A Baha’i temple in Santiago. Image: Thais Cordeiro

Smuggling Baha’i

Baltimore, MD | USA

There are many approaches to funerary burial in Iran, but throughout the  country, every grave gets marked with a tombstone. That stone might mark  a Muslim grave, where cinder blocks cover the grave’s dirt walls. Or it might  rest on the grave of a non-Muslim, such as a Christian or a Baha’i. In that case, the body of the deceased would lie inside a coffin.

The Iranian government oversees the nature of the tombstone inscriptions in each of Iran’s cemeteries. Any phrase from the Koran is permitted. In addition, the government has granted permission for the introduction of any phrase that demonstrates a respect for and acknowledgement of God’s existence.

The designation of Baha’i and Muslim cemeteries existed before 1979. Yet the ban on engraved phrases that had come from Baha’i texts came into existence following the 1979 Revolution. Furthermore, the new government did not hesitate to eradicate the graves of certain Baha’is, especially those with a tombstone that contained a forbidden word or phrase.

How does the government keep track of the marking on so many tombstones? It relies on reports from the public and from government authorities. Such authorities make a point of attending the funerals of any relatives of a wanted criminal.

Now, those same authorities do not carry around a copy of the Koran, or any other documents with statements from the prophet Mohammed. Still, each of them has the ability to note any reference to a religious leader that has failed to view Mohammed as “the seal of the prophets.” Naturally, each of them also has the ability to recognize any phrase that hints at rejection of God’s existence.

The Iranian government failed to consider the possible existence of a non Muslim phrase that made no reference to an alternative prophet, while at the same time supporting a belief in the existence of God. By the same token, the government has not established any clear guidelines for determining the background of the deceased that get buried in Muslim cemeteries.

The law made no provision for the death of someone that had one Muslim parent and one that was not a Muslim. In the absence of such guidelines, the Muslim relatives of a deceased non Muslim possess the ability to arrange for their loved one to get buried in a Muslim cemetery. In 1977, two years before the revolutionary changes that followed the Shah’s departure, one group of Muslim relatives chose to take advantage of the loophole in the law.

No one in that small group of relatives had anticipated the untimely death of their nephew, the oldest son of a younger sister. He had died in a car accident. His aunts and uncles had always imagined that he would get buried in a Baha’i cemetery. After all, their sister had married into the Baha’i Faith.

Once all the young man’s relatives had heard about the accident, two groups, one that contained only Baha’i relatives, and one that contained only Muslim relatives, sought to direct the procedures associated with the accident victim’s burial. The Muslim relatives wanted to identify with the deceased gentleman, because he had purchased some valuable property. Upon his death, ownership of the property would get passed to his father. Yet the father died soon after his son got killed in the car accident.

That meant that the young man’s property came into the possession of his mother. As a result, her relatives took an interest in finding a way to get hold of the land that she had inherited.

One group notified the driver of an ambulance that belonged to the local Baha’i community. A second group got in touch with the Muslim driver of a different ambulance. The Muslim driver managed to reach the hospital before the ambulance requested by the local Baha’is. By the time his ambulance arrived, the young man was dead. The Muslim driver then acquired the job of taking the body from the hospital to the cemetery. In other words, the son of a non-Muslim couple got taken to a Muslim cemetery.

During the following 26 years, the deceased’s younger brother bemoaned the fact that he could not plan to have his own grave in the cemetery that held his brother’s body. He had moved to the United States in 1978. Even from that great distance, he felt that he should do his best to provide his sibling with what he viewed as a more fitting gravesite.

Iranians make a practice of keeping the tombstone of a loved one free of caked-on dirt. In order to carry out that practice, the living relatives must shoulder the responsibility of using rose water to clean their loved one’s tombstone. Though unable to take on this responsibility while living in the United States, the younger brother traveled to Iran to tend to his brother’s grave however he could.

During the first visit, as he washed dirt off the tombstone with rose water, he made an important observation: one of the few lights in the cemetery could direct its beams at the newly cleaned tombstone. He imagined that light shining on an engraving more fitting to his brother’s life, and was filled with a desire to purchase a new tombstone.

He recalled one particular phrase that he had long considered perfect for a burial inscription. Baha’u’llah, the prophet-founder of the Baha’i Faith, had chanted that same phrase during his stay in the Siyyah Chal, a Persian prison. The younger brother wrote out the phrase that he longed to see on his brother’s tombstone, and took that paper to an engraver’s stall in the local market.

When approached by the younger brother, the engraver expressed an eagerness to chisel the requested words onto a stone of his choice. The engraver must have pondered this question: What phrase could better express the sentiments of a God-fearing individual that has ended his or her time on earth? The engraver created a tombstone that held this message: We all come from God, and unto Him shall we return.

No other tombstone in the Muslim cemetery carried that meaningful message. Yet, no one stopped to investigate its origin. Instead, dozens of families began to think about putting the same phrase on the tombstones of their own loved ones.

So, a phrase that held a connection to the Baha’i Faith ended up being admired and copied by Muslims. Its enduring popularity reveals several ways that weaknesses in the government’s oppressive grave inscription policy can be exploited.

First, the government had forbidden the display of any message that held an obvious connection to one of the recognized phrases in Baha’i literature. Yet that same ruling had failed to consider phrases that had only been preserved through the Baha’i oral tradition, familiar to all members, but unrecorded in their texts.

Second, the government had seen no reason to deny the request of Muslim relatives who wanted a niece, nephew, or cousin buried in a Muslim cemetery, even if the deceased’s mother or father had proclaimed adherence to Baha’i teachings. Furthermore, those charged with installing the lighting fixtures in cemeteries never gave thought to the possible lighting of some phrase that held a questionable link to Muslim scriptures or Muslim teachings.

Every night, the government’s lights shine unknowingly on a cemetery full of forbidden writing. More than one tombstone in the referenced cemetery carries the phrase that does possess such a questionable link. Moreover, that same phrase gets lighted every night, when one of the government’s fixtures directs its light beams on the gravestone that first displayed the passage that has caught the attention of so many Muslims.

~ Sue Chehrenegar

Author

  • Sue Hershner began writing about Iran and the Baha'i Faith while in college. She has served as the editor for newsletters in several different Baha'i communities. She began composing material for the Internet in 2004. Sue married and became Sue Chehrenegar in 1980. She has 2 sons and 5 grandchildren.

    View all posts

Strange Matters is a cooperative magazine of new and unconventional thinking in economics, politics, and culture.