Kader Abdolah - The King

The Báb wanted to follow a route that was entirely different from that of the traditional Shiites. For centuries the Shiites had been waiting for a messiah, the holy Mahdi, who was seen as a redeemer. They believed that a series of twelve saints would follow the Prophet Muhammad, and that the Mahdi would be the twelfth.

Fourteen centuries earlier the Prophet Muhammad had gathered all his followers together. Standing on a stack of camel saddles he cried out, ‘O people! Those who love me must also love Ali. Ali is my soul, my spirit and my heir.’

Ali was Muhammad’s son-in-law. Later he became the fourth caliph of the Islamic world. One evening, while praying at the mosque, he was stabbed in the back with a sword.

The Persians, who opposed the Arabs, chose Ali’s son Hasan as Muhammad’s heir, a choice the Arabs rejected. Hasan was put under house arrest for the remainder of his life. Hussein, Ali’s other son, raised a rebellion in an effort to follow his father as the Prophet’s third successor, but Hussein was beheaded. Baqir, the son of Hussein, claimed power as the fourth successor, but he died of a mysterious illness. Musa, the son of Baqir, succeeded his father, but he was not allowed to show his face during daylight hours, nor to walk past a mosque to address his people. Jafar, son of Musa, was banned from ever speaking again in public, as his father had been. Kazem, son of Jafar, spent much of his life in prison, and Reza, his son, died from eating poisoned purple grapes. Little is known about Tagi, son of Reza, nor about Nagi, son of Tagi, nor about Asgar, son of Nagi. Mahdi, son of Asgar, was the twelfth successor. He managed to escape an attempt on his life and sought refuge in Persia.

After the flight of Mahdi, eleven hundred years before, a new faith took shape in Persia that later became known as Shiism. A strong myth was created based on the life of Mahdi. It was believed that the saint had hidden in a well, and that he was waiting there for God to call him.

Mahdi was the messiah. One day he would come to save the world from its suffering. Great feasts and religious gatherings were constantly being organised, at which believers came together and begged the messiah to come quickly and save the world from destruction.

Now the Báb had turned against the regime. He seemed to suggest that he was the long-awaited messiah, the man who would heal the sick and supply everyone with bread, meat and vegetables.

The vizier saw the Báb as just another cleric with an overinflated view of himself, a passing curiosity and not a serious threat. But the Báb emerged as a mystical leader who preached Sufism and could count on a growing number of disciples.

As soon as the vizier heard that the Báb’s followers were walking around the city of Shiraz with shiny new rifles, he knew immediately that the weapons were English.

‘We cannot pin this unrest on the British,’ said Amir, the vizier’s young advisor. ‘The problem is poverty. In western countries change is causing hope to rise like the sun in the East. We are losing hope. Our people have no future. This is why a cleric like the Báb is so popular. If we can improve the lives of ordinary people they won’t go running after a man like the Báb.’

‘This is the purpose behind everything I do,’ answered the vizier, ‘but it’s not easy. I’m standing here with nothing but the tail of the ox, while the real power lies elsewhere. What can we do to get the Báb’s followers to change their minds? They’re ignorant people.’

‘We’ve got to get the Báb first! Then people will see for themselves that he’s no messiah.’

Because the shah was more worried about the Russians than the Báb, the vizier decided to follow his own course. He sent the army to Shiraz to crush the movement. The order was to arrest the Báb and bring him to Tehran, but that didn’t happen without a struggle.

The Báb was a charismatic speaker. He possessed all the qualities that the Persians attributed to the messiah. He was a handsome leader with dazzling dark eyes, long black hair and a salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a green scarf, rode a brown Arabian horse and carried a sabre that he waved at his followers. This old sword proved that he was a descendant of the holy Ali, since Ali also fought with a special sword like this one, with a point that looked like the forked tongue of a dragon.

‘It’s the sword of the holy Ali,’ the people said, trembling with happiness.

‘All the saints before the Báb carried this sword.’

‘And to think that we should live to see this after a thousand years,’ they said with tears in their eyes.

Every Friday morning thousands of peasants from the countryside would come to the city on their mules to admire the Báb in the great Jameh mosque.

‘He is the messiah,’ the peasants whispered during his fiery speeches.

‘He’s not ready to reveal that he is the holy Mahdi, but you can just see it in his face.’

‘He’s waiting until he has more disciples. Then he’ll proclaim the good tidings to one and all.’

The city was pulsating. Hope shone in every eye. Everything seemed to indicate that the end of all the misery was in sight. People had become friendlier. They were quicker to reach out to each other, to embrace each other and wish each other luck. They claimed that every time the Báb gave a speech the air was filled with the fragrance of flowers.

Just as Mahdolia was arriving in Moscow the Báb seized control of the city of Shiraz. When the chief of police saw the Báb and his hundreds of armed men he knelt down and laid his rifle on the ground. The Báb occupied the city barracks and prepared his followers for the journey to Isfahan. If he could gain that city’s support as well it would be a major breakthrough, and the army would no longer be able to control him.

The Báb was discussing the journey to Isfahan with his bodyguards, twelve young armed imams, when he heard that a large army unit had been dispatched from Tehran and was heading for Shiraz. The first troops would reach the city gates by the next morning.

The army arrived much sooner than expected, however. They destroyed a section of the city wall by firing their cannons at it, and then they stormed the city. But to the shock of the commanding officer the soldiers refused to fight the Báb. As soon as they saw him surrounded by rural country soldiers and by his own disciples, who broke into a hymn in Arabic, they knew right away that this was the messiah himself. They knelt down before him and laid down their arms.

After receiving the report that his men had surrendered to the Báb, the vizier left immediately for Shiraz with his cavalry. When he arrived he managed to convince the soldiers to listen to him. He delivered a fiery speech in which he demonstrated that the Báb was not a messiah but a traitor to his country.

‘Just look at their brand-new rifles!’ he shouted. ‘These are weapons from England and they’re meant to tear our country apart. Fight this imposter! Disarm him! And may God and the king reward you!’

The vizier’s fervour was infectious. The soldiers decided to resume their struggle against the Báb. As a result fierce fighting broke out between them and the cleric’s armed followers, who had thrown up sandbag barricades at all the city’s strategic points. The vizier himself fought on the front line. Many were killed on both sides, and it took three days before the armed core of the insurrection was routed.

It was during the last skirmishes that the vizier saw the Báb for the first time. He recognised him from his scarf and the sword with which he fought, like a true messiah. The vizier put away his rifle, took out his sword and rode up to the Báb. His intention was to arrest him and take him to Tehran. But the Báb made a run for it. If he were to escape his disciples would turn him into a legend, so the vizier set off in pursuit. Yet the Báb got away. He was familiar with the area, and when evening fell he went into hiding.