[Page xv]
INTRODUCTION
With his very first letter to the British Bahá’í community Shoghi Effendi Rabbani, the Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith, established the relationship which was to characterise all his subsequent messages. His opening words, “M y dearest brethren and sisters in the faith of God!” reflected his deep personal regard for those early British believers with whom he had so recently been associated. As the years went by and the struggling little group expanded, this same loving consideration was extended to each and every new believer. In over eight hundred letters and cables the theme is developed and now this compilation shares with its readers a most precious love story.
For the Bahá’í there is painted a picture of care, patience and encouragement, of inspiration and guidance and of fine attention to detail. For the historian there is a wealth of material not to be found elsewhere.
The reader, as he progresses through the book, will see how, gradually and almost imperceptibly, the picture changes. In the early days of the Guardianship, Shoghi Effendi, knowing personally almost all of those who would read his letters, having met them in London or Manchester, guided them gently along the pathway towards full recognition of the principles of Bahá’í administration which he was then developing through the American Bahá’í community. “Unity in essentials but diversity in the non-essentials” was the pattern. As the membership of the Bahá’í community changed and as the believers began to understand the Institution of the Guardianship, so was he able to pour out more of his infallible guidance to them. The recognition of the Faith as an independent religion, the emancipation of the Bahá’ís from their old allegiances, the incorporation of the National Assembly and the establishment of its own Publishing Trust, as well as the unity of the friends and later his intense concern for the safety of the believers during the Second World War, emerge as the outstanding features of the first twenty-two years covered by these messages.
As the first Centenary approached the Guardian called upon [Page xvi]
the British community to “ . . . ensure unprecedented expansion
pioneer teaching activities” befittingly to celebrate the first hundred
years of Bahá’í history and obtain for it the widest publicity. This
community, then comprising five local Spiritual Assemblies and
fewer than one hundred believers, received, while commemorating Naw-Rúz, 1944, a letter which concluded, “I feel proud of
their record of service, and will pray with increasing fervour for their
protection and success”. This was followed by a cable, “. . . praying
great victories opening century”.
The “Seeds” sown by the Master, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, had indeed been lovingly “tended”.
It was at the National Convention held a few weeks later, in war-torn London, on the eve of the Allied invasion of Europe, that a handful of British believers took stock, decided to have their own “Six-Year Plan” and cabled the Guardian asking him to set them some goals. Instantly, as was his wont, Shoghi Effendi seized upon this positive evidence of movement within the Cause and wrote, “The English believers stand identified with this Plan. The immediate destinies of the entire community depend upon it.” It was from this turning point that the character of the Guardian’s messages changed. The community had evolved in their understanding so their guidance became more specific. As they learned to turn to him so was he able to pour out his love for them. Encouragement, detailed instructions, the pin—pointing of individual goals, the financial support which always seemed to arrive just at the most crucial time, advice in difficult situations and tantalising glimpses of the great future which lay ahead were the characteristics of the period of their “. . . first collective enterprise”.
After an eleventh hour victory the radiant delegates, now
aware of the power which came to them through their dedication
to the Centre of the Covenant, met at Convention in 1950 and
with thankful hearts received the Guardian’s cable which so
vividly conveyed his reaction. “Heart flooded joy . . . Historic
pledge. . . nobly redeemed . . . tribute Martyr Prophet Faith worthily
paid . . .” Their reward, however, was not to be allowed to rest
on their laurels for in that same cable he then announced the
goals for their next, their Two Year, Africa, Plan. The overseas
role of the British Bahá’í community had begun and once again
the reader will become conscious of the increasing strength and [Page xvii]
authority with which the Guardian was able to guide this
community in its growing maturity.
When the Two Year Plan was triumphantly concluded, the British responsibilities in the Ten Year Crusade were confidently accepted and the community’s efforts in Africa were attended by a “swift and spectacular success”. Yet even so, the Guardian, in his last long letter written to the British National Spiritual Assembly less than three months before his passing, made reference to a still more glorious future. “The splendid work achieved, in such a short space of time, in a field so distant, and amongst a race so alien in background, outlook and customs must . . . be regarded as only a prelude to the series of future campaigns . . .” to be launched in the years ahead. To the end of his life he continued to sustain and surround with his prayers the members of that community whose African victories had given him so much joy.
It has been to present this picture as faithfully as possible that the letters and cables have been printed verbatim. Prior to April 1941 when Amatu’l-Bahá Rúḥíyyih Khánum began to write to the British Bahá’ís on behalf of the Guardian, he had had few helpers and his secretaries had caused him much suffering. Their names are not mentioned in this book and only their letters which carried the Guardian’s handwriting as a footnote or contained words which indicated they were writing as instructed by him have been used. A number of strictly personal items have been omitted, the omissions being noted by (. . .)
In the early years the Guardian would type a few copies of his general letters and most of these were published in the American “Bahá’í Administration”. Where there are copies in the British files which carry his corrections and signature, they are printed in this book in their original format, and the titles in “Bahá’í Administration”, added by the editor, the late Hand of the Cause, Horace Holley, have not been used.
The footnotes, indicated by asterisk (*) have been added only to throw light on some word or message which otherwise would not be understood; they are not intended as commentary.
The biographical notes, noted by (1') make only brief reference to those who were at the time of mention members of the British Bahá’í community; they are listed in the order in which they first appear in the text. _
The extracts from letters to individuals represent only a small [Page xviii]
fraction of the vast amount of guidance and encouragement
which the beloved Guardian poured out on all who turned to
him. They have been selected because of their permanent value
and as they are printed strictly in chronological order some idea
is given of the differing problems which from time to time
exercised the minds of the believers; they frequently reflect a
mood or condition of the community itself.
The full import of all the letters and cables reproduced in this book, not only to the privileged few who received them, but to the entire British people, may well be left to a future generation to appreciate. We of this day and age, about to embark upon yet another in that series of future campaigns, “. . . campaigns which in their range and significance, must throw into shade the feats performed in the African Continent . . .” can only turn again and again with humility and gratitude to the inspiration which flows so abundantly from its pages.
Philip Hainsworth Naw-Rúz, 1979
