Because of the observance’s timeless quality, the Shi‘ah are able to measure continuously their own actions against the paradigmatic ones of Husayn. This is especially true whenever the community of believers regards itself as oppressed, a key theme we will find not only in Iran but in India and Trinidad as well. During the Iranian Islamic Revolution (1978–79), the slogans publicly chanted, painted on walls, or inscribed on headbands were in general variants of the following: “Every day is ‘āshūrā’; every place is Karbala; every month is Muharram.”13 Similar slogans were propagated in the media and displayed on posters during Iran’s protracted war against Iraq (1980–88). Hans Kippenberg goes so far as to argue that “the traditional mourning rites and especially the Muharram-processions came to be powerful political manifestations against the Shah regime.”14 He further argues that people who died fighting against the Shah (and also later against Iraq) were considered martyrs similar to those in Husayn’s camp who fell at Karbala in the seventh century. Everyday action thus takes on a ritual and performative dimension in the sense that participants in political street protests and processions conceive of their acts as part of a passion play (ta‘zi̅yeh) linking them to the paradigmatic acts of the Karbala martyrs. The Iranian war maneuvers against Iraq in the Persian Gulf exemplify how the battle of Karbala still influences Iranians today. The military offensives were labeled Karbala-1, Karbala-2, and so forth, and the combined land and sea operations of August 1987 appropriately were termed “operation martyrdom.”15
Such symbols, metaphors, and paradigms are transnational, ideologically connecting Shi‘i adherents living in different parts of a loosely knit global community of worshippers stretching from Iran to Indonesia. Thus, much of what I have said so far is universally applicable to the observances throughout the world. But if we go beyond generalizations, we find that the event is a complicated and polysemic affair. In actuality, the student of the ritual complex in context is confronted with a plethora of regional and local symbols; hence we find a variety of observances unique to given locales.16 We shall see that realizing subjective apprehension and identification with Husayn’s passion is catalyzed through new and vital forms of practice in Iran, India, and Trinidad, even while remaining faithful to the Karbala paradigm.
Reenactments of Husayn’s tragic death have been performed for centuries in what is today southern Iraq, the place of the martyr’s violent death. They eventually extended far beyond their points of origin and moved via Iran, where they received official state sanction in the sixteenth century under the Safavids, to the Indian subcontinent and from there to the Caribbean basin. Even today, more than 1,300 years after Husayn’s death, the rituals devoted to his sacrifice have not lost their potency. On the contrary, they seem to have become even more powerful. In some countries, the power of rituals performed during the month of Muharram has been channeled into the political arena and has been used as a psychological mechanism for mobilizing the masses against injustice and oppression. In other places, they provide more subtle “hidden transcripts,” to invoke James Scott’s term, that serve as methods of resistance to defy the hegemonic forces of the majority group.17 Moreover, the rituals have often been used to subvert the authority of the ruling class, even if only symbolically at times.
As a general rule, the farther the rituals moved from their place of origin, the greater the influence of other cultures, religions, and customs on them became. Such changes may be regarded as the “declensions” of the paradigm. This notwithstanding, there are also remarkable continuities that we find in greatly separated areas of the world. Continuities as well as changes in ritual practice will be pointed out in due course as my study unfolds. For the moment, one example should suffice to make this point clear. Although the lament for the death of Husayn in the form of public self-mortification by ritual participants is prevalent in Iran, Iraq, and India, this aspect is not particularly visible at the two extreme ends of the ritual spectrum. In Trinidad and Indonesia, for instance, other forms of experiential remembering have replaced bodily punishment and pain. Nevertheless, the sacred period surrounding Husayn’s annual death observance is still a ritual highly charged with unusual emotions in the Caribbean rim. Irrespective of the geopolitical arena in which the ritual complex takes shape, Husayn remains a spiritual and political redeemer, as well as a role model for participants.
Iran, more than any other country, has been influential in the expansion, diversification, and diffusion of Husayn’s rituals into other geographical areas, especially in medieval times. Even earlier, when Persians began converting to Islam from the eighth century onward, strong pro-Shi‘i sentiments were noticeable in the country. A sympathetic attitude toward the Shi‘ah allowed the region to become a haven for many descendants of the Shi‘i imāms who took refuge in the region to escape persecution by the Sunni majorities in other countries. It was not, however, until the sixteenth century—when they received royal patronage—that we observe the phenomenal growth of the rituals for Husayn. This aided, in turn, the spread of Shi‘i doctrines across the Iranian plateau.
As noted above, the Muharram processions are especially powerful devices for conveying sociopolitical information and opinions, as they did during the massive demonstrations in Tehran and other Iranian cities during the 1978–79 revolutionary upheavals. The mixing of mourning slogans with political ones has been an old Muharram tradition, which allowed the designers of the revolution to draw upon the paradigm and present their claims in accordance with the Shi‘i ritual calendar. Ayatollah Khomeini’s revolution itself started on the day of ‘āshūrā’ (June 3) in 1963 when he delivered a speech at the Fayziya Madrasa in the holy city of Qom. The speech, which followed an earlier one delivered on the occasion of the fortieth-day commemoration on April 3, 1963, of Iranian political martyrs who were killed by government troops for insurrection at the site, resulted in his exile. In his speech he boldly criticized the internal and external policies of the Shah and his government.18 More than a decade later, on November 23, a week before the start of Muharram in 1978, Khomeini issued a declaration called “Muharram: The Triumph of Blood over the Sword” in order to bolster the claims of the revolution. The declaration was taped at his exile headquarters in Neauphle-le-Château, France, and distributed in Iran through an intricate network of mosques. The opening paragraph of the declaration is poignant and worth quoting at length:
With the approach of Muharram, we are about to begin the month of epic heroism and self sacrifice—the month in which blood triumphed over the sword, the month in which truth condemned falsehood for all eternity and branded the mark of disgrace upon the forehead of all oppressors and satanic governments; the month that has taught successive generations throughout history the path of victory over the bayonet; the month that proves the superpowers may be defeated by the word of truth; the month in which the leader of Muslims taught us how to struggle against all tyrants of history, showed us how the clenched fists of those who seek freedom, desire independence, and proclaim the truth may triumph over tanks, machine guns, and the armies of Satan, how the word of truth may obliterate falsehood.19
Less than two months after the Ayatollah’s speech, the Shah left Iran with a box of Iranian soil in his hand on January 16, 1979, enabling Khomeini to return to his homeland after living in exile for fourteen years.
The Shah’s abdication serves as a compelling example of the Karbala paradigm’s power to organize collective social experiences. His departure from Iran also illustrates the persuasively effective use of the Karbala paradigm as an ideological tool for rallying the masses against tyranny and oppression. As Bruce Lincoln summarizes, “this myth was thus a useful instrument, one through which Iranian national identity could be continuously reconstructed along the same traditional pattern. Yet … the embattled Iranian ‘ulama gave a radical new twist to the story as they identified the shah … with the quasi-demonic assassin and usurper Yazid.”20 Yazid becomes the arch-villain of the narrative, standing for any oppressive and unjust ruling force. By equating the Shah with the prototypical villain, Iranian clerics were able to mobilize a successful