“Bábism had many adepts in all classes of society, and many among them were of important standing; great lords, members of the clergy, military men and merchants had accepted this doctrine.”
(Journal Asiatique, 1866, tome 8, p. 251; Footnotes to chapter 9 provided by Shoghi Effendi)
These precautionary measures which the Báb deemed wise to undertake, relieved Him from the immediate danger of violence from the infuriated people of Shíráz, and served to lend a fresh impetus to the propagation of His Faith beyond the limits of that city. His disciples, who had spread throughout the length and breadth of the country, fearlessly proclaimed to the multitude of their countrymen the regenerating power of the new-born Revelation. The fame of the Báb had been noised abroad and had reached the ears of those who held the highest seats of authority, both in the capital and throughout the provinces. A wave of passionate enquiry swayed the minds and hearts of both the leaders and the masses of the people. Amazement and wonder had seized those who had heard from the lips of the immediate messengers of the Báb the tales of those signs and testimonies which had heralded the birth of His Manifestation. The dignitaries of State and Church either attended in person or delegated their ablest representatives to enquire into the truth and character of this remarkable Movement.
(Chapter 9, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
He [the Báb] likewise dismissed the rest of His companions who had gathered in Shíráz, and bade them return to Isfáhán. He retained Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím, to whom He assigned the duty of transcribing His writings.
(Chapter 9, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Soon after the arrival of Mullá Husayn at Shíráz, the voice of the people rose again in protest against him. The fear and indignation of the multitude were excited by the knowledge of his continued and intimate intercourse with the Báb. “He again has come to our city,” they clamoured; “he again has raised the standard of revolt and is, together with his chief, contemplating a still fiercer onslaught upon our time-honoured institutions.” So grave and menacing became the situation that the Báb instructed Mullá Ḥusayn to regain, by way of Yazd, his native province of Khurásán.
(Chapter 9, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
In the course of his [Siyyid Ismá’íl-i-Zavari’í, surnamed Dhabíh] conversation with Mírzá Fathu’llah and me, he related to us the account of Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím’s marvellous experience. I was seized with an ardent desire to meet him. When I subsequently arrived at Tihrán and met Siyyid Ismá’íl in the Madrisiy-i-Daru’sh-Shafay-i-Masjid-i-Sháh, I was introduced by him to this same Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím, who was then living in that same madrisih. In those days we were informed that the struggle of Shaykh Tabarsí had come to an end, and that those companions of the Báb who had gathered in Tihrán and were contemplating joining their brethren had each returned to his own province unable to achieve his goal. Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím remained in the capital, where he devoted his time to transcribing the Persian Bayán. My close association with him at that time served to deepen my love and admiration for him. I still feel, after the lapse of eight and thirty years since our first interview in Tihrán, the warmth of his friendship and the fervour of his faith. My feelings of affectionate regard for him prompted me to dwell at length upon the circumstances of his early life, culminating in what may be regarded as the turning point of his whole career. May it in turn serve to awaken the reader to the glory of this momentous Revelation.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
In the early days of the year 1265 A.H., I set out, at the age of eighteen, from my native village of Zarand for Qum, where I chanced to meet Siyyid Ismá’íl-i-Zavari’í, surnamed Dhabíh, who later on, while in Baghdád, offered up his life as a sacrifice in the path of Bahá’u’lláh. Through him I was led to recognise the new Revelation. He was then preparing to leave for Mázindarán and had determined to join the heroic defenders of the fort of Shaykh Tabarsí. He had intended to take me with him, together with Mírzá Fatḥu’llah-i-Hakkak, a lad of my age, who was a resident of Qum. As circumstances interfered with his plan, he promised before his departure that he would communicate with us from Tihrán and would ask us to join him.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
One night after their expulsion from Shíráz, the Báb, who was visiting the home of Hájí Mírzá Siyyid ‘Alí, where He had summoned to meet Him Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alíy-i-Nahrí, Mírzá Hádí, and Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím-i-Qazvíní, turned suddenly to the last-named and said: “‘Abdu’l-Karím, are you seeking the Manifestation?” These words, uttered with calm and extreme gentleness, had a startling effect upon him. He paled at this sudden interrogation and burst into tears. He threw himself at the feet of the Báb in a state of profound agitation. The Báb took him lovingly in His arms, kissed his forehead, and invited him to be seated by His side. In a tone of tender affection, He succeeded in appeasing the tumult of his heart.
As soon as they had regained their home, Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alí and his brother enquired of Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím the reason for the violent perturbation which had suddenly seized him. “Hear me,” he answered; “I will relate to you the tale of a strange experience, a tale which I have shared with no one until now. When I attained the age of maturity, I felt, while I lived in Qazvín, a profound yearning to unravel the mystery of God and to apprehend the nature of His saints and prophets. Nothing short of the acquisition of learning, I realised, could enable me to achieve my goal. I succeeded in obtaining the consent of my father and uncles to the abandonment of my business, and plunged immediately into study and research. I occupied a room in one of the madrisihs of Qazvín, and concentrated my efforts on the acquisition of every available branch of human learning. I often discussed the knowledge which I acquired with my fellow-disciples, and sought by this means to enrich my experience. At night, I would retire to my home, and, in the seclusion of my library, would devote many an hour to undisturbed study. I was so immersed in my labours that I grew indifferent to both sleep and hunger. Within two years I had resolved to master the intricacies of Muslim jurisprudence and theology. I was a faithful attendant at the lectures given by Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím-i-Iravání, who, in those days, ranked as the most outstanding divine of Qazvín. I greatly admired his vast erudition, his piety and virtue. Every night during the period that I was his disciple, I devoted my time to the writing of a treatise which I submitted to him and which he revised with care and interest. He seemed to be greatly pleased with my progress, and often extolled my high attainments. One day, in the presence of his assembled disciples, he declared: ‘The learned and sagacious Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím has qualified himself to expound authoritatively the sacred Scriptures of Islám. He no longer needs to attend either my classes or those of my equals. I shall, please God, celebrate his elevation to the rank of a mujtahid on the morning of the coming Friday, and will deliver his certificate to him after the congregational prayer.’
The first group to reach the city and meet the Báb, a few days after the arrival of Mullá Husayn, consisted of Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alíy-i-Nahrí, Mírzá Hádí, his brother; Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím-i-Qazvíní, Mullá Javád-i-Baraghání, Mullá ‘Abdu’l-‘Alíy-i-Haratí, and Mírzá Ibráhím-i-Shírází. In the course of their association with Him, the last three of the group gradually betrayed their blindness of heart and demonstrated the baseness of their character. The manifold evidences of the Báb’s increasing favour towards Mullá Husayn aroused their anger and excited the smouldering fire of their jealousy. In their impotent rage, they resorted to the abject weapons of fraud and of calumny. Unable at first to manifest openly their hostility to Mullá Husayn, they sought by every crafty device to beguile the minds and damp the affections of his devoted admirers. Their unseemly behaviour alienated the sympathy of the believers and precipitated their separation from the company of the faithful. Expelled by their very acts from the bosom of the Faith, they leagued themselves with its avowed enemies and proclaimed their utter rejection of its claims and principles. So great was the mischief which they stirred up among the people of that city that they were eventually expelled by the civil authorities, who alike despised and feared their plottings. The Báb has in a Tablet, in which He expatiates upon their machinations and misdeeds, compared them to the calf of the Samírí, the calf that had neither voice nor soul, which was both the abject handiwork and the object of the adoration of a wayward people. “May Thy condemnation, O God!” He wrote, with reference to Mullá Javád and Mullá ‘Abdu’l-‘Alí, “rest upon the Jibt and Tághút, [Qur’án, 4:50] the twin idols of this perverse people.” All three subsequently proceeded to Kirmán and joined forces with Hájí Mírzá Muhammad Karím Khán, whose designs they furthered and the vehemence of whose denunciations they strove to reinforce.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Soon after this, He gave permission to His companions who had gathered in Isfáhán, to leave gradually for Shíráz, and there to wait until it should be feasible for Him to meet them. He cautioned them to exercise the utmost vigilance, instructed them to enter, a few at a time, the gate of the city, and bade them disperse, immediately upon their arrival, into such quarters as were reserved for travellers, and accept whatever employment they could find.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
As he approached its gate, he instructed his brother to proceed in the dead of night to the house of the Báb’s maternal uncle and to request him to inform the Báb of his arrival. Mullá Husayn received, the next day, the welcome news that Hájí Mírzá Siyyid ‘Alí was expecting him an hour after sunset outside the gate of the city. Mullá Husayn met him at the appointed hour and was conducted to his home. Several times at night did the Báb honour that house with His presence, and continue in close association with Mullá Husayn until the break of day.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
A few days after their arrival [in Isfahan], there reached them the news that Shíráz was in a state of violent agitation, that all manner of intercourse with the Báb had been forbidden, and that their projected visit to that city would be fraught with the gravest danger. Mullá Ḥusayn, quite undaunted by this sudden intelligence, decided to proceed to Shíráz. He acquainted only a few of his trusted companions with his intention. Discarding his robes and turban, and wearing the jubbih [coat] and kuláh [hat] of the people of Khurásán, he, disguising himself as a horseman of Hizárih and Quchán and accompanied by his brother and nephew, set out at an unexpected hour for the city of his Beloved.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Mullá Husayn decided to join the company of his friends and to proceed with them to Isfáhán. Travelling alone, at about a farsakh’s [about 3 to 4 miles] distance in advance of his companions, he, as soon as he paused at nightfall to offer his prayer, would be overtaken by them and would, in their company, complete his devotions. He would be the first to resume the journey, and would again be joined by that devoted band at the hour of dawn, when he once more would break his march to offer his prayer. Only when pressed by his friends would he consent to observe the congregational form of worship. On such occasions he would sometimes follow the lead of one of his companions. Such was the devotion which he had kindled in those hearts that a number of his fellow-travellers would dismount from their steeds and, offering them to those who were journeying on foot, would themselves follow him, utterly indifferent to the strain and fatigues of the march.
As they approached the outskirts of Isfáhán, Mullá Husayn, fearing that the sudden entry of so large a group of people might excite the curiosity and suspicion of its inhabitants, advised those who were travelling with him to disperse and to enter the gates in small and inconspicuous numbers.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
I have heard Mírzá Aḥmad-i-Katib, better known in those days as Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím, who had been the travelling companion of Mullá Javád from Qazvín, relate the following: “Mullá Javád often alluded in his conversation with me to Mullá Ḥusayn. His repeated and disparaging remarks, couched in artful language, impelled me to cease my association with him. Every time I determined to sever my intercourse with Mullá Javád, I was prevented by Mullá Ḥusayn, who, discovering my intention, counselled me to exercise forbearance towards him. Mullá Ḥusayn’s association with the loyal companions of the Báb greatly added to their zeal and enthusiasm. They were edified by his example and were lost in admiration for the brilliant qualities of mind and heart which distinguished so eminent a fellow-disciple.”
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Mullá Husayn, who, while in that city [Kangavar], led the companions of the Báb in the Friday congregational prayer, was held in such esteem and reverence by his fellow-disciples that a number of those present, who later on, in Shíráz, revealed their disloyalty to the Faith, were moved with envy. Among them were Mullá Javád-i-Baraghání and Mullá ‘Abdu’l-‘Alíy-i-Haratí, both of whom feigned submission to the Revelation of the Báb in the hope of satisfying their ambition for leadership. They both strove secretly to undermine the enviable position achieved by Mullá Husayn. Through their hints and insinuations, they persistently endeavoured to challenge his authority and disgrace his name.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
On their way to Isfáhán they met, in the city of Kangavar, Mullá Husayn with his brother and nephew, who were his companions on his previous visit to Shíráz, and who were proceeding to Karbilá. They were greatly delighted by this unexpected encounter, and requested Mullá Husayn to prolong his stay in Kangavar, with which request he readily complied.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Soon after Naw-Rúz, an epistle reached them by way of Basrih, in which the Báb, who had intended to return from Hijáz to Persia by way of Karbilá, informed them of the change in His plan and of His consequent inability to fulfil His promise. He directed them to proceed to Isfáhán and remain there until the receipt of further instructions. “Should it be deemed advisable,” He added, “We shall request you to proceed to Shíráz; if not, tarry in Isfáhán until such time as God may make known to you His will and guidance.”
The receipt of this unexpected intelligence created a considerable stir among those who had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Báb at Karbilá. It agitated their minds and tested their loyalty. “What of His promise to us?” whispered a few of the discontented among them. “Does He regard the breaking of His pledge as the interposition of the will of God?” The others, unlike those waverers, became more steadfast in their faith and clung with added determination to the Cause. Faithful to their Master, they joyously responded to His invitation, ignoring entirely the criticisms and protestations of those who had faltered in their faith. They set out for Isfáhán, determined to abide by whatsoever might be the will and desire of their Beloved. They were joined by a few of their companions, who, though gravely shaken in their belief, concealed their feelings. Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alíy-i-Nahrí, whose daughter was subsequently joined in wedlock with the Most Great Branch, and Mírzá Hádí, the brother of Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alí, both residents of Isfáhán, were among those companions whose vision of the glory and sublimity of the Faith the expressed misgivings of the evil whisperers had failed to obscure. Among them, too, was a certain Muhammad-i-Haná-Sab, also a resident of Iṣfáhán, who is now serving in the home of Bahá’u’lláh. A number of these staunch companions of the Báb participated in the great struggle of Shaykh Tabarsí and miraculously escaped the tragic fate of their fallen brethren.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
“These ethics taught by a young man at an age when passions were intense, deeply impressed an audience, religious to the point of fanaticism, above all when the words of the preacher were in perfect harmony with his conduct. No one doubted the continence and the firmness of Karbilá’í Siyyid ‘Alí-Muhammad; he spoke little, meditated constantly and most of the time fled from the presence of men, which all the more aroused their curiosity. He was sought after everywhere.”
…..
“By the uprightness of his life the young Siyyid served as an example to those about him. He was willingly listened to when, in his ambiguous and interrupted talks, he condemned the abuses evident in all classes of society. His words were repeated and elaborated upon and they spoke of him as the true Master and gave themselves to him unreservedly.”
(Journal Asiatique, 1866, tome 7, p. 341; Footnotes to chapter 8 provided by Shoghi Effendi)
“Be that as it may, the resultant impression was immense in Shíráz and all the learned and religious gathered around ‘Alí-Muhammad. As soon as he appeared in the Mosque, they surrounded him and, as soon as he was seated in the pulpit, everyone was silent in order to listen to him. His public talks never attacked the essentials of the Faith of Islám, they respected most of its ritual; in fact, the Kitman dominated. Nevertheless, they were daring discourses. The clergy was not spared; its vices were cruelly lashed. The sad and painful destiny of humanity was generally the theme. Here and there, certain allusions, the obscurity of which irritated the passions of some while it flattered the pride of others already initiated as a whole or only in part, gave to his prophecies such a bitter truth that the crowd was growing day by day and so, in all Persia, they were beginning to talk of ‘Alí-Muhammad.
“The Mullás of Shíráz had not waited for all this agitation to unite against this young detractor. From his first public appearances, they sent to him their most able Mullás to argue with him and confuse him, and these public debates were held either in the Mosques or in the colleges in the presence of the Governor, the military chiefs, the clergy, the people, in fact before everyone. But, instead of benefiting the clergy, they contributed quite a little to spread and exalt, at their own expense, the renown of this enthusiastic teacher. It is a fact that he defeated his adversaries, he condemned them—which was not very difficult—with the Qur’án in hand. It was an easy matter for him to show before all these crowds who knew the Mullás well, at which point their conduct, their precepts, and to what extent their beliefs, even their theology, were in flagrant contradiction with the Book, which they could not deny.
The Naw-Rúz of that year, which heralded the advent of a new springtime, was also symbolic of that spiritual rebirth, the first stirring of which could already be discerned throughout the length and breadth of the land. A number of the most eminent and learned among the people of that country emerged from the wintry desolation of heedlessness, and were quickened by the reviving breath of the new-born Revelation. The seeds which the Hand of Omnipotence had implanted in their hearts germinated into blossoms of the purest and loveliest fragrance.
As the breeze of His loving-kindness and tender mercy wafted over these blossoms, the penetrating power of their perfume spread far and wide over the face of all that land. It diffused itself even beyond the confines of Persia. It reached Karbilá and reanimated the souls of those who were waiting in expectation for the return of the Báb to their city.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
The Báb regained His home and for some time was able to lead, in the privacy of His house, and in close association with His family and kinsmen, a life of comparative tranquillity. In those days He celebrated the advent of the first Naw-Rúz since He had declared His Mission. That festival fell, in that year, on the tenth day of the month of Rabí’u’l-Avval, 1261 A.H. [March 1845]
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
And yet another of those who felt the fascination of the Báb on that day was the late Hájí Muhammad-Bisat, a man well-versed in the metaphysical teachings of Islám and a great admirer of both Shaykh Ahmad and Siyyid Kázim. He was of a kindly disposition and was gifted with a keen sense of humour. He had won the friendship of the Imám-Jum’ih, was intimately associated with him, and was a faithful attendant at the Friday congregational prayer.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Hájí Abu’l-Hasan-i-Bazzaz, who, as a fellow-traveller of the Báb during His pilgrimage to Hijáz, had but dimly recognised the overpowering majesty of His Mission, was, on that memorable Friday, profoundly shaken and completely transformed. He bore the Báb such love that tears of an overpowering devotion continually flowed from his eyes. All who knew him admired the uprightness of his conduct and praised his benevolence and candour. He, as well as his two sons, has proved by his deeds the tenacity of his faith, and has won the esteem of his fellow-believers.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Among them also was Mírzá Rahím-i-Khabbaz, who distinguished himself by his fearlessness and fiery ardour. He relaxed not in his efforts until the hour of his death.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
Still another was Mírzá Áqáy-i-Rikáb-Sáz. He became so enamoured of the Báb on that day that no persecution, however severe and prolonged, was able either to shake his convictions or to obscure the radiance of his love. He, too, attained the presence of Bahá’u’lláh in ‘Iráq. In answer to the questions which he asked regarding the interpretation of the Disconnected Letters of the Qur’án and the meaning of the Verse of Núr, he was favoured with an expressly written Tablet revealed by the pen of Bahá’u’lláh. In His path he eventually suffered martyrdom.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)
A certain Muhammad-Karím who was among the congregation that Friday was likewise attracted by the Báb’s remarkable behaviour on that occasion. What he saw and heard on that day brought about his immediate conversion. Persecution drove him out of Persia to ‘Iráq, where, in the presence of Bahá’u’lláh, he continually deepened his understanding and faith. Later on he was bidden by Him to return to Shíráz and to endeavour to the best of his ability to propagate the Cause. There he remained and laboured to the end of his life.
(Chapter 8, ‘The Dawn-Breakers’)