Bahai Story Library
The Maiden of Zanján: Zaynab
“A single village maiden, in a man's garments, stood in the front of the battle and would not be turned back.”
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Bahai Story Library
“A single village maiden, in a man's garments, stood in the front of the battle and would not be turned back.”
*A retelling based on **The Dawn-Breakers**, Nabíl's narrative of the early days of the Faith. The narrative is retold in our own words; short phrases in quotation marks are titles or words preserved in that history.*
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Of all the upheavals that fell upon the early believers in the Báb's lifetime, few were longer or more terrible than the siege of Zanján.
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There the great divine known as Ḥujjat had taught the new Faith with such power that a large part of the city had embraced it; and when the authorities moved to crush the community, the believers — men, women, and children together — withdrew into a quarter of the town and a fortress, and held out for months against the trained regiments and the cannon of the empire.
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Nabíl, who gathered the testimony of survivors, set down the long agony of that defence in detail: the hunger, the bombardment, the steady falling of the defenders, and the unbreakable spirit that held the rest together long after the world expected them to surrender.
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Into the heart of that account Nabíl places one of the most arresting figures in the whole history of the Faith's heroic age — and she was no scholar, no noble, no famous teacher. She was a village girl. Her name was Zaynab. She had no rank and no learning; she belonged, by every reckoning of her society, to the most overlooked class of people there was: a peasant, and a woman, in a country and an age that allowed women no part whatever in the affairs of war and gave the poor no voice at all.
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When the siege closed in and the believers took up the defence of their quarter, Zaynab found that she could not bear to remain among those who waited and tended and mourned while her companions were cut down one by one. The histories tell that the sight of the suffering kindled in her a longing to share the danger directly — to stand where the men stood, in the front of the fighting.
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But she lived in a world that would never have permitted it. A young woman did not take up arms; the very idea would have been thought scandalous, even by the people she wished to defend.
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So Zaynab did a daring thing. She put off the garments of a woman and put on the garments of a man. She gathered up a sword and a gun. And — this is the detail that Nabíl preserves, and it matters — she did not simply rush out on her own. She went to Ḥujjat, the leader of the defence, and asked his leave.
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She submitted her courage to the order of the community; she sought permission before she acted. Her boldness was not the wildness of someone careless of authority or hungry for notice. It was a disciplined thing, offered up and placed under direction.
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Ḥujjat granted her wish, and Zaynab went out to fight. And what followed astonished everyone who saw it. This girl — untrained, unschooled in war, slight against the seasoned soldiers of the army — stood in the most exposed and dangerous positions of the battle and held them. She threw herself into the defence with an ardour and a fearlessness that put heart into the men beside her and dismay into the enemy before her.
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Day after day she was in the thick of the fighting, raising the cry of the Cause, rallying the defenders, refusing the shelter that her companions, alarmed for her, kept urging upon her. For a number of days the peasant girl in a man's coat was among the bravest of all the brave souls who held that doomed quarter, and the army that ringed Zanján with cannon could not make her flinch.
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The chronicle does not pretend that her courage altered the arithmetic of the siege. Zanján fell, in the end, as Ṭabarsí had fallen and Nayríz had fallen — overwhelmed by numbers, ground down by months of bombardment, betrayed at the last. Zaynab herself was killed in the fighting, one of the great host of the faithful who laid down their lives there. The empire counted another victory; the records of the powerful noted another rebellion put down.
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But Nabíl, telling the story, was not interested in the empire's arithmetic. He set Zaynab's name into the imperishable record of the Faith precisely because of what her courage proved about where might really lives.
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For consider what she defied. She defied an army — the organized, armed, almost limitless power of a state that had decided to destroy her people. That alone would be courage enough. But she defied something else as well, something in some ways harder: the settled expectation of her entire world about what a woman, and a peasant woman at that, could be and could do.
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Nothing in her upbringing, her station, or her society had prepared her to take up a sword and stand in the front of a battle. She had no example to follow, no permission from custom, no claim of rank to make it seem natural. She had only the conviction that the Cause she loved was worth her life, and the refusal to let her sex or her station keep her from offering it. She broke through both walls at once.
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This is why her story belongs to the Feast of ʻIzzat, the Feast of Might. The might that the Faith celebrates is never the might of the strong over the weak — that kind of might filled the world already and was, in Zanján, exactly the force arrayed against the believers. The might the Feast honours is the other thing entirely: the power that rises up in a soul who, by every worldly measure, has no power at all.
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A village girl with no learning and no standing, in an age that counted her among the least of the least, became one of the mightiest figures of her generation — not by acquiring the world's kind of strength, but by being so filled with faith that the world's strength could not move her.
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The Báb had come, in part, to overturn exactly the assumptions that would have kept Zaynab in her place.
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His Dispensation lifted up the poor and gave a new station to women, and within a few short years it had produced both the learned and luminous Ṭáhirih, who proclaimed the dawn of a new age, and this unlettered peasant girl of Zanján, who proved with her own life that the courage the new Day called forth was not the property of the great alone. The two women could hardly have been more different in learning or in rank.
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They were one in this: that each, in her own way, refused the limits her world had set, and answered a power that seemed irresistible with a might that came from somewhere the power could not reach.
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The army took the quarter. The girl who had stood in its defence is remembered with honour wherever the story of those days is told, while the names of the officers who broke the siege have faded. That, in the end, is what ʻIzzat means.
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*This is a retelling. For the fuller account, see **The Dawn-Breakers**, Nabíl's narrative of the early days of the Faith.*
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Source
by Nabíl-i-A'ẓam · 1932 · Bahá'í Publishing Trust
Read the original at www.bahai.org/library/other-literature/historical/dawn-break