Entrance to ancient city of Saveh, circa 1900 |
Yet, in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries she had sunk
to a condition of deplorable degradation. Her ancient glory seemed
irretrievably lost. Her government was corrupt and in desperate financial
straits; some of her rulers were feeble, and others monsters of cruelty. Her
priests were bigoted and intolerant, her people ignorant and superstitious.
Most of them belonged to the Shí‘ih sect of Muhammadans, but there were also
considerable numbers of Zoroastrians, Jews and Christians, of diverse and
antagonistic sects. All professed to follow sublime teachers who exhorted them
to worship the one God and to live in love and unity, yet they shunned,
detested and despised each other, each sect regarding the others as unclean, as
dogs or heathens. Cursing and execration were indulged in to a fearful extent.
It was dangerous for a Jew or a Zoroastrian to walk in the street on a rainy
day, for if his wet garment should touch a Muhammadan, the Muslim was defiled,
and the other might have to atone for the offense with his life. If a
Muhammadan took money from a Jew, Zoroastrian or Christian he had to wash it
before he could put it in his pocket. If a Jew found his child giving a glass
of water to a poor Muhammadan beggar he would dash the glass from the child’s
hand, for curses rather than kindness should be the portion of infidels! The
Muslims themselves were divided into numerous sects, among whom strife was
often bitter and fierce. The Zoroastrians did not join much in these mutual
recriminations, but lived in communities apart, refusing to associate with
their fellow countrymen of other faiths.
Social as well as religious affairs were in a state of hopeless
decadence. Education was neglected. Western science and art were looked upon as
unclean and contrary to religion. Justice was travestied. Pillage and robbery
were of common occurrence. Roads were bad and unsafe for travel. Sanitary
arrangements were shockingly defective.
Yet, notwithstanding all this, the light of spiritual life
was not extinct in Persia. Here and there, amid the prevailing worldliness and
superstition, could still be found some saintly souls, and in many a heart the
longing for God was cherished, as in the hearts of Anna and Simeon before the
appearance of Jesus. Many were eagerly awaiting the coming of a promised
Messenger of God, and confident that the time of His advent was at hand. Such
was the state of affairs in Persia when the Báb, the Herald of a new era, set
all the country in commotion with His message.
- John E. Esslemont (‘Baha’u’llah
and the New Era’, 2006 Edition)