Declaration of the Bab, Essay

Essay Written on the Declaration of the Bab


By John Taylor; 23 May, 2004



Last night Mullah Husayn discovered the hidden Imam and more than the Hidden Imam. He stumbled against a gate that swiveled open the first Unit of a whole new Era. Who was Mullah Husayn? Suffice to say, we believe that without his contribution, merit, discovery and eventual sacrifice there would have been no Baha'i Faith, just as there would have been no Christianity without Paul. Both were human but had a unique, pivotal role and station.

In the reckoning of time, our year starts in the solar advent of spring; spiritually it tees off with this great renewal, two declarations, one after the other, though the last came first and the first last. These two great annunciations -- "Now hear this. God is here. That is all." -- of the Baha'i Era take place in our year before the first four of its nineteen month year have passed. The Declaration of the Bab takes place 65 days after Naw Ruz, the year's Day One in the Baha'i or Badi' Calendar. Ridvan begins 31 days afterwards, thus leaving 22 days, a little more than one 19 day Badi' month, between the end of Ridvan, Baha'u'llah's Declaration, and the event we celebrate today, the Declaration of the Bab (the formula being 65-(31+12)).

In actual chronology, of course, the Bab's declaration took place first, almost two decades or in Badi' measure one Vahid before Ridvan. He declared, that is, nineteen years before the first Ridvan of 1863, in 1844 CE, or Year One BE. The two declarations are separated by the space of one 19 year Vahid (unit, or cycle of years) in the Badi system of reckoning, less that 22 days.

The two declarations, that is, pounded out the first divinely sanctioned way of reckoning years. In a similar way Genesis compresses all of creation, from prehistory to now, into the first of its units, the seven day week. The declaration of the Bab inaugurated the first year, and Ridvan gave the whole era a local habitation and a name, the Baha'i Era, BE. The Bab named each of the 19 years of the Vahid cycle, just as he named the weeks and the months, after divine virtues. Only one year of the Vahid has the same name as a month, Baha, year number nine, month number one. The name of year 19 of the Vahid is, logically enough, "Vahid." Our books translate Vahid as "unity," but I was assured by a scholar at the Institute for Persian Studies that "unit" is a more adequate translation. Either way, the divine virtue of Vahid seems to refer to God's ability to sum up all things into a single unit or unity, or whatever.

In that first, formative nineteen year Vahid (pronounced "V ah head," not to be confused with Vheed, Vahid, the learned disciple of the Bab) separating the two great declarations, we can expect that the sun of revelation rose in the sky and its force grew much stronger. One unit stronger, maybe. The Bab was the sun dipping over the horizon and Baha'u'llah was the sun, well, higher in the sky. Maybe after the half million years of the Baha'i Era have run their course somebody will be able to say exactly how much higher the sun rose during that first Vahid.

This waxing of force seems to be reflected in the stories of how the two holy occasions played out. The Declaration of the Bab, which we celebrated two hours and 11 minutes after sunset last night, seems characterized by mystery. Reading through the account of Mullah Husayn's fateful evening, one is struck by the strong element of suspense and resolution. It is as if the story of religion were one big mystery novel and that meeting on that street of Shiraz was the beginning of an answer. Even where they met is shrouded in mystery, since Dawnbreakers contradicts itself, as B-- remarked at our meeting last night. The text says they met in the street outside the gate of the city (p. 52) but the caption to a picture of a room in the Masjid-i-Ikhani says that they met there (p. 53). A further mystery: was she, of all the people that have been and are reading this history, the first person to notice that?

Wherever it was that they actually met, they soon returned, the Bab and the Babu'l-Bab, to the home of the Bab, thus setting up a guest-host relationship between them. This is an important relationship everywhere, but especially in Muslim lands; it actually supercedes the literally repulsive notions of ritual uncleanness prevalent among Muslims. No matter how filthy an infidel you are, you are still welcomed into a desert home and treated with great deference. As the Bab Himself points out, these strictures of hospitality saved Mullah Husayn at one point, when the guest presumed to test his Host. There is a mystery in that.

Another thing I noticed as we were reading through the story once again last night was that time for both the Gate and the Gate's Gate was regulated by the five Muslim obligatory prayers. The only reason Mullah Husayn remembered that the declaration took place at exactly 2 hours and eleven minutes after sunset was that they had performed the ablutions and evening obligatory prayer together at the required time, near sunset. Prayer and time regulated one another and made events memorable, even when the supreme revelation was turning time and calendration upside down and renewing it according to Badi', meaning an innovation, inspiration or what some Christians call a personal "dispensation."

But as I was saying, mystery and the resolution of a mystery were characteristic of this first declaration of our Era. Mullah Husayn was, according to the Covenant of God, the most qualified person in the world to find the solution to the puzzle of religion. For one thing, he was a Shiih or Twelver Muslim, a religion that emphasizes the aristocratic element of faith.

Imagine, if you will, how different Christianity would have been if Jesus had married and His descendents were known and walking among us. Yet Shiism is founded upon just that, the living and reproducing family of the Prophet, called Siyyids or "chiefs." Their most cherished belief, shared by Baha'is, is that the family of God's Prophet is by that very fact the most worthy and qualified group of aristocrats in the world. Who could ever be greater than the Messenger of God, or more privileged than a member of His family? Other aristocrats may have qualifications, but nothing like this. God Himself picked the Siyyids out. No human election or testing, or even luck, could ever top that merit! A government run by them would be the meritocracy of meritocracies.

In Islam, the Prophet, to make things even tougher, became the head of state during His own lifetime. It was no longer a matter of prestige for his family but royal power. His twelve lineal descendents are considered in Shiism to be the only truly legitimate successors to the leadership of Islam. Similarly, Britons regard the house of Windsor to be the only family from which legitimate kings can chosen. Yet this succession of spiritual kings called "Imams" ended in the twelfth of them, a once and future king whose demise was shrouded in mystery or "occultation." Shiihs look for the return of that Twelfth Imam in the same way Jews await the Messiah and Christians the return of Christ.

As I said, in a sense Mullah Husayn was the most qualified from the point of view of credentials. He was not only a Shiih, but the logical successor to the most recent and advanced school of Shiih Islam, Shaykhism, headed by Siyyid Kazim and Shaykh Ahmad before him. But instead of passing the ball to the learned Husayn, Kazim posed for him a quest, a holy mystery for him to solve. He offered a whole series of clues, many very specific. Mullah Husayn had to use all his spiritual savvy to find the answer on that street, or was it in that room of the Masjid? in the city of Shiraz. At the end of His quest was a Siyyid, the ultimate Aristocrat, a family member chosen again by God.

For Mullah Husayn his quest was no idle mystery tour excursion; it was a matter of life or death. It is evident from some of the asides in Nabil's account that like the Ancient Mariner, Mullah Husayn told the story of the encounter that night whenever he had the chance until the end of his days. He often stops his story to describe his own reactions. It was the heaviness of his burden, confided not to the Bab but silently in the obligatory prayer they were saying together, that initially prompted the process of Declaration in the first place.


"Whilst praying, I unburdened my soul, which was much oppressed, both by the mystery of this interview and the strain and stress of my search." (55-6)


The questioning and revelation of verses by the Bab that followed after his prayer lasted until just before he noted the time of the declaration. "I sat enraptured by the magic of His voice and the sweeping force of His revelation." (61) His hands were trembling and he was so moved that, as the Bab Himself remarked, he could not have walked the streets without being thought a madman. His story enflamed Babis he met personally and continues to light new torches every 22nd of May.

So when I say though that Mullah Husayn was the most qualified, I don't mean just by learning or background. I mean mostly his ardor, for the mark of his declaration was personal passion for the Key to God. At Ridvan we elect those who will undertake institutional measures to make us real believers.


"The members of the Spiritual Meeting must endeavor, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to make the souls real Baha'is." (Abdu'l-Baha, Baha'i World Faith, 411)


But at the Declaration of the Bab, we choose that part of ourselves that is elect, that will do that to the self. In this sense, earned merit confronts aristocratic merit, as it did when Husayn met Ali Muhammad, the Bab. This invisible election chooses the Aristos within, the feeling part of the soul; it flames out today in a spreading conflagration from person to person, from Mullah Husayn to all born in sincere belief.