Resurrection’ is the Day when the Tree of Truth appears. Not a single soul is perceived among the Shi‘a that has understood the ‘Day of Resurrection’. Rather, they have all clung unto a vain imagining that has no truth in the sight of God (ibid. 2:7).15 The Báb further abrogates the whole notion of an oral tradition supplementing the 228 a most noble pattern revealed scriptures of God. He strongly decries narrating miracles and accounts that have no basis in the revealed text. In fact he makes clinging to tradition responsible for unbelief at the time of the revelation of any Manifestation. Whoever seeks to prove the truth of the Point of the Bayán [i.e. the Báb] through anything but divine verses has veiled himself from the greatest proof and the noblest path . . . In the Qur’an nothing other than this proof has been revealed. Had they all understood this, it would have been easier for them, rather than to profess faith in God through matters they narrate themselves and for which there is no proof in the book of God (Persian Bayán 6:8).16 Finally a point of great theological importance is the Báb’s endorsement of ‘alteration of divine decree (badá’)’. A matter of dispute for centuries, several theories have been presented by Shi‘i thinkers. Some have argued that God, once he has made a decision, cannot alter it at a later point in time (for a discussion of badá’ in Shi‘i history see the entry in Khurramsháhí et al. 1995 and also see Goldziher 2003). Thus all prophecies will have to come true in exactly the way they have been recorded. Others have allowed for badá’ only under specific historical circumstances, such as the nomination of the seventh Imam.17 The view endorsed by the Báb was that God’s omnipotence does not allow for any limitation of his freedom to choose and decide whatever he wishes. Paraphrasing a canonical hadith (al-Qummí 1967, Báb al-Badá’ 54:1, pp. 331f.) the Báb writes: God is not worshipped through anything [as he is] through [belief in] badá’ because badá’ is recognition of his power to do what He willeth. If one worships God through all imaginable means – should he acknowledge belief (i‘tiráf) in badá’ it is still a greater act of worship than everything else he has done (Persian Bayán 4:3). The importance of badá’ for the Báb’s Revelation can hardly be overestimated. The concept played an important role in Shi‘i eschatology and Shaykhi thought as well as in early Bábí apologetics (see Eschraghi 2004, pp. 101f., 158f., 214f., 329).18 However, what it stresses more than anything else is the Báb’s belief that each Manifestation is completely free in his decisions and not bound by men’s expectations or even by earlier prophecies. Thus a total break with the past such as the Báb’s annulment the Islamic sharia receives its theological justification. The point made above is that the Báb did not perceive himself as a reformer in the classical sense, nor did he intend to merely revive or reinterpret Islam. He went much further than reform and created the theological fundamentals as well as a new religious paradigm. We shall now examine the concrete implications of this new paradigm by looking at some of the Báb’s laws. General characterization of Bayánic law As has been noted above, Bayánic law includes prescriptions that seem foreign and sometimes obscure and harsh. One wonders, then, what might have been the Báb’s motivation for abrogating Islamic law, only to replace it with an at times more modern undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 229 and suitable, but sometimes even more severe and altogether virtually impracticable one. In reply to such a question, Shoghi Effendi has given the following explanations: The severe laws and injunctions revealed by the Báb can be properly appreciated and understood only when interpreted in the light of his own statements regarding the nature, purpose and character of his own Dispensation. As these statements clearly reveal, the Bábí Dispensation was essentially in the nature of a religious and indeed social revolution, and its duration had therefore to be short, but full of tragic events, of sweeping and drastic reforms. Those drastic measures enforced by the Báb and His followers were taken with the view of undermining the very foundations of Shí‘ih orthodoxy, and thus paving the way for the coming of Bahá’u’lláh. To assert the independence of the new Dispensation, and to prepare also the ground for the approaching Revelation of Bahá’u’lláh, the Báb had therefore to reveal very severe laws, even though most of them were never enforced. But the mere fact that He revealed them was in itself a proof of the independent character of His Dispensation and was sufficient to create such widespread agitation, and excite such opposition on the part of the clergy that led them to cause His eventual martyrdom (Bahá’u’lláh 1992, n109 (emphasis added)). . . . this Book [the Bayán] . . . should be regarded primarily as a eulogy of the Promised One rather than a code of laws and ordinances designed to be a permanent guide to future generations . . . Designedly severe in the rules and regulations it imposed, revolutionizing in the principles it instilled, calculated to awaken from their age-long torpor the clergy and the people, and to administer a sudden and fatal blow to obsolete and corrupt institutions, it proclaimed, through its drastic provisions, the advent of the anticipated Day, the Day when ‘the Summoner shall summon to a stern business’, when He will ‘demolish whatever hath been before Him, even as the Apostle of God demolished the ways of those that preceded Him’ (Shoghi Effendi 1979, p. 25). From these two quotations three main underlying goals of the Báb’s code of laws are gathered. One is ‘paving the way’ for the next Manifestation. The second is to deal a ‘blow to obsolete and corrupt’ institutions of Shi‘i orthodoxy. The third is to ‘assert the independence’ of his Revelation. Preparing for the advent of the Promised One That the main goal of the Báb was to prepare people for the coming of the next Manifestation is so obvious to even a cursory reader of the Bayán that it need not be explained in much detail here. E.G. Browne’s testimony to this effect reads as follows: We cannot fail but to be struck by the fact that when the Báb was a prisoner and an exile at Mákú, probably well aware of what his ultimate fate would be, he showed far more anxiety about the reception which should be accorded to ‘Him whom God shall manifest’ than about himself . . . Almost every ordinance in the Beyán is 230 a most noble pattern similarly designed to be a perpetual reminder of ‘Him whom God shall manifest’ (Browne in Momen 1987, p. 232). The following quotations confirm Browne’s impression that the focal point of the Bayán was indeed intended to be the Promised One and the ultimate goal of all prescriptions therein his recognition: The Bayán and all who believe in it circumambulate the word of ‘Him Whom God shall make manifest’, just as the Gospel and all who believe in it circumambulated the word of Muhammad the Apostle of God (Persian Bayán 3:3, cf. 5:8, 2:6, 2:17, 2:19). Take good heed of yourselves, for the sum total of the religion of God is but to help Him, rather than to observe, in the time of His appearance, such deeds as are prescribed in the Bayán. Should anyone, however, ere He manifesteth Himself, transgress the ordinances, were it to the extent of a grain of barley, he would have transgressed His command (The Báb 1976, p. 85). Later Bábí apologetics and polemics claimed that the Báb fixed a time for the coming of the next Manifestation or at least implied that it would take 1500 to 2001 years. This is not the place to treat this subject here since it has already been discussed by others (Afnán 1997, pp. 1–37; Mu’ayyad 1992, pp. 94–102).19 In short, such an argument has no basis whatsoever in his writings. The Báb, quite to the contrary, stressed repeatedly that the future Manifestation was free to appear at any time and place and under any condition. One of the many warnings directed by the Báb towards his followers is this: At all times, await the beginning of the Revelation (awwal‑i zuhúr). Should you hesitate for less than a moment you will be counted among the ‘new [converts]’ in the sight of God. Just as you call today those non-Muslims who enter Islam (Persian Bayán 6:13).20 Even if there were statements by the Báb placing conditions on Him Whom God shall make manifest, they would have to be considered in light of the following quotation: Beware, beware lest, in the days of His Revelation, the Váhid of the Bayán [Letters of the Living] shut thee not out as by a veil from Him, inasmuch as this Váhid is but a creature in His sight. And beware, beware that the words sent down in the Bayán shut thee not out as by a veil from Him (quoted in Bahá’u’lláh 1988, p. 153).21 That the Báb was very anxious about the fate of the next Manifestation is more than obvious. We shall now look at some of the concrete measures the Báb took to ‘pave the way’. The independent character of the Bayánic sharia Much has already been said above about the independent character of the Báb’s religion. Laying down a new sharia was indeed a vital factor in proclaiming a undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 231 new religious paradigm and in giving the adherents of the new faith a distinctive identity. Had the Báb simply abrogated the sharia and not revealed a new code of laws, the separation of Islam would not have been as clear. Bábís have argued that the Báb revealed laws for a future state of society, when the majority at least of Iran’s population will have embraced his faith. Their main argument was that the Promised One could not come so shortly after the Báb, since the Bayánic sharia had not even been put into effect and it was thus too early for it to be abrogated. As has been noted above, there is no indication anywhere in the Báb’s writings that the Promised One was to come only after victory of the Báb’s faith or, for that matter, at any specific point of time. Furthermore, reading the Persian Bayán might leave the reader puzzled as to how some of the more complex and sometimes obscure regulations were ever to be put into practice. It seems obvious that the Báb’s sharia was essentially symbolic in character. Virtually every prescription and regulation is designed to be either a reminder of the advent of the Promised One or a means of paying tribute to him. It is hard to imagine that the Báb should have anticipated any state to actually put all his laws, especially the ritual observances, into practice.22 Rituals are a central part of any religion and play an important part for the identity of its adherents. The Báb gave various complex and detailed prescriptions as to how and when a certain number of verses should be either recited or written down. These are too many to summarize here (for a more detailed description of Bábí ritual see MacEoin 1994). Further, several rituals are to symbolize constant change and foster detachment on behalf of the believers. Among these are the ordinances to renew personal belongings every 19 years (Arabic Bayán 9:14) and to renew books every 66 or 202 years (Persian Bayán 7:1).23 In addition, a new calendar was introduced (ibid. 5:3) according to which the new law of fasting (ibid. 8:18) had to be observed. Obligatory prayer (salát) was enjoined on the believers in the Bayán. However, the exact nature of this prayer remains unclear.24 It was, in any case, different from the Islamic obligatory prayer and the qiblih was to be the Promised One (Persian Bayán 7:19). The call to prayer (adhán) had already been changed in the early period of the Báb’s Revelation (‘The Báb’, in Afnan 2000, pp. 99–100). Various burial rites are part of the Bayánic sharia, differing considerably from Islamic custom, not least in that coffins are mandatory (Persian Bayán 5:11, 12; 8:11; 9:9). Pilgrimage is another ritual that completely differs from Islam. It is to be made to the house of the Báb in Shiraz. Additionally, shrines for outstanding believers of the Báb’s dispensation are to be erected and visited (ibid. 4:15–5:2 and elsewhere). New codes of laws governing marriage (ibid. 6:7) and divorce (ibid. 8:15) as well as inheritance (ibid. 8:2) have also been revealed in the Bayán. Even the traditional Islamic greeting is substituted with other formulas (ibid. 6:5). Therefore, all major parts of religious law have been altered or replaced by the Báb.25 Since the Báb’s laws were designed to pave the way for the next Manifestation, some of them aimed to reshape the general state of society. Therefore, despite what has been said above about the general impracticability of some Bayánic laws, there are a number of regulations that could have had a deep impact on 19th-century Iranian society.26 232 a most noble pattern Largely because of the dramatic unveiling and subsequent tragic fate of an early outstanding disciple of the Báb, Táhirih ‘Qurratu’l-‘Ayn’, Bábism has often been characterized as strengthening the role of women, although there seems to be no clear provision in the Bayán that would in fact establish the kind of equality that is to be found later on in Bahá’í writings, nor does there seem to be much proof that Táhirih was motivated by a struggle for women’s rights. But nevertheless a number of Bayánic ordinances indeed improve the situation of women in society. Although there seems to be no unequivocal abrogation of the Islamic law of veiling,27 there is a provision that allows Bábí men and women to look at each other and communicate in a befitting manner. Those who have been brought up in this community (tá’ifih), men and women, are allowed to look [at each other], speak and sit together (ibid. 8:9, cf. Persian Bayán 8:10). That men and women are allowed to see each other could be understood as at least a partial abrogation of the law of veiling. Modern western readers might not appreciate the revolutionary potential of this permission. Suffice it to say that up to the present Bábís and Bahá’ís are accused of committing all kinds of immoral acts during their religious meetings just because women are allowed to participate. The Bayání sharia relieves women from obligatory pilgrimage (hajj) (Persian Bayán 4:19). The fact that marriage is dependant on mutual consent is another strengthening of women’s position in religious law (ibid. 6:7). When embarking on trips men should exhaust all possibilities to take their wives with them (Haykal al-Dín 6:16). Men who maltreat their wives and daughters are said to deviate from the path of truth: Conduct yourselves with your women in the most loving manner. Believing women are like the leaves of the heavenly camphor tree. Do not mistreat (mayázár) them even for a blink of an eye, because were you to do so, you shall be veiled from the command of God for that very blink of an eye (Sahífih-yi ‘Adliyyih, p. 38). The greatest means to achieve nearness of God is showing utmost love and kindness to one’s wife and children (Persian Bayán 4:19). Another interesting part of Bábí law has to do with education. Children are to be treated with utmost care and loving-kindness. Parents are obliged to treat their offspring well and to ensure their education at least until they are 11 years old. The Báb does not make a distinction between boys and girls in that regard.28 The love parents display in regard to their children is considered as the greatest act of worship and tantamount to showing love for God (Persian Bayán 4:19). Children may never be left alone and should be encouraged with kind words (Haykal al-Dín 6:10).29 On holy days they should be allowed to play (Persian Bayán 6:11). In school they must be placed on chairs (Haykal ad-Dín 6:10; cf. Persian Bayán 6:11). Teachers are not allowed to beat children before they reach the age of five. Even then, they may only be beaten five times slightly, not on the flesh but on the clothes. Should a teacher beat a child more than five times or on the flesh, he may not approach his wife for undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 233 19 days, or if he is unmarried, he will have to pay a fine, even if the transgression occurred unintentionally (Persian Bayán 11:6). As a further measure to improve the general condition of the state and making information available to all inhabitants, the Báb makes it a duty for every ruler to establish a postal system. He further says that, although such a system already exists in Iran, it is insufficient because ‘the weak ones (mustad‘afín)’ have no access to it (ibid. 4:16). In a similar vein, the Báb approves and highly praises the printing of books so that the verses of God may be spread and made accessible to all (ibid. 7:1). A further Bayánic law is the general prohibition of tobacco and intoxicating substances (ibid. 9:7, 8). Even animal rights feature in the Bayán. Thus, animals are not to be mistreated, otherwise they will demand a punishment from God for their possessor. Should someone seek to enlarge his profit through unduly burdening his animals, he will not succeed in doing so and be subject to divine punishment (ibid. 6:16). Laws in relation to Shi‘i clerics According to Shoghi Effendi, one of the Báb’s major goals was provocation and thus causing changes in the general structure of society. The most effective and necessary means to do this was to shatter the power of the clergy. Although initially of a quietist sect, certain Shi‘i clerics developed an elaborate theology to justify their craving for worldly power. By the time of the Qajar dynasty (18th/19th century ad) the influence of the clerics had reached a new height. It is beyond the scope of the present article to describe the complex relations between government, monarchy, clerics and the people, neither can the historical development of certain theological ideas prevalent in Qajar times be discussed here.30 But a few points are particularly important for understanding the revolutionary character of the Báb’s Revelation. Unlike their predecessors, the Safavid dynasty (1501–1722), the Qajar rulers did not lay claim to charismatic religious authority. This vacuum could now be completely filled by the Shi‘i ulama, who had by now successfully developed and implemented the doctrine of general vicegerency (al‑ niyábah al‑‘ámmah), thus seizing complete authority in religious matters. In addition, most Qajar monarchs were quite pious and supported the clerics and the Usúlí establishment in many regards. In return, the ulama did not openly challenge the authority of the monarch and even safeguarded its religious legitimization. The ‘fifth (khums)’ or ‘share of the Imam (sahm‑i Imám)’ was to be submitted to them, as sole representatives of the Hidden Imam. In addition, they were in control of religious endowments (awqáf). A third source of income was their legal function, such as issuing and confirming contracts, marriage certificates, etc. The clerics thus possessed great spiritual authority as well as financial power and enjoyed the great respect of both the royal court as well as the ordinary believers, the vast majority of whom were illiterate.31 Although there seems to have been no serious attempts to actually usurp state power, the ulama in Qajar times were very keen on and successful in steadily broadening the scope of their authority and in exercising influence in state affairs.32 Some ulama were influential enough to issue verdicts and punish perpetrators according to the sharia, thus indirectly denying allegiance 234 a most noble pattern to the executive and judicative powers of the state, at least in religious matters.33 In religious matters, Shi‘i Islam had increasingly become a legalistic construct, obsessed with detailed and often absurd minutiae of ritual or even everyday behaviour.34 The foundations for church-like hierarchical structures that characterize contemporary Iranian Shi‘ism were laid during this period. Charismatic, spiritual and mystical tendencies were looked upon with great contempt and often severely attacked. Religion had thus become a body without spirit.35 The government was in many regards rather frail. The state was constantly weakened by challenges to its central authority such as local revolutions by militant separatist movements and unwillingness to pay taxes. The overt activities of colonial powers and a disastrous defeat in a war with Russia further weakened the monarchy’s position. For obvious reasons, the ulama were highly sceptical towards any change in the structure of the Qajar state. Any reform, whether religious, economic or social, was perceived as a potential threat to their newly consolidated position and thus faced with their utmost enmity.36 The Báb identified the Muslim clerics as those who showed forth the greatest enmity towards his Revelation and the utmost zeal in fighting it. He made them responsible not only for denying the truth of his Revelation but also for leading astray the people and thus not fulfilling their self-assumed duty to enjoy the good and support believers in their search after truth: At the time of every revelation the people of that revelation were veiled by the learned (ulama) of that revelation (Persian Bayán 7:11).37 Had they been content with their own veiled condition and had they not dealt unjustly with anyone and not issued commands contrary to what has been revealed in the Book of God, they would have had cast themselves into hellfire. But now, their own punishment as well as that of whoever imagines them to be the ulama of Islam – nay, rather [the punishment] of whoever failed or will fail to believe in the Revelation of God, will be upon them (ibid. 2:1). A central quotation in challenging the authority of the ulama is the following: The ulama today, because of the utterance of one of the Imams – peace be upon them – who said: ‘Turn towards those who transmit our hadith’, believe themselves to be supreme judges (hakam) appointed by the Imam. Moreover, they attribute titles (asmá’) to themselves which are not suitable. If they spoke honestly, they would not have remained as veiled from him, who confers authority (wiláyah or waláyah) and prophethood through a single word. However, when they perceived that the Revelation of God was not in accordance with [safeguarding] their own station . . . they even issued a verdict (fatwá) against God (ibid. 2:3). In addition to what has been said above, two further important points of criticism can be deduced from the last passage. Serious doubt is cast on the ulama’s justification for their religious authority and the high titles and functions they have claimed for themselves.38 Further, they are so attached to those titles and to their power that undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 235 – should God himself want to take it away from them – they would fight him with every means at their disposal. From the very beginning of his declaration the Báb embarked on a confrontational course with the ulama. His very claim as presented in his earliest writings, although clouded in symbolic language and often minimized by him, already had far-reaching implications for the ulama establishment. As has been noted above, the Shi‘i divines’ claim to authority rested on belief that the Twelfth Imam had gone into occultation. That during the time of the ‘Greater Occultation’ nobody was able to contact the Imam had become a religious dogma. Owing to the absence of the Imam and the impossibility of turning to him directly, the clergy as a whole was to be regarded as his representatives and enjoyed certain prerogatives as well as responsibilities.39 The Báb’s claim to being a ‘specific (kháss) representative’ who speaks on behalf of and receives direct instructions from the Imam was thus tantamount to annulling the ulama’s central basis of authority.40 Apart from its spiritual dimension, such a claim had clear economic implications for the clerics since, as has been explained above, the fifth (al‑khums), for example, was to be paid to the representative of the Imam.41 The Báb further criticized the clerics for their incompetence in uniting the Islamic community. In this day he was to be the only authoritative source of guidance, sent by God to unite the many sects of Shi‘i Islam (cf. Sahífih‑yi ‘Adliyyih, pp .6, 7, 9, 13; Tafsír Súrat al‑Kawthar (INBA 53), pp. 184, 244; Tafsír Súrah wal‑ ‘Asr (INBA 69), p. 26; al‑Risálah al‑Dhahabiyyah (INBA 86), p. 89; Sharh Hadíth Abí Labíd (E.G. Browne Collection F21), p. 20). One of the prerogatives reserved exclusively for the Imam himself was the right to declare offensive holy war (jihad) against the enemies of Islam. The Báb from his earliest Revelation claimed this right for himself when speaking of the ‘Day of Permission’ that was soon to come or had already arrived. In addition, the frequently occurring terms nasr and nusrah (rendering assistance) are loaded with eschatological as well as militant connotations.42 In the Kitáb al‑Rúh, an important and yet neglected voluminous early work, the Báb wrote in reference to Quranic verses: About what do they ask each other about the command of your Lord on the Day of Permission? Say: Verily, now permission has come from your Lord, God, but whom there is no other God. Give permission for waging war (qitál) and say: ‘Whatever God willeth!’ and ‘There is no power save with God!’ . . . And when the Remembrance gives permission for waging war they [the believers] long for God and fight before God in truth (Kitáb al‑Rúh, sura 222). As can be concluded from later developments, the Báb clearly did not intend for his followers to actually engage in militant activities. His ideal was that of suffering and martyrdom.43 However, by invoking messianic sentiments and claiming authority over declaring jihad he uttered a strong provocation against the ulama.44 Frequent calls to mubáhalah45 and declaring the ulama’s incompetence to produce verses like his own were another challenge to their authority. According to the Báb, although the learned spent many years studying grammar and literature, they were still unable to write in equal fashion to him, who was utterly unlearned 236 a most noble pattern but inspired by God. Even more, their whole literary output was worth less than a single word uttered by him (see The Báb, al‑Risálah al‑Dhahabiyyah (INBA 86), p. 82; Kitáb al‑‘Ulámá (INBA 67), p. 209; Fí Bayán al‑I‘tiqádát, in Eschraghi 2004, Appendix I); Persian Bayán 2:1; Tawqí‘ li‑Muhammad Sháh (INBA 64), pp. 114, 125. For additional references and discussion of the Báb’s concept of mubáhalah see Eschraghi 2004, pp. 105f., 126, 138, 160n, 162, 277, 352). At the core of the authority the ulama exercised over ordinary believers was the Friday prayer. At least once a week every Muslim should come to the mosque and pray under the guidance of the prayer leader (Imam Jum‘ih). Afterwards he would listen to the sermon (khutbah) given by that leader. Thus the clerics established constant contact with the believers and made themselves a focal point of social life. Friday prayers have also in the course of history proved to be a powerful tool for influencing popular opinion. Appointment of Friday prayer leaders is a prerogative of the Hidden Imam but for obvious pragmatic reasons this has been suspended. The Báb, in his earliest writings, declared all Friday prayers as unlawful if they were conducted by a leader not appointed by him (Kitáb al‑Rúh, sura 206). Later he abrogated congregational obligatory prayers altogether (Persian Bayán 9:9).46 Additionally, preaching from pulpits was prohibited (Persian Bayán 7:11). These three provisions strike at the very foundation of the ulama’s role as intermediaries between man and God and remove a crucial basis of their social influence. In a similar vein, the forgiveness of sins is to be sought solely in private communion with God or his Manifestation. The Christian and partly Islamic practice of seeking absolution from divines as representatives of God is prohibited (ibid. 7:14). Thus yet another tool of exercising strong psychological power over people was removed. A major part of the ulama’s charismatic authority was rooted in their knowledge. The Shi‘i community is generally divided into clerics and laymen, although the terms generally used are mujtahid and muqallid. Only a man who has passed through specific stages of learning and has proved to be familiar with certain parts of Islamic doctrine and law can become a mujtahid. That means he is allowed to pass authoritative verdicts and judge in religious matters. Permission to exercise ijtihád (an ijázah) is granted by one or more high-ranking clerics. On the other hand, ordinary believers are bound to taqlíd (imitation). They do not have the right to investigate matters independently and come to their own conclusions. For them following the guidance of a mujtahid in all religious matters is mandatory.47 The Shaykhi leader Karím Khán Kirmání summarizes this attitude as follows: Whoever seeks guidance in matters of faith, this is with us. Let him come to us and receive [answers] because these matters are to be found with us, not with shopkeepers (baqqál) and bakers (Risálih‑yi Radd‑i Báb‑i Khusrán Ma’áb, p. 27). The ulama, in short, possessed a monopoly on knowledge.48 They claimed to be the only ones to properly understand the Qur’an and exclusively able to interpret it adequately. They not only knew the complex rules and peculiarities of the Arabic language but were also initiated into the mysteries of theology, philosophy and the oral traditions of the Prophet and the Imams. undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 237 The Báb had already, in the earliest days of his dispensation, made ijtihád dependent on conformity with his own Revelation. Similarly, the ulama were prohibited to study books other than his own writings. And verily, God has forbidden you [to issue] unlawful verdicts and [to practise] ijtihád without pure knowledge of this book (Qayyúm al-Asmá’, sura 2). O Concourse of the Learned! Ye have been forbidden after [the revelation of] this Book to teach anything other than it. Acquaint the people with the prescriptions (ahkám) of the Book and turn away from the obsolete (bátil) writings that are spread amongst you . . . (ibid. sura 27). The scope of the latter early provision was later enhanced. Extensive study of grammar was prohibited, just as were engaging in fruitless and unnecessary theological, philosophical and legalistic discussions and penning treatises about these ‘invented’ matters. The only works to be studied and taught were those of the Báb and treatises inspired by his writings (Persian Bayán 4:10; cf. Qayyúm al-Asmá’, sura 27).49 All other books were to be ‘wiped out (mahw)’ (Persian Bayán 6:6).50 The right to interpret the Word of God was reserved solely for the Manifestation (Persian Bayán 2:2). Therefore a number of the ulama’s prerogatives and the fundamentals of their claim to supreme authority were annulled in the Revelation of the Báb. A very powerful tool to destroy opponents was the practice of takfír (declaring someone as an infidel). The ulama not only used it against non-Muslims and secularists but also against adversaries in their own ranks, such as Ahmad al-Ahsá’í. Declaring a Muslim a non-believer is tantamount to issuing a death warrant because apostasy, according to the Islamic sharia, is a capital crime. The Báb unequivocally prohibited this practice for his own followers. They may not refute each other, since whoever enters the Bayán is a believer. Whatever stage (maqám) he might have reached, it is good (khúb ast). Should one of the [people of the] Bayán refute another of the [people of the] Bayán, he shall be obliged to pay 95 mithqáls of gold . . . The purpose of God in [prescribing] this provision is that none in the Bayán shall dare to refute anyone by calling [him a] non-believer (ibid. 5:14). Likewise, death verdicts were generally forbidden in the Persian Bayán. In case there should arise differences in questions of the [religious] sciences, God has not given permission for anyone in the Bayán to issue a death warrant (fatwá‑yi qatl) against anyone, at any time, under any circumstances and under any condition. Moreover, it is God who judges and commands. How does it behove you, O wayward people, to issue a death warrant against anyone? (ibid. 4:5). Apart from takfír, one specific theme of Shi‘i theology is the idea of ritual impurity (najásah). Probably inspired by Jewish or Hindu thought,51 Shi‘i clerics have developed a complex system defining the conditions for ritual purity (tahárah) 238 a most noble pattern and, should it be lost, what measures need to be taken to regain it. ‘Non-believers’, which usually means non-Muslims and sometimes even non-Twelver Shi‘as, are generally deemed unclean. Touching them or touching an item that has been touched by them previously will necessarily lead to loss of ritual purity and make ritual ablutions mandatory. Najásah in Shi‘i doctrine, it is important to note, has little or nothing to do with hygiene. The Báb, quite to the contrary, explicitly allows for trading and establishing business contacts with people from outside his Faith (Persian Bayán 5:7). In the following passage he treats the subject of ritual impurity and names all things that can restore it: The purifying (al‑mutahhirát) are of diverse kinds (anwá‘): fire, air, water, dust, the Book of God, the Point [i.e. the Báb himself] and his writings, whatever the name of God has been called upon 66 times . . . whoever enters this Faith and is immediately purified as well as whatever belongs to him, further whatever is handed over by someone from outside this Faith to people of this Faith. Ending its connection with him [the former possessor] and establishing connection with them [the believers] purifies it (ibid. 15:14). It is hard to imagine anything that would not fit into at least one of the categories above. Particularly interesting is that believers and the Word of God are called purifying. This renders practically the whole Shi‘i concept of najásah obsolete. Whereas in their view a believer becomes impure by touching an impure person or item, in the Báb’s teaching it is the other way around. It is thus virtually impossible to lose ritual purity as a Bábí. Also, the Báb redefines najásah in that he connects it with general provisions to observe hygiene. For example, water is called purifying, especially flowing water (ibid. 6:2). One cannot but gain the impression that the Báb here, with a certain amount of irony, abrogated a concept that had kept the minds of numerous authors busy for centuries.52 Conclusion The Báb pursued three major goals in revealing his new code of laws. One was preparation for the advent of the Promised One. The second was to provoke the clerical establishment and shatter the foundations of their often-abused institutionalized authority. These provisions were the ones that led to the ulama’s hostility and the Báb’s subsequent martyrdom. The third aim was to prove the independence of his own religion in relation to its predecessor, namely Islam. In the Persian Bayán the Báb basically renewed all aspects of religious life, i.e. he taught a new theological doctrine, set forth ritual ordinances and even made suggestions for reforming the general state of society. Thus the Bábí religion fulfils all the criteria of a new and independent religion and differs in many central issues from mere reform movements. undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 239 Bibliography ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. Risálih‑yi Síyásiyyih. Darmstadt: ‘Asr-i Jadíd, 2005. — The Secret of Divine Civilization. Wilmette, IL: Bahá’í Publishing Trust, 1990. Afnan, Abu’l-Qasim. ‘Ahd‑i A’lá: Zindigání‑i Hadrat‑i Báb (The Bábí Dispensation: The Life of the Báb). Oxford: Oneworld, 2000. Afnan, Muhammad. ‘Áthár-i Manthúr-i Táhirih’, in Khúshih‑há‑’i az Kharman‑i Adab va Hunar. vol. 3. Darmstadt: Druckservice und Verlag Reyhani, 149 be/1992, pp. 89–106. — Ayyám‑i Butún, in Pazhúhish‑Námih, vol. 2, no.1. Dundas: Association for Bahá’í Studies in Persian, 1997. Ahsá’í, Shaykh Ahmad. ‘Hayát an-Nafs’, in Jawámi‘ al‑Kalim, vol. 1. Tabriz: n.p., 1273– 6/1856–7–1860. — Rasá’il al‑Hikmah. Beirut: al-Dár al-‘Álamiyyah, 1993. — Sharh al‑Ziyárah, vol. 1. Kirmán: Cháp-khánih-yi Sa‘ádat, 1979. Amanat, Abbas. 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Taurus, 1994. Mahmúdí, A. Mabání‑i Istinbát‑i Huqúq‑i Islámí. Tehran: Intishárát-i Dánishgáh-i Tihrán, 2003. Mázandarání, Fádil. Táríkh-i Zuhúr al-Haqq, vol. 3. n.p.: n.p., n.d. https://www.h-net. org/~bahai/areprint/vol2/mazand/tzh3/tzh3.htm. McCants, William F. ‘A Grammar of the Divine’, in the present volume. McLean, J. A. (ed.). Revisioning the Sacred: New Perspectives on a Bahá’í Theology. Studies in the Bábí and Bahá’í Religions, vol. 8. Los Angeles: Kalimát Press, 1997. Moayyad, Heshmat. ‘Man Yuzhiruhu’lláh’, in Mahbúb‑i ‘Álam. n.p.: ‘Andalíb Editorial Board of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of Canada, 1992–3, pp. 94–102. Momen, Moojan. Studies in Honor of the Late Hasan M. Balyuzi. Los Angeles: Kalimát Press, 1989. — ‘Conspiracies and Forgeries: The Attack upon the Bahá’í Community in Iran’, in Persian Heritage, vol. 9, no. 35 (Fall 2004). — An Introduction to Shi‘i Islam. London: Yale University Press, 1985. — Selections from the Writings of E. G. Browne on the Bábí and Bahá’í Religions. Oxford: George Ronald, 1987. — (ed.). Studies in the Bábí and Bahá’í Religions; Studies in Honor of the Late Hasan M. Balyuzi, vol. 5. Los Angeles: Kalimát Press, 1988. — ‘The Trial of Mullá ‘Alí Bastámí: A Combined Sunní-Shí‘í Fatwá against the Báb’, in Iran, vol. 20 (1982). Núrí, Shaykh Fadl Alláh. Lawá’ih. Homa Ridvání (ed.). Tehran: n.p., 1983. al-Qummí, Abú Ja‘far Muhammad b. ‘Alí b. Bábawayh. Kitáb al‑Tawhíd. Beirut: Mu’assasat al-A’lamí, 1967. Rahnema, Ali. An Islamic Utopian: A Political Biography of Ali Shari‘ati. New York, I. B. Tauris, 2000. Shoghi Effendi. God Passes By. Wilmette, IL: Bahá’í Publishing Trust, rev. ed. 1979. Notes 1. This criticism was levelled against him by several high-ranking Shi‘i ulama before the Islamic revolution and in the early months after it, notably amongst the members of the ‘Mahdaviyyat (Hujjatiyyih)’ Society, also known as the ‘Anti-Bahá’í Society’. Nevertheless, Khomeini managed to overcome all resistance. In more recent times several books have been written and published in Iran which demonstrate that Khomeini’s idea was in many regards new to Shi‘i Islam. See Kadívar, Nazaríyyih‑ há‑yi dawlat dar fiqh‑i Shí‘ih. 2. The Safavid dynasty came to power in the 16th century and subsequently initiated a process of converting Iran’s hitherto Sunni population to the Shi‘i sect. 3. Throughout history some esoteric groups, such as the Nizárí Ismá‘ílís, have abrogated the Islamic law. But their views were essentially eschatological in nature and not aimed at reforming human or state society in general. The final consequence of their ideas was complete anarchy. 242 a most noble pattern 4. The same, in theory, holds true for Jewish and Christian dogma. 5. The reasons for the Báb’s denial of his claims are complex and will not be presented here. For a detailed discussion on the basis of the Báb’s own writings see Eschraghi, Frühe Shaikhi‑ und Bábí‑Theologie, pp. 134–76. 6. Stephen Lambden (‘The Sinaitic Mysteries’) and Todd Lawson (‘The Terms Remembrance’) have shown this conclusively on the basis of his earliest writings. See also Eschraghi, Frühe Shaikhi‑ und Bábí‑Theologie, pp. 156–76. Further proof is in the 1845 verdict (fatwá) against Mullá ‘Alí Bastámí, translated and analysed by Moojan Momen (‘The Trial of Mullá ‘Alí Bastámí’). In his article Momen also draws attention to a very early Shaykhi polemic: Karím Khán Kirmání’s Izháq al‑bátil. In that work the Shaykhi leader quotes extensively from the Qayyúm al-Asmá’ and concludes that despite the outward claim of the – as yet unknown – author to be a mere representative of the Imam, he actually proclaims himself a prophet, abrogates Islamic law and even sees himself as God. 7. All translations are, unless otherwise noted, provisional and only intend to give the content of a passage, not necessarily to adequately display the beauty of language and other stylistic features. The Báb is here most probably alluding to certain Shaykhi expectations. Apparently, Sayyid Kázim taught that the Promised One held authority to abrogate the rules of grammar. See the Báb’s early Sharh Qawl al-Sayyid ar-Rashtí fí al I‘ráb, in Browne Collection F21, pp. 26–35. On folio-page 31 of that work the Báb states that the Imams are endowed with divine authority to change the rules of grammar in whichever way they deem befitting. 8. M. Afnan speaks of a ‘spiritual revolution’ (inqiláb‑i rúhání) which was initiated by the Báb’s Revelation and is clearly reflected in the grammatical peculiarities of his own writings as well as those of his disciples. See his article ‘Áthár-i Manthúr-i Táhirih’, pp. 91f. For the peculiarities of the Báb’s style see: Behmardi, Muqaddamih’í dar‑ bárih‑yi sabk wa siyàq‑i Áthár‑i Hadrat‑i Nuqtih‑yi Úlá’; and McCants, ‘A Grammar of the Divine’, in the present volume. It seems that Quddús took the break with Arabic grammar to the extreme. In a manuscript of unknown origin but attributed to him we find incomprehensible and completely ungrammatical verb-forms such as y‑q‑sh‑‘‑rr‑t and y‑k‑f‑h‑rr‑t, among others. 9. It is generally believed that Ahsá’í and Rashtí were heavily engaged in raising messianic expectations and anticipated the advent of the Promised One. Although only a few traces of such ideas are found in their writings, there are strong indications that an oral tradition existed at least among some Shaykhi circles. For details see Eschraghi, Frühe Shaikhi‑ und Bábí‑Theologie, pp. 89ff. Thus a representative of the Imam existed at all times and, contrary to mainstream Shi‘i belief, could be contacted by the believers. He was referred to as the Fourth Support of religion, the other three being belief in God, the Prophet and the Imams. Some Shaykhi sects state that Karím Khán Kirmání was the first to introduce the idea of the Fourth Support, a representative of the Hidden Imam present at all times. However, the fact that the term and concept occurs in the Báb’s earliest writings as well as in a number of epistles penned by early Shaykhi converts proves that at least at the time of Rashtí such belief must have existed. One example is a letter written by Táhirih to a Shaykhi adherent defending the Báb’s claim: Mázandarání, Táríkh‑i Zuhúr al‑Haqq, vol. 3, pp. 484–501. See also the Báb’s Tafsír Súrat al-Baqarah translated in Lawson, The Qur’an Commentary of Sayyid ‘Alí Muhammad, pp. 49ff. and passim. 10. Although the general custom is to pray at the head of an Imam, Shaykhis pray at his feet. This, they think, is a sign of great veneration and reverence. Owing to this practice, Shaykhis have also been called ‘Pusht-i Sarís’ and their adversaries ‘BáláSarís’. The Báb, in his early writings, endorsed the Shaykhi practice in this regard and enjoined prayers at the feet of the Imams; see Kitáb al-Rúh (unpublished manuscript), undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 243 sura 247; Ziyárat al-Jámi‘ah al-Kabírah (Iranian National Bahá’í Archives, vol. 50), p. 3; Sahífah bayn al-Haramayn (manuscript dated 1261), pp. 37f. The Báb further explains his new ‘basmala’ in the Persian Bayán 3:6. See also ibid. 7:2 where yet another basmala is introduced. In the Báb’s writings ‘resurrection’ symbolizes the appearance of the next Manifestation of God. In this context Shaykhi writings and the Báb often quote the Quranic (7:172) tale of a pre-existential covenant. His unbelief in all the previous worlds is indicated. Since each revelation is like a new creation, it can be imagined as a whole new ‘world’. Throughout Islamic history several individuals have denied corporeal resurrection. However, they do not seem to have interpreted it in the way the Báb does, namely a new revelation of God. It is sometimes stated that the Shaykhiyyah had already taught a spiritual interpretation of resurrection. In fact, Ahsá’í was attacked by other clerics for his seemingly heterodox views about resurrection and the Prophet’s night journey (see below, note 40). However, his writings do not reveal such a purely spiritual interpretation. His foremost disciple and successor Kázim al-Rashtí wrote a lengthy treatise in defence of his spiritual master’s orthodoxy. An incomplete manuscript in Rashtí’s own handwriting is held at the Kirmání-Shaykhi library (photocopy in possession of present writer). A complete edition of the text was recently published in Beirut. In this work Rashtí repeatedly and unequivocally declares that beyond any doubt the views of Ahsá’í were in complete accordance with orthodox and traditional Shi‘i belief held unanimously by all theologians. Whoever spoke to the contrary was either an enemy of the Shaykh or unaware of his specific terminology. Ironically, Ahsá’í himself had in a commentary on Mullá Sadrá’s ‘Arshiyyah accused the latter of denying corporeal resurrection (see also Rasá’il al‑Hikmah, p. 228). Whatever the case, it is clear that Ahsá’í’s rather complex views about several bodies of different grades of subtlety (see ibid. pp. 96ff.) bear no resemblance whatsoever to the Báb’s interpretation of resurrection. It is noteworthy that the Báb, although in his early works extensively uses specific Shaykhi terminology, never seems to endorse Ahsá’í’s view about resurrection. The quotation above shows that he did not believe any Shi‘i Muslim had understood the truth of the matter. This seems to include Ahsá’í and Rashtí. In the beginning of the same chapter, the Báb also says that no miracles other than the verses of God should be ascribed to him. Initially the sixth Imam Ja‘far al-Sádiq had nominated his son Ismá‘íl as his successor. When Ismá‘íl died before his father, another son, Músá al-Kázim, was declared his successor. Since Imams are generally thought to have been appointed by God himself before creation came into being, and are also perceived of as omniscient and free from error, the matter caused confusion among the believers. The Báb’s very claim was an example of badá’ and a core issue of early Bábí (and Bahá’í) apologetics. Twelver Shi‘a believe that the Twelfth Imam went into occultation in the year 260 ah (873–4 ce), his life being mysteriously prolonged by God until the day when he shall come forth again and destroy the non-believers. Practically speaking, the Báb could not be the Qá’im because he was born and raised in Shiraz in the 19th century and was not a thousand years old. The Báb himself explained this as badá’. Generally, all prophecies could be rendered as naught by God if he wished to do so. See Sharh Hadíth Abí Labíd (in Browne Collection F21), p. 14. It seems that Ahsá’í had already paved the way for this interpretation of the Qá’im’s existence. According to him, the Promised One was currently in the world of archetypal forms (al‑suwar), which means that he could appear practically in any body (cf. Sharh al‑ Ziyárah, vol. 1, p. 77). The Promised One to him was the ‘repository of the secret of 244 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. a most noble pattern badá’’ (ibid. p. 319). Ahsá’í was possibly himself inspired by hadith reports like the following: ‘‘Abú Ja‘far said: . . . If we tell you about a matter and it happens as we said, say: “God speaks the truth (sadaqa’Alláh)”. And if we tell you about a matter and it happens contrary to what we said, [still] say “God speaks the truth” and ye shall be rewarded twice.’ A footnote says, ‘Once for belief, once for accepting badá’’ (alKulayní, al‑Usúl min al‑Káfí, vol. 1, pp. 367ff.). The Bábís derived that number from the Arabic word Mustagháth, which the Báb mentions in connection with the Promised One in a few instances. Cf. 3:15, 7:10. The numerical equivalent of this word is 2001. However this is a rather arbitrary interpretation of the Báb’s statements, since he does not at all imply that this was to be the date for the Promised One’s arrival. Rather, he made it abundantly clear that the Promised One’s revelation was bound by no restriction whatsoever. In Islam new converts from religious minorities were labeled ‘new to Islam (jadíd al‑ Islámí)’, thus ranking them somewhat lower than others who were already born into Islam or had a long family tradition in that faith. The source for this quotation is a letter by the Báb, printed as an appendix to Gulpáyigání’s Kashf al‑Ghitá’ ‘an Hiyal al‑A‘dá’. Another manuscript can be found in Folder 21 of the E. G. Browne Collection. The English text reads Vahíd for Váhid, which has been corrected here. Some Bahá’ís believe that the Báb intentionally designed his laws to be severe and virtually impracticable, so that Bábís would not cling to them and soon realize their symbolic character as well as the need for a new revelation. These numbers equal the words Allah (66) and Rabb (202) or Muhammad-‘Alí (202), the name of the Báb. The same is true of Islam. Although the Qur’an enjoins obligatory prayer on the believers, detailed provisions are not found in it. Therefore, there are considerable differences between the prayer rites of diverse Islamic sects. In addition to rituals, the Báb has laid down a number of further provisions such as a new currency. For details see Persian Bayán 5:19. The following quotation of Bahá’u’lláh points at the reformist potential inherent in the Báb’s Revelation: ‘If these obstructing veils had not intervened Persia would, in some two years, have been subdued through the power of utterance, the position of both the government and the people would have been raised . . . Thus, once Persia had been rehabilitated, the sweet savours of the Word of God would have wafted over all countries, inasmuch as that which hath streamed forth from the Most Exalted Pen is conducive to the glory, the advancement and education of all the peoples and kindreds of the earth. Indeed it is the sovereign remedy for every disease, could they but comprehend and perceive it’ (Kalimát-i Firdawsiyyih in Bahá’u’lláh, Tablets, p. 73 (6:43)). The word translated here as ‘power of utterance’ is ‘Bayán’ and thus probably refers to the Báb’s dispensation, a fact that might not be gained from reading the English translation. The only reference known to the present writer is found in the late Haykal al-Dín (8:7). There the Báb says that women should not be forced to hide their hair when saying their obligatory prayer. In contrast, a passage from Shaykh Fadl Alláh Núrí, a conservative 19th-century cleric who strongly opposed the constitutional movement and was eventually executed, comes to mind. In present-day Iran he is revered by the government as a martyr and a ‘forerunner’. In his Lawá’ih (p. 28) he writes about the constitutionalists: ‘Now we have all seen with our own eyes that from the beginning of the establishment of this parliament a group of . . . unbelievers (lá madhhab), which were earlier known to have been Bábís . . . have come into motion . . . And a number of newspapers and pamphlets have appeared, most of them including insults against the great learned and undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 245 the laws of Islam. And [in which it is stated] that changes to this sharia must be made . . . such as allowing for intoxicants, spread of sexual immorality and establishing schools for women and girls . . .’ That he should see the establishment of schools for girls as tantamount to spreading immorality is revealing. Eleven was fixed as the age of maturity in the dispensation of the Báb. For a detailed introduction to the general state of society during the time of the Báb’s ministry see Amanat, Resurrection and Renewal, especially the first part (pp. 1–108). For general theological developments and the rise to power of the clergy referred to on the following pages, see Momen, Introduction to Shi‘i Islam, especially pp. 130ff.; Halm, Die Schi‘a, especially pp. 132ff. An example that reveals the state of mind as well as the degree of veneration some Qajar monarchs entertained for high-ranking clerics can be seen in Fath-‘Alí Sháh’s behaviour towards and his letters to Shaykh Ahmad al-Ahsá’í. The monarch’s main interest seems to have revolved around the ‘quality of intercourse in the hereafter’. See Ahsá’í’s response in Rasá’il al‑Hikmah, pp. 91ff. The example of the second Perso-Russian war shows how the ulama used their influence to virtually force the rather unwilling Iranian government into a disastrous war that led to great financial as well as territorial loss. One example was Muhammad-Báqir Shaftí in Isfahan. This attitude is reflected in Khomeini’s statement in his early Kashf‑i Asrár, p. 107. According to him, the Prophet Muhammad ‘has brought several divine ordinances and heavenly commands for going to the toilet [sic!], for being alone with a woman and for giving milk to a child. There is no little or big matter that He has not given instructions for.’ To use ‘Alí Sharí‘atí’s terminology alluded to earlier, the label ‘Safavid Islam’ would be used to describe this religious paradigm. In The Secret of Divine Civilization and even more in his Risálih‑yi Síyásiyyih, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá determined the clerics’ interference in politics to be responsible for the miserable state of affairs in Iran. The term ulama, though literally meaning ‘knowing’ or ‘learned’, is more likely used here by the Báb as a terminus technicus, common amongst Muslims to describe the divines. The hadith the Báb is alluding to is attributed to the Twelfth Imam and generally quoted by Shi‘i clerics to support their claim to authority. See Mahmúdí, Mabání‑i Istinbát‑i Huqúq‑i Islámí, p. 14n. The passage reads in full: ‘Regarding matters that will happen (al‑hawádith al‑wáqi‘ah) turn to those who transmit our hadith. For verily, they are my proof over you and I am the Proof of God over you.’ The various theological disputes that surround this view cannot be discussed here. That neither the ulama as a whole nor a certain group but rather their most noble (afdal) representative is to exercise supreme authority is in any case a late development. It forms the doctrinal foundation of the current Iranian state form. An interesting question is whether and to what extent Khomeini-ist doctrine was influenced by the Shaykhi teaching of the Fourth Support. A passage in Ahsá’í’s Hayát al‑Nafs, in Jawámi‘al‑Kalim, vol. 1, pt. 1, pp. 7f.) describing the qualities of the supreme representative bears great resemblance with Khomeini-ist doctrine. See also Sharh az‑Ziyárah, vol. 1, p. 34. It is most probably for this reason, rather than for his obscure speculations about resurrection and the Prophet’s night journey (al‑isrá’), that Shaykh Ahmad al-Ahsá’í was declared an infidel and his later adherents faced severe persecution on behalf of Usúlí clerics. Ahsá’í’s (and later Rashtí’s) claim was to be in regular contact with the Imams. Thus they were allegedly able to meet them in dreams and visions and to receive guidance from them whenever they wished. Ahsá’í showed open disregard for the mechanisms of Usúlí hierarchy. In his short autobiography he mentioned none of 246 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. a most noble pattern the seven regular ijázahs he had received by prominent clerics but rather based his claim on a ‘paper’ signed by all 12 Imams and handed over to him in a dream. For details see Eschraghi, Frühe Shaikhi‑ und Bábí‑Theologie, pp. 35–9; MacEoin, From Shaykhism to Babism, p. 56. Apart from the fifth, the Báb later removed another lucrative source of income for many ulama: he prohibited selling stones, sand and other relics of holy places. Further, selling land around holy sites was not allowed. Persian Bayán 4:13, 17. They echo the Imam Husayn’s words shortly before his martyrdom: ‘Is there no one who will assist me [in fighting the infidels]?’ The Báb called for jihad only at a time when chances were unrealistic. When his followers were assembled in Karbala to wage the apocalyptic battle between the forces of good and evil, he changed his initial plan to go there. The reason for this, as he says in several letters from that time, was that he did not want any bloodshed to occur. See for example his letter to ‘Abd al-Kháliq Yazdí, in Afnán, ‘Ahd‑i A‘lá, p. 184. For a discussion of the Báb’s attitude towards and specific understanding of jihad see Eschraghi, Frühe Shaikhi‑ und Bábí‑Theologie, pp. 166–9. The Kirmání Shaykhi leader Karím Khán, a contemporary and fierce enemy of the Báb, wrote in one of his several refutations: ‘During the period of the Greater Occultation, according to the unanimous verdict of the learned, there is no jihad. And no learned has permission to draw a sword and fight jihad and gather forces . . . This is another proof of his [the Báb’s] blasphemy (kufr)’ (Karím Khán, Risálih‑yi Radd‑i Báb‑i Khusrán Ma’áb, p. 28). Mubáhalah serves to establish the truth of a claim in the presence of witnesses. Conditions can be miracles or plainly calling God’s curse upon the opponent. Muhammad is said to have done this during his own time. The practice is also attested to in the Old Testament (I Kings 18:17ff.). In the Báb’s writings mubáhalah is confined to producing verses, prayers and treatises. An exception, also known to Bahá’ís, is the Prayer for the Dead. Khomeini took this dogma to a further extreme when he declared it unlawful even to report crimes to secular state authorities. If someone reported a theft to the police of a non-Islamic state, then the thief found and the item returned, the item stolen was still unlawful to its original possessor simply because it was obtained through ‘illegal’ channels (Hukúmat‑i Islámí, republished as Viláyat‑i Faqíh, Tehran 1361ah/1942–3, p. 84). The little education the average citizen would receive was equally controlled by the ulama since the only institutions for learning during that time were madrasas. From the passages in question one can conclude that the Báb mainly targeted the kind of fruitless hairsplitting that was prevalent amongst the learned, such as whether jinn (spirits, ghosts, demons) were male or female and whether one could have sexual intercourse with them, or how Siamese twins were to observe the religious rituals and whether such rituals were binding on other planets. In addition, theological discussions that had preoccupied the minds of philosophers for centuries and sometimes even led to bloodshed were possibly among the subjects the Báb had in mind, such as whether God knows only essentials or particulars as well, whether the Word of God is created or eternal, etc. In any case, in issuing these general condemnations he uttered yet another strong provocation against the ulama. Apparently, at a later stage even the books of Ahsá’í and Rashtí were included in this provision. That was when influential Shaykhi ulama proved to be among the fiercest enemies of the new Faith. Karím Khán Kirmání quotes a letter attributed to the Báb in which study of the Sharh al‑Qasídah and other central Shaykhi works is prohibited. See Risálih‑yi Radd‑i Báb‑i Khusrán Ma’áb, pp. 43–4. It is unclear whether the Báb actually called for the physical destruction of books or merely meant that they should undermining the foundations of orthodoxy 247 be deemed obsolete. In the Arabic Bayán (9:13), at any rate, he prohibited the physical destruction of any book whatsoever. 51. There is only one verse in the Qur’an (9:28) that calls ‘idol-worshippers unclean (najas)’ and demands that they be kept out of mosques. No trace of the detailed instructions for ritual purity later developed by Shi‘i theologians can be found in the Qur’an. 52. Even today all higher ranking Shi‘i ulama write a ‘thesis’, usually called ‘Answers to Questions (Tawdíh al‑Masá’il)’. A major part of these is dedicated to laws of najásah and tahárah. Bahá’u’lláh at any rate has quite clearly abrogated the whole notion of ritual uncleanliness in verse 75 of his Most Holy Book.