Hypatia and Tahireh, an English paper
Posted: Mon Aug 30, 2010 8:20 am
The murders of Hypatia and Tahirih demonstrate two similar occasions when the fanaticism of religious madmen deprived the world of the greatest women of their times. In “The Secret Teachings of all ages,” Manly P. Hall describes the murder of one of the most esteemed women of the ancient world, Hypatia. Such an episode, which took place over fifteen hundred years ago, is not without parallels in modern History. Like the lamentable butchery of that illuminated pagan scholar, the story of Tahirih, as told in “Nabil’s Narrative,” haunts those among us who cherish the vision of great women. “Nabil’s Narrative,” the lifetime work of the devoted Iranian scholar, Muhammad-i-Zayandi Nabil-i-Azam, details one of the most illustrious stories in the annals of feminism.
The archetype of Tahirih’s legend, Hypatia held the chair of the Neo-platonic school of philosophy in fifth century Alexandria, one of the most fertile scholarly fields of all time. Hypatia’s father Theon the mathematician had held this position prior to Hypatia. Her teachings, now lost by tragic the sacking of Alexandria’s library of antiquity, won her audiences who sought out her lectures from far off lands.
Hypatia’s credentials were the best a woman could have in the ancient world. Tahirih, on the other hand, held no official position. Her reputation was won on the remarkably defiant stance she took as a woman and her amazing erudition. Nabil lauds Tahirih’s influence and prestige among the religious authorities of her time, and documents the marvel of her eventual oppression, and the tireless rebellion she shouldered as the wheels of the world slowly ground her away.
Tahirih’s expertise was entirely over matters of Islamic doctrine. What won her the stature of a heroine was not this amazingly authoritative and exhaustive store of religious knowledge, but her unequivocating demands for the rights of women.
The stature of women in Hypatia’s time is not commented on by Hall, but it appears not to have been the pivotal issue of her own lifetime. Hypatia’s expertise could perhaps be called occult—she was, according to Hall, a disciple of the Magician Plutarch—but it could not be characterized as religious. Her lost scholarly works included commentaries on Diophantus’ “Arithmetic,” Ptolemy’s Astronomical cannon, and the “Conics” of Apollonius of Perga. This is a decidedly secular body of knowledge, but like Tahirih, Hypatia suffered persecution and murder at the hands of fanatical religious thugs under the onus of heresy.
Both women were renowned for great physical beauty, and commanded considerable respect in their time. Hypatia was frequently consulted by city magistrates, according to Hall. Synesius, the Bishop of Ptolenmais, was a devoted friend for whom she built scientific and navigational apparatus. Tahirih is said to have silenced the Shiite, Sunni, Christian, and Jewish authorities with the force of her arguments when they attempted to get her to admit what they thought were her errors. In Hammadan, learned Ulmas (Islamic clergy) called from their pulpits for worshippers to seek her aid in unraveling the mysteries of the Quoran.
More subtle similarities are in order, as well, just to illustrate how both of these remarkable women were cut from the same cloth. Tahirih was known as a poetess of great power— and all Persian mystic poetry of the period was an expression of Sufism. The mysticism of the Sufis is built directly on the philosophical paradigms introduced to the ancient world by Plotinus, the founding philosopher of neo-platonism. Surely both of these women came from the same place, philosophically.
Tahirih’s beliefs were radical. Nabil, introduces us to Tahirih through her devotion to the Shaykhi sect of Islam, an Adventist cult that appeared in early nineteenth century Iran and later transformed into the independent religion of Babism. Nabil explains how she was instrumental in transforming early Babism from a fledgling breakaway religion, into a bona fide independent faith that departed completely and utterly from Islam. She did so at the Babi conference of Badasht when she appeared during a staged conflict between traditional Shaykhi sectarians and Babi revolutionaries with no chador (veil) covering her face. From that point on, Babism was inseparably linked with feminism, and the equality of men and women became a fundamental pillar of that young, modern faith. It was also from that point on that Tahirih suffered a series of house confinements and banishments from her male kinsmen.
Hypatia also had a pivotal conflict with the early Christian church, according to Hall. Hall asserts that Hypatia disliked the cultish mysticism behind the doctrines that had begun to become entrenched in Christianity. She was said to prove irrefutably that these mysteries were pagan in nature. Hall says that Hypatia “eclipsed in argument and public esteem every proponent of the Christian Doctrines in northern Egypt.” This incensed Cyril, Bishop of Alexandria, who authored the doctrine of the holy trinity and introduced that concept into the Christian church. Here we see that both women, ultimately influenced by the teachings of Plotinus (whose philosophy went on to influence the eminent author of Christian doctrine, Saint Augustine as well as others in the litany of Christian founders) proposed radical amendments to the religious tenants contemporary to their places in world history.
The answer to both revolutions was death. Although he constantly attempted to distance himself from Hypatia’s ultimate murder, Cyril’s rhetoric against her incited the monks of the Nitrian desert to action and he did not use his authority to stop them when they mobbed this remarkable woman and slaughtered her. The monks, led by “an illiterate savage” named Peter the Reader stopped her on her way home, dragged her from her own chariot, stripped her naked, beat her with clubs, and dragged her into the Caesarian church, where they scraped the flesh from her bones with oyster shells and incinerated her remains at a place called Cindron.
Her murder took her by surprise and took the form of a single, savage event. Contrary to this violent act, Tahirih’s execution was the result of incremental censure, first by fanatical Ulmas and her incensed kinsmen who confined her to house arrest everywhere she traveled, and eventually by minor civil authorities who, in nineteenth century Iran had the authority to issue death warrants and frequently did so at the behest of power seeking Ulmas. Tahirih knew she was to be martyred long before the event happened. In her time she witnessed the beginning of a pogrom against the Babi faith that would ultimately claim twenty thousand innocent lives, most in unspeakably inhumane, torturous ways.
The men who killed Hypatia were a hysterical mob, incensed to a level of barbarity that reverberated throughout history as a loathsome, shocking act. Tahirih was dispassionately killed by guards and other minor civil authorities who viewed their duty to execute her as a distraction to the drinking and debauchery that occupied them when she was summoned before them. At Tahirih’s request, she was taken before her executioners in the raiment of a bride, and asked to be strangled with her own white scarf, asking that her body be thrown into a pit and covered with stones and earth. The debauched guards might have disregarded this request, but Tahirih had asked the son of a friend to accompany her, so that the guards would be compelled to preserve some level of decorum.
Hypatia was not known to utter any last words. Tahirih is widely quoted for hers: “You may kill me when you wish, but you will never stop the emancipation of women.”
The archetype of Tahirih’s legend, Hypatia held the chair of the Neo-platonic school of philosophy in fifth century Alexandria, one of the most fertile scholarly fields of all time. Hypatia’s father Theon the mathematician had held this position prior to Hypatia. Her teachings, now lost by tragic the sacking of Alexandria’s library of antiquity, won her audiences who sought out her lectures from far off lands.
Hypatia’s credentials were the best a woman could have in the ancient world. Tahirih, on the other hand, held no official position. Her reputation was won on the remarkably defiant stance she took as a woman and her amazing erudition. Nabil lauds Tahirih’s influence and prestige among the religious authorities of her time, and documents the marvel of her eventual oppression, and the tireless rebellion she shouldered as the wheels of the world slowly ground her away.
Tahirih’s expertise was entirely over matters of Islamic doctrine. What won her the stature of a heroine was not this amazingly authoritative and exhaustive store of religious knowledge, but her unequivocating demands for the rights of women.
The stature of women in Hypatia’s time is not commented on by Hall, but it appears not to have been the pivotal issue of her own lifetime. Hypatia’s expertise could perhaps be called occult—she was, according to Hall, a disciple of the Magician Plutarch—but it could not be characterized as religious. Her lost scholarly works included commentaries on Diophantus’ “Arithmetic,” Ptolemy’s Astronomical cannon, and the “Conics” of Apollonius of Perga. This is a decidedly secular body of knowledge, but like Tahirih, Hypatia suffered persecution and murder at the hands of fanatical religious thugs under the onus of heresy.
Both women were renowned for great physical beauty, and commanded considerable respect in their time. Hypatia was frequently consulted by city magistrates, according to Hall. Synesius, the Bishop of Ptolenmais, was a devoted friend for whom she built scientific and navigational apparatus. Tahirih is said to have silenced the Shiite, Sunni, Christian, and Jewish authorities with the force of her arguments when they attempted to get her to admit what they thought were her errors. In Hammadan, learned Ulmas (Islamic clergy) called from their pulpits for worshippers to seek her aid in unraveling the mysteries of the Quoran.
More subtle similarities are in order, as well, just to illustrate how both of these remarkable women were cut from the same cloth. Tahirih was known as a poetess of great power— and all Persian mystic poetry of the period was an expression of Sufism. The mysticism of the Sufis is built directly on the philosophical paradigms introduced to the ancient world by Plotinus, the founding philosopher of neo-platonism. Surely both of these women came from the same place, philosophically.
Tahirih’s beliefs were radical. Nabil, introduces us to Tahirih through her devotion to the Shaykhi sect of Islam, an Adventist cult that appeared in early nineteenth century Iran and later transformed into the independent religion of Babism. Nabil explains how she was instrumental in transforming early Babism from a fledgling breakaway religion, into a bona fide independent faith that departed completely and utterly from Islam. She did so at the Babi conference of Badasht when she appeared during a staged conflict between traditional Shaykhi sectarians and Babi revolutionaries with no chador (veil) covering her face. From that point on, Babism was inseparably linked with feminism, and the equality of men and women became a fundamental pillar of that young, modern faith. It was also from that point on that Tahirih suffered a series of house confinements and banishments from her male kinsmen.
Hypatia also had a pivotal conflict with the early Christian church, according to Hall. Hall asserts that Hypatia disliked the cultish mysticism behind the doctrines that had begun to become entrenched in Christianity. She was said to prove irrefutably that these mysteries were pagan in nature. Hall says that Hypatia “eclipsed in argument and public esteem every proponent of the Christian Doctrines in northern Egypt.” This incensed Cyril, Bishop of Alexandria, who authored the doctrine of the holy trinity and introduced that concept into the Christian church. Here we see that both women, ultimately influenced by the teachings of Plotinus (whose philosophy went on to influence the eminent author of Christian doctrine, Saint Augustine as well as others in the litany of Christian founders) proposed radical amendments to the religious tenants contemporary to their places in world history.
The answer to both revolutions was death. Although he constantly attempted to distance himself from Hypatia’s ultimate murder, Cyril’s rhetoric against her incited the monks of the Nitrian desert to action and he did not use his authority to stop them when they mobbed this remarkable woman and slaughtered her. The monks, led by “an illiterate savage” named Peter the Reader stopped her on her way home, dragged her from her own chariot, stripped her naked, beat her with clubs, and dragged her into the Caesarian church, where they scraped the flesh from her bones with oyster shells and incinerated her remains at a place called Cindron.
Her murder took her by surprise and took the form of a single, savage event. Contrary to this violent act, Tahirih’s execution was the result of incremental censure, first by fanatical Ulmas and her incensed kinsmen who confined her to house arrest everywhere she traveled, and eventually by minor civil authorities who, in nineteenth century Iran had the authority to issue death warrants and frequently did so at the behest of power seeking Ulmas. Tahirih knew she was to be martyred long before the event happened. In her time she witnessed the beginning of a pogrom against the Babi faith that would ultimately claim twenty thousand innocent lives, most in unspeakably inhumane, torturous ways.
The men who killed Hypatia were a hysterical mob, incensed to a level of barbarity that reverberated throughout history as a loathsome, shocking act. Tahirih was dispassionately killed by guards and other minor civil authorities who viewed their duty to execute her as a distraction to the drinking and debauchery that occupied them when she was summoned before them. At Tahirih’s request, she was taken before her executioners in the raiment of a bride, and asked to be strangled with her own white scarf, asking that her body be thrown into a pit and covered with stones and earth. The debauched guards might have disregarded this request, but Tahirih had asked the son of a friend to accompany her, so that the guards would be compelled to preserve some level of decorum.
Hypatia was not known to utter any last words. Tahirih is widely quoted for hers: “You may kill me when you wish, but you will never stop the emancipation of women.”
) I wasn't familiar with the story at all.