Hosay Trinidad. Frank J. Korom
interpreted, the Karbala myth no longer served primarily as the ancestral invocation through which Shi‘i Iranians could define themselves in contradistinction to Sunni Arabs, but more important it became the revolutionary slogan through which the emerging movement of opposition to the shah was mobilized.”21 These two points—that is, ethnic and sectarian difference from Sunnis and oppositional ideology—are themes that reoccur historically both in South Asia and in the Caribbean, as the reader may note throughout this study.
While Muharram observances affect the entire Islamic community, albeit for different reasons, this widely publicized example amply demonstrates the powerful impact that the historical event has had on the collective psyche of Shi‘i Muslims. Because Muharram rituals can be expressed both as religious mourning and as willful acts of public agitation, they have often been vehicles for political action and social mobilization. To return again to Khomeini’s pronouncements, he urged his country-men to make “Islam known to the people, then … create something akin to ‘Ashura.” He also said that protestors should still gather during Muharram to beat their breasts, but they should also “create out of it a wave of protest against the state of the government.”22 Moreover, after the Iraqi invasion of Iran in the fall of 1980, the theme of ‘āshūrā’ was again invoked to mobilize people for the war efforts. Many of the Iranian combatants on the front lines in the war had the following inscriptions written on their helmets and headbands: “The epic-makers of ‘āshūrā’” or “‘āshūrā’ is the epic of faith, the epic of blood.”23 The historical epic of the rite’s development and its emotive power to express sociopolitical discontent is a recurring theme in this book.24
The rituals of lamentation, so important to Shi‘i Islam, are held mainly during the month of Muharram and the following month of Safar. They are observed especially on ‘āshūrā’, the day of Husayn’s martyrdom, and on the twentieth of Safar, called arba‘i̅n, the fortieth day after Husayn’s death, when remembrances of a departed loved one are normatively held throughout the world by Muslims of all persuasions. These quintessential days, with their annual periodicity, punctuate the Karbala paradigm and serve constantly to remind the Shi‘ah of their larger purpose in the cosmic picture. Before moving on to discuss the rituals at greater length in the next chapter, it is important to establish the logical and politicotheological significance of the Karbala paradigm through a brief recounting of the historical events leading up to Husayn’s demise. I want to underscore the enduring narrative quality of the rite because Husayn’s exemplary and paramount role in the Shi‘i worldview serves as the master narrative that orders the lives of adherents and serves as a model for social and religious action. For this reason, I must delve into the events that are so vividly recalled each year during Muharram.
The Prehistory and History of Muharram
Although ‘āshūrā’, the tenth day of Muharram, was prior to the birth of Islam already a sacred day of fasting for Hebrews as Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), the day takes on a new significance in the Islamic context.25 Even before the tragedy at Karbala, Muslims observed ‘āshūrā’ as a day of fasting during Muhammad’s period in Medina.26 But in terms of eschatology, the day takes on special cosmological and historical significance for the global Shi‘i community, especially the Twelver branch of Shi‘ism, because it was on this day that Husayn was killed for political reasons at Karbala.27
After Muhammad’s death in midsummer of the year 11 A.H./632 C.E., a vacuum was created in the preexisting religiopolitical structure of the expanding body of believers in Medina because the Prophet never clearly specified who was to succeed him as caliph (khali̅fah), according to Sunni Muslims. The Shi‘ah, however, claim that Muhammad ordered his son-in-law Ali to be his successor by appointment and testament. At any rate, an assembly of the most powerful men in Medina gathered together on the day that Muhammad died to decide who was to become the first khali̅fah of Islam. Following a short deliberation, the council elected Abu Bakr, a close companion of the Prophet, to rule the Islamic world and guide the community of believers. Shi‘i Muslims, of course, dispute this decision, arguing that the caliphate should be rooted within the House of the Prophet (ahl al-bayt). They thus view Ali, husband of Muhammad’s last surviving daughter Fatimah, to be the rightful heir to the Prophet’s position as spiritual and political leader. The Shi‘ah believe the Medina decision to elect Abu Bakr to be spurious because they argue that it was a divergence from a divinely mandated tradition dating from the beginning of time. It is said that Ali himself did not acknowledge Abu Bakr as khali̅fah until after the death of Fatimah,28 who only lived a short while after the death of her father—six months, seventy-five days, or forty days according to various traditions.29 Even though Abu Bakr attempted to bring the Alids, those people who remained faithful to the House of the Prophet, into the fold, apostasy filled the empire. Popular opinion often claims that the faction that led to the birth of the Shi‘i branch of Islam originated at this time.
Ali did, however, become caliph in 35 A.H./656 C.E., twenty-four years after Muhammad’s death.30 But there still remained factions in the growing Islamic Empire. Because the election of Ali took place in Medina, his support was strong there. Meccans, however, were not as sympathetic toward him. This relationship was further strained when Ali transferred his seat of power from Medina to Kufah in Iraq. Ali inadvertently isolated himself from the original home of Islam as a result of this move.
Syria also did not pledge allegiance (bay‘at) to Ali; it refused to recognize him as caliph and remained loyal to the Umayyads. Ali’s attempts to place his own governors in office in Syria during the year of his election backfired, for Syrians were staunch supporters of Muawiyah, who had ruled Syria before Ali was elected to the caliphate. This opposition caused severe problems for Ali’s consolidation of power and threatened to undermine the unity of Islam. The conflict between the Umayyads under Muawiyah in Damascus and the House of the Prophet under Ali in Kufah ultimately led to a confrontation at Siffin in Iraq. The battle indecisively ended in a stalemate, and both parties returned to their respective seats with nothing more than uncertain compromises. The schism between Syria and Iraq intensified the following year when Egypt allied itself with Syria, leaving Ali’s power considerably reduced, and his strength as a leader waned as a result. These reasons, along with many other sociopolitical factors and insurgence by the rebel Kharijites, a radical theocratic separatist group, led to a dual caliphate in 37 A.H./658 C.E. Muawiyah was recognized as caliph in Syria and Egypt, while Ali remained in charge at Kufah. Ali’s remaining rule was fraught with difficulties. He was never able to regain the confidence of many who lost faith in him after Siffin, and the Kharijite insurgencies also added to the precariousness of his rule. Their rebellious attitude led to Ali’s assassination at Kufah during Friday prayers by a Kharijite named Ibn Muljam in 40 A.H./661 C.E.31 Theoretically, Muawiyah was left as the sole caliph. The fact that the historical record suggests that Ali was a weak ruler does not hinder Shi‘i interpretation of his infallibility, a trait believed to be shared by all imāms
The question of a successor to Ali naturally became a major concern in Kufah, but the answer was ambiguous at best. It is claimed that when he was asked on his deathbed if his eldest son, Hasan, should become caliph by hereditary succession, Ali stated: “I do not command it, neither do I forbid. See ye to it.”32 Hasan thus succeeded his father in 40 A.H./661 C.E. Since Hasan was never officially elected at Medina, his web of influence did not extend far beyond Kufah. He was a weak ruler who kept a fairly low profile. Realizing Hasan’s military passivity, Muawiyah prepared to attack Kufah, hoping to consolidate his power. His plan was an attempt to make the empire one political entity again. Rather than confront Muawiyah in battle, Hasan negotiated with the Umayyads and abdicated that same year. For a modest pension, Hasan agreed to move his retinue back to Medina, where he lived out the remaining years of his life comfortably.33 At long last, Muawiyah was able to enter Kufah triumphantly. Having finally “tamed” the Eastern Provinces, he returned to the empire’s sole capital, Damascus, to rule in the manner of an Arab shaykh—quiet but stern. Muawiyah reigned for the next twenty years as the undisputed caliph of Islam, even though conflicts with the Kharijites and Alids did arise from time to time.
So far, we have