Introduction
Taʿziyeh-khānī, also known as shabīh-khānī, is a devotional theater form which centers around the commemoration of the martyrdoms of Husain b. ʿAlī b. Abī Tālib (b. ca. 4/626) and his supporters at Karbala in Muharram of the year 61/680.Footnote 1 Such performances serve for Shiʿites both to mourn collectively for their martyrs and to preserve their memory. The taʿziyeh repertoire includes a wide range of largely anonymous plays, the central corpus of which treat the martyrdoms of Husain’s entourage in episodic form, with each play foregrounding the fate of an individual hero. These episodes, which I will call the Karbala cycle, are traditionally performed daily during the first ten to twelve days of Muharram and typically follow the chronology of the events surrounding the battle of Karbala. The cycle reaches its climax on ʿĀshūrāʾ, the tenth day of Muharram and date of Husain's death, with the performance of Shahādat-e Imām Husain (The Martyrdom of Imam Husain). The cycle then continues, treating the aftermath of the battle with the women, children and Husain’s one surviving adult son Zain al-ʿAbidīn being taken to Damascus as captives. Despite being based on events recorded in historical and religious literature, taʿziyeh’s largely anonymous dramatists have steadily embellished the memory of Karbala through time, elaborating upon the tribulations of the martyrs, innovating new narrative content and giving each hero a treatment unique to their taʿziyeh context. This is popular religious culture, a vernacular art form, its emergence and endurance being largely due to enthusiasm at a grassroots level to preserve the memory of Karbala’s martyr heroes by replaying the events. However, the taʿziyeh enjoyed a long period of elite patronage under the Qajar dynasty, peaking during the reign of Nāsir al-Dīn Shāh Qājār (r. 1264–1313/1848–96), when large, lavish performances during the month of Muharram were attended collectively by all echelons of society, constituting the largest social gatherings of the year.Footnote 2
Indeed, the taʿziyeh repertoire underwent its maximum development during the thirteenth/nineteenth century and when we examine different versions of the plays of the Karbala cycle with dates spanning this period, much fluctuation in content is evident. New characters and scenes pop up in the central episodes; some of these appear to be creative “dead ends” and are not seen in later versions of the script whilst other obviously successful innovations were permanently incorporated and within a few decades are present in versions of the play from across Iran. This was no trivial matter, as if a scene became a stable component of a central episode it would be performed for generations, becoming part of the Karbala narrative as remembered at a popular level. These being performative texts, the success of a new scene would depend on it being accepted by both the performers and audience. The repertoire itself, as we find it by the early fourteenth/twentieth century, is the result of the symbiosis of the taʿziyeh players and their audience, generations of Iranian Shiʿites of all social backgrounds, a treasure trove of popular cultural heritage.
This paper will focus on the matter of innovation within the plays of the Karbala cycle, in particular the addition of two new scenes involving non-religious characters to the climactic play, The Martyrdom of Imam Husain, during the thirteenth/nineteenth century. The term “non-religious” here refers to the fact that these characters do not feature in the Shiʿi traditions or historical literature pertaining to Karbala. They are the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais of India, the latter entering as part of a trio with his vizier and a lion. All of these characters meet Imam Husain shortly before his martyrdom. They are not present in the earliest extant versions of the play dating from the 1790s to the 1830s yet this study will show that by around 1317/1900 they are present in taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom from across Iran. What’s more, they are the only characters who are neither part of Husain’s entourage nor members of the enemy army to consistently feature in the climactic play, an attestation of their importance. Nonetheless, despite the addition of these characters having been recognized as a thirteenth/nineteenth century phenomenon,Footnote 3 until now the questions of when, and moreover why, they were introduced to the play have not been subject to scholarly attention. These are open questions.
By cross-referencing the contents of historical taʿziyeh scripts with the evidence of contemporary spectator accounts I will give a date window for the introduction of these characters. Further to this, by examination of the structure of the play I answer from a dramaturgical point of view the question of why the scenes involving these characters were added. I argue that Husain’s meetings with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais were introduced to complete a trilogy of trials faced by the Imam at Karbala, serving to underscore his infallibility. Finally, I trace these characters and their accompanying anecdotes in popular religious literature, both oral and lithographed, prior to their appearance in the taʿziyeh.
Sources
Fifteen taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom have been examined in the course of this study, with scripts dating from 1204/1790 to 1372/1952 (the later scripts being included in order to affirm whether the Qajar period innovations indeed persisted).Footnote 4 Ten of these are manuscripts belonging to the Vatican Library’s Cerulli Persian collection.Footnote 5 These include seven versions of the episode The Martyrdom of Imam Husain Footnote 6 and three versions of Haftād u du tan (Seventy-Two People), an early variety of taʿziyeh play which portrays all of the most prominent Karbala martyrdoms consecutively, synopsizing the entirety of the tragedy.Footnote 7
In terms of form, the plays of the Cerulli collection fall into two categories: most are in a form known as tak nuskheh, where the play exists as a collection of small booklets (acting sides), each containing the lines of an individual character.Footnote 8 The acting sides of the Cerulli collection are 5–12cm wide and no more than 18cm long, designed to be held in one hand by a taʿziyeh-khān (player) during a performance. Each collection of sides is accompanied by a fihrist (director’s key). This lists the order in which the characters speak and the first word of each interjection. The other variety of script is a jung, with the lines of all characters being written into a single booklet in the order in which they should be delivered. These conform to the dimensions of the aforementioned acting sides.Footnote 9 In all cases these are humble materials, unbound booklets sewn together with thread, a testament to the vernacular character of the art form.Footnote 10
Due to their nature, these manuscripts (and the additional scripts from edited volumes described below, compiled using similar materials) are treated here as records of the plays as they were performed, as opposed to the scripts being a literary product.Footnote 11 In the case of the manuscripts, the majority of the acting sides studied show wear and tear, suggesting that not only were they designed for use by performers but that they have been used by performers. In addition to wear, many booklets feature small edits by a hand other than the original. In some cases the lines of two minor characters (with similar physical profiles) feature in a single acting side, suggesting that one performer played both roles. Those in jung form also show wear, often having been folded to go into a pocket.
To broaden the sample range, five further renditions of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain have been consulted. The earliest of these is a version of the play belonging to Dāvūd Fath-ʿAlī Baigī and Mehdī Daryāī’s edited volume of Zand period taʿziyeh scripts, dated 1204/1790.Footnote 12 The scripts of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain from the Litten collection dating to around the 1830sFootnote 13 and the same play from the Chodzko manuscript,Footnote 14 last copied no later than 1256/1840, have also been consulted.Footnote 15The Martyrdom of Imam Husain in Hasan Sālihī Rād’s collection from Darbandsar,Footnote 16 a firm dating for which cannot be given but estimated to be from the second half of the nineteenth century,Footnote 17 and the English (prose) translations of Sir Lewis Pelly’s collection, dated no later than 1290/1873,Footnote 18 have also been studied.
Historical Trajectory of the Tradition (to 1900)
The discussion will benefit by placing the innovations in question within the arc of the development of the taʿziyeh genre. Large public performances commemorating the martyrs of Karbala during the month of Muharram became widespread in Iran under the reign of the Safavid dynasty (r. 907–1135/1501–1722). Mourning assemblies staged in squares, at crossroads and on street corners are well documented during this period, where mullahs gave rousing recitals from Husain Vāʿiz Kāshifī’s, Rawzat al-shuhadāʾ and other books belonging to the maqtal genre.Footnote 19 This practice later became known as rawzeh-khānī. At the same time processional rituals of lament were also flourishing. The accounts of numerous travelers who visited Safavid Iran tell of spectacular pageantry during the first ten days of Muharram. The ambulatory rituals combined elements such as ornately adorned biers carrying symbolic coffins, riderless caparisoned horses bearing symbols of the Shiʿa holy family, and ranks of men bearing banners, standards and real or symbolic arms. Displays of self-mortification and semi-naked young men with painted bodies using stones or other simple materials as percussive instruments whilst contorting in simulation of the thirst of the Karbala martyrs were also prominent features of these parades.Footnote 20
Locating the emergence of the taʿziyeh tradition, scripted performances recalling the tribulations of the martyrs of Karbala through theatrical enactments, amongst such a diversity of performative rituals of lament is complicated. Until recently, the prevailing scholarly position had been that the taʿziyeh tradition emerged around the mid-eighteenth century from a fusion of the live performance elements of the parades, namely the human tableaux portraying scenes from Karbala staged atop wagons, with the narratives recounted in the rawzeh-khānī recitals.Footnote 21 Consequently it has been argued that the disintegration of the Safavid project and end of the reign of Nādir Shāh Afshār (r. 1148–60/1736–47), resulting in weakened centralized state control, created the conditions for large static theatrical performances as the masses experienced more freedom to gather in public spaces.Footnote 22 Whilst these theories are likely to have elements of truth, such as the growing role of live performers in the parades contributing to endeavors to further depict the Karbala tragedy or a hiatus in central control facilitating the expansion and increased frequency of performances, recent evidence shows the mid-eighteenth century not to be the period of taʿziyeh’s emergence.
New light has been cast on the early development of the genre by the recent publication of a single script—Ghārat-e khaimeh-ha (The Plunder of the Camp)—treating the immediate aftermath of Husain’s martyrdom at Karbala, dated 1136/1723–24.Footnote 23 Far from being an anomaly, a handful of scripts dating to the period of the Zand dynasty’s rule (1164–1209/1751–94), also not long discovered, holds evidence strongly suggesting the existence of the taʿziyeh tradition under the Safavids.Footnote 24 Dāvūd Fath-ʿAlī Baigī observes that far from showing a repertoire in the early stages of its development, the content of the Zand period plays shows that the emergence of the genre was long past. In fact, it had already evolved considerably by this point. Not only had the anonymous dramatists moved past solely addressing the Karbala tragedy to treating a wider subject matter, but at least one of the Zand period plays (dated 1197/1782–83) even contains comic material.Footnote 25 Bearing in mind that the repertoire had undergone considerable sophistication by this date, the emergence of the genre must have taken place at least several decades earlier, pushing it back into the Safavid period.
The existence of the taʿziyeh tradition during the Safavid period poses a problem. Why, when we have numerous accounts from witnesses of the rawzeh-khānī recitals and processions, do we not find descriptions of taʿziyeh performances?Footnote 26 As I have argued elsewhere, this provokes the necessity to consider an alternative theory of how the tradition emerged, looking past the idea of a fusion of the narratives of the rawzeh-khānī recitals with the displays of the performers in the processions and considering the influence of staged re-enactments of the battle of Karbala.Footnote 27 Indeed, pitched battles staged by men of the lower classes during the Muharram commemorations are frequently recorded during the Safavid period and from as early as the mid-seventeenth century there is evidence that these involved the use of text, role play and diverse manners of portraying the suffering and death of Husain, remembering by re-enactment.Footnote 28
The earliest spectator account of an enactment recognized as a taʿziyeh performance is found in the travelogue of German cartographer and explorer Carsten Niebuhr, who spent Muharram of 1179/1765 on Kharg Island.Footnote 29 The performance Niebuhr witnessed was loosely in the format of Haftād u du tan. Characters were recognizable by their motifs, their individual stories demonstrated through vignettes, with much battlefield action. Niebuhr’s account shows that in 1179/1765, far from the lavish nature of the Muharram processions of the Safavid period, the taʿziyeh was a rudimentary affair enacted by the local community and belonging to the devotional culture of the masses.Footnote 30 The testimony of William Francklin, who spent Muharram of 1202/1787 in Shiraz, describes the dramas being played on the city’s streets, this time in episodic form, again indicating amateur performers.Footnote 31 This was to change during the Qajar period when taʿziyeh, still popular with the masses, found favor amongst the elite.
Indeed the innovations within the taʿziyeh repertoire subject to this study took place during the mid-nineteenth century and can be largely attributed to the changes in the performance landscape that took place during this period. The newfound popularity of the art form with the upper echelons of society saw a boom in patronage of architecture with takiyehs or husainiyehs, designed to house the performances, built in cities across Iran. The construction of Takiyeh Dawlat in Tehran, an elaborate royal theater for taʿziyeh performances, is the most famous example of this trend. Constructed in 1284–85/1868–69 at the order of Nāsir al-Dīn Shāh Qājār, it was an enormous ceremonial space with a capacity of several thousand.Footnote 32 Despite the importance of the royal theater, there were numerous other significant venues across Iran.Footnote 33 An important consequence of the architectural boom was the creation of a professional circuit for taʿziyeh performers. A bustling circuit is already evident under Muhammad Shāh Qājār (r. 1250–64/1834–48). Il’ya Nikolaevich Berezin, a Russian orientalist who spent Muharram of 1259/1843 in Tehran, records as many as fifty-eight takiyehs (some temporary structures) across the capital and performers moving between them.Footnote 34 There are many reports of talented actors or directors from across Iran traveling to work at Takiyeh Dawlat and the large takiyehs of cities such as Isfahan and Kashan.Footnote 35 It is logical to conclude that these venues acted as hubs for the dissemination of influences within the art form. During the course of this study, analysis of the poetry of versions of the script of Shahādat-e Imām Husain from diverse geographical locations suggests that composers drew directly from each other’s work. This, together with the fact that the structure and content of the climactic play settled, reaching a relatively standardized form across Iran by c. 1317/1900, suggests that exchange between artists of the taʿziyeh genre touring the lively thirteenth/nineteenth century Muharram circuit was influential in the crystallization of the content of the central taʿziyeh episodes.Footnote 36 The addition of the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais to the climactic play is testimony to this process as after their first appearance we see them included in versions of the play from across Iran within a few decades.Footnote 37
Synopsis of the Play
Shahādat-e Imām Husain as we find it by around 1900 has three distinct sections. In the first section, the status quo is established. A world heavy with bereavement is portrayed, where justice and natural order have been suspended. There are children dying of thirst, a parched mother dry of breast milk and women doing men’s jobs as their husbands, sons and brothers have been killed. The play opens with Husain dreaming of seeing his parents in paradise, awaiting his imminent arrival. ʿUmar b. Saʿd, commander of the enemy troops, and Shimr (who has volunteered as Husain’s killer) arrive at the camp and order Husain’s sister Zainab to wake him, so that his last battle may commence. Shimr taunts Zainab about her future as his captive. There follow distraught goodbyes as Husain addresses the womenfolk and expresses his last wishes. Importantly, in his consolation of the women, Husain stresses that he accepts that to die at Karbala is his destiny, he must do this in order to fulfill his covenant with God and become an intercessor for the sins of the Shiʿites on the day of judgement. This section also establishes that the enemy is not open to negotiation. The thirst of Husain’s daughter Sakīneh and the desperation of his wife Shahrbānū for their dying baby, ʿAlī Asghar, drive the Imam to confront the enemy and beg for mercy. This leads to the climactic incident of the first section, as Husain takes the infant Asghar onto the battlefield and holds him up, imploring the enemy to grant water. Instead, an arrow is shot forth, piercing the infant’s throat.
The second section of the play is quite different. Alone in the desert and facing death, Husain has a series of encounters with strangers, all of whom offer help which he refuses. The Dervish of Kabul, whilst on pilgrimage to Najaf, passing close to Karbala, has heard a child’s cries of thirst so has filled his kashkūl (beggar’s bowl) with water and has come to alleviate the suffering, yet Husain tells him to pour the water onto the ground. Next, Zaʿfar, king of the jinn, appears with a powerful jinn army and offers to destroy the enemy but Husain says he cannot accept supernatural help. Then he draws his sword and the final battle ensues but suddenly the action shifts to India where Sultan Qais and his vizier, hunting in the wilderness, have been assailed by a lion. They call to Husain for help and he appears, bloodied from battle but nonetheless in time to save them. Qais offers the Imam refuge in India but he declines, instead telling the sultan to go home and establish a mourning ritual for him.
During the third and final section of the play, members of the ahl-e bait (family of the Prophet) once more come to the fore and there are no more interventions from benevolent strangers. Despite Zainab’s remonstrations, Husain’s nephew ʿAbdullah rushes onto the battlefield to help him. The young boy bravely faces the enemy but is killed by the arch-antagonist Shimr. The climax is inevitable yet Husain is composed. He is granted respite to make a final prayer and his mother Fatimeh-ye Zahrā appears from beyond the grave and accompanies him at the moment of his execution.Footnote 38 Husain is beheaded by Shimr who then calls for the drums to be sounded and his reward issued. The play comes to an abrupt end.
Dating the Introduction of the New Characters
Evidence of Qais in the Safavid period?
Conducting an iconographical search to trace the introduction of the stories of Husain’s encounters with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais to the taʿziyeh repertoire is beyond the scope of this study. Nonetheless, brief comment must be made on the claim of ʿAlī Bulūkbāshī, who argues that, based on mural evidence, Husain’s encounter with Qais existed as a taʿziyeh sub-episode during the late Safavid period.Footnote 39 This would have been extremely interesting but unfortunately the evidence is flawed.
Bulūkbāshī’s contention rests on the fact that Qais, his vizier and the lion are shown in the mural depicting taʿziyeh scenes which decorates the interior of the shrine of Imāmzādeh Zaid in Isfahan. He gives the year 1097/1685–86 as the likely date that these murals were painted, citing a translation of a 1937 article by Yedda Godard as his source; he considers this to indicate that these characters featured in the taʿziyeh repertoire during the late eleventh/seventeenth century. However, Godard’s dating of the murals had already been convincingly refuted by Samuel Peterson, who instead attributed them to the Qajar period.Footnote 40 Godard had based her attribution of the murals to the Safavid period on the inscription of the date 1097 within the shrine (yet not within the mural itself). She understands the date to refer to the restoration of the shrine and assumes that the murals were painted as part of this process.Footnote 41 Peterson gives a detailed analysis of the development of the iconography of Karbala wall painting and on this basis locates the murals of the Imāmzādeh Zaid shrine firmly within the Qajar period.Footnote 42 Crucially, he identifies the date 1323 (1905–6) within the mural itself. Based on an analysis of the materials and technique, he identifies a certain section of the mural to be older than the rest but places it no earlier than the mid-nineteenth century.Footnote 43 Further to this, Chelkowski has identified the costumes worn by the foreign characters in the mural as belonging not to the seventeenth but to “the late nineteenth or early twentieth century.”Footnote 44 All of this said, Godard’s dating of the mural to the shrine’s restoration in 1097/1685–86 was clearly flawed. Thus, the appearance of Qais within this mural does not constitute proof of him featuring in the taʿziyeh repertoire since the Safavid period, let alone before the thirteenth/nineteenth century.
Evidence from the scripts
From the study of the aforementioned fifteen taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom significant results emerge regarding the timing and process of the scenes involving the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais entering the taʿziyeh repertoire and being incorporated into the climactic play. It should first be clarified that taʿziyeh plays fall into three categories: vāqiʿeh-ha (episodes) treating the Karbala tragedy, pīsh-e vāqiʿeh-ha (prologues) and gūsheh-ha (sub-episodes), plays treating other religious and even secular stories including satirical and comic material.Footnote 45 Sub-episodes treating profane characters appear to have been initially performed as preludes to the main taʿziyeh episodes but then gradually began to be embedded within them.Footnote 46 Scholars had believed that this process took place under the reign of Nāsir al-Dīn Shāh Qajar; however, the discovery of the Zand period scripts now suggests that this had begun to take place somewhat earlier.Footnote 47
With regard to Husain’s encounters with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais, neither of these stories are present in the Zand period version of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain (dated 1204/1790) or in the Litten and Chodzko versions (1830s) and they do not appear as sub-episodes or prologues elsewhere in these collections. However, the Dervish of Kabul does feature in Pelly’s 1290/1873 version of the climactic play, with his scene in the same position that it comes to regularly occupy.Footnote 48 His encounter with Husain also features in this position in six of the seven Cerulli collection versions of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain (dated c. 1900 to 1950s),Footnote 49 in the Darbandsar version and in two of the three versions of Haftād u du tan.Footnote 50 Therefore, the Dervish of Kabul is present in ten of the twelve post-1830s taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom subject to this study, from diverse geographical origins.
The story of Husain rescuing Sultan Qais and his vizier from the lion features in Pelly’s 1870s collection as a separate sub-episode rather than within the play devoted to Husain’s martyrdom. However, this story does feature in its regular position (as detailed in my synopsis) in all seven of the Cerulli collection versions of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain (dated c. 1900 to 1950s), in the Darbandsar version of the climactic play and in two of the three versions of Haftād u du tan.Footnote 51 Qais and his vizier thus feature in eleven of the twelve post-1830s taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom subject to this study, also from diverse geographical locations.
These results strongly indicate that the stories of Husain’s encounters with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais and his vizier entered the taʿziyeh repertoire between 1256/1840 and 1290/1873. An additional interesting result is that the Dervish of Kabul, Sultan Qais and his vizier are the only human characters, external to Husain’s entourage and the enemy troops, to be consistently included in the play from the last decades of the nineteenth century onwards.
Evidence from spectator accounts
The date window for the entrance of these stories into the taʿziyeh repertoire can be narrowed by cross-referencing the evidence of the scripts with historical spectator accounts. Such accounts from the memoires of travelers can be particularly useful in that they tended to describe the performances in detail. Indeed, in a spectator account from 1259/1843 we find the earliest definitive evidence of the story of Sultan Qais being included in The Martyrdom of Imam Husain.Footnote 52 The aforementioned Russian orientalist Berezin spent Muharram of that year in Tehran and attended the takiyeh of Hājjī Mīrzā Āqāsī, a takiyeh which he describes as hosting the best taʿziyehs in town, featuring the most accomplished players from across Iran.Footnote 53 Berezin gives a highly detailed synopsis of the ʿĀshūrāʾ rendition of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain. It follows the familiar structure, familial farewells, Husain’s rejection of Zaʿfar’s offer of help from the army of jinn, then a scene involving a character, misnamed but unmistakably Qais. Berezin describes the stage emptying after Husain’s final battle commences. Then a scene is played where a character whom he describes as the “Iltchi frengi” (European ambassador), together with a man from his retinue, are attacked by a lion. They call for Husain, who arrives to save them.Footnote 54 Berezin taking Qais for the “Iltchi frengi” is understandable. This character, like Qais a benevolent outsider, features in Bāzār-e Shām, the taʿziyeh episode treating the fates of the Karbala survivors when taken to Damascus. Perhaps due to verisimilitude being of little importance in the genre’s mise-en-scène, and perhaps indicative of the general perception of “the foreigner” in early nineteenth century Iran, the same costume, a variety of cocked hat and military jacket, was (and often still is) used for both Qais and the European ambassador. Footnote 55
Berezin’s account has provided important evidence as to the timing of the integration of the story of Sultan Qais into The Martyrdom of Imam Husain. It shows that, whilst not present in the Litten and Chodzko collection versions of the same play (both sourced in Tehran and dating to the 1830s),Footnote 56 by 1259/1843 Āqāsī’s takiyeh, a takiyeh at the forefront of the taʿziyeh tradition, played this scene within the climactic play. This suggests that the scene was very possibly new, and was beginning to be performed as part of the climactic play during the early 1840s. While this is so, further evidence from a spectator account indicates that the content of the climactic play was still fluid, and that the scenes involving Qais and the Dervish of Kabul did not become permanent features until at least the second half of the nineteenth century. Lady Mary Sheil, who gives a detailed account of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain from Tehran in 1266/1849, recalls the apparition of Zaʿfar but she does not mention the Dervish of Kabul or Qais.Footnote 57 We also know that the story of Husain rescuing Qais continued to exist separately as a sub-episode until the close of the nineteenth century.Footnote 58
Combining the results from analysis of the scripts and the spectator accounts, we can draw three conclusions. First, the story of Husain saving Sultan Qais from the lion is likely to have entered the taʿziyeh in the early 1840s. It was played within the climactic play by 1259/1843 but did not become an integral feature of that play until the second half of the nineteenth century. Secondly, the Dervish of Kabul was also not an essential part of the climactic play until after 1266/1849, but by 1290/1873 his scene was being performed in the play’s second section. Thirdly, by around 1317/1900 the essential elements of the taʿziyeh of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain had settled into place, Husain’s encounters with both Sultan Qais and the Dervish of Kabul becoming pretty much indispensable features.
Reason for this Innovation: Completion of a Trilogy of Trials
By 1317/1900 The Martyrdom of Imam Husain had adopted a rounded form, composed of three distinct sections. In the first of these, the status quo is established and the focus is on Husain’s separation from his womenfolk and children. In the second section, he is alone and has three encounters with strangers. In the third and final scene, the Imam’s family once more become a center of focus and are close to him when he is killed by Shimr. We will now examine the second section. Evidence from a spectator account shows that Husain’s encounter with Zaʿfar featured in the middle of the play as early as 1227/1812.Footnote 59 The Litten and Chodzko scripts provide the detail of that encounter as portrayed in the 1830s. The following analysis of the content of the second section will show that the addition of Husain’s encounters with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais, during the thirteenth/nineteenth century, completed a trilogy of trials faced by Husain.Footnote 60
The Imam and his party have three fundamental problems at Karbala. They are desperate for water. They are dramatically outnumbered militarily. There is no escape. These facts are repeatedly underscored by both the action and dialogues. In the second section of the play the three strangers with whom Husain meets—the Dervish of Kabul, Zaʿfar and Sultan Qais—offer in turn water, military might and refuge. The Imam thus has the opportunity to solve each of his party’s fundamental problems yet resists temptation and refuses. Husain’s thrice reiterated refusal of aid has the effect of underscoring his acceptance of his fate, his commitment to God’s will and thus his infallibility. It also stresses that rather than being vanquished at Karbala, he accepts his and his family’s suffering, as he understands it to be for a higher purpose.
The Shiʿite audience will have had a pre-existing understanding of the concept of Husain’s martyrdom at Karbala being predestined; he must endure this ordeal in order to fulfill his divinely ordained duty. Nonetheless, this idea is highlighted during the first section of the play, as he bids goodbye to the women. The subsequent series of encounters (opportunities to evade his fate) are thus trials on the road. Husain’s commitment to his duty was already made clear in the play as it stood in 1256/1840, as shown by his answer in the Chodzko version to Zainab imploring him not to go into battle:
Did I not make a covenant with God the great giver? Did my Grandfather not lay down a condition (with me)? That I would give my life on the plain of anguish and affliction [Karbala] To become an intercessor for the sinful community on the Day of Judgement.
In the earlier versions of the climactic play, prior to the addition of the new characters, the interjections of the family as they beg Husain not to go onto the battlefield are more extended and wrought than in later versions. Indeed, resisting these pleas has been viewed in itself as a test of his resolve.Footnote 62 However, in later versions, which usually include the “trilogy of trials,” the dialogues in section one serve principally to highlight the family’s suffering whilst underscoring that Husain’s martyrdom is a foregone conclusion. Thus, the ground is prepared for his subsequent demonstration of resolve as he refuses the solutions to his problems offered by the Dervish of Kabul, Zaʿfar and Sultan Qais.
The Dervish of Kabul: water
The fact that the besieged party are desperate for water has already been made clear in earlier plays of the cycle. For example, Husain’s half-brother and standard-bearer ʿAbbās is martyred whilst valiantly attempting to break the siege and bring water from the Euphrates. In the climactic play, the arrival of the Dervish of Kabul is immediately preceded by Husain’s daughter Sakīneh crying with thirst and the previously described martyrdom of ʿAlī Asghar, whose mother’s milk has run dry. It is therefore no coincidence that the dervish arrives offering water.
When he first meets Husain, the dervish is not aware of his identity yet their initial interaction establishes that he is on a pilgrimage to the tomb of ʿAlī b. Abī Tālib in Najaf. When Husain queries his arrival at Karbala, the dervish explains that he has heard a child’s cries of thirst, thus filled his kashkūl with water and come to alleviate the suffering. Husain replies:
Oh dervish, that voice that reached your ear was my oppressed and heartbroken Sakīneh. For three days and nights that resplendent child has not seen a drop of water but for the tears of her eyes.
Despite his obvious distress for Sakīneh, the Imam tells the dervish to throw the water on the ground. A miracle occurs as the water pours through Husain’s fingers and onto the earth. He tells the dervish to watch as the parched plane of Karbala is momentarily flooded:
Look at the ground, all around it is full of water. Don’t imagine that water is unobtainable for me.
Different versions of the play agree almost unanimously on Husain miraculously turning the ground into an ocean as the dervish’s water falls. Some versions indicate an additional transmutation as the dervish exclaims having seen the water turn to jewels as it fell from the Imam’s hands.Footnote 65 The water being cast onto the earth demonstrates two important matters. The first is Husain’s restraint in not accepting this stranger’s offer of the much-needed liquid. Also, the significant secondary theme, of the miracle, is developed here. This supports the theme of the trial and resistance of temptation as the Imam’s ability to relieve the suffering himself, were he so to wish, is established.Footnote 66
Despite the thirst suffered by Husain and his family being the focus of the scene, the problem of them being militarily outnumbered is also reinforced. The dervish comments on the desperate scene of seeing a solitary figure up against an army as he enters Karbala, underscoring the uneven odds. Initially unaware of Husain’s identity the dervish asks him:
Who are you that you are standing so, one person alone, bewildered and facing the enemy?
Later, after having witnessed the miracle and discovering the Imam’s identity the dervish begs for, and is granted, permission to fight. He confronts Ibn Saʿd (commander of the enemy troops), berating him for his cruelty and is killed. The effect of the dervish’s martyrdom in the context of the trilogy of trials is to emphasize the bleakness of Husain’s situation in preparation for his refusal of the next offer, that of the intervention of a powerful army.
Zaʿfar, king of the jinn: military power
It should be noted that the apparition of Zaʿfar and his battalion of jinn at Karbala features in Kāshifī’s Rawzat al-shuhadāʾ (c. 908/1502), thus by the Qajar period Husain’s encounter with this character was in no way new to the Karbala narrative.Footnote 68 The taʿziyeh dramatization of this meeting begins with Husain asking the king of the jinn why he has come. Zaʿfar answers that the news of Husain’s abandoned state has greatly disturbed the jinn. Then he makes his offer:
A thousand of us have come, if you grant permission we will bring destruction upon the evildoers.
Husain assures him that his benevolence pleases God but that the affairs of humans and jinn cannot mix. Zaʿfar offers that, if Husain approves, they will assume human form in order to fight, yet the Imam remains steadfast. Whilst this encounter represents a trial (as Husain must refuse that which he needs most), given that the Qurʾan itself warns that associating with jinn leads to strife,Footnote 70 well may the Imam be expected to refuse this offer. Nonetheless the taʿziyeh dramatists always make clear that these jinn are believers. They have Zaʿfar express loyalty to the ahl-e bait. Furthermore, his dialogue with Husain always features some degree of the backstory from Rawzat al-shuhadāʾ, that Zaʿfar’s father had been converted to Islam and elevated to the status of monarch amongst his kind by ʿAlī b. Abī Tālib, after a skirmish inside the well of Biʾr-e ʿalam.Footnote 71
Sultan Qais of India: refuge
Having seen the Imam refuse water and military help, the audience now witness him forgo an opportunity to escape. The desire to seek refuge would perhaps be less obvious than the besieged party’s desperation for water and the situation of being militarily outnumbered, were it not explicitly demonstrated in a dialogue between Husain and Ibn Saʿd. This exchange sometimes comes in the first section of the play, at the same time as the Imam demanding that the enemy grant his family water. At other times, it comes immediately after the apparition of Zaʿfar but always before Husain’s encounter with Qais. The Imam asks Ibn Saʿd to allow him to flee from the lands of the Arabs; he gives several options of where he could go:
Allow me passage from the lands of the Arabs, I will go to China, to Zanzibar. I will go to India or Rum [Byzantium], make my way to the land of the Tartars.
Ibn Saʿd answers that he will not let Husain go abroad. The only choice he has is to go to Kufa (implying swearing allegiance to the town’s governor Ibn Ziyād and Yazīd) or onto the battlefield:
Where abroad would I allow you to escape from tyranny? Either you set foot in Kufa or go into battle.
The specifics of the potential destinations mentioned by Husain vary across different versions of the play but the meaning here is unequivocal.Footnote 74 The Imam is asking to be permitted to escape to a land outside of Yazīd’s domain.Footnote 75
The main purpose of the Sultan Qais scene is to demonstrate Husain resisting the very offer of foreign sanctuary that he has been explicitly shown to crave, thus completing the trilogy of trials. However, the beginning of the scene expands two secondary themes. The first is that of Husain’s family having supporters in distant lands, the second is the theme of the miracle and the Imam’s command over the natural world. Sultan Qais does not appear at Karbala, rather Husain travels momentarily to India to interact with him. Within the dramatic logic of taʿziyeh, the restrictions of time and space are commonly suspended.Footnote 76 Even so, it is not customary for characters to instantaneously transcend vast distances, so Husain’s sudden appearance in India is nonetheless remarkable.
An introductory dialogue between Qais and his vizier is used to establish that they are already Shiʿites and to locate the event on the tenth of Muharram (the characters mentioning the date). The identity of Sultan Qais has been subject to interpretation, leading to different readings of the temporal frame of this story. One reading has been to see him as a (fictional) ruler of Mughal India, and that thus Husain’s miracle was to transcend not only space but time, rescuing Qais on the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ many centuries after the battle of Karbala. However, based on the evidence of the scripts it is unlikely that the dramatists intended such a reading. Rather, the scripts suggest that the incident in India took place on the very day of the battle of Karbala. At times this is explicit. In more than one version the characters discuss not only the fact that it is the tenth of Muharram but that it is sixty-one years after the hijra, thus the year 61/680. This is a stichomythic conversation, the first hemistich belongs to Qais, the second to his vizier:
Qais: Vizier, how long has now passed since the hijra of the seal [of the prophets].
Vizier: Sixty-one years have passed since the hijra of that sovereign of the world.
What’s more, the characters also discuss being heavy-hearted in connection with the fact that it is the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ, yet as opposed to remembering Husain’s martyrdom they speak in the subjunctive mood of their fear that harm will come to him.
Qais: I fear that harm will come to my signor Husain ibn ʿAlī.
Vizier: His lord will protect him from the evil of the enemy.
Following this discussion, to dispel their trepidation regarding Husain’s safety, the pair decide to go hunting but are subsequently attacked by a lion. They first try to defend themselves with a weapon but realize that only their faith can save them and call for Husain. The Imam pacifying the lion shows his dominion over the natural world whilst confirming that these two are believers, as he tells the lion that the flesh of his family’s followers is forbidden to wild beasts:
Lion, those who are our friends from the soul are not the food of predators.
When Qais enquires as to Husain’s bloodied state, he is told of the situation at Karbala and offers refuge in India. Again a stichomythic conversation; the first hemistich here belongs to Qais, the second to the Imam:
Qais: Stay in India, abandon Karbala so full of anguish.
Husain: What use is my remaining with the blood of the adolescent Akbar.
The most important point here is that despite previously having declared a desire to escape to a distant land, when offered refuge abroad Husain declines. His declaration that he does not want to live after the death of his son is made in most versions of the script, yet ʿAlī Akbar’s death had already taken place before Husain requested that Ibn Saʿd allow him passage out of the lands of the Arabs. Thus, the effect remains; we know that the Imam desires to escape but, when given the chance, he resists the temptation to avoid his fate. Instead, Husain instructs Qais to mourn for him, often specifying that this should be for ten days every year during Muharram.
We have seen that the incorporation of the stories of the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais into The Martyrdom of Imam Husain turned the second section of the play into a trilogy of trials. Solutions to the critical problems of lack of water, insurmountable military odds and the impossibility of escape were now all refused by Husain. This allowed the Imam’s commitment to his covenant, stressed in the dialogues with the women and children in the first section, to be tested and his purity proven.Footnote 81
Before moving on from the theme of the trial, or indeed temptation, a valuable literary analysis of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain by Rebecca Ansary Pettys should be discussed. She bases her study on four versions of the script, the Chodzko and Pelly versions (also included in this study) and two other versions last copied during the 1960s.Footnote 82 Ansary Pettys identifies the importance of the theme of resistance to temptation, this being Husain’s resistance of the urge to stay alive to protect his womenfolk and children by using his own powers or accepting military help from outsiders.Footnote 83 Adding the further thirteen renditions of Husain’s martyrdom examined in this study gives a more nuanced understanding of this theme. It becomes clear that although Husain is torn between his earthly and heavenly duties, the women and children representing an earthly bind, it is the encounters with strangers that act as explicit opportunities for the Imam to evade his fate and thus as a series of tests. Moreover, the additional scripts show the offers of help from outsiders to be more diverse. Rather than refusing three offers of military help, Husain in fact refuses an offer of water for his besieged party, one offer of military help and an offer of foreign refuge. Thus, solutions to three distinct yet fundamental problems faced by the party at Karbala are made available. Two of these offers are made by the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais, hence the assertion of this study that they were incorporated into the play to complete a trilogy of trials.
Based on her sources, it is not surprising that Ansary Pettys believed the offers of help from strangers to be in the form of military might. In the Chodzko script (1830s) we see the dramatists beginning to develop the second section of the play, moving towards a series of encounters. The apparition of Zaʿfar and his army features but Futrus, a once fallen angel, also arrives offering the aid of an angelic battalion (Husain of course declines).Footnote 84 In addition to this, Sultan Qais features in only two of the scripts examined by Ansary Pettys; in one of these he offers refuge but in the other he offers to send an army to Karbala. This brings us to an important point regarding the likely literary origins of this story and how it evolved as it was integrated into the climactic episode of the taʿziyeh repertoire.
Literary Origins
It should first be clarified that whilst the apparition of Zaʿfar at Karbala features in Kāshifī’s Rawzat al-shuhadāʾ (c. 908/1502), well known as a principal source for the taʿziyeh’s narrative content, Husain’s encounters with Qais and the Dervish of Kabul do not. However, the story of Husain appearing in India and saving Qais from the lion on the day of his martyrdom is recounted in Jawharī’s Tūfān al-bukāʾ (The Tempest of Tears), a lithographed book of religious stories completed in 1250/1834 and first published in 1252–53/1837.Footnote 85Tūfān includes many martyrdom stories that are dramatized within the taʿziyeh repertoire and was reportedly widely used by composers of taʿziyeh. Footnote 86 Husain’s refusal of Zaʿfar and his army’s help at Karbala is also narrated by Jawharī but the Dervish of Kabul does not feature.
Given that Tūfān al-bukāʾ began to circulate in Iran shortly before our first evidence of Husain rescuing Qais within the taʿziyeh (Berezin’s 1259/1843 spectator account), and the similarity of narrative detail, the book is likely to have been the dramatists’ source for this story. Tūfān is comprised of both poetry and prose. Whilst the taʿziyeh dramatists generally versified the conversation between Husain and Qais in their own way, we have one example amongst the scripts featuring lines taken directly from Tūfān. Footnote 87 There is, however, an important narrative difference between Jawharī’s story and the encounter as we commonly find it within The Martyrdom of Imam Husain. In Jawharī’s version, instead of offering refuge in India, Qais offers to send an army to Karbala (the remainder of the interaction being familiar from the taʿziyeh with Husain declining and ordering Qais to go home and establish a mourning ritual for him). This difference is significant, as it indicates that the detail of Qais offering Husain refuge was an innovation of the taʿziyeh dramatists as they incorporated the story into the second section of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain. They distinguished Qais’ proposal from Zaʿfar’s, turning it into an unambiguous offer of a direct solution to a different one of Husain’s three fundamental problems at Karbala. Indeed the scripts provide further evidence to this effect. As has previously been discussed, this story existed as a separate taʿziyeh sub-episode before becoming incorporated into the climactic play. In the two examples that we have of the taʿziyeh of Sultan Qais as a sub-episode, as in Tūfān al-bukāʾ, Qais offers military help instead of refuge.Footnote 88 Then, amongst the ten taʿziyeh renditions of Husain’s martyrdom featuring Sultan Qais, between The Martyrdom of Imam Husain and Haftād u du tan, seven feature his offer of refuge whilst three feature the offer of an army.Footnote 89 From the fact that some still feature the offer of an army, we should understand that this innovation was not universally adopted, with some composers choosing to follow the narrative detail of Tūfān al-bukāʾ. However, the fact that the majority of scripts do feature the adapted version of Qais’ offer shows a definite trend in tailoring the content of the scene to create an effective third element of the “trilogy of trials.”
One further point must be raised about the literary origins of Husain’s encounter with Sultan Qais. Whilst a survey of visual material is outside the scope of this study, it is highly interesting that a depiction of this scene features on a storyteller’s canvas discussed in a recent work by Ulrich Marzolph which, quoting Jābir ʿAnāsirī, the author dates to the Zand period.Footnote 90 Such portable canvases were used as backdrops by storytellers in a tradition known as pardeh-darī or shamāyil-gardānī, the performers pointing to the scenes portrayed as they gave their narrations.Footnote 91 If ʿAnāsirī and Marzolph’s dating is correct, this canvas would show that the story of Sultan Qais circulated amongst oral storytellers around half a century before its appearance in Tūfān al-bukāʾ. As is about to be shown in the discussion of the origins of the story of the Dervish of Kabul, there is a clear connection between the stories recounted by orators during Muharram (from as far back as the Safavid period) and the narrative detail of the taʿziyeh repertoire. However, with regard to the story of Sultan Qais, the previously demonstrated direct link with Tūfān al-bukāʾ together with there being no evidence of Qais in the taʿziyeh repertoire prior to 1259/1843 (after Tūfān’s first publication), suggest a particular order of transmission. It is probable that Jawharī himself drew from the stories circulating amongst the storytellers and that his work then brought this story to the attention of the taʿziyeh composers. This is testament to the interconnected nature of oral storytelling, popular religious literature of the Qajar period and the taʿziyeh tradition. Footnote 92
As for the Dervish of Kabul, this character also has roots in literature (this time possibly solely of an oral nature) predating his entrance to the taʿziyeh repertoire. Indeed, his story is one of the founding myths of the Khāksār dervishes who claim that their order was established in memory of a dervish from Kabul who had met Husain at Karbala.Footnote 93 Interestingly, there is evidence of a societal connection between this order and the taʿziyeh-khānān (taʿziyeh performers) of the Qajar period. The Dervish of Kabul becoming an integral element of the climactic play may well have been the legacy of that connection. Silsileh-ye ʿAjam was a branch of the Khāksār order, active in thirteenth/nineteenth century Iran.Footnote 94 Its members organized rawzeh-khānī recitals in coffeehouses during the months of Muharram, Safar and also Ramadan.Footnote 95 They had a futuvvat circle, an association for working men, only for the “gainfully employed.”Footnote 96 They drew affiliates from amongst practitioners of seventeen trades, to correspond with what they believed to be the occupations of the founders of their association.Footnote 97 The specifics of these seventeen occupations vary depending on the source. However, seven lists of the trades of the members have been cross-referenced by Willem Floor. Three cite rawzeh-khānān (eulogists for the Shiʿa martyrs) as members, with one also specifically recording the membership of taʿziyeh performers.Footnote 98 This connection may well have provided the link through which the founding myth of the Khāksār, the Dervish of Kabul’s encounter with Husain, entered the taʿziyeh repertoire and explain the character being considered important enough to feature in the climactic play.
Furthermore, we find evidence of Husain’s encounter with the dervish, albeit with a narrative twist, being recounted during rawzeh-khānī recitals from as early as the Safavid period. Jean Chardin describes a mourning recital in Isfahan on the tenth of Muharram 1085/1674. He recalls that when Husain was wounded on the battlefield and expiring of thirst, an angel came to him in the guise of a hermit and offered him a bowl of water. Husain refused, saying if he wanted to have water he would receive it and touching the ground with one finger a great jet of water spurted forth.Footnote 99 This is unmistakably the same scene that is played in the taʿziyeh. Thomas Salmons and Matthias Van Goch, who describe the rawzeh-khānī recitals during the Muharram commemorations of 1150/1737, recount a further version of the same story. They tell of Husain refusing a pot of water from an angel at Karbala, declaring that should he wish to evade his fate he could merely put one finger into the ground and a spring would gush forth. In addition to this they recall armed men performing the suffering and death of Husain in the streets during the recitals. Their actions included acting out of the refusal of water (in emulation of Husain’s refusal of the angel’s water). Interestingly, they also acted out the offering and refusal of military help, which the authors explain was due to Husain’s refusal of the help of armed angels who wished to serve him at Karbala.Footnote 100
These accounts show that the concept of Husain being offered and refusing solutions to his problems at Karbala, thus demonstrating his resolve, was not new to the Qajar period audience. Having been recounted in the rawzeh-khānī recitals of previous centuries, as the taʿziyeh tradition was taking shape, this idea was embedded in the popular consciousness. This helps to explain why the audience accepted the addition of the encounters with the Dervish of Kabul and Sultan Qais to the taʿziyeh portrayal of the Imam’s last hours.
Conclusion
In sum, the evidence suggests that the Dervish of Kabul entered the taʿziyeh as a prologue or sub-episode after 1256/1840 but by 1290/1873 had become part of the central section of the climactic play. The story of Husain saving Sultan Qais from the lion was certainly played within the climactic play by 1259/1843 but continued to exist as a separate sub-episode. Like Husain’s encounter with the Dervish of Kabul, it appeared in the vast majority of versions of The Martyrdom of Imam Husain by around 1317/1900. It is highly likely that Jawharī’s Tūfān al-bukāʾ was the taʿziyeh dramatist’s source for the story of Sultan Qais. This reinforces our understanding of their composition process. However, in a broader sense it also shows the capacity of print technology, in this case lithography that was new to Iran in the 1830s, to contribute to the diffusion of fresh material within the taʿziyeh repertoire.Footnote 101 Moreover, interplay is evident between the different forms in which the martyrdom narratives circulated, be they enacted by taʿziyeh performers, narrated by storytellers or written and illustrated on the pages of lithographed books.
By tracking the introduction of the new scenes to the climactic play, we also see how the taʿziyeh became more sophisticated as a genre during the Qajar period. Whilst integrating stories and narrative concepts from pre-existing religious literature, the dramatists also edited that content to suit their purposes. Their changing the offer made by Sultan Qais to Husain, from one of military aid to one of refuge, in order to complete the “trilogy of trials,” is an example of their growing confidence and license. Examining earlier devotional literature has shown that the audience is likely to have accepted these innovations, even within the treatment of an event of such religious importance, because the concepts expressed were not new, but in fact well known to them.
In considering the difference between the offers of assistance rejected by Husain as recounted in the rawzeh-khānī recitals of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and those he rejects in the taʿziyeh by the close of the nineteenth century, we see that the main difference is who is making those offers. Attempts to help made by supernatural beings, jinn and angels, become help offered by humans, potential representatives of living social groups, the Khāksār dervishes and the Shiʿites of India. The founding myth of the former group being dramatized in the taʿziyeh may well have been due to the societal connection between the taʿziyeh performers and the ʿAjam branch of the Khāksār order. It is also interesting that when taking into account Husain’s instruction to Qais to go back to India and set up a mourning ritual for him, we can see this story as a further founding myth, explaining the existence of a culture of lament for Husain in India. In both cases, the stories tie their respective groups to a crucial moment in history, confirming their loyalty to the ahl-e bait. In the instance of Sultan Qais, this may have been an early expression of pan-Shiʿism, as increased contact with foreigners during the thirteenth/nineteenth century made Iranian Shiʿites more aware of their global context.
is written 
. This spelling eccentricity appears in other places in the manuscript. MS 583 shares the first hemistich of this couplet, the second one reads: Standing alone like a lion on the battlefield 
.
