Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Article to commemorate the Martyrdom of the Bab

Here is an article written by Bill Sears not long after he became a Baha'i. It was also a pamphlet and was reproduced in The Baha'i World as one of several articles commemorating the centennary of the Martyrdom of the Bab in 1953. Most of this material was later included in his longer popular history, Release the Sun.

John Taylor


The Martyr Prophet of a World Faith
By William B. Sears
The Baha’i World, Vol. XII, p. 208
The Centenary of the Martyrdom of the Bab
Pamphlet issued by the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of the United States, commemorating the Centenary of the Martyrdom of the Bab, Tabriz, Persia, July 9, 1850.
The blistering July sun glared from the barrels of seven hundred and fifty rifles, awaiting the command to fire and to take His life.
He seemed so young to die, barely thirty, and He was handsome, gentle, confident. Could He possibly be guilty of the shocking crime of which He was accused?
Thousands of eager spectators lined the Public Square. They crowded along - the rooftops overlooking the scene of death. They wanted one last sight of Him for He was either good or evil, and they were not sure which.
It was high noon, July 9, 1850, in a parched corner of Persia, the barracks square of the sun-drenched city of Tabriz.
The chain of events leading to this scene began in 1844.
It was in an age of religious fervor. Everywhere men were preaching the return of ­Christ. They urged the world to prepare for it. Wolff in Asia, Sir Edward living in England, Leonard H. Kelber in Germany, Mason in Scotland, Davis in South Carolina,  and William Miller in Pennsylvania, agreed that their studies of the Scriptures clearly showed that the hour for Christ's return was at hand.
James Russell Lowell's poem "The Crisis” was written in that very hour of Advent enthusiasm:
"Once to every man and nation
comes the moment to decide.
Some great cause, God's new Messiah …”
The years between 1843 and 1847 were generally accepted as the time for the return of Christ. Careful study of the prophecies had simultaneously led Bible scholars and students in different parts of the world to these fateful years. Did the years between 1843 and 1847 pass with no sign of the return of Christ? Or were these years comparable to those which followed the birth and enunciation of Christ's original message? Years which passed with no visible sign to the people of Palestine that the Promised One had come. The crucifixion of a trouble maker from Nazareth they had dismissed from their minds. Was the story to wait, as it had waited in the time of Jesus, for over one hundred years before it began to reach the consciousness of the people? Was the story of Calvary to be retold at an execution post in the public square of Tabriz?
And during 1844, in Persia, this story had its beginning.
It was the eve of May 23rd in Shiraz, the "city of nightingales and blue tile foun­tains." Shiraz, in what was once the ancient province of Elam given by Daniel, the Prophet, as the place of vision in the latter days and mentioned in the book of Jere­miah: "And I will set my throne in Elam."
A young man declared that He was the One foretold in all the holy books of the past. He said He had come to usher in a new era, a new springtime in the hearts of men. He was called "The Bab" which means the door or the gate. His teaching was to be the gateway to a new age of unity: The world is one country and mankind its citi­zens; there is only one religion and all the Prophets have taught it.
As Jesus had spoken to Peter, the fisher­man, the Bab spoke to a Persian student, Mulla Husayn. Mulla Husayn's own words can best describe the depth of this experi­ence:
"I sat spellbound by His utterance, ob­livious of time. . . . This Revelation, so suddenly and impetuously thrust upon me, came as a thunderbolt which for a time seemed to have benumbed my faculties ... Excitement, joy, awe, and wonder stirred the depths of my soul. Predominant among these emotions was a sense of gladness and strength which seemed to have transfigured me."'
"I sat enraptured by the magic of His voice and the sweeping force of His revela­tion. At last I reluctantly arose from my seat and begged to depart. He smilingly bade me be seated, and said: 'If you leave in such a state, whoever sees you will assuredly say: This poor youth has lost his mind.' "
At that moment the clock registered two hours and eleven minutes after sunset on the eve of May 23, 1844. The Bab declared to Mulla Husayn as he prepared to leave, "This night, this very hour will, in the days to come, be celebrated as one of the greatest and most significant festivals."
One hundred years later, May 23, 1944, in over eight hundred Babi communities of the world this hour was commemorated as the dawn of a new age, the beginning of the era of "one fold and one shepherd."
In one century from the evening of its birth, this World Faith heralded by the Bab had spread to all the major countries of the earth, embracing people from every walk of life, every religious conviction, every shade of skin-color.
The fame of the Bab soon spread beyond the circle of His disciples. It reached the authorities of both church and state. They were alarmed by the enthusiasm with which the people accepted the Bab's message. The same wave of opposition and hatred that had surrounded Jesus, began to engulf the Bab. The clergy at once initiated a com­bined attack upon Him. They gathered their wisest and most capable scholars and speak­ers to argue with and try to confuse the Bab. They arranged great public debates in Shiraz and invited the governor, the clergy, the military chiefs, as well as the people, hoping to discredit the young Prophet of Shiraz.
He spoke such searching truths that day by day the crowds increased. His purity of conduct at an age when passions are intense impressed the people who met Him. He was possessed of extraordinary eloquence and daring. Instead of benefiting the clergy, the debates they arranged elevated the Bab at their expense. He exposed, unsparingly, their vices and corruption. He proved their infidelity to their own doctrine. He shamed them in their lives. He defeated them with their own Holy Book in His hand.
Soon all of Persia was talking about the Bab. The Shah himself, moved to investi­gate the truth of the reports concerning the Bab, delegated Siyyid Yahyay-i-Darabi, sur­named Vahid, to go at once to Shiraz and investigate the matter in person. Vahid was chosen because he was called the "most learned and most influential" of all the Shah's subjects.
Vahid had three interviews with the Bab. After the first, he said to a friend, "I have in His presence expatiated unduly upon my own learning. He was able in a few words to answer my questions . . ."
Of these interviews, Vahid said later, "As soon as I was ushered into His presence, a sense of fear, for which I could not account, suddenly seized me . . . The Bab, behold­ing my plight, arose from His seat, ad­vanced towards me, and, taking hold of my hand, seated me beside Him.
"'Seek from me,' He said, 'whatever is your heart's desire. I will readily reveal it to you.' "Like a babe that can neither understand nor speak, I felt powerless to respond. The Bab smiled as He gazed at me and said: `Were I to reveal for you [the answers to the questions you seek], would you acknowl­edge that My words are born of the spirit of God? Would you recognize that My ut­terance can in no way be associated with sorcery or magic?' .. .
"How am I to describe this scene of in­expressible majesty? Verses streamed from His pen with a rapidity that was truly as­tounding. The incredible swiftness of His writing, the soft and gentle murmur of His voice, and the stupendous force of His style, amazed and bewildered me."
Vahid summed up his report on his in­vestigation of the Bab by saying, "Such was the state of certitude to which I had at­tained that if all the powers of the earth were to be leagued against me they would be powerless to shake my confidence in the greatness of His Cause."
When word of this reached the Shah, he told his Prime Minister that he had been in­formed Vahid had become a follower of the Bab. "If this be true, it behooves us to cease belittling the Cause of that Siyyid."
Still disturbed by Vahid's response to the Bab's teaching, the Shah issued an order summoning the Bab to the capital city of Tehran. The Shah had received a letter from the Bab requesting such an audience. The Bab said that He was confident of the just­ness of the King and so He wished to come to the capital and hold conferences with the priests of the empire in the presence of the Shah, the civil authorities, and the people. The Bab offered to explain His Cause and His purpose. He said He would accept be­forehand the judgment of the Shah and, in case of failure, was ready to sacrifice His head.
The Bab never reached Tehran. The Prime Minister, Haji Mirza Aqasi, feared the consequences of such an interview. He feared the influence the Bab might exert on both the sovereign and the capital city. He succeeded in persuading the Shah to trans­fer so dreaded a subject to Mah-Ku, a pris­on castle in the Adhirbiyjan mountains to the north.
En route to Mah-Ku, the Bab approached the gate of Tabriz. The news of His arrival stirred the hearts of the people and they set out to meet Him, eager to extend their wel­come to so beloved a Leader. The officials of the government refused to allow them to draw near and receive His blessing.
As the Bab walked along the streets of Tabriz, the cries of the multitude resounded on every side. So loud was the clamor of welcome that a crier was ordered to warn the people of the danger to which they were exposing themselves. The cry went forth: "Whosoever shall make any attempt to ap­proach the Siyyid-i-Bab, or seek to meet him, all [that person's] possessions shall forthwith be seized and he himself con­demned to perpetual imprisonment!"
An undercurrent of excitement ran through the city during the Bab's stay. With saddened hearts and mixed feelings of help­lessness and confusion, the people watched the beloved Prophet leave Tabriz for the castle of Mah-Ku. They whispered among themselves, as had the followers of Jesus when they watched Him being delivered in turn to Caiaphas and Pilate: If this is the Promised One, why is He subjected to the whims of the men of earth?
The Bab was given into the custody of `Ali Khan, warden of the solid, four-towered stone castle which sat on the summit of a mountain on the frontier of Russia, Turkey, and Persia.
The Prime Minister was confident that few, if any, would venture to penetrate that wild region. The people of the area were al­ready hostile to the Bab, and it was the Prime Minister's hope that this enforced se­clusion among enemies would stifle the Faith at its birth and lead to its extinction.
He soon realized how gravely he had un­derrated the force of the Bab's influence. The hostility of the natives was subdued by the gentle manners of the Bab. Their hearts were softened by His love for them. Their pride was humbled by His modesty. Their opposition to His teaching was mellowed by the wisdom of His words. Even the warden, `Ali Khan, began to relax the severity of the Bab's imprisonment, in spite of the Prime Minister's repeated warning against falling under His spell.
Soon great numbers began to come from all quarters to visit the Bab at Mah-Ku. During this period, the Bab composed His Persian Bayan, the most comprehensive of all His writings. In it the Bab defined His mission as two-fold: To call men to God, and to announce the coming of the Promise of all ages and all religions—a great world educator whose station was so exalted that in the words of the Bab, "A thousand pe­rusals of the Bayan cannot equal the perusal of a single verse to be revealed by 'Him Whom God shall make manifest.'"'
The Prime Minister was informed of the affection which the once unfriendly people of Mah-Ku were showing toward the Bab. He was told of the flood of pilgrims to the castle. Those who had been ordered to watch developments reported to the Prime Minister that the warden, 'Ali Khan, had been enchanted by the Bab and treated Him as his host rather than as his prisoner. Both fear and rage impelled the Prime Minister to issue an instant order for the transfer of the Bab to the castle of Chihriq, called the "grievous mountain."
The Bab said farewell to the people of Mah-Ku who, in the course of His nine months' captivity among them, had recog­nized to a remarkable degree the power of His personality and the greatness of His character.
The Bab was subjected to a closer and more rigorous confinement at Chihriq. The Prime Minister left strict and explicit instructions to the keeper, Yahya Khan, that no one was to enter the presence of his prisoner. He was warned to profit by the failure of 'Ali Khan at Mah-Ku. Yet, in spite of the open threat to his own safety, Yahya Khan found him­self powerless to obey. He soon felt the fas­cination of his prisoner and forgot the duty he was expected to perform, for the love of the Bab had claimed his entire being.
Even the Kurds who lived in Chihriq, and whose fanaticism and hatred exceeded that of the inhabitants of Mah-Ku, fell under the transforming influence of the Bab. The love which the Bab radiated was a living thing. 
As Saul of Tarsus had fallen victim to the enrapturing warmth of Jesus, in like manner whoever came in contact with the Bab was transported into a new world of joy and gladness. As the crowds had flocked to Jesus on the Mount of Olives, so came the hungry, thirsty people of Persia to the Mountain of Chihriq.
No sooner did this news reach the capital than the infuriated Prime Minister de­manded that the Bab be transferred at once to Tabriz. He called an immediate confer­ence of all the ecclesiastical dignitaries of Tabriz to seek the most effective means for bringing to an abrupt end the Bab's power over the people.
The news of the impending arrival of the Bab caused such popular enthusiasm that the authorities decided to confine the Bab in a place outside the gate of the city.
The crowds besieged the entrance to the meeting place the next day, impatiently awaiting the time when they could catch a glimpse of His face. They pressed forward in such large numbers that a passage had to be forced for the Bab.
When the Bab entered the hall, a great stillness descended upon the people. At last the stillness was broken by the president of the gathering. "Who do you claim to be," he asked the Bab, "and what is the message which you have brought?"
Pontius Pilate had asked Jesus, "Art thou a king then?" And Jesus replied, "Thou say­est that I am a king. To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice."
So did the Bab reply to the Assembly. "I am, I am, I am the Promised One! I am the One whose name you have for a thou­sand years invoked, at whose mention you have risen, whose advent you have longed to witness, and the hour of whose Revela­tion you have prayed God to hasten. Verily I say, it is incumbent upon the peoples of both the East and the West to obey My word and pledge allegiance to My person."
Immediately after He had pronounced these words, a quiet fell over the hall; a feeling of awe seized those who were pres­ent; the pallor of their faces betrayed the agitation of their hearts.
The examination of the Bab continued to its pre-arranged end. Yet, once again, the purpose of the authorities had been frus­trated. The meeting had served only to up­lift Him in the eyes of the people.
The Bab was at length delivered to the head of the religious court of Tabriz to be whipped with the bastinado. 
As Jesus had fallen under the scourge for His claim to be a Redeemer of men, the Bab also was sub­jected to the same indignity. Eleven times the head of the religious court applied the rod to the Bab's feet. He was struck across the face with one of the strokes intended for His feet.
Dr. McCormick, an English physician, treated Him and recalled their meeting in the following manner, "He was a very mild and delicate-looking man, rather small in stature and very fair for a Persian, with a melodious soft voice, which struck me much . . . In fact his whole look and deportment went far to dispose one in his favour."
His persecutors had fondly hoped that by summoning the Bab to Tabriz they would be able through threats and intimidations to induce Him to abandon His mission. They had failed. As Jesus had said, "My teaching is not mine, but His that sent me," the Bab too made it clear that this message was something greater than Himself.
The gathering in Tabriz had enabled Him at last to set forth emphatically, in the pres­ence of the authorities, the distinguishing, features of His claim. It had also enabled Him to destroy, in brief and convincing lan­guage, the arguments of His enemies.
The news of this meeting spread rapidly throughout Persia. It awakened new zeal in the hearts of His followers. They redoubled their efforts to spread His teachings. It en­kindled a corresponding reaction among His adversaries. Persecutions, unprecedented in their violence, swept over the nation.
The Shah succumbed to illness, and his Prime Minister Haji Mirza Aqasi was top­pled from power. The successor to the throne was seventeen-year-old Nasiri'd-Din Mirza, and the active direction of the affairs of the nation fell to a new Prime Minister, Mirza Taqi Khan. His rule was iron-hearted and his hatred for the Bab more implacable than that of Haji Mirza Aqasi. He un­chained a combined assault of civil and ec­clesiastical powers against the Bab and His Faith.
When word of the suffering of His followers reached the Bab, who had been returned to the castle of Chihriq, He was plunged in sorrow. There was yet an added blow to come to Him. His beloved uncle, by whom He had been reared in childhood, was ar­rested in Tihran to await execution.
It was this same uncle who had served the Bab with such devotion throughout His life, who became one of His first and most ar­dent disciples. It had been less than a year before his arrest in Tihran that the Bab's uncle had visited Him in His prison cell in Chihriq. He had gone from there to Tihran to teach the Faith of the Bab and had re­mained there until his arrest as one of four­teen prisoners.
The fourteen captives in Tihran were im­prisoned in the home of one of the city of­ficials. Every kind of ill treatment was in­flicted upon them to induce them to reveal the names and addresses of other believers. The Prime Minister issued a decree threat­ening with execution whoever among the fourteen was unwilling to recant his faith.
Seven were compelled to yield to the pres­sure and were released at once. The remain­ing seven became known as the "Seven Mar­tyrs of Tihran." The Bab's uncle, one of the leading merchants of Shiraz, was one of these seven.
His friends urged him to deny his faith and save his life. A number of the more af­fluent merchants offered to pay a ransom for him. The Bab's uncle rejected their offer. Finally he was brought before the Prime Minister.
"A number have interceded in your be­half," the Prime Minister told him. "Emi­nent merchants of Shiraz and Tihran are willing, nay eager, to pay your ransom . . . A word of recantation from you is sufficient to set you free and ensure your return, with honors, to your native city."
The Bab's uncle boldly replied to these words. "Your Excellency," he said, ". . . my repudiation of the truths enshrined in this Revelation would be tantamount to a rejection of all the Revelations that have preceded it. To refuse to acknowledge the Mission of the . . . Bab would be to . . . deny the Divine character of the Message which Muhammad, Jesus, Moses, and all the Prophets of the past have revealed."
The Prime Minister could not hide his impatience as the Bab's uncle signed his own death-warrant with his lips.
The Bab's uncle continued: "God knows that whatever I have heard and read con­cerning the sayings and doings of those Mes­sengers, I have been privileged to witness the same from this Youth, this beloved Kinsman of mine, from His earliest boy­hood to this, the thirtieth year of His life. I only request that you allow me to be the first to lay down my life in [His] path."
The Prime Minister was stupefied by such an answer. Without uttering a word, he motioned that the Bab's uncle be taken out and beheaded.
The second to fall beneath the heads­man's axe was Mirza Qurban-'Ali. He was a close friend of many nobles. 
The mother of the Shah, because of her friendship for Qurban-'Ali, said to the King, "He is no follower of the Bab, but has been falsely accused."
So they sent for him. "You are a scholar, a man of learning," they said. "You do not belong to this misguided sect; a false charge has been preferred against you."
Qurban-'Ali replied, "I reckon myself one of the followers and servants of the Bab, though whether or no He hath accepted me as such, I know not."
They tried to persuade, holding out hopes of a salary and pension.
"This life and these drops of blood of mine," he said, "are of but small account; were the empire of the world mine, and had I a thousand lives, I would freely cast them all at the feet of His friends."
Qurban-'Ali was taken to the Prime Min­ister.
"Since last night I have been besieged by all classes of State officials," the Prime Min­ister told him, "who have vigorously inter­ceded in your behalf. From what I learn of the position you occupy and the influence your words exercise, you are not much in­ferior to the Siyyid-i-Bab himself. Had you claimed for yourself the position of leader­ship, better would it have been than to de­clare your allegiance to one who is certainly inferior to you in knowledge."
"The knowledge which I have acquired," Qurban-'Ali answered, "has led me to bow down in allegiance before Him." Qurban­`Ali boldly continued: "Ever since I attained the age of manhood, I have regarded justice and fairness as the ruling motives of my life. I have judged the Bab fairly with my mind and with my heart. I have reached the conclusion that should this Youth, to whose transcendent power friend and foe alike testify, be false, every Prophet of God, from time immemorial down to the present day, should be denounced as the very em­bodiment of falsehood!"
Neither the sweetness of bribes, nor the threat of death had any effect.
"I am assured of the unquestioning devo­tion of over a thousand admirers," Qurban­`Ali told the Prime Minister, "and yet I am powerless to change the heart of the least among them. This Youth, however, has proved Himself capable of transmuting . . . the souls of the most degraded among His fellow men. Upon a thousand like me He has, unaided and alone, exerted such in­fluence that, without even attaining His presence, they have flung aside their own desires and have clung passionately to His will. Fully conscious of the inadequacy of the sacrifice they have made, these yearn to lay down their lives for His sake . . ."
The Prime Minister hesitated. "I am loth, whether your words be of God or not, to pronounce the sentence of death against the possessor of so exalted a station."
"Why hesitate?" burst forth Qurban-'Ali. "[For this was I born.] This is . . . the day on which I shall seal with my life-blood my faith in His cause." Seeing the Prime Min­ister's uncertainty, he added quickly, "Be not, therefore, reluctant, and rest assured that I shall never blame you for your act. The sooner you strike off my head, the greater will be my gratitude to you."
The Prime Minister paled. "Take him away from this place!" he cried. "Take him away! Another moment, and . . . [he] will have cast his spell over me!"
Qurban-'Ali smiled gently. "You are proof against that magic that can captivate only the pure in heart."
Infuriated, the Prime Minister arose from his seat. His face was mottled and his whole frame shaking with anger as he shouted:
"Nothing but the edge of the sword can silence the voice of this deluded people!" He turned to the executioners. It is enough. "No need to bring any more members of this hateful sect before me. Words are powerless to overcome their unswerving ob­stinacy. Whomever you are able to induce to recant his faith, release him; as for the rest, strike off their heads. I will face no more of them!"
The news of the tragic fate which had be­fallen the seven martyrs of Tihran brought immeasurable sorrow to the heart of the Bab. To His companions, the Bab explained that this event foreshadowed His own death soon to follow.
The Prime Minister decided to strike at the very head of the Faith. Remove the Bab, he felt, and once more the old order could be restored. He called his counsellors to­gether and unfolded his plans.
"Nothing," he told them, "short of his [the Bab's] public execution can . . . en­able this distracted country to recover its tranquillity and peace."
He dispatched an order commanding that the Bab be brought to Tabriz a second time.
Forty days before the arrival of this sum­mons, the Bab collected all the documents and writings in His possession. He placed them in a box, along with His pen-case and ring, and made arrangements for their dis­posal. 'Abdu'l-Karim, to whom they were eventually entrusted, informed his fellow-disciples that all he could reveal of the letter which had been given him concerning the contents of the box was that it was to be de­livered into the hands of Baha'u'llah, one of the Bab's ablest defenders in Tihran.
At last, the Bab was escorted to the city of Tabriz which was to be the scene of His martyrdom. Never had this city experienced a turmoil so fierce. As the Bab was being led through the courtyard to His cell in the city barracks, a youth leaped forward into His path. This eighteen-year-old boy had forced his way through the crowd ignoring the peril to his own life which such an attempt in­volved. His face was haggard, his feet were bare, his hair dishevelled. He flung himself at the feet of the Bab and implored Him: "Send me not from Thee, O Master. Wher­ever Thou goest, suffer me to follow Thee."
Reminiscent of the words of Jesus to the thief on the cross, the Bab answered him, saying, "Muhammad-'Ali, arise and rest as­sured that you will be with Me. Tomorrow you shall witness what God has decreed." That night the face of the Bab was aglow with joy, a joy such as had never shone from His countenance. Indifferent to the storm that raged about Him, He conversed with His companions with gaiety and cheerful­ness. The sorrows that had weighed so heav­ily upon Him seemed to have completely vanished.
The Bab saw the sun rise over the sands of His native Persia for the last time. He was engaged in a confidential conversation with one of His followers who served as His secretary when He was interrupted by a gov­ernment official. The chief attendant for the Prime Minister's brother had come to lead the Bab to the presence of the leading Doc­tors of Law in Tabriz to obtain from them the authorization for His execution.
The Bab rebuked the attendant for his in­terruption and held fast to His secretary's hand.
"Not until I have said to him all those things that I wish to say," the Bab warned the attendant, "can any earthly power si­lence Me. Though all the world be armed against Me, yet shall they be powerless to deter Me from fulfilling, to the last word, My intention."
The attendant was amazed at such bold­ness and effrontery in a mere prisoner. He insisted that the Bab accompany him. The barracks doors were opened and the Bab was brought into the courtyard, His conver­sation left unfinished.
To the people of Tabriz, the Bab was no longer triumphant. The campaign of united opposition by church and state was having its effect. The Bab was now a humbled prisoner. The crowd filled the streets and people climbed on each other's shoulders the better to see this man who was still so much talked about.
Just as Jesus had entered Jerusalem hailed on all sides and with palms strewn in His path only to be mocked and reviled in that same Jerusalem within the week, in like manner the glory that had attended the Bab's first visit to Tabriz was forgotten now. This time the crowd, restless and ex­citable, flung insulting words at the Bab. 
They pursued Him as He was led through the streets. They broke through the guards and struck Him in the face. When some missile hurled from the crowd would reach its mark the guards and the crowd would burst into laughter.
As soon as the chief attendant secured the death warrant, he delivered the Bab into the hands of Sam Khan who was in charge of the Armenian regiment which had been or­dered to execute Him.
Sam Khan had found himself increasingly affected by the behavior of his captive. He was seized with great fear lest his action should bring upon him the wrath of God. He approached the Bab and spoke to Him.
"I profess the Christian Faith," he ex­plained, "and entertain no ill will against you. If your Cause be the Cause of Truth, enable me to free myself from the obliga­tion to shed your blood."
"Follow your instructions," the Bab re­plied, "and if your intention be sincere, the Almighty is surely able to relieve you from your perplexity."
Sam Khan ordered his men to drive a nail into the pillar that lay between the doors of the barracks. To the nail they made fast the ropes from which the Bab and His com­panion, Muhammad-`Ali, were to be sepa­rately suspended.
The Bab remained silent, His pale hand­some face framed by a black beard and small moustache. His appearance and His refined manners, His white and delicate hands, His simple but neat garments, all seemed out of place in the midst of this scene of violence.
Muhammad-`Ali begged Sam Khan to place him in such a manner that his body would shield that of the Bab. He was even­tually suspended so that his head rested upon the breast of his Master.
About ten thousand people had crowded onto the roofs of the adjoining houses, all eager to witness the spectacle, yet all willing to change at the least sign from the Bab. As the crowd that had passed by on Golgotha, reviling Him, wagging their heads and say­ing, "Save thyself. If thou be the Son of God, come down from the cross," so, too, did the people of Tabriz mock the Bab and jeer at His impotence.
As soon as the Bab and His companion were fastened to the post, the regiment of soldiers ranged itself in three files. Sam Khan could delay the command no longer. He ordered his men to fire. In turn, each of the files opened fire upon them until the whole detachment had discharged its volley of bullets.
The smoke from the firing of the seven hundred and fifty old-style rifles was such as to turn the light of the noonday sun into darkness. As soon as the cloud of smoke had cleared away, the crowd looked upon a scene which reason could scarcely accept. Standing before them, alive and unhurt, was the companion of the Bab, Muhammad-`Ali. The Bab Himself had vanished from their sight. The cords with which they had been suspended were torn into pieces by the bul­lets, yet their bodies had escaped the volleys.
The soldiers tried to quiet the crowd. The chief attendant began a frantic search for the Bab. He found Him seated in the same room which He had occupied the night be­fore. The Bab was completing the conversa­tion which had been interrupted that morn­ing by the chief attendant.
"I have finished My conversation with My secretary," the Bab told the attendant. "Now you may proceed to fulfil your in­tention."
The attendant was too much shaken to resume. He remembered the words the Bab had spoken that morning: "Though all the world be armed against Me, yet shall they be powerless to deter Me from fulfilling, to the last word, My intention." The attendant refused to continue. He left the scene and resigned his post.
Meanwhile, in the courtyard the soldiers, in order to quell the excitement of the crowd, showed the cords which had been severed by the bullets. The seven hundred and fifty musket balls had shattered the ropes into fragments and freed the two, nothing more.
A. L. M. Nicolas, a European scholar, wrote of this episode, "It was a thing unique in the annals of the history of humanity. The volley severed their bonds and delivered them without a scratch." M. C. Huart, a French writer, stated, "It was a real mira­cle. . ."
Sam Khan was likewise stunned. He re­called the words the Bab had addressed to him: "If your intention be sincere, the Al­mighty is surely able to relieve you from your perplexity." He ordered his regiment to leave the barracks square immediately. He told the authorities that he would refuse ever again to associate himself and his regi­ment with any act that would involve the least injury to the Bab, even though his re­fusal should entail the loss of his own life.
After the departure of Sam Khan, the colonel of the bodyguard volunteered to carry out the order for the execution. A second time the Bab and His companion were lashed to the fatal post while the firing squad formed in line before them. As they prepared to fire the final volley, the Bab spoke His last words to the gazing multi­tude.
"Had you believed in Me, O wayward generation," He said, "every one of you would have followed the example of this youth, who stood in rank above most of you, and willingly would have sacrificed himself in My path. The day will come when you will have recognized Me; that day I shall have ceased to be with you."
The regiment discharged the volley. The Bab and His companion gave up their lives as the bullets shattered their bodies. As Jesus had expired on the cross so that men might be called back to God, the Bab breathed his last against the barracks wall in the city of Tabriz.
The martyrdom of the Bab took place at noon on Sunday, July 9, 1850, thirty years from the time of his birth in Shiraz.
There is but one parallel in all recorded his­tory to the brief, turbulent ministry of the Bab. It is the passion of Jesus Christ. There is a remarkable similarity in the distinguish­ing features of their careers: the youthful­ness and meekness; the dramatic swiftness with which their ministry moved toward its climax; the boldness with which they chal­lenged the time-honored conventions, laws, and rites of the religions into which they had been born; the role which the religious hierarchy played as chief instigator of the outrages they were made to suffer; the in­dignities heaped upon them; the suddenness of their arrest; the interrogations to which they were subjected; the scourgings inflicted upon them; the public affronts they sus­tained; and finally their ignominious suspen­sion before the gaze of a hostile multitude.
Sir Francis Younghusband in his book, The Gleam, said, "His life must be one of those events in the last hundred years which is really worth study."
Edward Granville Browne, the famous Cambridge scholar, wrote, "Who can fail to be attracted by the gentle spirit of the Bab? His sorrowful and persecuted life; his purity of conduct, and youth; his courage and un­complaining patience under misfortune ... but most of all his tragic death, all serve to enlist our sympathies on behalf of the young Prophet of Shiraz."
At last the clergy and the state prided them­selves on having crushed the life from the Cause they had battled so long. The Bab was no more. His chief disciples had been destroyed, the mass of His followers throughout the land were being gradually cowed and exhausted.
Within three years, the Cause for which the Bab had given His life seemed on the verge of extinction. The life of the ill-fated Youth of Shiraz appeared to be one of the saddest and most fruitless.
Yet this abyss of darkness and despair was the very hour for which the Bab had long been preparing His followers. Repeat­edly He had told them that He was but the humble forerunner of a Messenger of in­comparable greatness yet to follow. In His book the Bayan, the Bab had written, "Of all the tributes I have paid to Him Who is to come after Me, the greatest is this, My written confession that no words of Mine can adequately describe Him, nor can any reference to Him in My book, the Bayan, do justice to His Cause."'
Amid the shadows that were gathering about the Faith of the Bab, the figure of Baha'u'llah alone remained as the hope of an un-shepherded community; that same Baha'u'llah, to whom the Bab had sent the box containing His personal possessions and His writings.
The marks of clear vision, of courage and sagacity which Baha'u'llah had shown on more than one occasion ever since he rose to champion the Cause of the Bab, ap­peared to qualify him to revive the fortunes of an expiring Faith.
Yet even this hope seemed taken from the believers. Baha'u'llah was imprisoned in the "black pit" in Tihran. He was stripped of his possessions and was exiled to Baghdad in `Iraq.
The Shah and the Prime Minister re­joiced. If they were to believe their coun­sellors, they would never again hear of the Bab or His Faith. It was swiftly receding into oblivion.
Once again they had underestimated the character of this Faith and the source of its power. The Bab had promised His followers in His book, the Bayan, that the one "Whom God will make manifest" would ap­pear nineteen years from the date of His own declaration. In 1863 outside the city of Baghdad, nineteen years from that evening in Shiraz when the Bab had spoken to Mulla Husayn, Baha'u'llah declared to the world that He was the One foretold by the Bab.
The Cause for which the Bab had given His life no longer seemed to border on the verge of obliteration. The dawn had now given way to daylight. The era promised to the earth since the beginning of time, the day of the "one fold and one shepherd" had been ushered in by His sacrifice.
Quotations are from Dawnbreakers, translated from the original Persian and edited by Shoghi Effendi, Baha'i Publishing Com­mittee, New York, 1932. The quotations are from the following pages of The Dawn-Breakers: 62-65, 61, 173­177, 239, 315-316, 321-322, 447, 450-452, 502, 507, 509, 512-517.

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