Is not one person among you a Muslim? If there is a Muslim present, is there no remedy but this? Right now I strike my head with a stone in indignation! And go pleading to the ambassadors of Europe.
âµ
BÄzÄr-e ShÄm treats the arrival of the Karbala survivors in Damascus. They are made a terrible spectacle as battered, bound and exposed they are paraded through the market, together with the severed heads of their martyrs. The macabre cavalcade is then taken to YazÄ«dâs court for his inspection. This play is markedly different from the others treated in this book, both in terms of spatial and temporal setting. YazÄ«dâs court is a sharp contrast to the besieged camp and battlefield at Karbala; the urban environment allows for the appearance of a diverse range of characters, from YazÄ«d himself to a European ambassador, a foreign doctor, members of the royal harem, and humble townsfolk. It plays amid the aftermath of Ḥusainâs death, as opposed to during the build-up. At the exposition the unthinkable has already happened. The audience now witness the much foretold tribulations of the womenfolk after the loss of their male protectors.
Performers playing Shemr, Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n, Zainab and the Karbala survivors, Garmaseh, Isfahan Province, 13th Muḥarram 1439/2017
1 Script Sources, and Tracing the Narrative
My study of this episode is based on nine renditions of the script. The gap of a century between the earliest version amongst my sample and the next available rendition complicates the matter of tracking the playâs development. Fortunately, Ilâya Berezinâs 1259/1843 (Tehran) spectator account gives a detailed scene by scene description of this episode, providing an invaluable point in the timeline.2
My analysis of this play will look closely at the figure of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« (the European Ambassador): the origin of his story; how he reflects perceptions of foreign visitors to Iran during the Qajar period; and how the dramatists take the surprising step of turning him briefly into a storyteller. I will look at the unusual technical aspects of this episodeâs composition, and examine the forced exposure of the women as a theme. In looking at the episodeâs historical development I discuss the integration of a gÅ«sheh, a prologue, in which YazÄ«d is treated by a foreign doctor, and consider its satirical potential.
This episode not only gives a graphic portrayal of the abhorrent treatment of the captives; it also demonstrates the bravery and eloquence of the women and girls of Ḥusainâs house as they speak out against oppression. We find clear inspiration for all of this in historical accounts of the Karbala survivors being taken first to Kufa and then Damascus. The taÊ¿ziyeh composers have clearly drawn heavily from the stories of the survivorsâ ordeal transmitted in such sources. To inform our understanding of the composersâ work, I begin the discussion of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm by showing where these influences are discernible within the episode. However, I also identify a key area in which the taÊ¿ziyeh differs from much historiography â the treatment of the caliph, YazÄ«d.
The majority of the episodeâs action plays in YazÄ«dâs court and concerns him receiving news of the outcome of the battle, inspecting the heads of the martyrs, and interacting with the captives. These events are covered by al-ṬabarÄ« and in BalÊ¿amÄ«âs Persian version of his work, by al-MufÄ«d, Safavid historians MÄ«rkhÄnd and KhÄndamÄ«r, and in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat, amongst other works.3 They present Zainab as a powerful rhetorician; in her debates with Ebn-e ZiyÄd in Kufa, and YazÄ«d in Damascus she is shown not only to have the higher moral ground but the superior wit. Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n is also presented speaking eloquently against their captors, and in a number of sources his execution is ordered as a result; he only escapes death because of the fierce intervention of the womenfolk.4 In the taÊ¿ziyeh, this scene came to provide the main peak in BÄzÄr-e ShÄmâs action.
These sources also include accounts of a number of individuals (usually old men) who refuse to remain silent in the face of the injustices perpetrated against the Karbala survivors; they speak out, provoking Ebn-e ZiyÄdâs or YazÄ«dâs ire, and some pay with their lives.5 In the taÊ¿ziyeh we do see benevolent members of the crowd in ShÄm opposing the treatment of the captives, but the most prominent onlooker to speak out is the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«. He is an important character, functioning as an external witness and attempting to intercede when Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«nâs life is under threat. His is, indeed, an old story. Whilst it is not included in al-ṬabarÄ«âs account, the presence of a Byzantine ambassador at YazÄ«dâs court is recorded in certain manuscript versions of BalÊ¿amÄ«âs Persian TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh-ye ṬabarÄ« (one of which is dated to the 6th/12th century), a point to which we will return.6
Another narrative detail, important in the taÊ¿ziyeh, that is rooted in historical accounts is that YazÄ«d dishonours Ḥusainâs severed head by poking his mouth with a wooden stick. This and other similarly irreverent acts serve in BÄzÄr-e ShÄm to depict YazÄ«dâs behaviour as anathema, portraying him as thoroughly deplorable. Intriguingly, although this story is recounted in many significant works of historiography,7 the historians often give YazÄ«d a nuanced, even relatively sympathetic portrayal. Al-ṬabarÄ«, BalÊ¿amÄ«, al-MufÄ«d and MÄ«rkhÄnd all recount YazÄ«d displaying remorse upon hearing of Ḥusainâs death, and cursing Ebn-e ZiyÄd, claiming that he himself would have pardoned Ḥusain.8 They also recount his having treated the captives in Damascus with respect, providing dignified dwellings for them. Al-ṬabarÄ« even cites a report that they were lodged in YazÄ«dâs own house, that his womenfolk mourned with them, and that he restored to them their plundered possesions. He goes further, including a quote from SakÄ«neh, stating that she never knew a better kÄfer (infidel) than YazÄ«d!9 Even KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat includes a story of Shemr tricking someone else into claiming to be Ḥusainâs killer, for fear of YazÄ«dâs anger, and YazÄ«d ordering this manâs execution.10 This is very much at odds with the caliphâs behaviour as portrayed in the taÊ¿ziyeh: gloating over Ḥusainâs murder, rewarding Shemr, publicly humiliating the captives, and lodging them in a ruin. Why is this?
The historiansâ work consisted largely of organising the available witness accounts of an event into a narrative: it was commonplace for them to cite conflicting accounts, and they made little pretence of being able to provide certainty. Nonetheless, their own political or religious convictions, and those of their patrons, will have had some bearing upon the organisation of the narrative. In an interesting discussion of al-ṬabarÄ«âs and BalÊ¿amÄ«âs works, Andrew Peacock assesses the political leanings (pro-Umayyad or ShiÊ¿i) of those reporting YazÄ«dâs reaction to learning of Ḥusainâs death, and how each historian presents these accounts. He concludes that BalÊ¿amÄ«âs âtranslationâ of al-ṬabarÄ«âs work, as observed in certain manuscript versions, cites contradictory accounts in such a way as to show YazÄ«d â⦠cynically feigning horror at Ḥusaynâs death for the sake of public opinion, while privately delighted.â11 He argues that throughout his coverage of Ḥusainâs death BalÊ¿amÄ« subverts al-ṬabarÄ«âs Sunni sources, adding his own ShiÊ¿i ones that undermine al-ṬabarÄ«âs account. Peacock suspects that BalÊ¿amÄ«âs intention was to present his audience with a work from an authoritative Sunni source that included a heavily ShiÊ¿i slant, and that this creative licence would have gone largely undetected by his audience.12
Peacock may well be correct, but we do not see this view of YazÄ«d stated openly in the Persian historiography until KhÄndamÄ«râs ḤabÄ«b al-siyar (c.935/ 1538â9) by which time the Safavid dynasty ruled Iran and ShiÊ¿ism had become Iranâs religion of state. In contradiction to the writings of his grandfather, MÄ«rkhÄnd, KhÄndamÄ«r asserts that although it is reported that YazÄ«d became enraged with Shemr and his accomplices upon hearing of Ḥusainâs death, this was simply an outward show of aggression feigned because the people were cursing Ḥusainâs killers. Therefore, YazÄ«d sought to shift the blame for ordering Ḥusainâs killing to Ebn-e ZiyÄd.13
For our discussion of the taÊ¿ziyeh, it is intriguing that none of the sympathetic portrayal of YazÄ«d reached the dramatistsâ depiction of these events. He does not feign the slightest remorse upon seeing Ḥusainâs head. Later in the cycle they do treat YazÄ«dâs repentance, and we do begin to see him feel remorse in The Martyrdom of Rukaiyeh (that can be played as an epilogue to BÄzÄr-e ShÄm). However, in the body of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm YazÄ«d is the antagonist par excellence, publicly revelling in the suffering of Ḥusain and his family.
In chapter 1 I showed that by the middle of the 11th/17th century we see the taÊ¿ziyeh tradition evolving towards its scripted form, and indeed, our earliest extant script, dating to 1136/1724, affirms that the tradition had taken root during the second half of the 17th century. By this time, ShiÊ¿i rituals as large-scale public events were widespread, and included not only the performance of mourning for the martyrs, but also a tradition of the ritual cursing of their enemies which included the first three Sunni caliphs, but in particular Ê¿Umar b. al-Khaá¹á¹Äb (r. 12â23/ 634â44).14 It thus appears that any inhibitions around the legitimacy or permissibility of giving a Sunni caliph a thoroughly negative portrayal had been long shaken off. The dramatists could do as they wished with YazÄ«d. Further to this, we must consider the form in which the stories of Karbala circulated at a popular level. It is most probable that during the early Safavid period, as these events were narrated by dervish storytellers, in a process similar to that described with regards to Shemr in chapter 5, YazÄ«d developed into an icon of his type, a merciless and sinful villain.
2 Skeleton of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm and Function of Its Sections
Although this episode can conclude with the death of Rukaiyeh as an epilogue, this is not strictly a martyrdom narrative and it does not conform to the âmartyrdom composition-schemeâ discussed in chapter 2 and relevant to the episodes analysed above. Unlike those episodes, there is no distinct forward momentum towards a particular event. It is composed of a string of short, relatively self-contained scenes that consistently feature either YazÄ«d or the Karbala captives interacting with a particularly diverse range of characters. I thus refrain from labelling the sections as belonging to an arch plot structure, which would be an artificial imposition. What can be said is that the theme of humiliation, eliciting a sense of outrage in the audience, runs throughout these scenes, culminating in Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n confronting YazÄ«d and nearly being executed, a scene that is as close as the play comes to having a climax.
2.1 Section 1 â YazÄ«d Awaits Word from Karbala
YazÄ«d is introduced through a scene where he converses with his vizier, Ê¿Amr-e Ê¿Äá¹£ as he nervously awaits news from Karbala. He is shown to be afraid. In some renditions, at Ê¿Amr-e Ê¿Äá¹£â advice YazÄ«d summons a scribe and dictates a letter to the commander(s) at Karbala, urging the drawing of blood.15 In others, the caliph and vizier try bibliomancy with the Qurâan, but give up after a couple of attempts fail to bring the reassurance craved.16 YazÄ«d is physically sick with anxiety as he waits for word from Karbala. Renditions from NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«nâs reign onwards commonly feature a European doctor being summoned to treat him: upon making his diagnosis, the doctor orders a long list of absurd ingredients to prepare a nonsense remedy;17 YazÄ«d declares that his only remedy is wine and the blood of Ḥusain.
2.2 Section 2 â News of Victory
A messenger, or Shemr, enters with news that the deed is done, Ḥusain and his supporters have been killed, and his family taken captive.18 YazÄ«d celebrates, ordering that the city be decorated, wine poured and music played. Renditions in which the news arrives in the form of a letter can include an orator reading it from the pulpit, and a singer lauding YazÄ«dâs victory over Ḥusain.19 Shemr is congratulated and rewarded. The celebratory atmosphere is in cynical contrast to YazÄ«d and Shemrâs conversation in which YazÄ«d demands details of the slain. This is a lengthy dialogue, providing an opportunity to list the names of Ḥusainâs broader group of supporters.20 As the list progresses to his relatives and most prominent followers YazÄ«d wants to know how they were killed. Shemr obliges with graphic accounts. Designed to provoke outrage, in this scene not only do the audience relive the martyrdoms of their heroes but hear them recited with glee.21 In the continuation of the chapter I will discuss how the versification of this section supports the portrayal of YazÄ«d as a blood-thirsty tyrant. Interestingly, through this and other accounts given by Shemr in this episode, we get the antagonistsâ perspective of what happened at Karbala.
2.3 Section 3 â Captives Paraded through the Market
The prisoners are humiliated at YazÄ«dâs behest; with music and festivities, they are paraded through the market on camels, bare-headed and in chains, accompanied by the heads of their martyrs, atop spears. When they ask what the people are celebrating Shemr tells them that YazÄ«d has organised a party for them. Many townspeople throw stones at them. The family decry the injustice, asking Ḥusainâs blood-dripping head to look upon their suffering. They beg fruitlessly for mercy on the grounds of being Muslims and the descendants of the Prophet. Different renditions of the play do have benevolent characters appear here. âZan-e á¹¢Äleḥâ (the virtuous woman) comes offering bread (and water) to the captives, asking that they pray for her sick son.22 An anonymous local girl asks Umm LailÄ about Akbarâs head, allowing her to tell their story. The girl fetches water and gives it to SakÄ«neh.23 Sahl-e SÄÊ¿edÄ«, who had been a companion of the Prophet, approaches Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n, and gives Zainab an old cloak with which to cover herself.24 Unlike the refusals of help that we saw in the climactic episode, the family accept these gestures. In some renditions Zainab silences the market crowd and makes a lengthy speech decrying what has been done to them and stressing the importance of their bloodline.25 The terrible procession ends with them being housed in a ruin.
2.4 Section 4 â Hendeh Takes Pity on the Captives
Many renditions of this episode now feature the arrival of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«. However, in some later versions the prisoners are now summoned to YazÄ«dâs court and a gÅ«sheh is played in which one of his wives, Hendeh, takes pity on them.26 She too is summoned to court and, like the more privileged women of the taÊ¿ziyeh audience, she views the proceedings from behind a gauze curtain. A conversation with her aunt, or her kanÄ«z, establishes that she is a supporter of Ḥusain; she is distressed to hear that the captives are from Medina. She feels sorry for Zainab and wants to go to her, but her companion persuades her to sit on a golden chair instead, allowing a harsh contrast in how these two women are treated. However, upon hearing Zainab lament and realising her identity Hendeh rushes out to her, bare-headed in solidarity. She is scolded by YazÄ«d for shaming him. He sends her to the haram (womenâs quarters) and flippantly orders that wine be brought instead.
2.5 Section 5 â Arrival of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«
A European ambassador enters and describes what he sees. He is astonished by the combination of festivities and lamentations and senses that something has gone terribly wrong. Horrified by the cruel treatment of the captives, he wonders as to their identity.27 He arrives at court bearing an array of gifts, which YazÄ«d gladly accepts, and is seated on a throne next to the caliphâs and poured a glass of wine. This is an example of the âArrival of a Strangerâ type-scene, in this case played out over the course of the episode.28 During his entrance we have the initial elements of the scene as the foreigner observes the prisoners and the heads of the martyrs without knowing their identity. Whilst he is greatly dismayed by their desperate state, he is drawn to their resplendence, sensing their holy nature. As in other examples of this type-scene, his opening speech serves to narrate the tribulations of the family as seen from outside. At this point, he is a witness. His arrival, simultaneous with that of the captives, again creates a contrast. The foreigner is honoured: the family of the Prophet are degraded.
2.6 Section 6 â SakÄ«neh a KanÄ«z?
YazÄ«d summons his daughter to the court, she is honoured and seated beside him.29 Her entrance brings Ḥusainâs daughters to the centre of the action, providing a counterpoint to their fatherless and forlorn state. YazÄ«d has stichomythic conversations with FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ and SakÄ«neh, in which he questions them and they recount their woes. He takes pity on SakÄ«neh and decides that he will make her his daughterâs kanÄ«z. The scene ends with Zainab (or Kuls̱ūm) speaking out against a child of the Prophetâs line becoming a slave.30 SakÄ«nehâs fate still unresolved, YazÄ«d turns his attention turns to Zainab.31 This section is brought to a close with Zainab making a defiant speech about her lineage and the womenâs role as intercessors, and decrying their mistreatment. There is always an allusion to her eloquence â a trait inherited from her father. She herself warns, in a manner not dissimilar to the male heroesâ initial threats to their warrior opponents, that she has a tongue like áºÅ«-l-feqÄr (her fatherâs sword).32 YazÄ«d retorts, at best, that he gave her brother ample chance to swear allegiance. But his more common response is to tell her to hold that tongue.
2.7 Section 7 â Identifying the Heads: Ten Blows Decapitate Ḥusain
YazÄ«d calls for the heads of the martyrs to be brought forth for display. This scene provokes lament and outrage afresh. He eagerly inspects the heads, as if for entertainment, with Shemr happily confirming their identities.33 This is a chance to list, again, the names of the martyrs. As YazÄ«d goes through them he becomes agitated, fearing that Ḥusainâs head is missing. Then, Shemr has it brought in on a silver platter.
YazÄ«d demands to hear of Ḥusainâs murder, in particular the removal of his head. Shemr recounts using a sÄá¹Å«r (meat cleaver), insinuating that Ḥusain was butchered like an animal. Furthermore, Shemr tells of how it took ten blows to sever his head and of Ḥusain making an utterance with each one. The dramatists take full advantage of the distressing potential of these strikes, making each one deal a literal blow to the audience.34 With the first few Ḥusain called out the names of his family members, on the ninth he uttered, âGod forgive my peopleâ and on the tenth, he begged for a drop of water. âDid you give him some?â asks YazÄ«d. âNo,â Shemr replies, âI kicked him in the mouth with my boot.â Shemr recounts that Ḥusain then expired, and the ground and heavens trembled. YazÄ«d orders more wine.
2.8 Section 8 â YazÄ«d Defiles Ḥusainâs Head: Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n Speaks Out
YazÄ«d gloats over his victory and dishonours Ḥusain by pouring wine into his mouth and hitting it with a wooden stick. The family cry out in objection. In some renditions Ḥusainâs head starts to sing, making a short Qurâanic recitation and then comforting SakÄ«neh and Zainab.35 Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n confronts YazÄ«d, saying that his hands should be cut off. YazÄ«d tries to silence him but he is undeterred, proudly alluding to his prophetic ancestry. YazÄ«d demands that Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n acknowledge him as the rightful leader. He refuses, saying that in killing Ḥusain YazÄ«d has done far more than he understands. He asserts the purity of his own lineage and calls YazÄ«d the seed of adultery, in response to which YazÄ«d calls for the executioner â enter Shemr.
As Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n bids his family farewell Zainab calls to the Muslims present: will no one come to their aid? She finally turns to the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«. During this speech she strikes her own head with a stone in grief.36 In some renditions it is SakÄ«neh and FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ who speak these lines and go to the foreigner for help,37 in others he intervenes of his own accord.38 This is a highly emotive scene, demonstrating the heroism of all family members and inciting a feeling of guilt in the Muslim audience.
2.9 Section 9 â Ambassadorâs Intervention and the Appearance of Ê¿AlÄ«
The ambassador denounces what a Muslim king is doing to his fellow Muslims, appealing fruitlessly to Shemr and then YazÄ«d. Zainab desperately implores YazÄ«d to show mercy; she calls to her father for help. As Shemr wields his dagger in readiness, Ê¿AlÄ«âs ghost appears and orders him to stop. This is an example of the âApparition from Beyond the Graveâ type-scene (but with a significant variation that I will go on to discuss).39 Shemr is terrified and tells YazÄ«d that Ḥaidar (Ê¿AlÄ«), holding áºÅ«-l-feqÄr, appeared from the direction of the qeblah, and that he shook so much that he dropped his dagger.40 YazÄ«d hisses at him to be quiet and not dare say such a scandalous thing in public.41 Attention then shifts back to the ĪlchÄ«, who is drawn to Ḥusainâs head and wondering at a prophetic identity. As YazÄ«d informs him that this is Ḥusain b. Ê¿AlÄ« there is a distinct shift in tempo and in the ambassadorâs manner, as he begins to tell a story.
2.10 Section 10 â ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« as a Storyteller, His Conversion (and Martyrdom).
The foreigner recounts that, once upon a time, when serving as an envoy for âYūḥannÄ-ShÄhâ (a fictional âKing Johnâ), he went to Medina to meet Muḥammad and saw Ḥusain as a child. He tells various stories of Ḥusainâs childhood that affirm his exceptionalness, his closeness to God, and the predestined nature of his martyrdom. This is a curious interlude, with the ambassador taking on the function of a storyteller. The digression ends with him cursing YazÄ«d for what he has done and YazÄ«d ordering his execution. The play then rapidly closes with the foreigner (at his own request) being converted to Islam by Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n. It is then intimated that he is executed. Importantly, mirroring Ḥusain, his last wish is for water. In the ambassadorâs case it is granted, constituting a further call for indignation as a foreigner is given what Ḥusain was denied.
2.11 (Section 11 â Martyrdom of Ruqaiyeh)
It is relatively common for a gÅ«sheh concerning Ḥusainâs young daughter Ruqaiyeh to be played as an epilogue.42 YazÄ«d orders that Ḥusainâs head be taken to the ruins, that his grieving daughter might see it. Ruqaiyeh converses with her fatherâs head, recounting the hardship she has suffered on their journey, beatings, humiliation, hunger, thirst and the threat of being sold as a slave. She asks if he knows, if he can see. She then expires with grief. Zainab and Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n mourn for her and lay out her body, her feet towards the qeblah. Shemr tells YazÄ«d that the child has died and for the first time expresses regret, also rebuking YazÄ«d for his cruelty. YazÄ«d sorrows too and orders that a washer of the dead bathe Ruqaiyehâs body, that she be shown respect in death.43 As the washerwoman looks over the girlâs body, she questions Zainab about how she sustained each injury, acting as a witness to Ruqaiyehâs mistreatment. The scene closes with Zainab, sometimes accompanied by the family, calling to FÄá¹emeh-ye ZahrÄ to help them, and decrying the cruelty of fate.44
3 Diplomacy through the Taʿziyeh Lens: The European Ambassador
3.1 Tracing His Story
As I have mentioned, the taÊ¿ziyeh character ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« reflects a Byzantine ambassador, present at YazÄ«dâs court and sympathetic to the Karbala captives, who is described in certain manuscript versions of BalÊ¿amÄ«âs TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh-ye ṬabarÄ«, one of which dates to the 6th/12th century.45 This is a fascinating example of an old and little-known story being conserved in the taÊ¿ziyeh. This character is not present in the other historical sources used in this study. Peacock comments that he has not been able to trace the scene involving this figure to other early sources, but acknowledges its presence in the taÊ¿ziyeh. He states that this character was not introduced to the taÊ¿ziyeh until the 19th century. This should be revised to the mid-18th century (at latest): the ambassador is mentioned in Carsten Niebuhrâs spectator account of a taÊ¿ziyeh performed by the ShiÊ¿a of Kharq Island in 1179/1765 (discussed in chapter 1), and the Zand rendition of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm includes a script for the ambassador from 1184/1770â71.46 Comparison with later renditions of the play show that the content of the scene involving this character remained stable from that point onwards. Thus, although interaction with European visitors was a prominent feature of the reign of the Qajars, this scene bears the influence of an earlier period.
A Byzantine ambassador at YazÄ«dâs court does feature in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat but the story told about him differs markedly from that in the taÊ¿ziyeh which, intriguingly, is closer to the BalÊ¿amÄ« version. BalÊ¿amÄ« records the Byzantine speaking out against YazÄ«dâs abhorrent treatment of his Prophetâs grandson, then converting to Islam and being executed. In KÄshefÄ«âs rendition the foreigner does chastise YazÄ«d but does not convert in this scene: in fact, he tells YazÄ«d that he had already converted to Islam decades earlier after meeting Muḥammad in Medina, and he and his family have been living secretly as Muslims ever since.47 YazÄ«d does become furious, but simply ejects the ambassador from his court rather than ordering his execution, expressing frustration that he cannot punish an envoy of Caesarâs. The taÊ¿ziyeh does borrow the idea of the ambassador having visited Muḥammad in Medina, but the dramatists elected to have him convert on meeting the Karbala survivors, and usually close the scene with his execution. They thus follow the plot of the older narrative, transmitted by BalÊ¿amÄ«, which indicates that they received this story from a source additional to KÄshefÄ«. Their electing to recount this version of events may well have been because it better fitted the format that they customarily applied to treating the interactions of benevolent foreigners with the ahl-e bait and their kin: the stranger becoming overwhelmed by their presence to the extent of converting and sacrificing himself for them â the Arrival of a Stranger type-scene.
Performer playing the European Ambassador, Garmaseh, Isfahan Province, 13th Muḥarram 1439/2017
Whatever the source, in their interpretation of this character the dramatists brought him into their own time. They modernised his story. A Byzantine ambassador visiting YazÄ«dâs court was not historically implausible: in fact, Syria had been taken from the Byzantines during the Muslim conquests of the 630s, but the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists were not historians. Whilst KÄshefÄ« was clear that he was Byzantine, in their imagining of this foreign envoy they made of him a European, the type who visited Iran during the Safavid, Zand and Qajar periods. They turned him into a recognisable character of their own time and in doing so give us a glimpse of the composersâ impression of âthe Europeanâ.
3.2 Modernising the Foreigner
The modernisation of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« is perhaps most evident in his dress. The memoires of European visitors to Iran include numerous accounts of their clothes being borrowed to costume this character. This practice had clearly already begun by the time of Niebuhrâs spectator account: he describes the ambassador as dressed in European clothes and a gilded hat (a minor flaw being that he lacked socks). In this case Niebuhr does know that the character is supposed to be a Byzantine; he calls him a Greek, and comments on the incongruence of this identity with his attire.48 In his account of visiting Iran in 1835â36 Lieutenant Charles Stuart speaks of taÊ¿ziyeh, discusses the European Ambassadorâs conversion and martyrdom, and tells of lending clothes to costume this character. Cocked hats were particularly in demand for costuming foreigners, and he recalls that in the year in question the ambassador would be appearing in âthe uniform of His Majestyâs 4th Light Dragoonsâ.49 Captain Richard Wilbraham was again asked to lend elements of his uniform, and his chairs as props, for a performance of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm in 1254/1838.50 There are many such accounts.
The idea of the ambassador being Byzantine appears to have been dropped relatively quickly in the taÊ¿ziyeh context. Whereas in KÄshefÄ«âs Rawżat he is the envoy of âQaiá¹£ar-e RÅ«mâ (the Caesar of Rome, or Byzantium),51 in the taÊ¿ziyeh scripts he consistently describes himself as representing PÄdeshÄh-he Farang, the âKing of Europeâ. This is also attested by spectators. In Francklinâs 1202/1787 account from Shiraz he is described as âan Ambassador from one of the European Statesâ.52 Stuart and Wilbraham, who lent their uniforms for this character, certainly saw him as European. Sheil uses her own initiative whilst spectating in Tehran in 1266/1849 to deduce that he must have originally been âa Greekâ but tells of how âwith immense contempt of chronologyâ he is generally referred to as the âElchee Ingleesâ (English Ambassador).53 By contrast Carla Serena, spectating at Tekiyeh Dawlat in 1295/1878, describes him as French.54 The exact nature of his European identity was not important; he was a representative of his kind â the Western visitor. This appears to have been understood by the audience. Spectating in 1259/1843, Berezin tells of how the women in the tekiyeh often looked towards the loge where he and other foreigners were sitting when the ambassador was speaking.55
Indeed, not only his dress but the foreignerâs speech and material offerings to YazÄ«d portray him as a European of the composersâ own time. From our earliest example of the script, despite using Persian verse to describe what he sees as he enters, the ambassadorâs initial address to YazÄ«d is in a sort of gibberish, showing the composersâ impression of the incomprehensibility of his tongue. This gibberish contains a mix of languages and nonsense words but with just enough Persian to indicate the topic, and to bring certain ideas to mind. We see this in the following example of the ambassadorâs greeting, from the Zand rendition, which includes the words âfarangâ (Europe) and âbarÄye YazÄ«dâ (for YazÄ«d): the words âyaqmÄâ (plunder or booty), âkÄmâ (palate), âgelÅ«â (throat),56 and ârabÅ«sâ (glutton) contained within the lines are possibly deliberate allusions to YazÄ«dâs unchivalrous and debauched character.
Whilst this version of the greeting from the Zand period contains elements of Arabic and Persian (possibly Turkish too if we count the loan word yaqmÄ), later versions of this nonsense greeting, from the late 19th century and beyond, also include French, showing the diversification in the foreign influences of the composersâ surroundings. In such renditions the ambassador ends his gibberish greeting with:
ÙرÙÚ¯Û :
باÙÚÙر Ù ÙسÛÙ ÛزÛد 58
European [Ambassador]: Bonjour Monsieur Yazīd.
Thus, he is no longer a Byzantine but, on this occasion, a Frenchman.
Yazīd replies:
Yazīd: O virtuous young man, do not speak that foreign tongue! Speak another language that will be clear to me.
The ambassador responds in Persian and offers an array of gifts. The modern nature of certain items separates this character from his Byzantine origins.
Foreigner: O cultured king, my greetings to you. I am one of the ministers of the King of Europe. The King of Europe has made you a humble offering. Accept these various gifts from me, two telescopes (or cameras),61 two wristwatches and two scabbards are proffered O prince, conqueror of the Khaibar.62
The succinct offering of telescopes (or cameras), watches and scabbards that we see in the quotation above feature frequently across my sample of renditions of the play, perhaps owing to what appears to have been a relative standardisation of the verse at this section.63 Certain other scripts have him offer gifts in vast numbers: in the Zand period version he offers 1000 cannons and muskets, 1000 slave children, 1000 [gold and jewel] encrusted swords, sugar, jewels and scents, 1000 full purses of gold, 1000 weights of satin and the same of brocade; Cerulli MS 405 (Mazandaran, late 19th cent.) has him offer watches and scabbards, not two, but 400 of each, along with vast numbers of other gifts including horses, pearls, fabrics and weapons. Interestingly, in this version the ambassador says that his king would offer military support against YazÄ«dâs enemies should he need it.
Indeed, the characterisation of the ambassador has strong military overtones. Whilst some of his gifts, such as the pearls and textiles, are goods that may have been being brought to Iran from South Asia by traders, weapons and gadgets feature most consistently amongst these offerings, with firearms being a relatively common element.64 In the Zand rendition shots are fired to announce his arrival. Berezin describes military style music being played as the ambassador approaches and his procession of gifts including ten trays, a pair of pistols (or another arm) on each.65 Sheil, whose husbandâs clothes were borrowed for this character, tells of how âthe costume of his Excellency should be European and military.â66
The combination of the foreignerâs attire and gifts with the dialogue of his initial meeting with YazÄ«d not only pull him distinctively into the composersâ time of writing, but also give an idea of the composersâ perception of what European visitors had to offer: in the foreigner modernised we see a military man, speaking a strange tongue, bringing gadgets and firepower. Whilst naturalistic portrayal is not usually a concern for the taÊ¿ziyeh players, the picture that they paint here is, perhaps, not unrealistic. There is a remarkable similarity between the gifts offered by the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«, and those described by William Ouseley who recounts having delivered gifts to Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« ShÄh QÄjÄr when acting as an envoy for the British Ambassador â including telescopes, wrist watches, and guns.67
Given that the ambassador, who is very positively portrayed, came so much to resemble a foreign visitor of the period contemporary to the performances â performances attended by many foreign visitors â one wonders at the reception to this story, and its political significance. Indeed, it has been suggested by Calmard that performances of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm ceased during two periods of the Qajar dynastyâs reign, when relations with European visitors became strained.68 The first of these periods covers the latter years of the reign of Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« ShÄh (d. 1250/1834), and the aftermath of Iranâs military defeat by the Russians and the treaties of Gulistan (1228/1813) and Turkamanchay (1243/1828) that saw heavy territorial losses and major economic and political concessions on the Iranian side. The second period was the 1860s, when foreign diplomatsâ attendance at taÊ¿ziyeh was prohibited by an edict, issued in 1271/1855, which appears to have aimed to quell domestic political tensions, particularly the grievances of the Ê¿ulamÄʾ (Muslim clerics, scholars and jurists).69 The edict was relaxed by the late 1880s: many foreigners did attend the performances during the interim period, although perhaps not by official invitation.
Calmardâs suggestion that the character of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« found a more or less favourable reception depending on the political climate, seems reasonable, but the evidence upon which he bases the assertion about the two periods in question is flawed. His conclusion with regards to the 1820sâ30s rests on the assumption that the collection of plays that Chodzko purchased in Tehran in 1249/1833 represented a sort of official repertoire during the last years of the reign of Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« ShÄh. Calmard finds it highly significant that BÄzÄr-e ShÄm is not included. It is true that the manuscript does include most of the prominent Karbala martyrdom narratives in chronological order. However, it does not feature the arrival of the captives in Kufa or Damascus: not only does the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« not feature, neither does YazÄ«d. This would be significant if we were to draw conclusions based on the idea of this being an official repertoire; but there is not much reason to believe it was. While the collection features many important episodes, it also features one fragment and two renditions of two particular plays, so it is better to see the contents of the manuscript as a selection of the plays in the possession of Ḥusain Ê¿AlÄ« KhÄn (the director from whom Chodzko made his purchase).70 If we are to read anything into why he did not include BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, he may have politely omitted to sell his foreign envoy customer a play in which a foreign envoy is executed. Furthermore, despite not owning a copy of the script of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, Chodzko had seen the episode. In the introduction to his French translation of certain plays from his manuscript, while discussing the welcome of Europeans at the tekiyeh, he mentions the scene involving the European Ambassador.71
There is further firm evidence against the case for BÄzÄr-e ShÄm having fallen out of fashion during the 1860s. Calmard claims that in the 1860s the story of âLa fille chrétienneâ (Majles-e zan-e naá¹£rÄnÄ«) eclipsed the episode featuring the European Ambassador as an important play foregrounding a Christian character.72 The only source given here is Gobineauâs spectator account, but, while Gobineau does give a detailed description of a performance of Majles-e zan-e naá¹£rÄnÄ«, nowhere does he say that it became more popular than BÄzÄr-e ShÄm: furthermore, whilst not mentioning it by name, he does indeed discuss BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, mentioning the European Ambassadorâs sympathy, YazÄ«dâs mistreatment of the captives and other key narrative details.73 Gobineau was certainly familiar with the contents of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, indicating that it was indeed being played during his stay in Iran (between the mid-1850s and mid-1860s).
The reception of the foreign ambassador character is an intriguing topic. Calmard raises the important question, but further research is needed before conclusions can be drawn. It may well be that, despite him wearing the garb of a contemporary European visitor, the taÊ¿ziyeh audienceâs relationship with this character ran deeper than their perceptions of 19th century Europeans. Certainly the scripts do not satirise or lampoon the ambassador. This, as we will see below, is in contrast to the scene involving the foreign doctor.
3.3 The Foreigner as a Narrator and Storyteller: Ḥusainâs Childhood Recounted
Modernisation aside, a further and somewhat surprising way in which the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists added new levels to the character of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ« was by giving him a distinct narrator function. To an extent, this is in keeping with the âArrival of a Strangerâ type-scene that gives the format to the taÊ¿ziyeh treatment of his story, the âstrangerâ always initially assuming a narratorâs voice. Here we will see the importance of this initial presentation but, also, how later in the play the dramatists press this function in a curious way that is quite unique to this episode.
The captives are marched through the market onstage, but it is the words of the foreigner that fully communicate the disturbing cruelty of the scene.
Foreigner: What are these embers I find glowing in my chest? What is this vexation apparent in my heart? The poignard of sadness has doubled Saturnâs back. The sword of grief is upon Geminiâs head. One group are in a flower garden playing flute and drum: another party beat their heads in passionate uproar. For drums and horns it looks as if it were NowrÅ«z (Persian New Year), or ʿĪd-e ʾAÅ¼á¸¥Ä (Eid al-Adha).75
Foreigner: O Lord, who are this cavalcade of good people bound in chains from head to toe!?77 O Lord, let them not be Christians, for to see them shakes oneâs very organs [literally, causes them to leave the body]. Woe the injustice of the executioner who struck these princes from their feet!
He goes on to describe the heads of the key protagonists, Ḥusain, Akbar, QÄsem, Aá¹£ghar and Ê¿AbbÄs â their beauty and the suffering evident in their faces, and he senses their tender relationships with the womenfolk. Apart from his preoccupation that the captives are not Christians, the ambassadorâs own identity is secondary when performing this part of his role.
Later in the play, after Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n has narrowly escaped execution, the ambassador becomes a narrator once more, initially picking up from his opening speech, but this time going much further. Crying, he stares in awe at Ḥusainâs head; he recognises holiness and considers the different Abrahamic prophets to whom the head may belong. He becomes angry at YazÄ«d: how could he have treated these people in a way that no unbeliever would treat an unbeliever? He demands to know the headâs identity. When told it is Ḥusain, the European has the strongest reaction, at which YazÄ«d demands to know their connection. In answering, the European adopts the baḥr-e á¹avÄ«l form: the change of metre marks a change in the ambassadorâs role as he goes beyond simply narrating what he sees and becomes a storyteller, narrating episodes from the distant past. Whilst he initially features in the story that he tells, his own character is temporarily overtaken by his function as a bard, or more precisely, a naqqÄl.
He recounts having met Muḥammad in Medina when sent as an envoy for YūḥannÄ-ShÄh. He describes Ḥusain as a resplendent child, and records that, crying and kissing the boyâs neck, Muḥammad told him how Ḥusainâs head would be cruelly taken at Karbala. Asking who would be responsible, the ambassador was told âYazÄ«dâ. He berates YazÄ«d for not comprehending Ḥusainâs identity, and says he will tell him something to make him understand. He then narrates a series of stories â to all intents and purposes, embedded narratives. We have not seen anything like this scene in the episodes discussed up until now.
The ambassador as a storyteller at this point features in all renditions of the play among my sample. The stories told vary somewhat; however, they all show Ḥusain as chosen by God, and adored by Muḥammad and indeed the whole of creation. One of the most commonly recited stories concerns a gazelle. One day, a fawn gets caught in a hunterâs trap: the hunter gives it to Muḥammad who gives it to Ḥasan, and when Ḥusain sees Ḥasanâs fawn he goes to his grandfather (in the mosque), cries and says that he also wants a fawn. Such is his distress that Muḥammad goes to the mother gazelle, tells it of Ḥusainâs identity and his tears, and asks it for a fawn for Ḥusain. The gazelle brings another fawn to the al-Aqá¹£Ä Mosque.78
A further story, commonly repeated across renditions of this scene, is of Muḥammad and the boy Ḥusain travelling together to a house where they will be guests. A cloud appears and rains down fire and water. Ḥusain tries to go to his mother. Afraid of harm coming to him the Prophet turns his face to the sky and asks the Almighty to stop the rain.79 There are also stories about Ḥusainâs birth being honoured by angels, and of Muḥammad receiving news of Ḥusainâs divinely ordained mission. For example, the Zand rendition includes the story of Fuá¹rus, the once fallen angel (mentioned in chapter 5), who was pardoned by God and whose wings were restored upon Ḥusainâs birth. Throughout these stories, in place of Ḥusainâs name, the ambassador/storyteller frequently refers to âthe owner of this headâ. This prevents the audience from becoming absorbed in the narrated world of Ḥusainâs childhood, instead causing them to remember, at once, the resplendent child and his cruel death. The storytelling interlude is brought to a close by the end of the baḥr-e á¹avÄ«l.
As an outsider the European has a particular narrative viewpoint, but it is curious that the farangÄ« â with his pistols and wristwatches â is the one who knows Ḥusainâs childhood anecdotes; a seemingly unlikely vehicle, the composers use him to insert the narratives about Ḥusain that are likely to have been recounted by the storytellers. Indeed, in chapter 2 I discussed how the storytelling practices present in the environment of the emergent taÊ¿ziyeh tradition influenced the structure of the plays themselves. Whilst broadly following the detail of the main events at Karbala as they had received it, we have seen that the dramatists included many shorter stories, gÅ«sheh-hÄ, within the episodes. Like the sections of narrative material that form a storytellerâs repertoire, these gÅ«sheh-hÄ can be added to extend the performance, or omitted if need be.80 In the role assumed by the European, we catch a glimpse of the storytellers who were part of the environment in which the taÊ¿ziyeh took shape.
There is also a possible direct allusion to these storytellers when the European begins his narration of Ḥusainâs past with âbe-shenÅ«â (Hear!), a formula used by professional storytellers to indicate the opening of a new narrative chapter.81 Furthermore, the story of the fawn exists as an independent sub-episode among the Zand collection, and features the takhalluá¹£ of the composer NÄá¹eq.82 As I have discussed above, NÄá¹eq is said to have been a sukhanvarÄ« participant, thus meaning that he belonged to the Ê¿Ajam dervish order, who specialised in religious storytelling. The story of the fawn is likely to have been part of their repertoire.
It should, however, be noted that giving this role to the ambassador was not entirely a taÊ¿ziyeh innovation. Whilst the dramatists crafted the scene, using the shift into baḥr-e á¹avÄ«l to separate it from the rest of the playâs action, in KÄshefÄ«âs account of the Byzantine ambassadorâs encounter with YazÄ«d he also tells a story from Ḥusainâs childhood. Unlike in the taÊ¿ziyeh, he does not tell story after story, but only one single story. While the only rendition of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm amongst my sample to feature this particular story is the Pelly translation,83 the European Ambassador as a storyteller is surely rooted in KÄshefÄ«âs treatment of the Byzantine, albeit rendered an anachronism by his 18thâ19th century depiction, and the scene elaborated to incorporate a variety of stories familiar to the composers.
4 Technical Anomalies
4.1 Variation of the Type-Scene as a Dramatic Device
In this episode we see an example of a further important compositional phenomenon. A type-scene, a structure with which the audience will be familiar, diverges significantly from its usual format to communicate the exceptional nature of a situation. I do not mean to suggest that the taʿziyeh audience would have recognised a type-scene as a compositional technique, but they would have been familiar with certain scenarios that recurred in the plays of the repertoire, and would have built up expectations of how they would unfold. Variation of the elements of a type-scene as a subtle means of communicating a message to a well-versed audience is a phenomenon identified by Robert Alter (discussed in chapter 2). The taʿziyeh audience were certainly well-versed: participation, year after year, would have forged a strong understanding among composers, performers, and audience. I have already argued for the intensity of this relationship being such that the audience had a major influence on the development of the central episodes. With reference to my current point what is important is that the conditions were ideal for the setting of conventions that when broken would create a strong impression.
In BÄzÄr-e ShÄm we see the conventions of a type-scene broken in the apparition of the ghost of Ê¿AlÄ« and his frightening Shemr into dropping his knife, thus preventing Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«nâs execution. This is an example of the âApparition from Beyond the Graveâ type-scene, of which we have seen other instances in the episodes discussed above. Normally, the visitor offers comfort and mourns with the hero or heroine, but no matter how drastic the situation, does not intervene to alter the course of events. For example, when FÄá¹emeh-ye ZahrÄ appears to the dying Ḥusain, she does not attempt to save his life; rather, she laments, provides moral support and then disappears, leaving him to Shemrâs knife. Likewise, when we saw Ê¿AlÄ« appear before Ê¿AbbÄs in the latterâs martyrdom episode, he did not bring water to save his son from his fateful raid on the Euphrates, instead simply offering reassurance. Such is the pattern of this type-scene. However, in this episode that convention is broken by Ê¿AlÄ« acting to save Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n. This break from the familiar highlights the vital importance of this moment. Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n is Ḥusainâs only remaining son. Were he to be executed, the light of the imamate would be extinguished. The gravity of such an eventuality is emphasized in Ê¿AlÄ«âs own words to Shemr:
The Family of the Prophet enter YazÄ«dâs Court, painting on tile, anonymous artist, Tekiyeh-ye MuÊ¿Även al-Mulk, Kermanshah
Ghost of AlÄ«: Do not kill, for the heavens will be brought down! Do not kill, for the heart[s] of the ahl-e bait will be turned to blood. Do not kill, for Ḥusainâs sisters are strangers [in a foreign land]! Do not kill, for Ḥusainâs daughters are small!
The idea of the heavens being brought down expresses the unthinkable situation of the world being without a living Imam, something that cannot be allowed to happen â and this necessitates intervention.
Whilst Shemr is frightened into dropping his dagger, Ê¿AlÄ«âs exchange with his grandson follows the usual format of such apparitions. They have a short conversation in which Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n asks his grandfather to look upon his sorry state, broken and enchained, in response to which Ê¿AlÄ« reassures him that his suffering is necessary for them to intercede for the sins of the community on the Day of Judgement. As a whole, the scene makes clear that while Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«nâs suffering is part of a grand celestial plan, it is not yet time for his martyrdom. That had to be prevented at all costs.
The breaking of the conventions of this type-scene is extremely rare, reserved for exceptional occasions. An example of a further instance is found in Ghaá¹£b-e bÄgh-e Fadak (The Usurpation of the Garden of Fadak), portraying injustice inflicted upon the ahl-e bait after the death of the Prophet. As FÄá¹emeh-ye ZahrÄâs inheritance rights are being usurped, Muḥammad speaks to Ê¿AlÄ« from beyond the grave and gives him his ring, a symbol of his seal of approval being placed on Ê¿AlÄ« and his and FÄá¹emehâs line as successors.85 This, like Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«nâs survival to continue the imamate, was an issue of vital importance.
4.2 Rapid Fire Dialogue: ChahÄr-pÄreh
We have already seen examples of the composers using changes of metre for dramatic effect. Metrical changes support the idea of a verbal duel (in The Martyrdom of Ê¿AbbÄs) and in BÄzÄr-e ShÄm the shift into baḥr-e á¹avÄ«l allows the European Ambassador to switch into what we might term âstoryteller modeâ, and out again. Similarly, BÄzÄr-e ShÄm includes an interesting use of form to support the characterisation of YazÄ«d in his initial conversation with Shemr. In the opening scene we have seen YazÄ«d sick with desire for news of the outcome of the battle, in particular for word of Ḥusainâs death. Upon Shemrâs arrival from Karbala he devours the details of the massacre: he is a blood-thirsty tyrant, hungry for news of the slaughter, and his dialogue with Shemr is delivered in what taÊ¿ziyeh performers term chahÄr-pÄreh (or á¹£ad-pÄreh). This is a conversation in rhyming prose, with each speaker giving very short, even single word interjections, creating a staccato, rapid fire exchange:86
As the conversation continues YazÄ«d speaks in imperatives and interrogatives. For example, âdÄ«gar kÄ«?â (Who else?), or after a morsel of information âdÄ«gar begÅ«â (Tell me more!), with Shemr firing back responses. As he lists those killed, YazÄ«d accelerates, wanting to know more, and more. In the manuscript versions it is not uncommon for an entire page of the booklet containing YazÄ«dâs lines to be filled with repetition of the word: dÄ«gar? dÄ«gar? dÄ«gar? (What else? What else? What else?). It is clear that in performance this would have upped the pace, showing YazÄ«d as frenzied, anxious for details. He is not sated until Shemr has recounted Ḥusainâs murder and the capture of his family. This shift of form is an effective manner in which to depict YazÄ«dâs thirst for Ḥusainâs blood.
This dialogue in chahÄr-pÄreh is commonly featured in the scripts amongst my sample from the late 13th/19th century onwards: the same scene in the Zand rendition of the script is in stichomythic verse, but it is difficult to know whether the use of chahÄr-pÄreh was indeed an innovation of the high point of the taÊ¿ziyehâs patronage (the 1840s to the 1870s being the period within which we have seen many important evolutions in dramatic content). The Pelly version does not include this scene; spectator accounts do not help. The Zand script is our only early example. The question of when the scene adopted this form is of particular interest due to the similarity between this dialogue in chahÄr-pÄreh and certain works of prominent Qajar poet MÄ«rzÄ á¸¤abÄ«b-AllÄh ShÄ«rÄzÄ«, better known by his pen name âQÄʾÄnÄ«â (b. 1223/1808; d. 1270/1854). The similarity is demonstrated by the following extract from QÄʾÄnÄ«âs famous elegy about Karbala, constructed as a dialogue:
بارد. ÚÙØ Ø®ÙÙ. Ú©ÙØ Ø¯ÛدÙ. ÚساÙØ Ø±Ùز ٠شب. ÚØ±Ø§Ø Ø§Ø² غ٠. Ú©Ø¯Ø§Ù ØºÙ Ø ØºÙ Ø³Ùطا٠اÙÙÛا .
Ùا٠ش Ú©Ù Ø¨Ø¯Ø ØسÛÙ. ز ÙÚاد Ú©ÙØ Ø§Ø² عÙÛ. ٠ا٠ش ک٠بÙØ¯Ø Ùاط٠Ù. جدش Ú©ÙØ Ù ØµØ·ÙÛ 87
Itâs raining. What? Blood. Who? The eye. How? Day and night. Why? From sorrow. What sorrow? Sorrow for the sultan of the awliyÄʾ (defenders or friends).88 What was his name? Ḥusain. What about lineage? Of Ê¿AlÄ«. Who was his mother? FÄá¹emeh. Whoâs the grandfather? Muá¹£á¹afÄ (Muḥammad).
Based on this resemblance, Shahidi has suggested that QÄʾÄnÄ«âs work influenced the taÊ¿ziyeh composersâ adoption of chahÄr-pÄreh for certain dialogues.89 However, the content of the earliest extant taÊ¿ziyeh script, GhÄrat-e khaimeh- hÄ, dated 1136/1724 (the edited version published after Shahidiâs time of writing), calls this into question. Indeed, it gives reason to believe that in the case of chahÄr-pÄreh the influence may well have been in the other direction, QÄʾÄnÄ«âs verse being inspired by the rapid fire dialogues of certain taÊ¿ziyeh plays. The script includes a dialogue between Ebn-e SaÊ¿d and Shemr in chahÄr-pÄreh.90 It is short but similar in tone to the BÄzÄr-e ShÄm example. In the exchange in question Shemr is anxious that the order be given to raid Ḥusainâs camp, and urges Ebn-e SaÊ¿d to that effect. This shows that, in fact, the taÊ¿ziyeh composers were using this form around a century before QÄʾÄnÄ«âs time.
It is speculative, but nonetheless worthy of comment, that it may well have been the very dialogue between YazÄ«d and Shemr from BÄzÄr-e ShÄm that inspired QÄʾÄnÄ«âs elegy. Not only is the form similar but the poemâs themes coincide with this episodeâs content. Having begun with Ḥusainâs killing, QÄʾÄnÄ« treats the injustices inflicted upon the rest of his family but, interestingly, moves quickly past the martyrdoms to focus on the plight of Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n and the family in Damascus. Then, he finishes by denouncing the fact that it was a Muslim, and not a follower of any other religion, who was responsible. This is a major concern of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, the sympathetic figure of the Christian European Ambassador driving home YazÄ«dâs cruelty and hypocrisy.
QÄʾÄnÄ« would certainly have been familiar with the taÊ¿ziyeh. He was a court poet under both Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« ShÄh, and Muḥammad ShÄh QÄjÄr, and became poet laureate to NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«n after his coronation in 1264/1848.91 He lived and worked in a time when the taÊ¿ziyeh had begun its great flourishing, and would no doubt have attended performances. As we have seen above, there were many performances of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm during this period. While we have no evidence of YazÄ«dâs interrogation of Shemr being in chahÄr-pÄreh by then, we do know that chahÄr-pÄreh had been used by the composers long before. The idea of QÄʾÄnÄ« being influenced by the taÊ¿ziyeh rather than vice versa, as suggested by his famous elegy reflecting BÄzÄr-e ShÄm in both theme and form, is interesting as a potential example of high culture â court culture â being shaped by what had not long since been an art form of the masses.
5 The Theme of Exposure
The concept of nÄmÅ«s (honour) is central to the taÊ¿ziyehâs Muḥarram cycle. With Ḥusain refusing to capitulate, YazÄ«d, and those who side with him, seek dominance over Ḥusainâs house by killing the menfolk and dishonouring the women, who in the taÊ¿ziyeh are forcibly exposed. Not only are their tents burned but their veils are torn from their heads and it is suggested that they are left little with which to cover their bodies. This theme reaches its culmination in BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, provoking the audience to feel moral outrage at the cruelty of the antagonists, but also allowing the depiction of the womenâs strength and stoicism.
The exposure of the womenfolk has been repeatedly foretold in earlier plays of the cycle. The family attempt to prepare for it. For example, in Cerulli MS 726, The Martyrdom of Imam Ḥusain, Zainab asks Ḥusain what they should do. He tells them to put on old garments beneath their clothes, to avoid being exposed when the enemy pillage their possessions. In Cerulli MS 27, The Martyrdom of QÄsem, when making his vaá¹£iyyat, QÄsem asks his mother to protect his bride when the enemy raid the camp and not to let them take the chador from her head, exposing her face. In anticipation of such a threat, in the Litten rendition of the climactic episode, as Ḥusain sleeps and the enemy approach the camp, Zainab calls the women to her and tells FÄá¹emeh the bride to sit quietly at her side.
In BÄzÄr-e ShÄm the women speak of being beaten but it is through exposure that we see them humiliated. Without the protection of their veils, they are paraded through the market. Their temporary dwelling place after this ordeal is a ruin, repeatedly described as being without door or roof, thus again, without cover. Still in their exposed state they are filed into YazÄ«dâs court before a host of nÄmaḥram, men from outside their own household, by whom (according to the norms governing nÄmÅ«s) they should not be seen uncovered. The fact that the woman are âbÄ« meÊ¿jarâ (without a head covering), is stated so often in the verse of this play as to become conspicuously repetitive. However, we must take into account that in performance, these exposed women are played by men, covered from head to toe, their heads and faces very much veiled.
In the court setting the outrage of the women being exposed is amplified through the inclusion of the scene involving YazÄ«dâs wife Hendeh. That Hendeh is seated in court behind a curtain while the female descendants of the ahl-e bait are exposed underscores the contempt with which they are treated. Furthermore, when Hendeh becomes aware of Zainabâs identity and rushes out to her, bare-headed in solidarity, YazÄ«dâs hypocrisy is evident as he scolds of her:
YazÄ«d: You are without shame my reprobate wife! You have publicly disgraced me. With the court full of male strangers you came bare-headed out of the womenâs sanctuary.
He then rebukes her for making him a laughing stock, demonstrating the deliberate nature of his degradation of the captives. It would have been enough to leave the audience to see this hypocrisy for themselves, but the composers leave nothing to chance. They have Hendeh rebuke YazÄ«d, spelling out the dichotomy between what he desires for his own women and those of his Prophetâs house.93
Amongst the wider repertoire, there is also an example of female forced exposure as revenge. It occurs in the play AmÄ«r TÄ«mÅ«r (Prince Timur). This is about the historical figure TÄ«mÅ«r (ruler of the Timurid empire 771â807/ 1370â1405, also known as Tamerlane) attacking Damascus. TÄ«mÅ«râs capture and sacking of Damascus is a real historical event that took place in 803/1400 when the city was under Mamluk rule. However, seen through the taÊ¿ziyeh lens, it takes on a special significance. The fictional TÄ«mÅ«râs desire to attack Damascus is motivated by the wish to avenge Ḥusain and his house. When he arrives, the terrified governor offers TÄ«mÅ«r gifts, which he refuses â until the governor offers his daughterâs hand in marriage. TÄ«mÅ«r asks that the bride be decorated and then brought to him so that they can converse, but he does not marry her: rather, when she is presented to him, he humiliates her by having her golden robes ripped off, the veil pulled from her head and her earrings torn from her ears.94 This is tit for tat exposure and pillaging; the women of Ḥusainâs family had their possessions looted at Karbala and they were forcibly exposed in Damascus, so TÄ«mÅ«r avenges them by dishonouring the Damascene governorâs daughter. Undeterred by the huge lag in time, not to mention the change of ruling dynasty, the composers have simplified things, equating the rulers of Damascus with the oppressorsâ clan.
In BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, Zainab remains defiant in the face of the indignity forced upon her. Despite being uncovered against her wishes, she does not hide. Rather, she publicly denounces her oppressors. Fearlessly speaking out against YazÄ«d in his court, she refers directly to her exposed state:
Zainab: I am without veil amongst the masses, but the Holy Spirit holds a veil for me.
Because of her higher religious understanding, YazÄ«dâs attempt at earthly humiliation is useless. He can steal her veil but her dignity is untouchable.
Nematollahi Mahani discusses the fact a ban on the hijab during the Pahlavi period gave additional weight to the forced unveiling in the taÊ¿ziyeh, and that Zainab as a chaste and pious revolutionary model, speaking out against oppression, inspired women during the 1357 SH/ 1978â79 revolution.96 The women of the Qajar audience would not have shared the experience of having their veiling practices proscribed. However, in terms of the revolutionary model, given that the Constitutional Revolution (1323â29/ 1905â11) took place towards the end of the time period covered by this study, it would be reasonable to ask whether Zainab provided an inspiration for the women involved in those calls for reform. However, to address this question would require a separate study.97
6 Historical Development
Given the early taÊ¿ziyeh traditionâs close connection to processional rituals, the humiliation of the captives paraded through the market is likely to have been one of the earliest aspects of the experience of those at Karbala to be re-enacted. Despite not centring on the martyrdom of a prominent family member, the processional aspect of this episode is as old as the genre itself. Nevertheless, the renditions of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm among my sample are strikingly similar to each other, sharing much more in terms of verse than the episodes discussed above. This suggests that in this case the composers were redacting and embellishing copies of one particular original work, rather than amalgamating the early efforts of different authors to dramatize the same events (a phenomenon discussed in chapter 3).
In keeping with the trends observed throughout this study, while female characters have always featured heavily in this play their number increases through time. Hendeh is one of the added characters but the others are generally of humble origin: the virtuous woman and local girl who try to help the captives in the market, and the washer of the dead (included when the play ends with the martyrdom of Ruqaiyeh). However, the scenes involving these characters are very brief and do not constitute major changes to the play. The one significant development in content was the incorporation of the prologue in which Yazīd is treated by a European doctor.
6.1 Towards Satire: Introduction of the Foreign Doctor
YazÄ«dâs treatment by a European doctor appears to have become part of the play during NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«n ShÄhâs reign. The Zand and Pelly renditions of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm are the only ones amongst my sample not to feature this scene, although it may well have been played by the time Pelly assembled his collection (the early 1870s). In the three shorter plays of Pellyâs collection covering the events of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm, YazÄ«d awaiting word of the outcome of the battle is not treated and the events in Damascus begin with Shemrâs arrival. The Zand rendition suggests that the playâs original structure was ripe for the insertion of a physician character. In its initial scene YazÄ«d complains of anxiety, loss of appetite, insomnia and an accelerated pulse. He demands that wine be poured to relieve his vexation. Although there is no doctor, there is allusion to illness. Then, Berezinâs 1259/1843 spectator account tells of the play opening with YazÄ«d in his sickly state and being attended by not one, but a group of three doctors!98 However, there is no suggestion that they are foreign. Sheilâs 1266/1849 spectator account makes no mention of a European doctor, and since the European Ambassador had certainly caught her attention, had she seen one she would have been likely to comment. Serenaâs spectator account of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm from Tekiyeh-ye Dawlat in 1295/1878 does indeed open with YazÄ«d being treated by a doctor who is definitely foreign.99 Thus, by this point the gÅ«sheh was being played as we find it in the scripts among my sample.100
The source of inspiration for a European doctor character is not difficult to imagine. There were many European physicians accompanying the different missions in Iran during this period and indeed NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«n ShÄh himself had a French doctor, Dr Ernest Cloquet (who had also attended Muḥammad ShÄh before him).101 However, what is interesting is that this innovation may well have made its way into the taÊ¿ziyeh from the lithographs of the rawżeh-khÄnÄ«/maqtal genre. YazÄ«d attended by a European doctor features in Musayyeb- nÄmeh, a martyrology of anonymous authorship concerning the uprising of MukhtÄr-e SaqafÄ« and Musayyeb b. QaÊ¿qÄÊ¿-e KhazÄÊ¿Ä« to avenge Ḥusain and his followers. It was first printed in 1265/ 1848â49,102 before the first evidence of the European doctor featuring in the taÊ¿ziyeh. Even if it was not their invention, the taÊ¿ziyeh dramatists scripted this scene and it certainly appealed to them and their audience, attested by its prevalence amongst later renditions. It was a successful innovation. But what its purpose? Why make YazÄ«dâs doctor a European?
Scholars have commented on the comical nature of this gÅ«sheh,103 and indeed its scripting suggests the farcical. After giving YazÄ«d a physical examination, the doctor prescribes a nonsense remedy. In addition to seeds and flowers, the list of its ingredients commonly includes items such as chicken fat, sodium bicarbonate, and dozens of tortoise eggs, with some renditions including more colourful additions such as mouse or rabbit droppings,104 a kind of laxative,105 and even pig excrement.106 But who were the audience to laugh at? Simply YazÄ«d, and his self-indulgence being rewarded with this noxious potion? Of course, we have seen other examples of the enemies of the ahl-e bait being ridiculed, as exemplified by the pagan women of the Quraish in Ê¿ArÅ«sÄ« raftan-e Ḥażrat-e FÄá¹emeh (discussed in chapter 1). And indeed, some versions of the European doctor episode go further in their mockery than the nonsense remedy. In the Darbandsar rendition YazÄ«d describes having aching bones, being short of breath and unable to sleep on his side, having strange tastes in his mouth, a burning thirst, a cough and a sore head. The doctor examines him and upon looking inside his mouth reports seeing âkÅ«ftâ, which can simply mean a bruise or blow but is also the common name for syphilis. YazÄ«dâs aggressive dismissal of this idea reflects an understanding of this connotation:
Perhaps for fear of YazÄ«dâs ire, the doctor simply continues with the examination and upon concluding tells the vizier, Ê¿Amr-e Ê¿Äá¹£, that the diagnosis is pneumonia. The audience may well have enjoyed the suggestion of YazÄ«d having a venereal disease and this would be in keeping with his portrayal as hedonistic and debauched. Meanwhile, his burning thirst (a symptom commonly described across versions of this scene) can be seen as divine punishment for the thirst he inflicts upon those at Karbala. The idea of him being afflicted with an awful disease such as syphilis also suggests divine retribution. Indeed, in the historiography relating to Karbala, the idea of those who did harm to Ḥusain being punished with a physical ailment is common.108 However, to ridicule YazÄ«d in this way would not necessitate the physician being a foreigner. His identity as such is worthy of further consideration.
It has been suggested that the Qajar era composers who added this character were influenced by NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«n having a European doctor.109 If this is so, then what are we to make of the fact that the taÊ¿ziyeh composers created a mirror of their king and great patron in one of the principal antagonists? Were they laughing at the king and his practice, perhaps considered frivolous, of employing a European physician? Did this scene aim to allow the audience to giggle at the seemingly nonsensical practices of their Western visitors? While it is unlikely that the dramatists would openly deride their patrons, those involved in taÊ¿ziyeh performance would not have been without their opinions: as I have touched upon in my discussion of the ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«, there were periods during which the relationship with the foreign powers present in Iran became strained. Satire of the foreigner, and moreover the reliance of the elite upon him, need not have been openly or blatantly disrespectful. Max Harris, a scholar well acquainted with folk theatre and ritual, reminds us that:
Religious festivals are rarely, as official records may misleadingly suggest, monological displays of power. Rather, they are enacted dialogues, implicit negotiations between dominant and subordinate groups, between the hierarchical powers of the church (or state) and the unwritten but no less articulate power of the street.110
In Harrisâ own work concerning Christian festivals he provides fascinating insight into the complex relationships between ruling establishments and folk performers and the multi-levelled character of the expression that takes place during performance rituals. He discusses their great potential as a space for veiled critical discourse, in particular allowing those in subordinate positions a platform to covertly criticize those in power. I am not suggesting that the taÊ¿ziyeh performers represented a repressed social group but, as we saw in chapter 1, whilst their performing talents may have given them a certain status during the mourning season, they belonged to the ranks of the common people. Some expression of the opinions of those people will survive in their works; for reasons of piety they are more likely to be evident in episodes not concerning a prominent martyrdom.
It is known that the performance of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm was popular towards the end of NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«nâs reign. The staging of YazÄ«dâs court was an opportunity to display the monarchâs wealth; precious jewels and cloths were lent by the women of the royal harem for the costuming and set of performances of this episode at Tekiyeh-ye Dawlat.111 However, I venture that in the gÅ«sheh of the foreign doctor, under the guise of ridiculing YazÄ«d, the composers found a little room for subtle criticism of the dominant figures of the time, both the monarch and the European. Europeans and Christians are generally sympathetic characters in the taÊ¿ziyeh. Their acknowledgement of the special nature of the ahl-e bait and their kin frequently serves as a counterpoint to the ignorant cruelty of the Muslim antagonists. We have seen a number of examples of this during the course of this study (the Christian Lady and her maid, the European Monk, the Christian as âUnwilling Killerâ, and BÄzÄr-e ShÄmâs ĪlchÄ« FarangÄ«): however, there are exceptions.
The play Qatl-e MÄ«rzÄ TaqÄ«-KhÄn AmÄ«r KabÄ«r (The Killing of MÄ«rzÄ TaqÄ«-KhÄn âAmÄ«r KabÄ«râ) features one such exception. AmÄ«r KabÄ«r, renowned as a highly efficient and innovative statesman, was chief minister to NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«n ShÄh during the first four years of his reign. He implemented a wide and astute programme of reforms aimed at improving living conditions and the economy, and strengthening central government, which implied curtailing the influence of the British and the Russians. However, he also had enemies within the ruling establishment and a plot against him (including accusations of treachery) saw him out of favour with the king and killed, at NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«nâs order, in Kashan in 1268/1852. The play concerning his death, in itself an example of taÊ¿ziyeh as political criticism, features an English diplomat as a villainous figure.112
The foreign doctor is a potentially neutral character. There is no narrative detail that predetermines his portrayal as necessarily good or bad (unlike the majority of the foreigners mentioned above, he does not come into contact with the ahl-e bait or their wider family, try to help them, or convert). His attitude towards YazÄ«d and the events at Karbala seems to have been relatively open to interpretation, and the very manner in which this figure is first mentioned is somewhat ambiguous. This exchange follows YazÄ«dâs complaint to his vizier that his agitation for news from Karbala is accompanied with physical pain:
The balancing of durangī (duplicity) with farangī (European) under the cover of the convenience of the rhyme is potentially satirical, equating the European with the duplicitous and implying that malaise arising from treacherousness is something that one of those European doctors would know how to treat. Whilst this is only a small hint of satire, certain versions contain something more.
The doctor is usually portrayed as siding with Ḥusain and his house but this is not always clear. In his entering speech the doctor is often shown to be heavy-hearted and to tarry in approaching Yazīd: in some cases he is sorrowing for the Alids,114 but in others he says that he cannot explain the way that he is feeling.115 Then, two renditions among my sample have him make a curious statement in his last address to Yazīd. He insults the monarch but also seems to kowtow to his ambition to hold unrivalled leadership of the Muslim community:
Doctor: O Sultan of the mighty throne, this imamate certainly befits you.
God curses the group to whom you are the prophet.117
One of the versions in question is attributed to MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ (MS 661), the other is signed by less well-known hands but is from Kashan, thus probably influenced by MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄâs rendition.
The small details that I have quoted from the scripts could be records of subtle criticism, not only of Yazīd but of the European and the shah. However, above and beyond the script, the very scenario of the self-indulgent monarch and his somewhat silly foreign helper has much satirical potential in performance and, of course, there is much scope (and safety) in the unwritten medium of movement on stage. Indeed, the gūsheh of the European doctor at very least leaves much room for ambiguity.
7 Conclusion
Despite its royal patrons, the taÊ¿ziyeh is essentially a folk art form but this is not to say that its practitioners lacked the sophistication to make the kind of subtle satirical comment described above. Some of their tactics are rather predictable and repetitive, the frequent use of contrast in this episode to show the injustice endured by the captives being such as example. Nonetheless, close analysis of their work shows their deep understanding of their craft and their crowd. Changes of rhythm being essential to a captivating live performance, in this episode we have seen adept use of tempo and metre to delineate certain scenes and support characterisation. We have also seen the composersâ clever manipulation of the conventions established with their audience to convey a particular message, exemplified by Ê¿AlÄ«âs ghost intervening to save Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n.
The dramatists understood and exploited the concerns of their society. To provoke a sense of outrage their strategy was simple â invoke the concept of nÄmÅ«s by stressing the forced exposure of the women. In fact, the popular nature of the taÊ¿ziyeh as a genre appears to have freed the composers from the self-consciousness of a more refined art form. They represented what they wished without being confined by concerns over historical accuracy, or even continuity. In their interpretation of the Byzantine ambassadorâs story, itself testament to the power of folk tradition to conserve cultural heritage (in this case narrative material), they freely created a sympathetic caricature of their contemporary European visitors, whilst unabashedly developing for him a digression as a storyteller versed in the events of the Medina of Ḥusainâs childhood. That digression is telling of one of the genreâs major sources of influence.
Words spoken by Zainab at YazÄ«dâs court in BÄzÄr-e ShÄm. CP: MS 512 (MashhadÄ« Ḥusain TafreshÄ«; MÄ«rzÄ Muḥammad b. MÄ«rzÄ á¸¤asan TaÊ¿ziyeh-khÄn-e JÄsebÄ«, Kashan 1327/1909â10 and 1369/1949â50); and (with minor variations) the Zand and Darbandsar renditions; MS 405; MS 661 (MÄ«r-e Ê¿AzÄ; MÄ«rzÄ Ê¿AlÄ« ṬehrÄnÄ«; MurtaÅ¼Ä BÄbÄjÄn; and Shaikh Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n MahdaviyÄn, Qom, 1369/1949â50 & 1329 SH/1950â51); and MS 662 (MÄ«rzÄ GhÅ«lÄm-Ê¿AlÄ« DarvÄ«sh; Muḥammad ReÅ¼Ä HÅ«shmand; and NÅ«r Muḥammad Ê¿AbbÄs, Rasht, 1342/1923â24 & 1311 SH/1932â33).
Bérézine, Voyage, 256â60.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 169â76; BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 714â15; MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 341â43; MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2270â73; KhÄndamÄ«r, ḤabÄ«b al-siyÄr, 2, 60; KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 505â13.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 166â67; BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 713; MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 339â40; MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2267. These sources record this happening in Kufa and Ebn-e ZiyÄd being the one who gives the execution order. In BÄzÄr-e ShÄm the setting is Damascus, the order given by YazÄ«d. KÄshefÄ« gives both accounts, Rawżat, 479 and 512.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 167â68; MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 340; BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 713; MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2267â68.
Peacock cites this figure as being mentioned in two manuscripts, one held in Mashhad (ÄstÄn-e Quds 129), and one in Cambridge (Add 836). The former, dated to the 6th/12th century, originates from Erzincan (present day Turkey). The latter is an Arabic translation of BalÊ¿amÄ«âs work, dated 876/1471, the colophon indicating that it is a direct descendant of a manuscript dated 442/1050. Andrew C.S. Peacock, Mediaeval Islamic Historiography and Political Legitimacy: BalâamÄ«âs TÄrÄ«khnÄma (London: Routledge, 2007), 132, 139. For Peacockâs full discussion of Add. 836, including questions relating to its dating see pp. 66â75.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 176; BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 714â15; MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2270â71; KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 506.
BalÊ¿amÄ«, TÄrÄ«kh-nÄmeh, 4, 714â15; MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 341â43; MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2270.
ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 174â76. MÄ«rkhÄnd gives this same quote but from Zainab. MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2273.
KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 505.
Peacock, BalâamÄ«âs TÄrÄ«khnÄma, 138.
Ibid., 139.
KhÄndamÄ«r, ḤabÄ«b al-siyÄr, 2, 60.
This included a ritual in which an effigy of Ê¿Umar was burned. For collated historical accounts of the symbolic performance of Ê¿Umarâs killing in the late 1600s see Floor, Theater, 204â205.
Zand rendition; CP: MS 43; and MS 908.
Darbandsar rendition; CP: MS 43; MS 512; MS 661; and MS 908.
Among my sample, only the Zand and Pelly renditions do not feature this scene.
In CP: 908 a slave who had been dispatched with YazÄ«dâs letter meets Shemr and returns to bring the news.
Darbandsar rendition; CP: MS 512; and MS 661.
The Zand rendition includes only the close family members.
The Pelly rendition of events and CP: MS 662 omit this dialogue.
CP: MS 43; MS 662; and MS 908. In MS 662 her intervention comes after the arrival of the European Ambassador, described below.
CP: MS 405.
CP: MS 43.
CP: MS 43; MS 908.
Darbandsar rendition; CP: MS 512; and MS 661. This characterâs name in Arabic is âHendâ but in Persian she is âHendehâ.
CP: MS 662 is unique amongst my sample in that during his entrance the European Ambassador converses with a member of his entourage (referred to as his vizier) who explains what has happened at Karbala, including the divinely ordained nature of Ḥusainâs mission.
See my discussion in chapter 2.
This scene is in all renditions amongst my sample except CP: MS 662. In MS 43 it is played after the identifying of the heads, and in MS 908 after YazÄ«d dishonouring Ḥusainâs head (described below).
Kuls̱ūm in the Pelly rendition.
The Zand rendition includes elements of this scene that fell away through time, including YazÄ«dâs daughter slapping SakÄ«neh and rallying the children of Damascus to throw stones at her, and it being Shemr to whom YazÄ«d promises SakÄ«neh as a slave. This scene was likely inspired by certain historical sources that record a Damascene man having sought ownership of FÄá¹emeh-ye á¹¢ughrÄ. ṬabarÄ«, History, XIX, 171; MufÄ«d, IrshÄd, 342â43.
Zand and Pelly renditions.
Before YazÄ«d surveying the heads a faqareh featuring á¹¢udaif, Akbarâs slave blinded by grief, can be played. He mourns, chastises YazÄ«d and demands an end to the captivesâ mistreatment. CP: MS 662 and MS 43.
Such was the effect of this scene as I witnessed it in performance. For BÄzÄr-e ShÄm in performance see Deacon, âTaÊ¿ziyeh-khani in Iranian Communities,â 175â76.
This singing features in CP: MS 662 and Pellyâs âConversion and Murder of the Ambassador from Europeâ. The initial verses concern the story of The Companions of the Cave. For commentary see Pelly, Miracle Play, 2, 233.
Her script mentions this and Berezin reports the Zainab-khÄn in Tehran performing the action. Bérézine, Voyage, 259.
Darbandsar rendition and CP: MS 661. In CP: MS 405, the women of the family act as a chorus in Zainabâs appeal.
CP: MS 43; and MS 908.
The ambassadorâs intervention and Ê¿AlÄ«âs apparition feature in all renditions among my sample, except CP: MS 405 that omits the apparition.
In the Zand rendition Shemr reports Muḥammad appearing from one direction (the qeblah) and ʿAlī from another. In the Darbandsar rendition he simply cites the apparition of a masked figure.
In Pellyâs collection, the episode âArrival of Husainâs Family at Damascusâ, which has corresponded closely with the content of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm until this point, ends after the apparition of Ê¿AlÄ«. His subsequent episode âConversion and Murder of the Ambassador from Europeâ covers the remainder of BÄzÄr-e ShÄmâs narrative.
Darbandsar rendition, CP: MS 512; MS 661; and the Pelly Collectionâs âThe Death of Rukayyahâ.
In CP: MS 512 he also orders her burial; in MS 661 he sends flowers for her body.
The Pelly rendition of Ruqaiyehâs death is more elaborate. It omits the washerwoman but includes YazÄ«dâs daughter who first taunts the prisoners but then takes pity on Ruqaiyeh, bringing her Ḥusainâs head. YazÄ«dâs daughter is likely to have featured in other renditions of this scene. In CP: MS 661 she makes a last interjection, mourning Ruqaiyehâs death.
Peacock, BalâamÄ«âs TÄrÄ«khnÄma, 139. For the details and dating of these manuscripts see footnote 11 of this chapter.
Niebuhr, Reisebeschreibung, 2, 199â201; Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 17â82.
KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 508â09.
Niebuhr, Reisebeschreibung, 2, 200â01.
Charles Stuart, Journal of a Residence in Northern Persia and the Adjacent Provinces of Turkey in 1835â36 (London: Richard Bentley, 1854), 295â96.
Calmard, âCeremonies and Diplomacy,â 217.
KÄshefÄ« SabzevÄrÄ«, Rawżat, 508.
Francklin, Observations, 99.
Sheil, Glimpses, 126.
Serena, Hommes et choses, 193.
Bérézine, Voyage, 261.
If we are to read the kaf at the beginning of the second word in the third line as a gaf.
Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 43.
CP: MS 661. In MS 512 and the Darbandsar rendition he also says âBonjour Monsieurâ.
CP: MS 43; MS 662; MS 908; and (with some variation) MS 405; MS 512; MS 661; and the Darbandsar rendition.
CP: MS 43. In the manuscript
The word dÅ«rbÄ«n denotes a camera in modern Persian but, while the camera did arrive in Iran during NÄá¹£er al-DÄ«nâs ShÄhâs reign it is probable that the composers intended the older meaning â telescope. However, we cannot rule out their awareness of the camera having arrived from Europe. Many photographs were taken of performances at Tekiyeh-ye Dawlat, and the performers themselves posed for the photographers. See, for example, âPerformers of Taâziyahâ Womenâs Worlds in Qajar Iran, available online at: http://www.qajarwomen.org/en/items/15156A99.html (accessed June 17th, 2024).
He alludes to the triumph in battle of the early Muslim community over the Jews of the oasis of Khaibar.
The couplets in which these gifts are proffered, feature not only in CP: MS 43 but (with minor variations) in MS 512; MS 662; MS 908; and the Darbandsar rendition.
Firearms feature in the Zand rendition; CP: MS 662; MS 405; and MS 908.
Bérézine, Voyage, 257.
Sheil, Glimpses, 126.
Ouseley, Travels, 172.
Calmard, âCeremonies and Diplomacy,â 215â23.
Ibid., 220â22.
Entry 17 is an untitled 19-couplet fragment concerning a letter being sent to Ebn-e ZiyÄd in Kufa. Entries number 14 and 15 are both versions of RÄh gum kardan-e EmÄm Ḥusain (Imam Ḥusain Loses his Way) and entries 32 and 34 are both versions of Majles-e dairÄnÄ«-ye farangÄ« (The European Monk).
Chodzko, TheÌatre persan, xxiii.
Calmard, âCeremonies and Diplomacy,â 221.
Gobineau, Les religions, 442â44.
CP: MS 661. A version of this entrance speech, with much overlap in verse, features in all of the renditions of the play among my sample. The above are short extracts, it is typically around 20 couplets long.
Mention of NowrÅ«z, telling of the Persianate environment within which the dramatists worked, is not unique to the ambassador. In CP: MS 662 SakÄ«neh asks Zainab the cause of the festivities as they are led through the market, she answers that the people of ShÄm are celebrating Ḥusainâs killing as if it were NowrÅ«z.
CP: MS 661. The word
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The Zand and Darbandsar renditions; CP: MS 43; MS 512; MS 662; and MS 908.
CP: MS 661.
Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ«, MabÄnÄ«-ye shabÄ«h-khÄnÄ«, 46â52; NÄá¹£erbakht, AdabiyÄt-e Ä«rÄnÄ«, 231â36.
Ulrich Marzolph, âA Treasury of Formulaic Narrative: The Persian Popular Romance Hosein-e Kord,â Oral Tradition 14, no. 2 (1999): 287â88.
For the play with an opening note from the editors see Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 117â46.
The Pelly translation is also unique amongst my sample of renditions of BÄzÄr-e ShÄm in showing, in another way, a direct link to KÄshefÄ«âs version of events. KÄshefÄ« gives the ambassadorâs name as Ê¿Abd al-Shams and that he was renamed Ê¿Abd al-VahhÄb by Muḥammad. On a single occasion Pelly labels the ambassadorâs interjection as âÊ¿Abd al-Shams, the Emperorâs envoyâ, noting that there is nothing in the text to further identify this figure. Pelly, Miracle Play, 2, 224.
CP: MS 512. The same couplets with minor variations appear in all of the versions of this scene amongst my sample.
For an edition of the Chodzko rendition of the play see EqbaÌl and MaḥjÅ«b, Jung-e shahaÌdat, 67â97.
The quote that follows is from the Darbandsar rendition. á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 2, 114. However, the same exchange in chahÄr-pÄreh, with some variation, features in CP: MS 43; MS 512; MS 661; MS 662; and MS 908.
MÄ«rzÄ á¸¤abÄ«b-AllÄh ShÄ«rÄzÄ«, âQÄʾÄnÄ«â, DÄ«vÄn-e ḤakÄ«m-e QÄʾÄnÄ«-ye ShÄ«rÄzÄ«, ed. MuhÌ£ammad JaÊ¿far MaḥjÅ«b (Tehran: AmÄ«r KabÄ«r, [1858â59] 1336 SH), 948. Punctuation, my own. For the full poem see pp. 948â949.
The term awliyÄʾ can denote the ShiÊ¿i Imams, who are considered friends of God. In the taʾziyeh all of Ḥusainâs supporters are termed awliyÄʾ.
Shahidi, TaÊ¿ziyeh-khÄnÄ«: dowreh-ye QÄjÄr, 589â91. Also see Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 15.
Daftar 13, 31â32.
For more on QÄʾÄnÄ« see Alyssa Gabbay, âQÄʾÄnÄ«,â Encyclopædia Iranica, online version (2016). Available at: https://iranicaonline.org/articles/qaani-poet (accessed June 19th, 2024).
CP: MS 512; MS 661; and the Darbandsar rendition.
Exposure as a form of degradation applies largely to the women, but not exclusively so. In CP: MS 43 when being paraded through the market Zain al-Ê¿ÄbedÄ«n complains of how he is bound, and his body naked âlike a black slaveâ.
For the Litten Collection rendition of this play see EsmÄÊ¿Ä«lÄ«, Teshneh, 861â72. For discussion of a Cerulli Collection version of it see Iraj Anvar, âPeripheral Taâziyeh: The Transformation of Taâziyeh from Muharram Mourning Ritual to Secular and Comical Theatre,â in Chelkowski ed. Eternal Performance, 110â121.
á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 2, 125; Nematollahi Mahani, Holy Drama, 74, 93.
Nematollahi Mahani, Holy Drama, 73â75.
During the decades prior to the Constitutional Revolution Iranian thinkers had begun to invoke the idea of the homeland as a woman, and the concept of nÄmÅ«s in their insistence on the peopleâs duty to protect her (particularly against the incursion of foreign powers). This may have affected the reception to plays such as GhÄrat-e khaimeh-hÄ and BÄzÄr-e ShÄm. However, the extent to which this conceptual campaign reached a mass audience is unclear. For further discussion see Afsaneh Najmabadi, âThe Erotic Vatan [Homeland] as Beloved and Mother: To Love, To Possess, and To Protect,â Comparative Studies in Society and History 39, no. 3 (1997).
Bérézine, Voyage, 256â57.
Serena, Hommes et choses, 190â91.
YazÄ«d being treated by this doctor can also be played as a separate sub-episode entitled BÄ«mÄr shudan-e YazÄ«d (YazÄ«d Becomes Ill). Shahidi, TaÊ¿ziyeh-khÄnÄ«: dowreh-ye QÄjÄr, 273â74.
Amanat, Pivot of the Universe, 89, 205.
Marzolph, âPersian Popular Literature in the Qajar Period,â 225.
Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 15; Shahidi, TaÊ¿ziyeh-khÄnÄ«: dowreh-ye QÄjÄr, 274.
CP: MS 43 and MS 662.
CP: MS 662 and MS 908.
CP: MS 43.
á¹¢Äleḥī RÄd, MajÄles, 2, 112.
For example, MÄ«rkhÄnd and KhÄndamÄ«r both tell of individuals from amongst the group who stole the clothes from Ḥusainâs body becoming afflicted with leprosy. MÄ«rkhÄnd, Rawżat al-á¹£afÄ, 3, 2262; KhÄndamÄ«r, ḤabÄ«b al-siyÄr, 2, 57.
Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and DaryÄÄ«, Daftar 11, 15.
Max Harris, Carnival and Other Christian Festivals: Folk Theology and Folk Performance (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2003), 77â78.
Serena, Hommes et choses, 190.
For the play with discussion by the editors see DÄvÅ«d Fatḥ-Ê¿AlÄ« BaigÄ« and MehdÄ« DaryÄÄ«, âSharḥī bar majles-e shabÄ«h-he Qatl-e MÄ«rzÄ TaqÄ«-KhÄn AmÄ«r KabÄ«r,â in Daftar-e pazhuhesh 2 (Tehran: EnteshÄrÄt-e NamÄyesh, 1394 SH).
CP: MS 661
CP: MS 43 and MS 908.
CP: MS 661 and the Darbandsar rendition.
CP: MS 661. The same couplets feature in MS 512 but with a minor variation.
I translate