Come O shroud, my robe of joy. Come O shroud, my bridegroomâs attire. O youths when you wed, remember me and my disappointment.
âµ
Set during the siege at Karbala, ShahÄdat-e Ḥażrat-e QÄsem (The Martyrdom of QÄsem) treats the marriage of the adolescent QÄsem, son of Ḥusainâs deceased older brother, the Second Imam of ShiÊ¿i Islam, Ḥasan b. Ê¿AlÄ«, to Ḥusainâs daughter FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ. The groom is then martyred before the consummation of the marriage. Whilst not grounded in historical sources, the story of this endogamous battlefield wedding pre-dates the existence of the taÊ¿ziyeh tradition. Here I examine how the composers developed it into a drama with various poignant levels, intriguing because, more than any other episode portraying the events prior to Ḥusainâs death, it explores the perspective of the women at Karbala.
1 Script Sources, and Tracing the Narrative
My analysis of this episode is based on the ten renditions listed in Table 2. They are mainly from the north of Iran simply because of what is available. Francklinâs early spectator account, that recalls this episode being part of the Muḥarram commemorations in Shiraz in 1202/1787, shows that it has also long been performed in the south.2 However, it appears to have proliferated more in the north, where it has certainly been subject to a larger number of renditions.3
QÄsem Does Battle, painting on tile, anonymous artist, Tekiyeh-ye MuÊ¿Även al-Mulk, Kermanshah
The discussion below will first examine the playâs themes. Although it features a wedding, the suffering of the mother of the martyr emerges as the most prominent theme; the dramatists foreground the tragedy of her plight. We will also see how they invoked an existing archetype of beauty and gave the tropes of this description a bitter slant to characterize QÄsem as the idealised shahÄ«d-e nÄkÄm (virgin martyr). I explore their portrayal of his inner torment and of how a special connection between QÄsem and his older cousin, Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar, is created â one young man becoming the reflection of the other. This includes the theme of nÄkÄmÄ«, disappointment or lack of fulfilment, which I will show pertains not only to the fact that QÄsem died before the consummation of his marriage, but also to strands of narrative embedded in the wider cycle. Following the exploration of themes, in tracking the playâs historical development I identify a major innovation in content that greatly expanded the focus on the female experience, and that I argue was the result of the dramatists responding to their audience â most of whom were women.
It is useful to begin with consideration of how QÄsem b. Ḥasan has been treated in historical sources and hagiographical literature. Al-ṬabarÄ«âs TÄrÄ«kh includes an account from AbÅ« Mekhnaf of QÄsemâs martyrdom. He describes QÄsem as a youth with a shining face who entered the battlefield in Ḥusainâs defence, recording that the strap of his left sandal was broken and that he was surrounded by the enemy and struck on the head with a sword. As he fell he called for his uncle, who ferociously fought his way to QÄsemâs side. It is recounted that, as the dust settled, Ḥusain expressed great sadness at QÄsemâs death and was seen taking his body to lie it next to that of his own adolescent son, Ê¿AlÄ« b. Ḥusain.4
BalÊ¿amÄ«âs Persian version of al-ṬabarÄ«âs TÄrÄ«kh elaborates slightly. He describes QÄsem as a ten-year-old boy, and records that when he came out of the camp with a drawn sword Ḥusain said, âGo back, you are a child.â The boy answered, âOh uncle, for the sake of the Prophet, let me be!â and went forward. A horseman attacked him, splitting his head in two with a sword.5 Al-Shaikh al-MufÄ«dâs KetÄb al-ErshÄd gives an account of QÄsemâs martyrdom almost identical to that of AbÅ« Mekhnaf, including the broken sandal and Ḥusainâs distress, and adds the detail of the boyâs head being split in two.6 We will see how details such as Ḥusainâs reluctance to see QÄsem fight, the boyâs determination and tender beauty, and Ḥusain rushing to his dying nephewâs side are expressed and embellished in the work of the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists. However, it is noteworthy that none of these historians mentions QÄsemâs wedding.
QÄsem and FÄá¹emehâs wedding does not appear in literary sources until the dawn of the Safavid period. In fact, what is likely to be the first literary mention of this marriage is found in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat al-shuhadÄʾ.7 The taÊ¿ziyeh portrayal of the young heroâs marriage and martyrdom bears a great resemblance to KÄshefÄ«âs rendition of the story but there is also an intriguing narrative discrepancy between them, a point to which we will return.
2 Skeleton of The Martyrdom of QÄsem and Function of Its Sections
The taÊ¿ziyeh of The Martyrdom of QÄsem is a goal-driven narrative and follows an arch plot structure, with two main peaks in action. Set during the siege, it shares with the other central episodes the mounting pressure caused by the merciless encroachment of the enemy and the ticking bomb placed over the lives of the family by the denial of water. However, QÄsemâs anguish at the death of his cousin Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar and his desire to prove himself worthy as a warrior, despite his shame at being fatherless, are what drive the action. Ḥusainâs initial refusal of permission to fight is overturned by QÄsemâs father Ḥasanâs last will and testament, which begins a separate branch of action by stipulating not only that QÄsem should be martyred at Karbala, but that he should first wed Ḥusainâs daughter FÄá¹emeh. The organisation of the wedding constitutes much of the episodeâs action, with tension created by the juxtaposition of marriage and mourning, represented by the female characters. The distinctly Persian nature of both the nuptial and lamentation rituals reinforces the connection between the Iranian audience and the Arab protagonists.8 I now outline the playâs skeleton, its essential components, stable over time. It breaks down into six or seven sections (one being an optional gÅ«sheh). As with The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs, despite featuring narrative material specific to QÄsem, it follows the martyrdom composition-scheme (described in chapter 2).
2.1 Section One â Ḥusainâs Protection Diminished, His Final Battle Immanent (Exposition)
Within the taÊ¿ziyeh chronology of the events at Karbala, QÄsemâs martyrdom follows the deaths of both Ê¿AbbÄs and Ḥusainâs son Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar. Thus, at the beginning of this episode, apart from the Imam himself and Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n (who is too ill to fight), the adolescent QÄsem is the oldest male remaining in the besieged camp. This is expounded in the opening section when, making the typical opening prayer, Ḥusain and Zainab lament the deaths of their loved ones. Again, true to the martyrdom composition-scheme, in the opening scene not only are the deaths of the martyrs recounted in chronological order but the fates of those who are still alive are recited, including the fact that QÄsem will be the next martyr and that Zainab and SakÄ«neh will be taken as prisoners to ShÄm. The typical enemy challenge, from Shemr or Ebn-e SaÊ¿d, often in combination with SakÄ«neh complaining of thirst, sees Ḥusain prepare to enter the battlefield.9
2.2 Section Two â QÄsem Requests and Is Denied Permission to Fight (Exposition-Rising Action)
QÄsem is introduced through a conversation either with his mother or younger brother Ê¿AbdullÄh, or speaking to himself. He is shown to suffer great anguish at witnessing his uncle unprotected. This is compounded by grief at the recent loss of his cousin and companion Akbar. Full of adolescent zeal he approaches Ḥusain for permission to fight yet, grief-stricken due to Akbarâs recent death, the Imam refuses on account of QÄsemâs youth. Humiliated, QÄsem cries to his mother and she gives him (or he finds inside a talisman attached to his arm) his fatherâs last will and testament. Ḥasanâs will is the impetus for the beginning of the rising action. QÄsem proudly takes it to Ḥusain who responds that he must respect his brotherâs wishes. Ḥusainâs initial rejection of QÄsemâs petition to do battle, the subsequent emotional torment suffered by the willing martyr, and Ḥusainâs decision being overruled by the wishes of a senior relative are true to the martyrdom composition-scheme. But in this case there is the catch that Ḥasanâs will also contains his marriage wish for QÄsem. Although he initially objects to the wedding, his attention being fixed upon martyrdom, hierarchy prevails and QÄsem concedes. A discussion about the nature of the dowry ensues between the bridegroom and father of the bride. In all renditions QÄsem offers the gory goods of his own martyrdom, the verse cleverly combining the imagery of wedding gifts with that of a bloody death. Ḥusain accepts and charges Zainab with gaining the brideâs consent.10
2.3 Section Three â Nuptial Negotiations (Rising Action)
Female characters and their agreement to the celebration are the focus of this section. Zainab is mourning for her own two sons and distraught at the loss of Akbar. She is bitterly reluctant to celebrate a wedding but ultimately obeys her brotherâs command and approaches FÄá¹emeh. The young bride also initially objects due to her grief for her brother, Akbar, but Zainab persuades her to obey her fatherâs will.11
QÄsemâs mother requests that, despite the circumstances, the appropriate rituals be followed and her fatherless son not shamed. The couple should be decorated with henna and a ḥejleh (nuptial tent) be mounted. Ḥusain gives her permission to organise a celebration, assuring her that where henna is lacking, there will be blood, a kafan (shroud) will be her sonâs wedding attire and the grave will be his ḥejleh. QÄsemâs mother is adamant that Umm LailÄ, still grieving over her son Akbarâs newly slain body (present on stage), must participate in the wedding celebrations.12 There is a long dialogue between the two women, a poignant scene contrasting one mother grieving her sonâs death with another preparing her sonâs wedding. Umm LailÄ is portrayed as inconsolable, beside herself with grief. No one can persuade her to celebrate. Instead, she demands that nuptial rites also be carried out for unmarried Akbarâs corpse; Ḥusain agrees to her request and a ḥejleh is also set up for Akbar.13
2.4 Section Four â Wedding (Rising Action)
With FÄá¹emehâs consent, and a compromise in place with Umm LailÄ through the mirroring of ceremonies for Akbar, the wedding can now go ahead. The preparations include QÄsem being dressed and preened by the women. This serves simultaneously as him being prepared for the battlefield,14 an essential part of the martyrdom composition-scheme, although the final element of that preparation, in which he is dressed in a kafan, is reserved for the subsequent section when he bids goodbye to the family.
The celebration of QÄsem and FÄá¹emehâs union goes ahead to the backdrop of Umm LailÄâs laments. There is an atmosphere of derangement as LailÄ begins to speak for Akbar, telling QÄsem that he gives his congratulations. The dramatists show Ḥusainâs intense grief by having him drawn into this hysteria, berating Akbarâs headless body for not responding to his greeting. QÄsemâs mother tries to command an air of celebration regardless. The wedding scene itself has little dialogue, but a procession, the throwing of rice, and the bride and groom entering the ḥejleh. In the Gobineau rendition, stage directions describe QÄsem riding in a cavalcade of caparisoned horses, accompanied by musicians playing flute and tambourine, the women showering him with flowers. Behind him march other musicians, playing funerary music and carrying a bier draped in black, ready for Akbarâs corpse. Whilst the wedding provides the spectacle, the juxtaposition of celebration and mourning provides the dramatic tension. The transition from festivities to farewells is initiated by the arrival of Shemr and Ebn-e SaÊ¿d at the camp. Having heard the sounds of celebration they come on the pretence of offering their congratulations and sweets for the wedding. But instead they issue a battle challenge that sees the interruption of the ritual.
2.5 Section Five â Saying Goodbye, QÄsemâs Resolve Tested (Rising Action)
QÄsem must leave his bride before the consummation of the marriage; he promises her that the conclusion of their union will be on the day of resurrection. FÄá¹emeh passionately begs him not to go. These familial farewells are an essential element of the martyrdom composition-scheme and true to that scheme we see QÄsem impart his vaá¹£iyyat, entrusting his wife and mother to each other and often both of them to Zainab. Also true to the composition-scheme is that QÄsemâs resolve is tested as he is torn between his divinely ordained duty â to be martyred for Ḥusain â and his earthly obligation to protect his womenfolk. The dramatists have expressed this in a particularly interesting way in this episode. In a number of renditions they have the houris (virgins of paradise) calling QÄsem to them and competing with the attraction of staying with the bride. QÄsem is torn between the hourisâ call of biyÄ (Come!) contrasted with FÄá¹emehâs cries of marow (Donât go!).15 Thus, the heavenly and earthly pulls are represented by potential female companions. QÄsemâs motherâs pleas are added to FÄá¹emehâs, further intensifying the situation.16 Nonetheless, QÄsemâs duty to the divine design wins out. He is dressed in a kafan, the final and irreversible stage of martyrdom preparation. His horse and weapons are brought forward and a repeated enemy challenge sees him head into battle.
2.6 Section Six â First Battle: QÄsem Fights Azraq-e ShÄmÄ« and Sons (Rising Action-First Climax)
QÄsem enters the battlefield and calls for Ebn SaÊ¿d. He either demands water for the family (as dictated by the composition-scheme), or simply berates and challenges his opponent. His request is denied and he draws his sword. Sometimes, it is merely implied that in his first battle QÄsem vanquishes multiple adversaries. However, a more elaborate battle scene, in which he fights and kills the Damascene commander Azraq and his four sons, often features here.17 In this scene, Ebn-e SaÊ¿d orders Azraq to slay QÄsem. Azraq is reluctant on account of the heroâs youth so sends one of his four sons (who he boasts are like Rustam-e ZÄl).18 QÄsem kills the first son with ease. Azraq sends his second son, and so on until all four sons have been killed. Then Azraq faces QÄsem. This marks a first climax as Ḥusain himself is afraid for QÄsem, and the family pray for him. Nevertheless, QÄsem triumphs. It is often suggested that he cuts Azraq in half. This story features in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat, so was not an innovation of the dramatists. Rather, it is a gÅ«sheh affirming QÄsemâs battle prowess, the insertion of which is optional.19 Apart from providing a first peak in the drama, it does not alter the plot.
2.7 Section Seven â QÄsemâs Final Battle and Return to Camp (Second Climax-Denouement)
QÄsem returns to camp in what marks a brief lull in the forward momentum of the plot (and is also a feature of the martyrdom composition-scheme). He is desperately thirsty and begs Ḥusain for water as a prize for his triumph. Whilst always responding that he has no water, Ḥusain offers an alternative. He either: seeks to quench QÄsemâs thirst by putting the Prophet Muḥammadâs signet ring into his mouth;20 attempts to give QÄsem water from his own mouth;21 or tells QÄsem that his thirst will be quenched by SÄqÄ« Kowsar (a sobriquet of Ê¿AlÄ« b. AbÄ« ṬÄleb), which implies after death.22 A further variation is that, citing his desperation, QÄsem asks for permission to wet his lips with his own blood.23 Ḥusain replies that this is forbidden and offers one of the aforementioned alternatives.
Bidding a final farewell, QÄsem returns to the battlefield and is subject to a massive collective attack. It is implied that he is overcome only because drastically outnumbered. The play reaches its climax as QÄsem falls from his horse mortally wounded (either by Shemr or an anonymous enemy group). True to the martyrdom composition-scheme, and indeed the historianâs accounts, Ḥusain rushes onto the battlefield. He finds QÄsemâs trampled body. In some renditions QÄsem, like Ê¿AbbÄs, asks not to be taken back to the camp before death, in this case because he is ashamed to be seen by his wife and mother.24 As he passes away in his uncleâs arms, QÄsemâs inner struggle is resolved as his goal of martyrdom is reached. A new status quo is established as the bride becomes a widow, her golden wedding veil exchanged for black robes of mourning. The ḥejleh is also draped in black. The tension between the situation of the two mothers is also resolved as QÄsemâs mother joins Umm LailÄ in bereavement.25
3 âAfter You I Sit amongst the Ashesâ Foregrounding the Bereaved Mother
The hero of this episode is the virgin martyr, an idealised youth cut off in his prime. Although it narrates the preparations for a wedding, in the taÊ¿ziyeh rendition of this story the central dramatic theme is the loss of an adolescent son. The nuptial rites create a spectacle and allow the composers to play with the replacement of the symbolism of marriage with that of a gory death. However, in the arc of the plot the wedding is merely an obstacle between QÄsem and his goal of martyrdom.26 Ḥusainâs distress over the death of his son Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar is treated, but the dramatists have foregrounded the suffering of the bereaved mother.
Although QÄsemâs mother initially supports her sonâs petition for permission to do battle, the bereaved mother is already present in the figure of Umm LailÄ. Gobineauâs spectator account from the 1860s shows that even at that stage, grief at Ê¿AlÄ« Akbarâs death was a central element of this episode: throughout the performance the audience were reminded of it by the presence of the beheaded body and mourning mother on one side of the stage.27 Even as the audience witness QÄsemâs mother making the wedding preparations, the distraught Umm LailÄ is a constant reminder of what awaits her sister-in-law. The fragility of the position of a woman who loses her son is underscored. The audience know that QÄsem is his motherâs oldest son. The fact that she is a widow is constantly reiterated by QÄsem bemoaning the loss of his father. She tells him that she had been relying on him to be her âcane in old age.â28 Likewise, speaking to her sonâs corpse, Umm LailÄ asks Akbar if he has forgotten his promise; she cared for him as an infant so he should have looked after her when elderly. She expresses her own desperate grief and says that she will become destitute.
Umm LailÄ: Iâll close my eyes not to see the world. After you I will sit amongst the ashes. In my destitution Iâll go, stick in hand, begging in the alleys.
The suffering of other characters pales in comparison: Ḥusainâs lamentations at the bitterness of his fate are not dissimilar to his expressions of suffering in other episodes; the pain of the widow-bride at being separated from her groom is too hastily constructed to be truly moving; the motherâs loss of a son is the main theme through which this episode provokes lament. It has been said that women in the taÊ¿ziyeh and similar literature have an essential role as the educators of the next generation of martyrs,30 we do not see this here. Instead we see the torment experienced by the mother of the martyr.
In exploring this, the juxtaposition of the situations of the two mothers has great dramatic potential and it is all about contrast; the very woman destined to move from celebration to mourning requests of her contemporary that she make the opposite transition. After the negotiation of the dowry, the scene in which QÄsemâs mother begs Umm LailÄ to participate in the celebrations allows the dramatists to include further verse contrasting the motifs of marriage and death. A golden headscarf proffered by QÄsemâs mother, which she asks Umm LailÄ to don in place of her black robes of mourning, is a visual symbol of the attempted imposition of happiness.
QÄsemâs mother, however, does not leave Umm LailÄ in peace. In a protracted scene she moves from trying to console Umm LailÄ in her grief to haranguing her about QÄsemâs right to have a proper wedding, with everyone in attendance. She appeals on the grounds of him being an orphan, and the discourse between the two women commonly concludes with a variation of the following exchange:
In a different literary context, one would consider this a form of dramatic irony, as a character (in this case QÄsemâs mother) moves unwittingly towards a fate which is nonetheless crystal clear to the audience. The aim is to create in the observers a sense of anxiety, as they wish to warn the character to choose a different path. However, in the taÊ¿ziyeh genre everything is known to all protagonists, as is frequently demonstrated by the fates of Ḥusainâs family members being foretold in detail by the characters themselves. They are acting out a predestined scenario in which each is bound to play her or his part. Even within this episode it is clear that QÄsemâs mother knows that her sonâs wedding will be followed by his martyrdom and her bereavement, yet she dutifully fulfils her role as organiser.
Of course, the taÊ¿ziyeh aims to provoke the shedding of tears. It is clear that the scene between the two mothers aims to extend the space for apprehension of QÄsemâs martyrdom. Instead of crying for QÄsemâs death in retrospect, the audience are made to cry in anticipation of his martyrdom, the grief and destitution of his mother, and in solidarity with poor Umm LailÄ. Indeed such scenes, in which a painful moment is drawn out to allow time for the tears of the audience, are common in the central episodes.
3.1 Oblivious to Hierarchy: Derangement in Grief
Indicating further that motherly bereavement as personified by Umm LailÄ is essential to this episode, she is shown breaking from a fundamental behaviour of all taÊ¿ziyeh characters: obedience to hierarchy. As a general feature of the Muḥarram cycle, all characters are shown to submit to the hierarchical order, even obeying commands that are against their most fundamental wishes. There are a series of such examples in the early sections of The Martyrdom of QÄsem, demonstrating that everyone is bound by tradition and everyone bows to hierarchy, except Umm LailÄ. QÄsem obeys Ḥusainâs initial refusal of permission to fight, despite burning frustration. Zainab, although opposed to the idea of a battlefield wedding, surrounded by the dead, ultimately obeys the Imamâs command and makes the necessary arrangements. When Ḥusain tells her the plan her answer begins with the traditional expression of obedience, but then she questions his decision.
Zainab: I am your sacrifice and here to help O brother! I am a slave to your voice O brother! You spoke of happiness for your wedding O brother and placed a hundred miseries upon my breast. We wear dark robes in mourning. How can we attempt revelry for a wedding? Anyone who has two dead children, does not paint her hands with henna.
Even Ḥusain himself defers to hierarchy in his response. Sending Zainab to obtain FÄá¹emehâs consent he states that he is bound to obey his older brotherâs will, implying that carrying out that duty is painful for him.
Imam Ḥusain: Go and request the consent of my grief-stricken daughter. Tell her first that my two eyes are full of tears.
Zainab goes to FÄá¹emeh, obeying Ḥusainâs order but acting against her own wishes, as is clear from the conversation that follows featuring the refrain sharmandeh-Äm (I am ashamed).35 She is ashamed to ask FÄá¹emeh to marry at this time and FÄá¹emeh is ashamed to accept:
Zainab: O calm of my soul, he wishes at this time to have you married to sweet-voiced QÄsem. O niece, I am ashamed.36
Ùاط٠٠:
FÄá¹emeh: [But] look at Akbarâs body, fallen in battle. May the dirt of both worlds be on my head. O dear aunt, I am ashamed.38
Performers playing Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar and Umm Laila, Tekiyeh-ye ḤusainÄ«-ye Ê¿Äáºam, Armaghankhaneh, Zanjan Province, 8th Muḥarram 1439/2017
The conversation is lengthy, Zainab cajoling and FÄá¹emeh resisting. She eventually consents but rather than expressing will for the marriage to take place, she states obedience to her fatherâs order:
FÄá¹emeh: Dear aunt for the sake of God do not embarrass me further. Go and say from me to Ḥusain, who cherishes tenderly, âYou are the proof, the emissary of God. Even if you take [me] into the fire, you are the authority.â40
So, four key family members in turn have bowed to tradition and the hierarchical, patriarchal order. However, following FÄá¹emehâs consent, despite QÄsemâs motherâs petitions and Zainab often bringing the order to celebrate directly from Ḥusain, Umm LailÄ refuses to leave her lament and her dead sonâs side.41 She breaks the mold of obedience and submission to hierarchy and is thus depicted as genuinely deranged; the suffering of the martyrâs mother is sufficiently intense to cause a complete loss of reason.
Umm LailÄâs delusional state having been established, she haunts the stage as the embodiment of grief. The power of this grief trumps even hierarchy itself: nobody can draw the grieving mother out of her delusional behaviour, and Ḥusain is drawn into it. For example, he berates Akbarâs corpse for not replying to his greeting,42 and indulges Umm LailÄâs request that parallel wedding rites be carried out for it.
4 A Full Moon over the Battlefield: Physical Characterisation of QÄsem
The tragedy of QÄsemâs death is compounded by the emphasis placed on his innocent beauty and adulthood lost. We know that Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar is dead by the opening of The Martyrdom of QÄsem but within the earlier plays of the cycle a strong connection is suggested between QÄsem and Akbar (who is around four years his senior). The cousins are depicted as a duo. There are many examples of QÄsem following Akbar, repeating his deeds as if he were Akbarâs shadow. This is significant and will be discussed further below. When we examine QÄsemâs physical attributes and the literary devices employed to achieve this depiction, a further connection between the two emerges. Thus, analysis of QÄsemâs physical characterisation will benefit from simultaneous consideration of that of Akbar.
The taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists use the metaphors for human beauty standard in classical Persian poetry, and descriptions of young heroes of epic, to describe the two adolescent combatants. They have moon-like faces, are spruce or cypress-like in stature â a host of further botanical metaphors are employed. However, such metaphors are also used to describe other members of the family. In fact, it is in the application of a further metaphor system, the sensory imagery prevalent in ghazal love poetry, that QÄsem and Akbar receive a special treatment that underscores their youthful beauty and the tragedy of their loss.
The adolescent boy is considered the epitome of earthly beauty in the Persian ghazals and is often the maÊ¿shÅ«q (beloved), the figure praised by the lover poet.43 The figure of the beloved is not only endowed with a moon-like face and spruce or cypress-like stature but has other distinct physical attributes such as dark, musk-scented curly hair with a kÄkul (forelock), a ruby-like mouth topped with a khÄl (mole or beauty spot) and a nowkhaá¹á¹ or khaá¹á¹, the faint line of a budding moustache.44 This figure of the beloved is not only an archetype of human beauty, but in the more mystical ghazals, typified by their ambiguity, is also a figure of transcendental beauty through whom the Divine can be contemplated.45 In the taÊ¿ziyeh we find the topos of the beloved invoked in descriptions of both QÄsem and Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar.
With regards to hair, in both the Darbandsar and Gobineau renditions of The Martyrdom of QÄsem as the young hero approaches his uncle to ask permission to fight, Ḥusain speaks of the á¹£abÄ bringing the scent of musk from QÄsemâs curls and calls upon the breeze to carry the perfume as an offering to Ḥasanâs grave.46 In the Darbandsar rendition of The Martyrdom of Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar Ḥusain also comments on the musky scent of his son Akbarâs curls as he draws near.47 There are frequent allusions throughout the taÊ¿ziyeh repertoire to QÄsem and Akbarâs dark curls and in particular, the stunning blackness of Akbarâs tresses. In the ghazals, the curls of the beloved are treacherous, acting as a lasso with which to ensnare the lover poet.48 In the Darbandsar version of Akbarâs martyrdom, in justifying to Umm LailÄ his need to enter the battlefield to defend his father, we see Akbar apply this metaphor reflexively.
Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar: Mother, look at this anguish and affliction (Karbala). It is the turmoil of the resurrection. The world is twisting and curling like this Akbarâs locks.50
Describing the world as contorting like curls conjures a visual image of the chaos of the battlefield, thronging with enemy troops. Through the association of the curve of the belovedâs curl with danger, the peril of the situation is also implied.51 Furthermore, Akbar is described as having a forelock. In Cerulli MS 476 (The Martyrdom of QÄsem), in a macabre fashion, Umm LailÄ offers her dead sonâs forelock to QÄsem as a wedding gift instead of flowers. As for the khÄl (mole), QÄsem having a facial mole is also mentioned in number of plays of the wider cycle.52 The khaá¹á¹ of both young men also receives frequent mention and appears to have found a specific significance in its taÊ¿ziyeh context.
4.1 The Nowkhaá¹á¹: Symbol of an Adulthood Lost
Both QÄsem and Akbar are undergoing a transition into adulthood, an adulthood that they will not experience. In the Persian ghazals, whilst the khaá¹á¹ (emergent moustache) is considered a sign of beauty, its appearance provokes in the lover poet a sense of foreboding. It is a symbol of impending loss, signalling that his smooth-cheeked beloved will soon become a bearded man and thus his perfect beauty will be lost.53 Meanwhile, in the taÊ¿ziyeh the presence of the khaá¹á¹ signifies that the youths are old enough to fight and can be seen as a symbol of the adulthood that they will forfeit.
Protagonists and antagonists alike use the topos of the beloved to describe QÄsem and Akbar. However, interestingly, in the scripts studied here, the vast majority of the references to QÄsem or Akbarâs khaá¹á¹ are made by either the charactersâ mothers or the young men themselves. For example, amongst the Cerulli Collection renditions of The Martyrdom of QÄsem Akbarâs mother refers to her sonâs nowkhaá¹á¹ when mourning his loss, as does QÄsemâs mother when begging her son not to go onto the battlefield.54 In addition to this, in the opening scene of Pellyâs rendition when Ḥusain predicts that QÄsem will be the next martyr, Zainab decries the fact that she should suffer more loss after the martyrdoms of her own two sons whom she describes as ânew-moustached youthsâ.55 Before going into battle, Umm Laila insists that QÄsem bid farewell to Akbarâs corpse: as he does so he himself mentions Akbarâs nowkhaá¹á¹:
QÄsem: Farewell my cousin of the wounded heart. Farewell my newly- moustached unhappy youth. One wish remains in my heart until the resurrection, for you, Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar, to go to the nuptial tent and be wed.
It is indeed fitting that QÄsem mentions Akbarâs nowkhaá¹á¹ in connection with the longing to see his wedding, an earthly rite pertaining to adulthood that his cousin has forfeited. The impending loss signified by the khaá¹á¹ in classical Persian poetry finds a new level of meaning in the taÊ¿ziyeh. As a line between childhood and maturity, the appearance of the khaá¹á¹ signifies the wearerâs candidacy for martyrdom and that he will pass, not into adulthood, but onto the battlefield â a loss felt most acutely by his mother.
A clever allusion to the khaá¹á¹ as proof of readiness for battle features in the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition of QÄsemâs martyrdom. When he presents Ḥusain with Ḥasanâs will, deeply moved by his older brotherâs handwriting, Ḥusain exclaims, âO let me be a sacrifice for your dear khaá¹á¹ my noble brother.â57 Khaá¹á¹ literally means âlineâ (hence its reference to the moustache), but it also means âscriptâ and in this case should be read as the latter (Ḥasan being a senior figure whose protection Ḥusain misses and not one with a nascent moustache). Then, following a trend in the ghazals of having this word simultaneously describe calligraphy and allude to the beloved,58 QÄsem uses it ambiguously:
This can be read as either:
QÄsem: Look at my merciful script uncle. Give me permission to go onto the battlefield, I am broken-hearted.
Or:
QÄsem: Look at my tender moustache uncle. Give me permission to go onto the battlefield, I am broken-hearted.
By allowing for the second reading, the poet has in fact provided for a third level of meaning. Not only can it be read as QÄsem appealing to his uncleâs affection for his youthful beauty but the khaá¹á¹ as a marker of the approach of adulthood is crucial here. QÄsemâs initial request for permission to fight has been refused on account of his young age. Now, as he hands Ḥusain the will, by drawing attention to his emerging moustache he is saying, âLook uncle, I am old enough.â Indeed, whilst the general application of the depiction of the beloved of the Persian ghazals to both QÄsem and Akbar in the taÊ¿ziyeh emphasizes their youthful beauty, compounding the tragedy of their loss, the khaá¹á¹ becomes the symbol of an adulthood that will be sacrificed.
5 QÄsemâs Inner World and the Theme of NÄkÄmÄ«
Closely connected with the idea of an adulthood sacrificed is the theme of nÄkÄmÄ«, meaning disappointment or lack of fulfilment. It is more complex than first meets the eye. To appreciate that complexity, we must first understand how QÄsemâs inner world has been constructed. Like Akbar and Ê¿AbbÄs, he is shown to feel great camaraderie with his male companions and to be devoted to Ḥusain. Whilst this is relatively predictable, the dramatists have successfully endowed QÄsem with adolescent characteristics, showing him as self-conscious, reckless in his desire to prove himself, and fuming with frustration at initially being told that he is too young to fight. His motivations are portrayed quite clearly and simply: he fears being shamed as fatherless; he feels guilt at surviving the deaths of Ê¿AbbÄs and particularly Akbar; he desires recognition of his worth, especially from Ḥusain. He sees martyrdom as the obvious solution; it would result in being proved worthy, following in his dear Akbarâs footsteps, and being reunited with his father.
All of this is encapsulated in the scene where he initially requests permission for battle. In this petition he mentions his fatherless state and what has happened to Akbar (and often Ê¿AbbÄs). When Ḥusain refuses, ordering him to return to the women and children, QÄsemâs frustration is shown through a conversation with his mother. His response to her asking why he is crying summarises his feelings well:
QÄsem: Comfort me mother, the sadness of my heart is boundless. The words of orphans are worthless. I went and bowed down before my uncle to gain permission to fight from his majesty. He shamed me among my companions. I will die, for he treated me as a mere beast.
As we know, his mother will produce his fatherâs will that remedies the situation but throws the obligation of marriage into the mix.
In contrast to the desire QÄsem shows for martyrdom, he never shows enthusiasm for marriage. He is known as the âshahÄ«d-e nÄkÄmâ. This literally means âthe disappointed or unfulfilled martyrâ, but there is a further level of connotation. The term ânÄkÄmâ (unfulfilled) seems to refer to QÄsemâs marriage not being consummated before his death. He is the virgin martyr. However, he is also frequently referred to as ânadÄ«deh murÄdâ (one who did not see his wish). Therefore, the idea of QÄsem more generally as someone who did not see his desire fulfilled is certainly present. However, it is somewhat incongruous to describe him in this way when, in fact, we do see the fulfilment of QÄsemâs main and burning desire â martyrdom. The very negotiation of the dowry ensures that the marriage will see the groomâs earthly body torn apart. What QÄsem offers varies between renditions but always includes the gory goods of his own death. It is common for him to begin by offering four jewels, jawhar-e jÄn (the jewel of his soul or life), jawhar-e del (the jewel of his heart), jawhar-e hÅ«sh u ḥavÄs) the jewels of his intelligence and senses). This could, of course, be understood metaphorically but the bloody nature of his offer is made more explicit:
QÄsem: I will give the skin of my body, torn to pieces and tulip-red, as a brocaded woven silk rug for [her] most noble feet. I will give her a necklace of rubies and red coral from the blood of my sweet throat.
Thus, in agreeing to observe the nuptial formalities he guarantees that the marriage will involve his martyrdom and therefore that it will not reach earthly consummation. There could be no other outcome. Indeed, it is only when we take into account QÄsemâs connection with Akbar that the idea of his, or rather their, nÄkÄmÄ« fully makes sense.
To the uninitiated, the tragedy that compounds QÄsemâs untimely death may appear to be his wedding not reaching its conclusion. However, well acquainted with the wider taÊ¿ziyeh repertoire, the audience know that the real tragedy is that QÄsem experiences the wedding planned for Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar. In The Martyrdom of QÄsem, there are a number of references to the fact that Akbar was to be married; Umm LailÄ details the preparations she has made or would have made for him in Medina, including stitching his wedding garments. This idea has also been set up in earlier plays of the cycle. In Akbarâs martyrdom episode, Ḥusain, Umm LailÄ and Zainab all protest his intention to sacrifice his life on the basis that wedding plans are in place for him.62 When (after lengthy remonstrations) he finally wins Ḥusainâs permission to fight, as he is dressed in a kafan, he admits that he looked forward to his wedding.63 Furthermore, other episodes mention that Akbar is promised in marriage: for example, in a rendition of HaftÄd-u-du tan in the Cerulli Collection, as Ê¿AbbÄs makes his last wishes he speaks to Zainab of his daughter in Medina who was destined to be Akbarâs bride.64 The idea that Akbar was to be betrothed to Ê¿AbbÄsâ daughter is also mentioned in a number of renditions of The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs,65 one of which even features a conversation in which QÄsem tells Akbar that he himself should be martyred first, since Akbar has a named bride.66
Indeed, the theme of QÄsem following in Akbarâs footsteps runs through the cycle. We have already seen examples of this in The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs, for example when QÄsem follows Akbar in digging the defensive trench, and arrives to help Ê¿AbbÄs during the escalation of his night-time encounter with Shemr. As QÄsem follows Akbar in martyrdom, but not before participating in the marriage rites anticipated for his cousin, we see the culmination of this theme: QÄsemâs nÄkÄmÄ« is Akbarâs nÄkÄmÄ«.
This makes the situation of Umm LailÄ all the more bitter: she watches young QÄsem seated in the ḥejleh that should have been Akbarâs, which adds a layer of woe and is likely to have been highly effective in eliciting lamentation. It testifies to the very nature of these plays as episodes inextricably linked to the wider cycle. It also suggests that, while the stories treated may have originated from different sources, once dramatized they developed within the context of the Muḥarram cycle, and the dramatists were able to rely on their faithful audienceâs familiarity with the other episodes.
6 Historical Development
Fluctuations in the content of this episode are few when compared to The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs, perhaps because historical sources engage less with QÄsem on account of his youth. There is, however, one striking innovation that is likely to have taken place between the early 1840s and the 1860s. For all the importance of the juxtaposition of Akbarâs funerary rites with QÄsemâs wedding, Akbarâs corpse and the grieving Umm Laila do not appear to have been on stage during this episode before the 1840s. Consequently, the highly evocative scene contrasting the situation of the two mothers did not feature before that point.
In our earliest example of the play, the Chodzko manuscript from 1249/1833 (Tehran), while FÄá¹emeh, Zainab and others initially object to the wedding because of Akbarâs recent death, his body does not appear to have been on stage, and Umm Laila does not feature. The first rendition of the script to include both Laila grieving over Akbarâs body and the scene between the two mothers is Gobineauâs 1865 translation: the eight later renditions of the play amongst my sample unanimously feature those details. Of course, it is possible that the Chodzko script was exceptional for its time in omitting this content, but this seems unlikely since these eye-catching details are absent from spectator accounts prior to the 1840s. Furthermore, when we trace spectator accounts mentioning QÄsem we find that by the early 1840s there existed a proto-version of his episode, juxtaposing his and Akbarâs wedding and funerary rites, and featuring Umm LailÄ.
Niebuhr records that QÄsemâs martyrdom featured in the rendition of HaftÄd-u-du tan on Kharg Island in 1179/1765, but makes no mention of a wedding;67 however, QÄsemâs wedding did feature in the martyrdom episode witnessed by Francklin in Shiraz in 1202/1787. Francklin tells of the bride attended by the womenfolk, and the consummation thwarted by the groomâs martyrdom, yet does not recall the bodies of any other martyrs featuring in the performance. He remarks that one scene had a particularly strong effect on the audience â it was not the anguish of the martyrâs mother but the farewell between the martyr and his bride as she dressed him in a âburial vestâ (the familiar kafan).68 William Ouseley, who saw a performance of The Martyrdom of QÄsem in Tehran in 1227/1812 (including the wedding), again mentions the bridal coupleâs farewell as a prominent feature. He also tells of the women lamenting over the heroâs âmangled corpseâ when it was returned from the battlefield but says nothing of any other bodies being on stage, or of a particular focus on the mother of the martyr.69 Berezin records in detail The Martyrdom of QÄsem as performed in Tehran in Muḥarram of 1259/1843, at ḤÄjjÄ« MÄ«rzÄ ÄqÄsÄ«âs tekiyeh â a tekiyeh that he describes as at the forefront of Tehranâs vibrant taÊ¿ziyeh circuit.70 Crucially, Berezin gives the earliest account of Ê¿AlÄ« Akbarâs body being present on stage during this episode. However, in this performance Akbarâs was not the only body; rather, it was one of four bodies brought onto the stage!
Berezin recalls a wedding procession complete with musicians and sweets in which the bride was followed by a funerary cortege. First came Akbarâs headless corpse, carried under a high canopy with arrows protruding from his chest, his weeping mother walking behind him. This was followed by Ê¿AbbÄsâ body, carried beneath a lower canopy and accompanied by a mourning woman whom Berezin describes as his wife but is likely to have been his sister Kuls̱ūm.71 Then, under a further canopy, were carried the bodies of Zainabâs two sons, beheaded and with arrows and the blades of broken swords piercing their chests, their mother behind them. When the procession stopped, the mourning women sat down next to their respective corpses; they cried, and Ḥusain cried and ordered that the wedding begin.72 This account is fascinating firstly because it is an example of a prominent aspect of Muḥarram pageantry, the carrying of symbolic biers graphically displaying likenesses of the wounded bodies of the martyrs, being incorporated into a static performance for dramatic effect. Secondly, and more importantly for our purposes, this account shows that by the 1840s the dramatists were experimenting with the juxtaposition of nuptial and funerary rites and had begun to use Ê¿AlÄ« Akbarâs body as a focus for lamentations. Also interesting is that each bier was accompanied by a female mourner; whilst the other corpses would be written out, Akbarâs would become a permanent feature and the experience of the mother of the martyr would be highlighted in Umm LailÄ.
Berezinâs description goes on to feature QÄsemâs mother crying together with Umm LailÄ over Akbarâs corpse. When the enemy challenge sees QÄsem head for the battlefield, Umm LailÄ reproaches him for not saying goodbye to Akbar, and he tearfully obliges. âÊ¿AbbÄsâ wifeâ follows suit and so does Zainab, with QÄsem bidding farewell to all of the corpses. QÄsemâs farewell to Akbar, and Umm LailÄ insisting that her dead son be treated as the living, would become part of the episodeâs standard form.
All things considered, this appears to be an account of the play at a moment when the dramatists had begun to experiment with creating a tragic counterpoint to QÄsemâs wedding, not only by mentioning the other martyrs, but by taking the drastic step of placing their corpses on stage. They had also begun to focus on the loss experienced by the women. Berezinâs account shows that this innovation process had begun by 1259/1843; by the time of Gobineauâs 1281â82/1865 translation, it had been honed. While some elements had been dropped, the simultaneous nuptial and funerary rites had become a stable feature. Umm Laila embodied the pain of the martyrâs mother, and the contrast between her and QÄsemâs mother had been exploited for its full dramatic potential. I will now show that when we consider the sources used by taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists we find further evidence that making Akbar and LailÄ a point of focus in QÄsemâs martyrdom narrative was their own innovation, and that this took place in the time period that I have specified.
6.1 QÄsemâs Martyrdom in Rawżat al-shuhadÄʾ: a Major Narrative Discrepancy
The taÊ¿ziyeh of The Martyrdom of QÄsem and KÄshefÄ«âs account of QÄsemâs marriage and martyrdom in Rawżat al-shuhadÄʾ are very similar: the shared details indicate that the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists were heavily influenced by KÄshefÄ«âs version of QÄsemâs story. KÄshefÄ«âs rendition has the same structure and almost all of the same elements as the earliest extant taÊ¿ziyeh script of this episode, although he wrote more than 300 years earlier.73 He begins with QÄsemâs request for permission to do battle denied; Ḥasanâs will trumps Ḥusainâs refusal and contains the wedding wish; exchanges between the hero, his mother, and his bride are like those of the taÊ¿ziyeh; an enemy challenge sees the groom leave before consummating the marriage, and his resolve is tested by his wifeâs pleas for him to remain. QÄsemâs initial triumph over Azraq and his sons is also present, as is his return to the camp asking for water. The denouement is again similar; Ḥusain goes to the wounded QÄsem on the battlefield and he dies in his uncleâs arms. But one crucial element of the taÊ¿ziyeh plot is missing â Akbarâs death, mourned by Umm LailÄ, is not mentioned at all in KÄshefÄ«âs version of QÄsemâs story.
In fact, the chronology of the martyrdoms at Karbala differs in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat and in the taÊ¿ziyeh. Crucially, in KÄshefÄ«âs rendition of events, QÄsem is martyred before Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar, which is particularly curious given the importance of Akbarâs recent death in the taÊ¿ziyehâs Martyrdom of QÄsem. KÄshefÄ«âs story unambiguously presents Akbar as alive when QÄsem is martyred: chapter nine of Rawżat is a long chronological account of the martyrdoms of different members of Ḥusainâs party; each martyr reacts to the fate of his predecessor, and there are seven martyrs between the story of QÄsemâs marriage and martyrdom and the demise of Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar. The order in which KÄshefÄ« recounts these deaths is not random, as Akbar has a role in the martyrdom story immediately prior to QÄsemâs.
In Rawżat, the martyr preceding QÄsem is his younger brother Ê¿AbdullÄh, whose death spurs QÄsemâs petition for permission to fight. Shortly before the beginning of QÄsemâs story Akbar is alive and well as Ê¿AbbÄs passes him the flag in order to go to the aid of the wounded Ê¿AbdullÄh.74 Thus, despite clearly having made use of the plot of QÄsemâs story from Rawżat, including the wedding, the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists opted for a different ordering of the martyrdoms and in so doing made Akbarâs recent death a central element of their episode about QÄsem â an intriguing decision indeed.
It must first be considered that the alternative order of the martyrdoms may not have originated with the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists but rather in sources other than Rawżat. In fact, al-ṬabarÄ« does cite Ê¿AlÄ« b. Ḥusain (Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar) as the first martyr of the BanÅ« AbÄ« ṬÄleb at Karbala,75 clearly placing Akbarâs martyrdom before QÄsemâs. BalÊ¿amÄ«âs version of al-ṬabarÄ«âs TÄrÄ«kh conserves this order and al-Shaikh al-MufÄ«dâs account also has Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar die before QÄsem. However, as has been discussed, none of these sources include QÄsemâs wedding. Furthermore, Safavid historians MÄ«rkhÄnd and KhÄndamÄ«r, whose works are much closer in date and origin to the taÊ¿ziyeh, agree with KÄshefÄ« in placing the deaths of both Ê¿AbbÄs and Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar firmly after QÄsemâs in the Karbala chronology.76
Of course, it is also possible that the change in the order of the martyrdoms was an innovation that had taken place in the way that the stories were told at a popular level during the three centuries between KÄshefÄ« writing Rawżat and our earliest taÊ¿ziyeh script of the play. We know that during this period the stories circulated orally, told by the rawżeh-khÄnÄn and the pardeh-dÄrÄn. As they embellished their accounts, they may indeed have compromised on formal detail (such as the order of martyrdoms) in favour of adding emotive layers to the plot.77 However, JawharÄ«âs ṬūfÄn al-BukÄʾ, completed in 1250/1834 and thus coinciding in date with the Chodzko manuscript, presents the Karbala martyrdoms in the same order as KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat.78 In chapter 3 we saw evidence that the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists drew directly from ṬūfÄn. Thus, even if Akbarâs death coming before QÄsemâs had become the popular way of telling the story by the 1830s, it was not the only version of events in circulation and the taÊ¿ziyeh composers were aware of the alternative chronology. Whatâs more, they had used it themselves.
The Zand collection unfortunately does not include a rendition of The Martyrdom of QÄsem but it does include a version of The Martyrdom of Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar dating to 1206/1792 in which, surprisingly, QÄsem is already dead. Akbar and Ḥusain express grief at his loss.79 Of course, there may have existed regional variations in the way that the events at Karbala were understood.80 Due to the varying accounts in different sources, there may have even been some flexibility in the martyrdom chronology. Perhaps the order of the martyrdoms was not always considered important, but the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists certainly made it important as they developed the plot of The Martyrdom of QÄsem. As the scripts among my sample have shown, by the 1860s the plot had reached a standard form that foregrounded Akbarâs recent death and the suffering of Umm LailÄ.
Why was Akbar dying before QÄsem their preferred version of events? Why not adhere to KÄshefÄ«âs chronology that they otherwise followed closely and that was repeated in ṬūfÄn? Why settle on an alternative order? The decision may initially have been arbitrary. In the Chodzko rendition, whilst Akbarâs recent death provides a tragic background to QÄsemâs wedding, we have seen that neither his corpse nor his grieving mother are on stage, and no attention is given to the idea that he was to be married. However, I venture that, as the episodeâs characters and the themes developed, the irony of QÄsem marrying when such an experience should have been Akbarâs, the connection between Akbar and QÄsem and their nÄkÄmÄ«, and the contrasting situation of their two mothers, proved ripe dramatic material. None of this would have been possible with Ê¿AbdullÄh as the character whose martyrdom preceded QÄsemâs; he was too young to marry and had the same mother as QÄsem. Therefore, the order of the martyrdoms was settled.
6.2 Expansion of Focus on Women: a Response to the Female Audience
We have seen that contrasting the situation of the two mothers in this episode was important to the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists. They treated the perspective of the mother of the martyr intensively through long sections of inter-female dialogue. Whatâs more, they settled on portraying the martyrdoms in a particular order, differing to that found in their major sources, at least in part to allow the development of this scene. This is rendered more intriguing by the fact that these dialogues are examples of cross-gendered verse that, with the exception of women-only private gatherings, were performed by men. What was the motivation for foregrounding these senior female characters?
I argue that the aim was to increase the emotional participation of the female audience members, whose tears and affective responses were (and still are) important to the taÊ¿ziyeh ritual as a whole.81 As the scene between the two mothers was extraneous to formal accounts of the events at Karbala, if it was important to the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists, it must have been important to their audience. We cannot analyse these plays as we would an authored piece of theatre; it is always difficult to be certain of authorial contexts and intentions, but it is especially difficult in the case of (multiple) anonymous composers. However we can use accounts of taÊ¿ziyeh such as those of Gobineau, a regular spectator in the early 1860s, as evidence of the important effect that the audience had on the evolution of the plays. He observes the fluctuating content of the plays: he describes plays treating a particular Karbala scene as changing from year to year, and theorises that the sections that had the most influence on the audience were kept, whilst others were dropped. Gobineau argues that each play, â⦠far from being the work of a single author, is the result of a considerable number of modifications, arriving at a sort of perfection based on public approval.â82 It indeed appears that the development of the Muḥarram cycle has been something of a democratic process, a symbiotic work of actors and audience. This is supported by what is observable when looking at a range of historical scripts of the same episode. We see creative âdead endsâ, innovations in content that appear in certain renditions but do not gain traction and later disappear: we also see successful innovations integrated into versions from across the country and, within a couple of decades, becoming permanent features. The scene between the two mothers is a strong example of this, and reveals much about the nature of the audience and the contract between its members and the taÊ¿ziyeh performers and composers.
In chapter 1 we heard through the accounts of multiple witnesses how women constituted a highly important, if not the most important, contingent of the taÊ¿ziyeh audience in the cities of Qajar Iran, outnumbering their male counterparts and participating vocally and enthusiastically. We heard from Mary Sheil, who spectated at taÊ¿ziyeh in Tehran in 1266/1849, that âwomen of humble conditionâ were present âin great numbers.â83 Seated in the centre of the traditional tekiyeh around the sakÅ«, women were the main direct audience to whom the taÊ¿ziyeh-khÄnÄn delivered their performances. To be truly moved by the plays, these women needed to see their own experiences, fears and aspirations represented. An episode that featured a marriage, an occasion when senior females traditionally play an important role as organisers, was an ideal opportunity to foreground the experience of the aging mother and ensure the emotional investment of an important sector of the audience. The fact that the dramatists responded to the reaction of these âwomen of humble conditionâ (women of higher social class being seated in loggias behind heavy gauze curtains), and sought to secure their participation, speaks of these womenâs agency, and the power they exercised within the tekiyeh. They were important to the ritual. Their important contribution was recognised, their needs as an audience catered to.
There is an interesting parallel here with the manner in which QÄsemâs marriage and martyrdom is told, and indeed resonates, amongst the ShiÊ¿i community of Hyderabad (India), as discussed in the work of Karen Ruffle. The medium is not devotional drama, rather marsiyeh (lament poetry), and the narrations given by orators in mourning assemblies (similar to Iranâs rawżeh-khÄnÄ« sittings).84 As with the âPersianizationâ of the story when told in the Iranian context, the characters and marital customs are made Indian, the bride and groom portrayed as idealised Deccani Muslims.85 Importantly, Ruffle argues that due to the Hindu taboo associated with widow remarriage, the tragedy of the death of the bridegroom has resonated particularly strongly with the Hyderabadi ShiÊ¿a.86 She gives MÄ«r Ê¿Alamâs Dah Majles (composed in 1196/1781) as an example of a rendition of KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat al-shuhadÄʾ, not only translated from Persian into Urdu, but adapted for a local audience. Reminiscent of the taÊ¿ziyeh interpretation of QÄsemâs wedding story, Ruffle observes that MÄ«r Ê¿Alam narrates the story largely through the voices of the women and, interestingly, that he includes dialogues between the older women that show their perspective. However, in this case, it is not the suffering of the mother of the martyr, but the tragic nature of FÄá¹emeh the brideâs impending plight as a widow and social outcast that is brought to the fore. Ruffle concludes that the author sought to encourage the audience to connect with FÄá¹emeh on more than a religious level, rather as if she were a real local character.87 In the context of the Iranian taÊ¿ziyeh, the foregrounding of the suffering of the martyrâs mother is likely to have the same effect, the plight of Umm Laila and QÄsemâs mother resonating strongly not only with women who had lost their own sons but with their communities, and those who feared such a loss.
7 Conclusion
We have seen that the story of QÄsem and FÄá¹emehâs wedding, in circulation from as early as the composition of KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat al-shuhadÄʾ, was given new poignant levels as a taÊ¿ziyeh episode. The archetypal beauty of the beloved of the Persian ghazals was invoked by the dramatists describing QÄsem, allowing them to depict his adolescent charm and compounding the tragedy of his loss. The nascent moustache, nowkhaá¹á¹, a trope of the beloved, took on a new significance in the Karbala context and became the tragic motif of an adulthood sacrificed, unfulfilled. QÄsemâs cousin Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar was similarly presented. The dramatists developed a special connection between these two, one becoming the reflection of the other. They not only gave QÄsemâs bloody unconsummated marriage a further tragic twist by portraying it as the wedding planned for Akbar, but they placed Akbarâs body on stage throughout the proceedings as a constant reminder of the bridegroomâs fate, uniting the cousins in their nÄkÄmÄ«.
Throughout all of this, they foregrounded the suffering of the young martyrâs mother, exploring the tragedy of her situation, the depth of her grief leading to derangement. The intensive engagement with this figure was the result of a major innovation that took place between the 1840s and 1860s â the introduction of Umm LailÄ and Akbarâs body to the play. This allowed not only the development of the aforementioned connection between QÄsem and Akbar, but also the juxtaposition of the situations of their mothers: one mourning her sonâs death, the other preparing her sonâs wedding. Creating this contrast was clearly important because to facilitate it the dramatists settled on an understanding of the order of the Karbala martyrdoms significantly different to that found in some of their major sources. Those composing and performing the play made these changes in response to their audience, the largest contingent of whom were female: the developments are testament to the importance of the women of the tekiyeh.
Couplets sung by QÄsem as he leaves his ḥejleh (nuptial tent) ready for martyrdom, CP: MS 487 (Isfahan, 1350/1931). Quotes in this chapter have largely been drawn from this manuscript due to it being a good example of what came to be the episodeâs standard form and the way in which its dialogues have been versified.
Francklin, Observations, 100â01.
The Cerulli Collection includes three further renditions of the script (MS 594, MS 672 and MS 1026), they are also from the north of Iran and are either similar in date to those used in this study, or later.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 152â53, 80.
BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 709â10. BalÊ¿amÄ« refers to him as QÄsem b. Muḥammad.
MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 332â33.
KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 429â39; Karen. G Ruffle, âKarbala in the Indo-Persian Imaginaire: The Indianizing of the Wedding of QÄsim and FÄtima KubrÄ,â in Muslim Cultures in the Indo-Iranian World During the Early-Modern and Modern Periods, ed. Denis Hermann and Fabrizio Speziale (Berlin: K. Schwarz; Teheran: Institut Francais de Recherche en Iran, 2010), 183.
á¹¢Ädeq HumÄyÅ«nÄ«, âAn Analysis of the Taâziyeh of Qasem,â in Chelkowski ed. Taâziyeh: Ritual and Drama, 19â20; Rebecca Ansary Pettys, âThe Taâzieh: Ritual of Renewal in Persia,â vol. 1 (PhD diss., Indiana University, 1982), 219.
The MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition is an exception among my sample in that it features a short wine-drinking scene in the enemy camp as a prologue. In contrast to Ḥusain and his entourage, who are without so much as a drop of water, Ebn-e SaÊ¿d and Shemr repeatedly call upon the sÄqÄ« (cup-bearer) to pour them wine and the muá¹reb (musician) to play. See KÄáºemÄ«, MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ, 461â62. Wine-drinking in the taÊ¿ziyeh is unambiguously a negative trait and is used to show the antagonists as debauched. CP: MS 404 (Mazandaran, End 19th Cent.) is also exceptional in that the opening section does not feature an enemy challenge.
The MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition omits this negotiation but has Ḥusain tell Zainab that if the bride requests a dowry, she should be offered the hands of Ê¿AbbÄs and head of Akbar.
The Gobineau rendition calls the bride âZobeydèhâ. He believes that âZobeydèh-Fathemèhâ (the bride) is different from FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ, when in fact she is one and the same. Gobineau, Les religions, 423. This confusion is understandable as in The Martyrdom of Imam Ḥusain FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ is shown to have remained in Medina due to illness. This discrepancy is testament to the fact that the taÊ¿ziyehâs Muḥarram cycle is comprised of a patchwork of stories, originating from different sources and not necessarily consistent with each other.
The Chodzko rendition is an exception amongst my sample in that it does not feature Umm LailÄ. I analyse the significance of this discrepancy below.
In some versions Ḥusain has the women sing a dirge for Akbar at this point, but it is not explicitly stated that a second ḥejleh is mounted. CP: MS 671 (Rasht, Beg. 20th Century & 1325 SH/ 1946); MS 27 (GhulÄm Ḥusain b. MullÄ SharÄ«f, 1370/1951); and the Darbandsar rendition.
For example, in the Gobineau rendition he is sprinkled with rosewater and adorned with jewellery. A special robe is often mentioned and, in CP: MS 487, a turban.
CP: MS 27 and the Darbandsar rendition. In MS 487; MS 671; and MS 476 (Mazandaran, Beg 20th Cent. & 1372/ 1953) the calls of the houris are mentioned but they have no lines. In MS 404 when QÄsem is lying wounded on the battlefield the houris call him to paradise, mirrored by FÄá¹emeh calling him to return to camp.
In the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition the bride does not have any lines at all; QÄsem being torn in this section is expressed entirely through a dialogue between the hero and his mother.
CP: MS 476; MS 671; MS 27; and the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam and Darbandsar renditions.
CP: MS 27; and the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam and Darbandsar renditions.
CP: MS 487, is a good example of the optional nature of this scene. It is in tak-nuskheh form; the fehrest does not include QÄsem fighting Azraq and sons. However, the set includes two scripts for QÄsem: one with his lines for the whole play and corresponding to the fehrest, and another that includes only his lines for the encounter with Azraq and sons (should the scene be played). A script for Azraq and an additional script for Ebn-e SaÊ¿d are also included.
CP: MS 476; and the Chodzko and Pelly renditions.
CP: MS 27; MS 671; and the Gobineau and Darbandsar renditions. This detail is, again, reminiscent of BalÊ¿amÄ«âs account of Ḥusain relieving Akbarâs thirst at Karbala with his own tongue. BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 709.
CP: MS 404; MS 487; and the Chodzko rendition. SÄqÄ« Kowsar means âcup-bearer of the Kowsarâ (a river of heaven).
CP: MS 487 and the Gobineau rendition.
CP: MS 27 and MS 404.
A note regarding the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition: The plot corresponds to the majority of my sample, yet the edition features some erroneous labelling of the mature female characters. The interjections by QÄsemâs mother are sometimes labelled as belonging to his âauntâ. Meanwhile, Umm LailÄ is mentioned by name and addressed as mÄdar-e Akbar (Akbarâs mother), but the lines that she usually speaks are attributed to Zainab. Given that the lines are so similar to the usual format but belong to the wrong characters, and that this issue is present in a number of places, it is unlikely that the episode was ever performed like this. Rather, it is the result of confusion in the copying or editing process.
Ansary Pettys, âThe Taâzieh,â 226â227.
Gobineau, Les religions, 402.
Gobineau, Les religions, 433. Translation from French.
CP: MS 671.
Aghaie, âGender Dynamics,â 54.
CP: MS 487.
CP: MS 487.
CP: MS 487.
CP: MS 487. In the manuscript the letter
The conversation between Zainab and FÄá¹emeh features this refrain in all renditions of the play among my sample.
Zainab technically refers to FÄá¹emeh as Ê¿ameh (aunt), such inversions of title are common in affectionate addresses in colloquial Persian.
CP: MS 487.
Throwing earth onto the head is an old Persian mourning custom.
CP: MS 487.
A drastic statement of obedience from FÄá¹emeh is always present, she cites willingness to be burned if her father so wishes in CP: MS 27, the Gobineau, Darbandsar and Chodzko renditions.
Ansary Pettys remarks briefly upon the fact that everyone is opposed to the marriage but is persuaded to go along with it, except Umm LailÄ. Ansary Pettys, âThe Taâzieh,â 214.
CP: MS 671; MS 27; and the Darbandsar and MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam renditions.
For the beloved in Persian poetry see: Ehsan Yarshater, âThe Theme of Wine-Drinking and the Concept of the Beloved in Early Persian Poetry,â Studia Islamica, no. 13 (1960): 48â52; J.T.P De Bruijn, âBeloved,â Encyclopædia Iranica IV/2 (1989). Available online at https://iranicaonline.org/articles/beloved (accessed June 18th, 2024).
Annemarie Schimmel, A Two-Colored Brocade: The Imagery of Persian Poetry (Lahore: Sang-e-Meel Publications, [1992] 2004), 232â33.
For elaboration of this concept see: Leonard Lewisohn, âProlegomenon to the Study of Hafiz,â in Hafiz and the Religion of Love in Classical Persian Poetry, ed. Leonard Lewisohn (London; New York: I.B. Tauris, 2010), 43â49.
Gobineau, Les religions, 407; á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 1, 439.
MajÄles, 1, 423.
De Bruijn, âBelovedâ. It merits comment that KÄshefÄ« has Shemr describe QÄsem in the terms of the beloved when warning his fellow soldiers how dangerous the boy is, and advising against single combat. Rawżat, 433.
á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 1, 423.
The words karb and balÄ, meaning âanguish and afflictionâ, are used to denote Karbala.
As further similar examples, in the MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ/ MÄ«r-e MÄtam rendition of The Martyrdom of QÄsem, QÄsem twice uses the belovedâs black curls as a metaphor for darkness, once when discussing the downward turn in his fortunes and again when asking for dark tulips to be brought to his grave. KÄáºemÄ«, MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ, 463â64.
For an example see âThe Lamentations of Ḥusain and His Family for the Loss of the Martyrs in Karbala,â Pelly, Miracle Play, 2, 75.
Julie Scott Meisami, âThe Body as Garden: Nature and Sexuality in Persian Poetry,â Edebiyât, no. 6.2 (1995): 271; Afsaneh Najmabadi, Women with Mustaches and Men Without Beards: Gender and Sexual Anxieties of Iranian Modernity (Berkeley, California; London: University of California Press, 2005), 15.
CP: MS 404 and MS 671 respectively.
Pelly, Miracle Play, 2, 2.
CP: MS 487. The eáºÄfeh after the words
This also features in CP: MS 487; MS 671 and the Chodzko, Darbandsar renditions.
Schimmel, Two-Colored Brocade, 232â33.
KÄáºemÄ«, MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ, 466.
CP: MS 487. In both cases the eżÄfeh in the manuscript after the word
CP: MS 671.Variations of the same lines feature in MS 487; MS 27 and the Darbandsar rendition.
For example, see the Darbandsar rendition of The Martyrdom of Ê¿AlÄ« Akbar, á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 1, 419â33.
Ibid., 428.
CP: MS 699.
CP: MS 51; MS 622; MS 513; and the Darbandsar rendition.
CP: MS 51.
Niebuhr, Reisebeschreibung, 2, 199â200. However, HaftÄd-u-du tan would come to feature QÄsemâs matrimony, it features in two of the three Cerulli Collection versions of said play: CP: MS 699 and MS 915.
Francklin, Observations, 100â01.
William Ouseley, Travels in Various Countries of the East: More Particularly Persia, 3 vols., vol. 3 (London: Rodwell and Martin, 1823), 164â65.
Bérézine, Voyage, 252â55.
As discussed in chapter 3, in The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs the hero asks his sisters and niece to mourn over his body as he has no wife or mother at Karbala. Mistakes regarding the identities of female characters are common in the accounts of foreign spectators.
Bérézine, Voyage, 253; Jean Calmard and Jacqueline Calmard, âMuharram Ceremonies Observed in Tehran by Ilya Nikolaevich Berezin (1843),â in Eternal Performance: Taâziyeh and other Shiite Rituals, ed. Peter J. Chelkowski (Calcutta: Seagull Books, 2010), 62.
KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 429â39.
Ibid., 428.
Ṭabarī, History, XIX, 150.
MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2251â53; KhÄndamÄ«r, ḤabÄ«b al-siyÄr, 2, 52â54.
A pardeh (story-tellerâs canvas) featuring a variety of prominent scenes from Karbala, and likely to date to the Zand period, depicts QÄsem in battle lifting Azraqâs oldest son by the hair. For the full canvas and expansion of the QÄsem detail see Figures 13 and 14 in Marzolph, âVisual Culture,â 147â149.
For the martyrdom narratives of the figures in question beginning with Ê¿AbdullÄh and ending with Akbar see JawhariÌ, TÌ£uÌfaÌn, 193â218.
Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 12, 9â54.
The editors of the aforementioned script identify the presence of words in the dialect of the Arak area in Markazi province, indicating its origin. Ibid., 11.
During my 1439/2017 participation as a taÊ¿ziyeh audience member the senior women were often the first to cry and vocally lament, triggering a similar reaction from the wider audience. See Deacon, âTaÊ¿ziyeh-khani in Iranian Communities.â
Gobineau, Les religions, 368. Translated from French.
Sheil, Glimpses, 126â27. See chapter 1 âWomen as Audients, Patrons, Performers and Copyists.â
There is evidence that some taÊ¿ziyeh-khÄnÄ« performances were staged at the court of Äá¹£af al-Dawlah in Lucknow in the late 12th/18th century. However, this tradition seems not to have taken root in India. BulÅ«kbÄshÄ«, TaÊ¿ziyeh, 28â29.
Ruffle, âIndo-Persian Imaginaire,â 189â191.
Ibid., 182.
Ibid., 192â197. Ruffle recalls the orator to whom she listened in a Hyderabad mourning assembly in 2005 also encouraging this connection.