The knower as an artist

I was interested to read, and I recommend, Sen's response to Paul Lample's article, "Learning and the evolution of the Baha'i community", which is found on Sen's blog. I liked the way Sen emphasised that a Baha'i scholar is an artist and cannot get away from that fact, because everyone necessarily has a personal, creative interpretation of the revelation. No one can, as Sen puts it, "stand in the shoes of that Author".

"It goes without saying that God creates ‘ex nihilo,’ while we create from what God has given us. In the case of theology, we create from the examples of the Manifestations, from scriptural resources, and from questions. Creativity is not an optional characteristic of scholarship, it is inherent. The choice is between being conscious of it, and distinguishing it from the materials we were given, or being unaware of it and blithely supposing that what we ‘find’ in the Writings is simply their intended meaning — as if we could stand in the shoes of that Author !" -- Sen McGlinn

I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past several months about the idea that the scholar is an artist. This came about because I started analysing the phenomena of movies and fiction and their influence on me; for example, why I love them so much, why they captivate people, and how their influence can be harnessed for the revelation. These were new questions for me. They reflected a fundamental change, which lead to my wondering what human activities really are most influential for getting the message across. Up until early this year, I had assumed that the way to go was to use rational argument. I had gained degrees in philosophy and in law and had learned to put together a rational argument. But something happened this year - a mid-life re-examination of my life - and I realised I was bored with this rational approach to things. Having worked as a professional writer for 15 years and done a lot of writing for the faith, I guess I was written out. This lead me to examine the power of creative pursuits, in order to broaden my horizons.
This examination process showed me that I had a hidden prejudice, or something of that sort, against the worth of creative pursuits. That didn't mean I didn't appreciate them, for I love many arts, but I assumed that they were the poor relation beside rational pursuits, when it came to usefulness in teaching the Faith. I assumed that 'direct teaching' was most effective because, well, it is direct and gets to the nitty gritty. Steve looked up some quotes on the topic for me and I quickly learned that the Guardian had a similar opinion about the arts. For example, when asked about teaching the faith through fiction, he argued that there wasn't time for such an indirect approach to teaching:

"He would not recommend fiction as a means of teaching; the condition of the world is too acute to permit of delay in giving them the direct teachings, associated with the name of Baha'u'llah. But any suitable approach to the Faith, which appeals to this or that group, is certainly worthy of effort, as we wish to bring the Cause to all men, in all walks of life, of all mentalities.(3)" (23 March 1945) (Shoghi Effendi: Writers and Writing, p 412)

But, you know, I've spent nearly 30 years thinking that I shouldn't do things because there just isn't time. And after 30 years, somehow that argument doesn't cut ice any more. Humanity is always on the brink of some catastrophe; it was on the brink of WW2 then and it's on the brink of financial collapse now. Does that really mean there's no time for fiction? Steve told me today that Sen recently argued on Talisman9 that the 'end time' was when Baha'u'llah came; we are now in the period where humanity works out what that means for its future. Surely fiction and the arts have a role to play in that process. I guess I'm rebelling against the fact that I've spent half my life feeling like I didn't have time to live; that to have a life was selfish and something I should sacrifice for the sake of the Cause.

And so, spurred on by the fact that I no longer believe the end is nigh, I stayed the course and continued my examination of the power of fiction. It was Steve who said, one day in the middle of a conversation about these things, that fiction acted like a mirror. I realised he had a good point - fiction about the Baha'i community acts like a mirror on that community; it shows the community, warts and all (assuming it's done properly), to that community and to the world. When I thought about it, I realised that this was indeed a powerful instrument. Any fiction written about a subject that people intrepret with entirely different worldviews is going to cause a stir. And this even more so when there are power and control issues involved. The other thought I had was in relation to Sen's idea of the postmodern society, where you have independent but complementary areas of human activity: religion, state, arts, science, law and so on. Each of these is an important and worthy pursuit and has its own rules of participation. Baha'is should participate in the arts because it is a worthy human endeavour like any other. It is not trumped by religion - just as religion cannot render the state obsolete, it cannot say the arts are a waste of time. Furthermore, just as the state has its own rules, the arts do too - in other words, the arts should be an independent statement on reality and not a slave to vested religious interests.
Given this, it's no wonder Paul Lample says that the Baha'i scholar isn't an artist, for the true artist produces a personal and independent image of reality. By denying that the Baha'i scholar is an artist, the idea is, I suggest, to rule out a legitimate place for depictions of reality outside the institutions' agenda.

Baha'u'llah's wit

This week I had reason to reread sections of Ustad Muhammad Ali Salmani's memoirs about Baha'u'llah. Salmani was Baha'u'llah's barber and so had the priviledge of getting quite close to him. He was also a man who didn't suffer fools gladly and was straight about the way he saw things. As a result, he quickly cottoned on to the fact that Baha'u'llah's half-brother, Azal, was an unpleasant character to say the least. Salmani's first one-to-one encounter with Azal was at a stopover on the journey to Istanbul, where the party needed to cross the Tigris river. Salmani offered, and Abdu'l-Baha agreed, that Salmani would cross the river first so he could receive the luggage as it arrived. Salmani got into a boat, and there happened to be one other person in the boat as well. This person was Azal, but Salmani didn't know who he was then. This is the fascinating conversation that ensued. It gives us a good idea of Azal's personality as well as Salmani's:

'[Azal] said, "Where are you from?" (He would speak very roughly, and it was hateful to hear him.)
I said, "From Isfahan."
He said, "Why did you get in this boat? Who gave you permission?"
I said, "I am here by permission of a great Personage."
He said, "Now that you have come here without anyone's leave, what would you do if I gave you two or three blows with my club?" (He had a cudgel in his hand.)
I said, "If I were a mild-mannered person I would forgive you. But if I come to any harm from that club, I will take it away from you and give you such a thrashing that you will forget all about how brave you were."
This infuriated him. Anyhow, he said nothing more, and the boat reached the other side.' (p 29)

You are left with the impression that Azal was ready to appease his appetite for abuse and domination once he had established in his own mind that Salmani had no protector.

This story gives you an idea of what a gem these memoirs are. They give us real insight into the way the believers around Baha'u'llah interacted and how Bah'u'llah fitted into the social network. And with Salmani being such a straight talker, you feel you're getting an accurate picture.
One of the things that comes through in the account is that Baha'u'llah had a dry, ironic sense of humour. I'll never forget being shocked to my boots by one remark Salmani reports Baha'u'llah made in jest. It was made at the time when Baha'u'llah had been ordered to leave Istanbul for Edirne. The account makes it clear that for a while Baha'u'llah was adamant that he would not go. He was determined to stand his ground and let the consequences be what they may. He was happy to die for refusing to go but did not believe that the authorities would kill him. It was at this time that the following occurred:

'Then Shamsi Bey paid an official call and declared on behalf of the government: "You are ordered to Edirne."
Baha'u'llah categorically stated: "We refuse."
After Shamsi Bey had gone, Baha'u'llah came out and said to the friends, "Be confident. Nothing bad will happen." Smiling, He added: "And anyway, what could be the harm of it if I should give them two or three of you no-goods to put to death?" And then He left.' (p39)

As it turned out, Baha'u'llah relented and agreed to go to Edirne because Azal and his allies Siyyid Muhammad and Haji Mirza Ahmad kept at him about it so much. But Baha'u'llah was bitterly disappointed. He saw the situation as a God-send for proclaiming the Faith. He said: "If, in Istanbul, Azal had allowed it to happen, there would have been a wonderful proclamation of the Cause of God. Had they killed us, this would have spread the Faith far and wide, and had they not killed us - and they would not have - this too would have widely proclaimed it." (p40-1)
Salmani gives another small example of Baha'u'llah's wit. In Edirne, Baha'u'llah had wintered over in his own house but now, with the spring, was paying a visit to the friends in their house.

'When the weather turned beautiful and we were on the threshold of spring, He came to the believers' lodging one day to express His consideration for us, and His loving care. That day, a bird was singing in our tree, and He commented: "Better get him something for his throat - he isn't doing too well."' (p43)

These are just a couple of examples of Baha'u'llah's wit. There are many others in the various accounts available from those who knew Baha'u'llah well. Salmani's account is available from Kalimat Press and Amazon.
MY MEMORIES OF BAHÁ'U'LLÁH, By Ustád Muhammad-'Alíy-i Salmání, the Barber, translated by Marzieh Gail, 1982.

A culture of learning and intellectual pride

This morning I read the blurb from the Baha'i World News Service about the recent North American Baha'i Studies conference held in San Diego, which finished on 1 September. Hushmand Fatheazam, former member of the Universal House of Justice, gave the Hasan M. Balyuzi Memorial Lecture on the subject "Some Observations on the Scope and Value of Baha'i Scholarship." The news release tells us that Mr. Fatheazam gave the following advice to Baha'i scholars:

"While underlining the vital contributions of Baha'i scholarship to the development of the Baha'i Faith and the progress of society, he cautioned against the temptations of intellectual pride that scholars from all traditions have historically been susceptible to, and urged Baha'is to pursue paths of scholarship with the utmost humility."

This is a favourite theme of those high up in the Baha'i administration: the curse of intellectual pride on the part of Baha'i scholars. Not long before my expulsion, I was invited along to a meeting at my local centre, which was dedicated to this theme and was based on a compilation on Baha'i scholarship and its pitfalls by the House of Justice.
But as I read the above advice, reported as given from one of impeccable community credentials and assured salvation, new thoughts come to me. Why is it that he and his colleagues never apply this theme of intellectual pride to leaders of religion? The scholars are invariably singled out and cautioned, as if they're poised to run amok like Baha'i youth at a summer school. But never a word about leaders of religion. It strikes me as a case of the pot calling the kettle black.
The theme of pride and, indeed, "veils of glory" as it relates to leaders of religion, far from being an obscure idea, is one Baha'u'llah emphasised, and gets a lot of airing in the writings. For example:

"Leaders of religion, in every age, have hindered their people from attaining the shores of eternal salvation, inasmuch as they held the reins of authority in their mighty grasp. Some for the lust of leadership, others through want of knowledge and understanding, have been the cause of the deprivation of the people." (Kitab-i-Iqan, p 15, emphasis mine)

And again:

"But as they [the Christians] failed to recognize the accents of God and the divine mysteries and holy allusions enshrined in that which flowed from the tongue of Muhammad, and as they neglected to examine the matter in their own hearts, and followed instead those priests of error who have hindered the progress of the people in past dispensations and who will continue to do so in future cycles, they were thus veiled from the divine purpose, failed to quaff from the celestial streams, and deprived themselves of the presence of God, the Manifestation of His Essence, and the Dayspring of His eternity." (Gems of Divine Mysteries, paragraph 54, emphasis mine)

The theme in the writings that leaders of religion fall prey to intellectual pride, and lead people away from recognising the manifestation, is not discussed at Baha'i conferences. Instead, the evidence is that Baha'i leaders of religion persist in reminding scholars about their uncontrollable egos, sending scholars scuttling into dark corners lest they inadvertently catch their leaders' unwelcome attention. Given this climate of 'learning', I shouldn't think there was any danger a scholar worthy of the name would raise the subject of leaders of religion going bad - unless, of course, it was to argue that the House of Justice isn't a leader of religion, or is infallible and therefore not subject to the failings of those Baha'u'llah identified. Or perhaps the matter has been put to rest by the Department of the Secretariat in a letter to an individual: "There is nothing in the Writings to support the view that the opposition or persecution [of the next manifestation] will be instigated or inflicted by the Universal House of Justice." Letter from the Department of the Secretariat, 1997

The Baha'i modernist worldview

For those who haven't had a chance to read Sen's fabulous blog entry, I recommend they do. It's called "For the betterment of the world" and this blog entry is a response to it.

Although Sen wrote the essay because he wanted to discuss the issue of Baha'i involvement in politics, I find the ideas in it clarify other issues I have been struggling with - and these have to do with how modernism has shaped the way Baha'is see the faith. One of the crucial things that Sen does in his essay is explain clearly the difference between pre-modern society, a modern state and a postmodern state. The modern state is described as "rationalised, centralised, nationalist, colonialist (and oppressive where it can get away with it), with a state ideology and ideological political parties - intrudes on the sphere of thought, including religion. It tries to "train" the citizens it needs, or thinks it needs, and to justify its actions and ambitions, and it employs ideological tools such as patriotism or a particular state ideology to do it." When I read this, I see the Baha'i administration with its community fallen into line. OK, it's not nationalist, but it is triumphalist within the sphere of religion. Most important for my discussion here is that it intrudes into the sphere of thought of members and trains them for its ideological goals.

Towards the end of the essay, Sen says that: "It is important for Bahais to note that the high tide of the modern state coincides with the end of Abdu’l-Baha’s ministry and the whole of Shoghi Effendi’s ministry." To me, this explains the worldview in which the Guardian dreamed up the Baha'i administration. No doubt the Guardian never intended to it to fall prey to the negative aspects of modernity - using the administration as a way of getting power and wealth, attacking social groups that are disliked, or to promote exclusivity and triumphalism - but he had a modern worldview nonetheless. And because Baha'is are stuck in a Guardian time warp, they still see the faith in a modernist way. Key features of this include: a centralised administration that wields absolute authority using the ideology that the administration is, exclusively, the Baha'i Faith. This is justified on the basis of a self-serving, narrow interpretation of the covenant, backed up with the idolatrous doctrine of infallibility. All those wishing to join are persuaded to accept this claim, encouraged to put all their resources into carrying out the centralised plans, and indoctrinated to believe that there is no salvation outside this realm. All activity must take place within the acceptable spheres of participation; those who follow their own star are ostracised and those who speak out in a persuasive way are disenrolled.

A crucial idea that helps to prop up this ideological structure is the argument that the term 'unenrolled Baha'i' is an oxymoron (a contradition in terms) - to be a Baha'i, one must be a member of the Baha'i community. One way to see the huge psychological power this idea has on the minds of Baha'is is to liken it to the concept of 'pointing the bone' once used, as I understand it, by Australian aborigines. If a person had the bone pointed at them, they simply wandered away and died. It was a death sentence. Similarly, Baha'is cannot imagine surviving without membership in the Baha'i community, as if there's no oxygen 'out there' to breathe. This notion that being an unenrolled Baha'i is impossible does not have its roots in the revelation; it comes out of the Baha'i modernist worldview.

Sen's discussion on the concept of modernism has shed light on another issue that has been with me for several years - and that is the push to work like a Trojan, 24/7, because there isn't any time! Previously, I interpreted this drive to work, work, work, and its associated anxiety about laziness, as the protestant work ethic. But recently, in conversation with Steve, I realised that there is another source for this nagging silent voice, and that is the words of the Guardian: "The field is indeed so immense, the period so critical, the Cause so great, the workers so few, the time so short, the privilege so priceless, that no follower of the Faith of Baha'u'llah, worthy to bear His name, can afford a moment's hesitation." (Advent of Divine Justice, p46) That was written in 1939, just before World War Two, and, I realise now, is also a crucial aspect of the Baha'i modernist worldview. Not only must Baha'is operate within sanctified spheres for salvation, but there isn't time to do anything else if we're to save humanity. Don't glance out the window, keep facing straight ahead, don't lose your chance. I swear, I've spent nearly three decades running around in a panic because of that quote (hence the feelings of uselessness expressed in the earlier blog entry). All for what? Have the Baha'is saved humanity? No, they can't even save themselves. We are all still here; it's just 70 years on. But I can see the passage in its context now; I see it from the point of view of one who lives beyond the millennium, outside the Baha'i community, and free of Baha'i modernist ideology.

And so the last 30-odd years of my life will be spent being a Baha'i in a postmodern world, free to discover for myself what that means. Sen describes the postmodern state: "In the postmodern state, the state recognises its limitations. It has no business in the world of thought, it cannot direct the economy although it can provide good law. It does not have any legitimate means to train the right kind of citizens..." I'm going to follow my own star; I'm going to fulfil my duties to Baha'u'llah according to my spiritual calling; I'm going to do things I would never have done had I remained a member of the Baha'i community; and I'm going to discover things about myself I wouldn't have discovered otherwise. And one day - it'll come - the Baha'i administration will realise that it needs to get out of the world of thought, stop indoctrinating its members according to its self-serving ideology, and get down to the virtuous business of making good law.

Ahang's witnesses: volume 3, part 3

I continue my review of volume 3 of Ahang's witnesses series, a memoir of Dr Mu'ayyad titled "Eight Years Near Abdu'l-Baha". In part 1, I focused on the first two chapters; in part 2, I covered chapters 3-5; in this installment, I cover chapters 6-8. In part 2, I noted that I could not access volume 3 on Ahang's site and assumed that this was a temporary glitch. However, the problem continues, indicating that it's been taken down indefinitely. Therefore, this installment will be the last I'll do on volume 3. There's no point in my reviewing volumes my readers can't access. I'll move on to something else that everyone can read.

Chapter 6 is a different kettle of fish from the previous chapters. The events take place in Abu Sinan in November 1914; in other words, it is the beginning of the war and life changes a great deal. Footnote 241 tells us that "Abu Sinan is a village on the eastern side of Akka." Dr Mu'ayyad explains that the war made life hell. He describes it this way:

"With the passage of each day, worries and apprehensions grew more desperate. Power rested in the hands of a number of ruthless military men who did not consider themselves accountable to anyone. It was a day of mayhem and plunder by the Ottoman officials. They caused difficulties for whomever they chose and destroyed the innocent with the most meager charges. No one had the least control over his possessions or life. The government was in the control of a number of faithless, bloodthirsty and cruel men... Gallows were active in every town, all prominent citizens were eliminated. It was a time for Pashas to settle accounts with their opponents and to exact revenge [through hanging]. As soon as the smallest complaint was raised against anyone, immediately a file would be prepared for him and his demise was assured." (page 180)

As you can imagine, this was the perfect opportunity for Abdu'l-Baha's enemies to move against him. They gave gifts to Jamal Pasha, the military commander, which included Baha'u'llah's tent and carpets from his home. In doing so, they made complaints about Abdu'l-Baha, saying that he was a "political mishief-maker and a religious rabble-rouser", had "designs to inaugurate a new monarchy" and was "a foreign agent". "They painted the Greatest Name on a flag and presented it as Abdu'l-Baha's new 'Standard of Monarchy'". (p182) Abdu'l-Baha's situation became so grave that he sent every Baha'i out of Akka and Haifa. Only he remained in Akka, with a servant. Dr Mu'ayyad went to live in Abu Sinan.

Dr Mu'ayyad's residence in Abu Sinan has to be read to be believed. It was one room at street level made of clay bricks, 7-8 metres long, 3-4 metres wide and 3-4 meters high, with one warped door and one window. The ceiling was held up by "four bent and termite-infested beams" (p191). "When [they were] closed, it was totally dark, and when opened, the unbearable cold, particularly on cloudy or rainy days, cut through us. In fact, when it rained, it flooded the room, and we had to find ways to keep the water out."(p191) Dr Mu'ayyad would light a fire inside the room to keep warm, even though this meant that the room filled with smoke. Outside the door was an area of two square metres that was lower than ground level, in which the landlord placed figs for sale.

Dr Mu'ayyad lived in the room with Badi Effendi, a school teacher (although, when they had visitors, there was up to six people sleeping in it). In addition to sleeping in this room, they both used it for their occupations through the day; so Badi used it for teaching children and Dr Mu'ayyad used it as an office and for surgery!

"In addition to practicing regular medicine, I occasionally performed surgery, during which Lua Getsinger acted as the anesthetic technition. At times, Badi Effendi would help by providing anesthetics. The wonder of it was that all of those operations were successful, and I often performed surgeries that I had never performed before, particularly because I had only recently completed medical school and did not have much experience, nor adequate medical supplies... One hundred percent of my practice was successful and never once did I lose a patient. Despite the lack of medication and proper instruments, I attempted every necessary procedure and the Almighty always granted the healing." (page 190)

Abdu'l-Baha would visit whenever he could. He stayed with the Greatest Holy Leaf, who was living next door to Dr Mu'ayyad's room. She cooked the food for those staying in it. Dr Mu'ayyad stresses that, despite his living conditions and the political situation, he and fellow Baha'is were very happy. I think I would have been traumatised by seeing people being hung all the time. Dr Mu'ayyad says that people were hung for as little as leaving lights on at night.

Chapters 7 and 8 continue the earlier pattern of the memoirs, containing numerous accounts of talks and sayings from Abdu'l-Baha. I'll end with a few that interested me. On page 222, Dr Mu'ayyad quotes Abdu'l-Baha saying: "Plant fruit trees since they are productive. I am very fond of fruit trees, though I never eat fruits, except an occasional sweet tangerine. Nevertheless, I love for the tree to bear fruits." This intrigued me because, this year, I have planted several fruit trees in my garden. We don't have a large garden (I'd love to have more land), but I figured out a way to plant fruit trees anyway. I have even planted a walnut tree. I guess it's a sign of the new revelation that my walnut tree is grafted and will fruit almost immediately; I don't have to wait decades for walnuts! With global warming bringing an uncertain future, I decided to redesign my garden, taking out ornamentals and planting trees, shrubs, climbers and groundcovers that all fruit.

On page 220, Dr Mu'ayyad says that a "shining cat" was sitting next to Abdu'l-Baha and pressing herself against him. He said: "This cat has such bliss that none of earth's monarchs can rival her. She has no fears or worries and is completely protected and cared for by God." Steve and I adore our cat, and we often comment about how happy he is. Each day, I contemplate him and his relaxed attitude to life; he is a constant reminder to me of what union with God looks like. At the moment, he is fast asleep on his special bed on the couch. I call him a 'living ornament'. Functionally, he is as useless as an ornament on my wall, but he is living - he moves and eats. I love him and look after him as a member of the family. He's an example of why looking at things in a wholly functional way is a mistake. My cat is magic and spiritual and brings joy; medicine is just finding out how such things as having cats improves our health.

On page 223, Dr Mu'ayyad quotes Abdu'l-Baha as saying: "Cleanliness has a profound effect on the spirit... Even though some things are earth-bound, they have great effect on the soul, such as cleanliness or a good voice. Voice is no more than airwaves that reach one's ear and cause the vibration of the eardrums. Yet, consider its profound effect on the spirit. Similarly, cleanliness effects the soul." This is an issue I've often wondered about. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness" is a famous Christian saying that I associate with Victorian England, and so it comes with baggage for me. But I'm re-examining it in my own life. Recently, I eliminated many activities and concerns from my life that were not contributing to my spiritual health (such as participating in discussion lists and concerning myself with Baha'i community goings-on). The result is that I have more time than I used to. When I was 'busy', I used to think that I didn't have enough time for cleanliness. I don't mean that I lived in squalor; it's more a question of priorities. Now that I am not busy wasting my energies, I have more time to look after the cleanliness aspects of my life, and I will stop thinking it's just a physical thing and doesn't matter. This is just one consequence of my decision to follow new paths. The other day, I said to Steve that I had turned my life into a chore. I want it to be a creative endeavour.

Snow-animals letter

Last week, I went through my provisional translations and put them into clear files. I had allowed them to fall into a mess and couldn't find anything. During the clean-up, I found a treasure that I thought I'd lost. I found a letter that Baha'u'llah wrote upon his arrival in Istanbul. Juan translated it and put it up on H-Baha'i on 10.2.02. Given that I have Juan's permission to put his translations up on my sites, I thought I'd put up the translation here so that everyone could enjoy it. That is better than it being buried in the H-Baha'i archives. I'll also put it up on Baha'u'llah explore. I call the letter the 'snow animals' letter because, in it, Baha'u'llah refers to seeing snow animals for the first time. I love it. So here it is:

Source: Rosen, p. 126, no. 37:

Baha'u'llah, Istanbul, fall, 1863

He is the mighty, the everlasting.

It is well known that the wayfarers unto God, after passing the way stations of what is other than he, arrived at the renowned place known as Istanbul. So far, nothing has been seen from its inhabitants but conventional, officious formalities. What will come next? What decree will fate inscribe behind the veil? But, we saw many barren trees and much frozen snow. Every moment the heat dissipates and the cold increases. The salamander of fire has been heard of, which depends on fire for its existence, by the grace of the all-knowing, the all-wise. But a snow salamander has never been seen. Now, by the wonders of God's handiwork, many snow animals have been observed. After that, what will the white hand of divine power and the illumined hand of the all-praised bring forth?

All are held in his grasp, and depend on his will. No God is there but he, the mighty, the eternal. Nothing else has happened. That is, there are no discussions. After our consultations, details will be sent. All will be comfortable in their quarters until the time comes. That time is in the hands of God, the mighty, the beloved. We make mention of all of the friends, and counsel all to avoid neglecting the mention of God, nor should they allow their love of him to be veiled by the love of anything else. Peace be among those who follow the truth.

It is interesting to note here that Baha'u'llah seems not to know what his fate will be. According to Juan, by this time, the Ottomans had already decided that Baha'u'llah was to be exiled to Edirne. Apparently, they decided this at the same time that they decided to exile him from Baghdad. That is, the Ottomans intended all along to send Baha'u'llah to Edirne from Baghdad and not to Istanbul. Juan found this out from documents he found in the Ottoman archives. Juan states this here:

"Baha'u'llah was exiled to Baghdad in Ottoman Iraq in early 1853, after having been imprisoned on false charges of involvement in the Babi attempt on the shah's life... Baha'u'llah's growing popularity in the early 1860s caused many pilgrims from Iran to seek him out in Baghdad when they visited the shrines of the Imams in Najaf and Karbala. This development annoyed the Iranian government, which put pressure on the Ottomans to exile Baha'u'llah farther away from Iran.

The Ottomans acquiesced and decided to send him to Edirne from Baghdad, as is apparent from documents in the Ottoman archives, … and so his brief stay in Istanbul in fall of 1863 had been intended to be only a stop-over."

http://www.h-net.msu.edu/~bahai/trans/vol3/ashab2.htm

As Juan points out in his message to H-Baha'i, the wording in Baha'u'llah's letter suggests that he was unaware of the Ottoman's plan. That may well have been the case. I think there are other possibilities: that he did know, but did not reveal this and waited to see whether the decision would be carried out. There is such contradictory evidence relating to the issue of what Baha'u'llah knew about the future. I'm willing to accept that it's too complex to fathom.

Plot and character

I've started reading a book about how to write fiction. It's called "Writing. The Craft of Creative Fiction". I love the movies, you see, and desire to understand how movies are dreamed up and put together. I found this book in the public library; it was published in 1964, which would be considered old these days, but I like it because it's old. Some modern books about writing are so chatty and once-over-lightly they're unreadable. Or they tell you how to run your life, which always grates with me. But this one was written by a guy called Olaf Ruhen, who Steve tells me was born in Dunedin (where I live!), and he's thought hard about his craft and has shared some insightful ideas about it.
Chapter 2 of the book is called "Plotting" and discusses what a plot is and how one is developed. Olaf Ruhen describes methods that authors have used to come up with plots. For me, a key factor to come out of this discussion, and a point that Olaf emphasises, is that plot is actually a product of character. I hadn't thought of this before. The idea is that the main character will be a person of a certain personality (that is, a person with particular virtues or vices) who is submerged in a particular field in life (that is, particular circumstances such as time and place) and who is driven by a desire, ambition goal or similar. From these few things, a plot can be quite readily developed. For example, if the person is wicked and lusts after a maiden and lives in times when women were easy prey through money and manipulation, then you may have a plot where the main character carries out a plan to marry and thereby control a woman he desires, despite her revulsion towards him. In his discussion, Olaf gives this example:

"Let us say that he [the antagonist] moves from love to hate... He never does so in a single movement; even a chameleon needs periods of adjustment, and it is the orderly progress of this opposing character that outlines the plot of the novel and provides an ever-increasing conflict. Going from Love to Hate he passes these road-markers: Love. Disappointment. Annoyance. Irritation. Disillusionment. Indifference. Disgust. Anger. Hate. In that order." (p 11)

The more I thought about this idea of plot emerging out of character, the more I thought what an important idea it is. One of my favourite quotes from Baha'u'llah is from Surah of Blood: "Adorn yourself with my character". This is from paragraph 5 of the surah; the full sentence reads: "Adorn yourself with My character, in such wise that should anyone treat you unjustly you would take no heed of him, nor oppose him." If we adorn ourselves with Baha'u'llah's character, then the plot follows - we will not take any notice of someone who treats us unjustly and would not move to oppose that person. That's a plot in itself. In a similar way, the writings are full of ideas of how a particular plot would emerge from a person in various situations if they were adorned with Baha'u'llah's character.
But what's even more interesting about this is what it means for our concept of teaching the faith. I was pleased to find this idea about plot emerging from character because I thought it might give me, for the first time, a means of explaining what I think teaching is, and what Baha'u'llah intended by it. It is a very powerful idea, which sweeps away in a heart beat the need for door-knocking and other methods of questionable integrity.
The point is this: Baha'u'llah tells us repeatedly to be persons of good character. How do we respond? We think to ourselves: 'Well, I'll try my best to be a good person but, in the meantime, I'll carry out teaching activities, I'll attend meetings and do my bit for the portals. If I throw in some prayer and reading on top of all that, I feel sure that my character will be as it should be. How could it not be? I am doing all the right things, aren't I?' Based on my experience, this approach does not bring about transformation of character or end in effective teaching. It does succeed in generating a lot of activity and energy and, when you're in the thick of things, you sincerely feel like you're doing something very important. But lots of activity and energy isn't what matters - what matters is character. The Guardian stated this principle in plain terms:

"Not by the force of numbers, not by the mere exposition of a set of new and noble principles, not by an organized campaign of teaching - no matter how worldwide and elaborate in its character - not even by the staunchness of our faith or the exaltation of our enthusiasm, can we ultimately hope to vindicate in the eyes of a critical and sceptical age the supreme claim of the Abha Revelation. One thing and only one thing will unfailingly and alone secure the undoubted triumph of this sacred Cause, namely, the extent to which our own inner life and private character mirror forth in their manifold aspects the splendor of those eternal principles proclaimed by Baha'u'llah." (Shoghi Effendi: Baha'i Administration, p 66)

Why is it that character is so important? Because plot emerges from character. Our character will determine the choices we make, the people we attract, the circumstances we find ourselves in and the kind of relationships we build with others. If we adorn ourselves with Baha'u'llah's character, then the world will change around us. We are authors, just like those who write fiction. But we write the story of our lives and if we want the plot to include teaching the faith and influencing others, then we need to set up the ingredients of that future reality in our character. But if we set character aside and get involved in 'activity', thinking that that's what results in change, then we're wasting our time. No fundamental change will occur. Character and deeds are fundamental to this revelation. They may not have been so important in previous revelations, but there's no getting around them in this one:

"O son of my handmaid! Guidance hath ever been given by words, and now it is given by deeds. Every one must show forth deeds that are pure and holy, for words are the property of all alike, whereas such deeds as these belong only to Our loved ones. Strive then with heart and soul to distinguish yourselves by your deeds. In this wise We counsel you in this holy and resplendent tablet." (Persian Hidden Word 76)

There's an interesting passage in the fourth valley of the four, where Baha'u'llah states that a person can achieve a spiritual station where they will become like God: "O My Servant! Obey Me and I shall make thee like unto Myself. I say `Be,' and it is, and thou shalt say `Be,' and it shall be." (Baha'u'llah: Seven Valleys and Four Valleys, p 63) How can it be that a person can say 'Be!' and it will be? The answer is: through their character. It isn't about a person expressing or suppressing their will, thinking this or that outcome is in line with God's will; it's about the creative writing of reality through character.
What does it mean to adorn ourselves with Baha'u'llah's character? I think the essence of this idea is found in the following Hidden Word:

"O children of vainglory! For a fleeting sovereignty ye have abandoned My imperishable dominion, and have adorned yourselves with the gay livery of the world and made of it your boast. By My beauty! All will I gather beneath the one-colored covering of the dust and efface all these diverse colors save them that choose My own, and that is purging from every color." (Persian Hidden Word 74)

What's interesting here is the idea of "purging from every color". Again, this can be understood in terms of character and plot. Olaf Ruhen makes the following statement in his book on writing fiction: "There is an unbreakable bond to tie the pivotal character and the changing character together." (p 11) In other words, opposites are bound up in each other. If you have an enemy, you are tied to that enemy by your antagonism toward them. The bond is the mutual antagonism; any strong feeling towards someone is a bond that ties us to them, whether the feeling is negative or positive. And this bond is integral to the plot of our lives; our character is given over to an uncontrollable state of being and this dictates what turns our lives will take. The point about purging from every colour is becoming detached. If we work on our character so that we are not in any way affected by such feelings as love and hatred (as Baha'u'llah identifies them in the Iqan (para 213)), we become detached from them and this means they no longer determine our future. When we are free of these character traits, we become free in the real sense of the term, for we become free to plot our lives in the manner we choose. We are no longer written by our passions; instead, we control them and become creative authors of our lives.