Guest Author - Lisa Schaffer-Harris
On July 9 at noon Bahais all over the world commemorate the Martyrdom of the Bab (The Gate)as a Holy Day. Bahais usually suspend work on this day. In many ways, the Martyrdom of the Bab is accounted in such a way that only the crucification of His Holiness Jesus Christ, rivals in its awe and intensity. I cannot recount this solemn tale in a better way than is recalled in historical work of The Dawnbreakers: Nabil's narrative
"Early in the morning, Mirza Hasan Khan ordered his farrash-bashi to conduct the Bab into the presence of the leading mujtahids of the city and to obtain from them the authorisation required for His execution. As the Bab was leaving the barracks, Siyyid Husayn asked Him what he should do. "Confess not your faith," He advised him. "Thereby you will be enabled, when the hour comes, to convey to those who are destined to hear you, the things of which you alone are aware." He was engaged in a confidential conversation with him when the farrash-bashi
suddenly interrupted and, holding Siyyid Husayn by the hand, drew him aside and severely rebuked him. "Not until I have said to him all those things that I wish to say," the Bab warned the farrash-bashi, "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 farrash-bashi was amazed at such a bold assertion. He made, however, no reply,
and bade Siyyid Husayn arise and follow him.
When Mirza Muhammad-'Ali was ushered into the presence of the mujtahids, he was repeatedly urged, in view f the position which his stepfather, Siyyid Aliy-i-Zunuzi, occupied, to recant his faith. "Never," he exclaimed, "will I renounce my Master. He is the essence of my faith, and the object of my truest adoration. In Him I have found my paradise, and in the observance of His law I recognise the ark of my salvation." "Hold your peace!" thundered Mulla Muhammad-i-Mamaqani, before whom that youth was brought. "Such words betray your madness; I can well excuse the words for which you are not responsible." "I am not mad," he retorted. "Such a charge should rather be brought against you who have sentenced to death a man no less holy than the promised Qa'im. He is not a fool who has embraced His Faith and is longing to shed his blood in His path.
The Bab was, in His turn, brought before Mulla Muhammad-i-Mamaqani. No sooner had he recognised Him than he seized the death-warrant he himself had previously written and, handing it to his attendant, bade him deliver it to the farrash-bashi. "No need," he cried, "to bring the Siyyid-i-Bab into my presence. This death-warrant I penned the very day I met him at the gathering presided over by the Vali-'Ahd. He surely is the same man whom I saw on that occasion, and has not, in the meantime, surrendered any of his claims."
From thence the Bab was conducted to the house of Mirza Baqir, the son of Mirza Ahmad, to whom he had recently succeeded. When they arrived, they found his attendant standing at the gate and holding in his hand the Bab's death-warrant. "No need to enter," he told them. "My master is already satisfied that his father was right in pronouncing the sentence of death. He can do no better than follow his example."
Mulla Murtada-Quli, following in the footsteps of the other two mujtahids, had previously issued his own written testimony and refused to meet face to face his dreaded opponent. No sooner had the farrash-bashi secured the necessary documents than he delivered his Captive into the hands of Sam Khan, assuring him that he could proceed with his task now that he had obtained the sanction of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of the realm. Siyyid Husayn had remained confined in the same room in which he had spent the previous night with the Bab. They were proceeding to place Mirza Muhammad-'Ali in that same room, when he burst forth into tears and entreated them to allow him to remain with his Master. He was delivered into the hands of Sam Khan, who was ordered to execute him also, if he persisted in his refusal to deny his Faith.
Sam Khan was, in the meantime, finding himself increasingly affected by the behaviour of his Captive and the treatment that had been meted out to Him. He was seized with great fear lest his action should bring upon him the wrath of God. "I profess the Christian Faith," he explained to the Bab, "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 door of the room that Siyyid Husayn occupied and the entrance to the adjoining one, and to make fast two ropes to that nail, from which the Bab and His companion were to be separately suspended. Mirza Muhammad-'Ali begged Sam Khan to be placed in such a manner that his own body would shield that of the Bab. He was eventually suspended in such a position that his head reposed on the breast of his Master. As soon as they were fastened, a regiment of soldiers ranged itself in three files, each of two hundred and fifty men, each of which was ordered to open fire in its turn until the whole detachment had discharged the volleys of its bullets. The smoke of the firing of the seven hundred and fifty rifles was such as to turn the light of the noonday sun into darkness. There had crowded onto the roof of the barracks, as well as the tops of the adjoining houses, about ten thousand people, all of whom were witnesses to that sad and moving scene.
As soon as the cloud of smoke had cleared away, an astounded multitude were looking upon a scene which their eyes could scarcely believe. There, standing before them alive and unhurt, was the companion of the Bab, whilst He Himself had vanished uninjured from their sight. Though the cords with which they were suspended had been rent in pieces by the bullets, yet their bodies had miraculously escaped the volleys. Even the tunic which Mirza Muhammad-'Ali was wearing had, despite the thickness of the smoke, remained unsullied.
"The Siyyid-i-Bab has gone from our sight!" rang out the voices of the bewildered multitude. They set out in a frenzied search for Him, and found Him, eventually, seated in the same room which He had occupied the night before, engaged in completing His interrupted conversation, with Siyyid Husayn. An expression of unruffled calm was upon His face. His body had emerged unscathed from the shower of bullets which the regiment had directed against Him. "I have finished My conversation with Siyyid Husayn," the Bab told the farrash-bashi. "Now you may proceed to fulfil your intention."
The man was too much shaken to resume what he had already attempted. Refusing to accomplish his duty, he, that same moment, left that scene and resigned his post. He related all that he had seen to his neighbour, Mirza Siyyid Muhsin, one of the notables of Tabriz, who, as soon as he heard the story, was converted to the Faith.
I was privileged to meet, subsequently, this same Mirza Siyyid Muhsin, who conducted me to the scene of the Bab's martyrdom and showed me the wall where He had been suspended. I was taken to the room in which He had been found conversing with Siyyid Husayn, and was shown the very spot where He had been seated. I saw the very nail which His enemies had hammered into the wall and to which the rope which had supported His body had been attached.
Sam Khan was likewise stunned by the force of this tremendous revelation. He ordered his men to leave the barracks immediately, and refused ever again to associate himself and his regiment with any act that involved the least injury to the Bab. He swore, as he left that courtyard, never again to resume that task even though his refusal should entail the loss of his own life.
No sooner had Sam Khan departed than Aqa Jan Khan-i-Khamsih, colonel of the body-guard, known also by the names of Khamsih and Nasiri, volunteered to carry out the order for execution. On the same wall and in the same manner, the Bab and His companion were again suspended, while the regiment formed in line to open fire upon them. Contrariwise to the previous occasion, when only the cord with which they were suspended had been shot into pieces, this time their bodies were shattered and were blended into one mass of mingled flesh and bone. "Had you believed in Me, O wayward generation," were the last words of the Bab to the gazing multitude as the regiment was preparing to fire the final volley, "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 recognised Me; that day I shall have ceased to be with you."
The very moment the shots were fired, a gale of exceptional severity arose and swept over the whole city. A whirlwind of dust of incredible density obscured the light of the sun and blinded the eyes of the people. The entire city remained enveloped in that darkness from noon till night. Even so strange a phenomenon, following immediately in the wake of that still more astounding failure of Sam Khan's regiment to injure the Bab, was unable to move 516 the hearts of the people of Tabriz, and to induce them to pause and reflect upon the significance of such momentous events. They witnessed the effect which so marvellous an occurrence had produced upon Sam Khan; they beheld the consternation of the farrash-bashi and saw him make his irrevocable decision; they could even examine that tunic which, despite the discharge of so many bullets, had remained whole and stainless; they could read in the face of the Bab, who had emerged unhurt from that storm, the expression of undisturbed serenity as He resumed His conversation with Siyyid Husayn; and yet none of them troubled himself to enquire as to the significance of these unwonted signs and wonders."
The martyrdom of the Bab took place at noon on Sunday, the twenty-eighth of Sha'ban, in the year 1266 A.H., thirty-one lunar years, seven months, and twenty-seven days from the day of His birth in Shiraz.
For more history about the early days of the Baha'i Faith, read more from The Dawn-breakers: Nabil's Narrative as translated by Shoghi Effendi.
