On Nawruz day, 1909, the Bab’s holy remains were interred at night on Mt. Carmel. ‘Abdu’l-Baha leaned over the vault, his long grey hair sweeping over the coffin and wept.
That same month, Baha’is in the U.S. met at their National Convention and decided to build a House of Worship, the first in North America; Corrine True would be the driving force in this effort. It would become the holiest House of Worship because ‘Abdu’l-Baha laid its cornerstone in 1912.
While they met, a severe persecution descended on the Baha’is of Nayriz, Iran, claiming eighteen of their lives.
‘Abdu’l-Baha must have sensed something because he told Mirza Ahmad Vahidi, to return immediately to Nayriz from his pilgrimage.
Persia was careening into chaos. Shaykh Zakariya battled the government throughout the Nayriz region. He re-opened the wounds of the conflicts of 1850 and 1853 that had begun to heal.
Baha’is fled into the mountains, hiding in caves and orchards. Baha’i homes were ransacked. There were house to house searches. Money were extorted from them. They were forced to sign over deeds.
A blind elderly Baha’i man who was beloved by neighbors for his wonderful storytelling was dragged out into the street and killed. A father was forced to watch his son be killed. Men were brought before the Shaykh, humiliated, and then executed.
Parijan, a young Baha’i woman, witnessed the violence of 1909:
“Our days and nights were spent in fear…. Shaykh Zakaria's army ransacked our homes and our district … they began to attack the mosque. … I came out of hiding to find out what was going on in town. A woman, who was a neighbor of ours, approached me crying, I asked her ‘What has happened?’ she told me “They have killed your husband, Mullá Hasan and your father, Mullá Muhammad Ali”. She told me that she has seen with her own eyes how they have killed my husband and my father. I had a six-month-old son and a five-year-old daughter. I left the younger one at home and began to run towards the bazaar district. I saw more than five thousand people running around and some were pulling the body of a naked man with a rope tied up to his feet. I asked “Who is he?” and they told me “He is Mullá Muhammad Ali, your father.”… … We tried to hide in a neighbor’s house, but they did not let us in…. We had no choice, but to flee outside the town and hide in the field amongst the tall bushes. The owner of the field also kicked us out. … Nighttime fell and we were hungry and scared, it was dark and we were trembling. We could hear the mob screaming while they were hanging my father. Suddenly a friendly man, who was searching for us also climbed over the wall. He told us that he would help us. He gave us shelter that night and for fourteen days we were hiding in his house..”
To hear a reading o ‘Abdu’l-Baha’s tablet to Pari Jan click HERE