Five Years in a Persian Town

by Napier Malcolm

The Bab, who came forward rather less than a century ago, was a young Shirazi Persian, a Seyid of the merchant class, whose real name was Ali Mohammed. The Shaikhi sect were at that time predicting the appearance of a great religious leader, and the Bab came forward claiming to be this prophet. He called himself the Bab, or Gate of Knowledge, and was at first supposed by his followers to be the Gate of Access to the Mehdi; but he seems to have used these terms in a very broad and allegorical fashion, and to have held the doctrine of the essential unity of all book-bearers. He later declared himself to be the Mehdi, and also to be the Gate of Access to One Whom God should manifest.

The movement caused a great deal of fighting in Persia, and though the Babis were acting on the defensive, there is very little doubt that they had harboured political designs. The Bab, however, differs from Mohammed in having been, so far as we can judge, primarily a religious reformer, and having done his best to make the movement as spiritual as possible. His followers were treated with the most barbarous severity, and he himself was after a few years put to death. Before this he appointed Subhi Azal, one of his followers, to be his successor, and for a few years this man was received as “He Whom God should manifest.” Later on, Subhi Azal’s half-brother, the Behāu’llah, managed to get himself accepted as head of the sect. Many of the followers of Subhi Azal were assassinated, and the sect was re-organised with some important differences. It now purports to be absolutely non-political, and the teaching has become more simple and practical. The Behāīs are anxious to retain the use of the Quran, so as to preserve their claim to toleration, although they imagine that the law of the Quran no longer stands, its place having been taken by a later revelation. Partially to avoid inconsistency in this matter, and partially to keep before the minds of the Mussulmans the possibility of one really divine book being replaced by another, they encourage the reading of all the Scripture considered divine by Mohammedans, that is, not only the Quran, but also the whole of the Christian Bible, nor do they generally call the authenticity of the extant version in question.

Behāīism is obviously an attempt to adapt Islam to the exigencies of modern circumstances, taking advantage of the special tenets of the Shiahs. The North of Persia is being at present rapidly overrun by Russia, and even in the South the Persian feels that he is on the eve of political changes. The Behāīs consider that they have a creed which enables them to meet the foreigner without continual jar and offence. In this they are right, for they do not veil their women, they do not consider infidels unclean, and they go further than does the broadest Shiah in the matter of respect to other forms of faith. Some orthodox Shiahs accept the Jewish and Christian Scriptures as they stand, without pressing the story that the Jews and Christians altered their books to suit their own purposes. Almost all Persians are open to argument on this point, though most will say that to those possessed of the Quran the perusal of former Scriptures is unnecessary. But the Behāīs hold that, unless started by a real prophet, no religion can possibly survive, and consequently they allow to even the grossest forms of idolatry a divine origin, and the possession of a certain substratum of truth.

In Persia there can never have been that almost impenetrable wall of dogmatic assertion and self-assurance which seems to exist in many Sunni lands, but something of the kind is to be found throughout Islam. As the self-satisfaction of the Behāī is almost as strong as that of the Sunni, and infinitely stronger than that of the Shiah, it seems a paradox to say that Babiism has given us in Persia a prepared soil for missionary work. The fact is that the field prepared is not amongst the Babis themselves, but amongst the Shiahs who have been in touch with Babis, and are nevertheless unconvinced. Consequently it is a field which cannot be expected to last for ever, but of which advantage ought to be taken immediately, for it is very seldom that we find so exceptional an opportunity given to us for attacking Mohammedanism on its own ground.

In Yezd the Behāīs have attached to themselves many of the most enlightened Mussulmans. The teaching of the sect about behaviour and practice is not bad, though, in matters connected with women, there is an inclination to adopt customs that are rather dangerous considering the low moral atmosphere. The tendency to minimise the miraculous element in religion is not altogether wholesome, and some professing Babis are inclined to a rather crude rationalism, the end of which it is difficult to foresee. This tendency is perhaps fostered by the peculiar manner of interpreting the sacred books, a method difficult to describe, as it fluctuates between the wildest flights of metaphor, and the lowest depths of puerile literalism, the balance between the two being decided by a very determined preconception of what ought to be. To give a specimen of this, it was seriously urged in a Behāī pamphlet, reviewed and summarised by the Rev. W. A. Rice in the Church Missionary Intelligencer, that Isaiah xxv. 6-9, where God is described as making “unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined,” refers to the entertaining of visitors by Behāu’llah during his banishment at Acre. The “wines on the lees well refined” are the tea, which Persians generally pour through a small strainer. The passage also refers to the fact that God “will swallow up death in victory,” and will “wipe away all tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of His people shall He take away from off all the earth.” To this part only a spiritual interpretation is given.

I tried before I left Persia to find out the impression that the sect had made upon other Europeans, so as not to give a one-sided opinion about them. Personally, I came to the conclusion that, in matters even remotely connected with religion, they were less truthful than the ordinary Shiah, but that in the ordinary affairs of life they were a trifle more reliable. Some other missionaries had a lower opinion of their truthfulness, and most of those who had had business dealings with them considered that they were not more trustworthy than ordinary Mussulmans. My conclusion is that, though they may succeed in establishing their creed in Persia, and may even make the Persians more easy to deal with, they will not greatly alter the moral character of the people. They have not done so hitherto, and an examination of their faith shows that they cling, in the main, to the Mussulman theory of the paighambari, or at any rate have not changed it for a doctrine which gives a man more cogent reasons for adhering to an approved line of conduct in times of difficulty.

The name given in Mohammed’s system to the state of the true believer is Islām, which means “Resignation to God.” By this the Mussulman seems to understand that he must not criticise the prophet, whatever he may do or teach, and that in the same way he must accept everything that happens as the will of God. A waiving of personal responsibility, and an acceptance of all occurrences as the Divine intention, is to the Persian an undoubted virtue. The steadfast pursuit of a purpose which has been thwarted will often appear to him actually vicious, although such persistency might be justified in his eyes by its success, which would prove it to have been in harmony with God’s will.

The word which expresses the duty of the believer being Islam, or resignation, the corresponding word used by the Mussulman to describe his theory of the course of events is taqdīr, or predestination. There is, as I have said, in Shiah dogma an attempt to modify the extreme predestinarian doctrines of the Sunni. But these doctrines are so much an integral part of Mohammedanism that it is impossible for the Mussulman, Shiah or otherwise, to be anything but a gross fatalist. This then completes the list of names under which the essential and fundamental conceptions of Islam are taught, Tauhid, Paighambari, Islam, and Taqdir.

There are also in Mohammedanism certain other doctrines which seem to be part of the system, but which are not quite so fundamental as those that have been stated. Some of these are not quite plain: it is very difficult, for instance, to understand what was Mohammed’s teaching on the forgiveness of sins, and there is great confusion of thought on this point amongst his followers. Certainly an infidel becoming a Mussulman has his sins forgiven, though he does not expect to receive any peculiar strength for the future, but only a direction as to what God wants him to do and to avoid. After this the motives of his actions will be khauf u jizā, that is to say, the fear of Hell and the expectation of Heaven. He will have to be punished in Hell for his sins according to their assessed value, unless he has previously wiped them out, either by savābs, that is, by works of merit, or by repentance. Repentance of a real kind is supposed to have a certain value, though it is hard to state exactly what that value is. Formal repentance, which does not in the mind of the common Persian necessarily involve the giving up of such fruits of sin as stolen articles, has also a certain value. But the most efficient way of atoning for sin is by savabs. Finally no Mussulman, at any rate among the Shiahs, would consider it justifiable to hold himself free from the fear of Hell.