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Fall 1983

World Order

Peace and Prejudice

An Open Letter to Iran’s Rulers

Temple of Light:

The Quest for a Design

Bruce W. Whitmore

The Poor in America:

A Visionary Assessment

June Thomas

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World Order

VOLUME 18, NUMBER 1 • PUBLISHED QUARTERLY

WORLD ORDER IS INTENDED TO STIMULATE, INSPIRE AND SERVE THINKING PEOPLE IN THEIR SEARCH TO FIND RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN CONTEMPORARY LIFE AND CONTEMPORARY RELIGIOUS TEACHINGS AND PHILOSOPHY

Editorial Board:

FIRUZ KAZEMZADEH

BETTY J. FISHER

HOWARD GAREY

Consultant in Poetry:

WILLIAM STAFFORD

WORLD ORDER is published quarterly by the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States, 415 Linden Avenue, Wilmette, IL 60091. Application to Mail at Second-class postage rates is pending at Wilmette, IL. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to WORLD ORDER, 415 Linden Avenue, Wilmette, IL 60091.

The views expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the publisher, the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States, or of the Editorial Board. Manuscripts should be typewritten and double spaced throughout, with the footnotes at the end. The contributor should keep a carbon copy. Return postage should be included. Send manuscripts and other editorial correspondence to WORLD ORDER, 415 Linden Avenue, Wilmette, IL 60091.

Subscription rates: U.S.A., 1 year, $10.00; 2 years, $18.00; single copies, $3.00. All other countries, 1 year, $12.00; 2 years, $22.00; single copies $3.00.

Copyright © 1984, National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States, All Rights Reserved. Printed in the U.S.A.

ISSN 0043-8804

IN THIS ISSUE

2 Peace and Prejudice

4 Interchange: Letters from and to the Editor

9 An Open Letter to Iran’s Rulers

by National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of

Iran

19 Temple of Light: The Quest for a Design

by Bruce W. Whitmore

37 Sensibility

poem by Deborah L. Bley

37 Upon Flying Puffer Kites for Inge

poem by Cal E. Rollins

39 The Poor in America: A Visionary Assessment

by June Thomas

Inside back cover: Authors & Artists in This Issue

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Peace and Prejudice

THIS IS certainly as discouraging a moment in history as ever the world has passed through. It takes the courage of fools or angels to contemplate the present situation and still talk about peace, love, and hope. And yet we must. To lose hope in these times is to know the full meaning of despair. So where are to be found the justifications of hope?

Northern Ireland in ceaseless strife between followers of warring branches of the same religion.

Lebanon, fractured into contending communities of religions, sects, languages, and traditions.

Indo-China, where the war is over but where there is no peace.

Iran, where a whole country is gripped by madness. Religious persecution has become an integral part of national policy—what a cruel reversal of civilization’s gain! Every religious minority is harassed, some severely persecuted, and at least one, the entire Bahá’í community, is threatened with physical extinction.

There are both irony and, beyond it, an important lesson in this singling out of the Bahá’ís for annihilation. In the other cases cited here there is, in at least a segment of the adversary elements concerned, a mutual detestation, a desire on each side for the immediate destruction and the eternal perdition of the other. Although the desire for peace and mutual forgiveness is not lacking within the communities that are locked in conflict, the forces of hate dominate the scene, and the peace lovers can only wring their hands before their revenge-seeking coreligionists and compatriots.

But the Bahá’ís, even in the worst of conditions, are as one in their desire for peace, in their determination to live peaceably, their refusal to hate, their rejection of violence. They will not be drawn into the unending cycle of mutual destruction. Driven from their homes, their shops, their jobs, deprived of all rights—the bedrock economic rights to collect the insurance due a surviving widow, or the pension due a faithful employee or civil servant, the right to education for their children, to decent burial for their martyrs—they neither seek revenge by joining in subversive or paramilitary action against the oppressive government, author of their woes, nor do they give in. In spite of offers of unconditional pardon, of restoration of property rights, if only they renounce their faith and declare themselves to be Muslims returned to the true faith after a misguided aberrancy, the Bahá’ís continue to proclaim their faith in the Message of Bahá’u’lláh.

From outside it may appear that these people are stubborn to the point of fanaticism. What harm would it do to lie a little, to say the innocuous words, “I am no longer a Bahá’í—I declare myself to be a faithful Muslim, a follower of the Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, and a convinced supporter of the Islamic Revolution”? Only words, one might say. But the objections to such a course raise themselves like an impassable range of mountains.

Iranian Bahá’ís know that renunciation of their faith will not end their troubles even as individuals. “Reformed” Bahá’ís will be pressured to denounce their friends and relatives—and how will they be able to resist such pressures once they have declared themselves to have returned to the Muslim [Page 3] fold? They will be paraded in front of TV cameras to reiterate their “convenient” lie. They will witness the increased fury of persecution directed against their coreligionists. In this case, can a merely verbal renunciation of the Faith be said to be a harmless lie—or even a lie at all? Hasn’t one really renounced his faith, his family, his loved ones, and consigned them all to the relentless fury of their enemies? No, life would be a hundred times more unbearable than a martyr’s death, or than the life of a refugee in the caves of the surrounding mountains.

Such is the life of commitment to the extirpation of prejudice. Prejudice of all sorts is forbidden to the Bahá’ís—prejudice against the believers of other religions, prejudice of class, race, ethnicity, profession, degree and kind of education. Prejudice in all its manifestations, the lifted eyebrow, the ethnic slur disguised as a joke, the exclusion of certain categories of individuals from clubs, trade unions, whole professions; the active persecution of whole groups defined by race, caste, or religion; the alliance of hate groups with the government, as in Hitler’s Germany or Khomeini’s Iran; and, finally, merciless seeking out, imprisonment, burning, destruction, annihilation.

This is the route on which we started—remember?—with a lifted eyebrow. There is no step along this way that can rightly be accepted without resistance. If we look once again at the roll call of troubled places in the world, we find, even underlying the hatreds that characterize them all—prejudice. That is why the Bahá’í example is a ray of light not only to their fellow Iranians (many now sickened by war, strife, disorder, and, almost worst of all, hypocrisy), but to the rest of the world. No wonder the Bahá’ís, for all their mildness, have been correctly identified by the Satanic (to use the word favored by Shiite clergy) legions of violence, oppression, and murder, as their most dangerous enemy.

The enemy of violence is the lover of peace. The Bahá’í Faith is engaged in a war to the death on violence and hate—a war that does not resort to the usual methods of war, to hatred, or to lies in the pursuit of its aims. We may learn this lesson from the ruthless persecutors of the Bahá’ís: Let us direct our gaze with theirs to strife’s great Enemy, Bahá’u’lláh, and, having identified Him, take up His cause.

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Interchange LETTERS FROM AND TO THE EDITOR

THIS is a time for poetry and a time for farewells. First, we bid a reluctant good-bye to William Stafford, who has served as our consultant in poetry since our Winter 1981-82 issue and who has capped his almost two years on the Editorial Board with an anthology of poems that he selected and introduced in our Summer 1983 issue.

Circumstances dictated that Mr. Stafford was never able to meet with the Editorial Board in person, but his presence was always felt—in the speed with which he read packages of poems forwarded to him, in the care that went into selecting poems for publication, in his concern for the fledgling poets whom he met through the mailbag and in his travels.

As Mr. Stafford nears his seventieth birthday, he feels he must devote more time to his own work. We wish him well, and we look forward to his next volume of poems (and ask for it the acclaim accorded his Glass Face in the Rain, published in 1982). In parting we can only echo the words of the Oregon Arts Commission, which, in presenting Mr. Stafford the Governor’s Arts Award in 1982, observed that he “is an inspiration to all generations not only in his gift of time to others but in his visions of the present, past, and future.” We are grateful for the time he so freely gave WORLD ORDER and for the light he shed for the poets of the future.

* * *

OUR SECOND farewell is to poet Margaret Esse Danner, who died on 1 January 1984 in Chicago, Illinois. Margaret Danner first decided to be a poet when she won a prize for a poem she wrote: She was in the eighth grade. After she graduated from high school, she set out to prepare herself for her life’s work by enrolling at YMCA College in Chicago and then at Roosevelt, Loyola, and Northwestern universities.

Margaret Danner’s first public recognition came in 1945 when she won second prize in the Poetry Workshop of the Midwestern Writers’ Conference at Northwestern University. In 1952 she became the first black assistant for the prestigious Poetry Magazine and in 1956 assistant editor.

Numerous honors and awards followed: the John Hay Whitney Award (which enabled Danner to visit Africa), the Harriet Tubman Award, the American Society for African Culture Award, the Native Chicagoan Literary Award, poet-in-residence at Wayne State University (1960), poet-in-residence at Virginia Union University (1968-70), and poet-in-residence at Lemoyne-Owen College (1971-75).

Editions of Margaret Danner’s poetry include Impressions of African Art Forms, Poem Counterpoem (with Dudley Randall), To Flower, and The Down of a Thistle. An editor of several anthologies of students’ poems, Danner’s own work appears in anthologies including American Negro Poetry, Beyond the Blues, Black Writers of America, Broadside Treasury, and Cavalcade, as well as in periodicals such as Poetry, Negro Digest, and Chicago Magazine.

But Margaret Danner is not to be understood in a mere recitation of facts. She was [Page 5] sometimes called a poet ahead of her time, for she extolled the beauty of African art when many still regarded it as primitive and exotic, and she heralded African culture as a valuable and significant heritage to be cherished and celebrated. She drew on her Bahá’í heritage to formulate a world-embracing vision when it would have been more popular to use her art for protest. She was, indeed, ahead of her time. She refused to be a woman poet or a black poet. She was a poet for all humankind. Margaret Danner is now mourned by readers all over the world.

To the Editor

THE HUMAN SOUL REVISITED

Becoming a student of the “divine philosophy,” as ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called it, is not easy, as many of your readers no doubt witnessed in the Spring [1983] issue of the letters section. I am referring to the letter from David M. Earl in response to author Raymond Jefford’s article in a previous issue [Fall 1982] on the subject of the soul, and Mr. Jefford’s reply. From the speculation in each of these letters the reader is left with the conclusion that human beings are possessed of two souls, one rational, and the other not. Worse yet, both writers perpetrated the myth of the separation of soul and mind. There are so many references by both Bahá’u’lláh and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explaining these abstractions that this letter can refer the reader to but some of them.

First some definitions and clarifications of some of the terms that are used in the Bahá’í writings: Many terms are philosophical terms going back to Aristotle, who first talked about a “rational soul.” He saw man as both spiritual and reasoning, thus possessing a rational soul, a term used by later philosophers. The . . . word “substance” . . . describing the soul used by Bahá’u’lláh (“It is a divine energy, a substance, simple, and self-subsistent.” Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, p. 112) also has its origins in Aristotle. If both Mr. Earl and Mr. Jeffords had consulted a good dictionary, they would not have been led so far astray. This word is a loose English approximation of the Greek word physis, roughly meaning “being.” It was used by that philosopher to connote the essential being-ness of created forms, or “what it is to be a thing.” It refers to the invisible essence or identity of a form, its unseen nature, which persists through time, change, and transformations. It is known by its qualities and attributes. It was often used as synonymous with “essence.” I have often felt that to truly understand Bahá’í philosophical language as well as many of its concepts, a course in Aristotle would be most helpful.

In fact, to further clarify the aspects of spirit/soul/mind, a Bahá’í would do well to read Aristotle’s Metaphysics dealing with what has been called “the great chain of being,” a concept almost one and the same with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s ubiquitous explanation of the “kingdoms of God” and “the journey of the atom.” Indeed, this concept is the most consistently repeated concept of any teaching ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave, and, once understood, is the key to understanding the relationship between soul/mind/spirit.

Mr. Jeffords quoted from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s Tablet to Dr. Forel, but he did not complete his reading of this Tablet to its end or I’m sure he would have seen the following: “Now regarding the question whether the faculties of the mind and the human soul are one and the same. These faculties are but the inherent properties of the soul, such as the power of the imagination, of thought, of understanding; powers that are the essential requisites of the reality of man” (Auguste Forel and the Bahá’í Faith, p. 24). Bahá’u’lláh is very clear about this one reality in His “Tablet to Ra’is.” In it He says: “Say, that spirit, mind, soul, [Page 6] hearing and sight are one, but differ through differing causes” (Star of the West, 14 [April 1923], 8).

That which manifests these different causes or conditions is that universal animating force or energy which emanates from God as Divine Spirit and is the reality pervading all created things. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called this Spirit “the power of life.” In one sense, as ‘Abdu’l-Bahá tells us, ALL degrees of existence, from mineral to human, can be said to possess a “soul” if by that we mean that same reality or Spirit which animates each hierarchy and gives to it its own individual identifiableness, or “sign from God.” In the human hierarchy, of course, this “sign from God” is the soul, whose fruit is the intellect or mind. Intellect is the power of the soul. The “spirit of faith” is not—the spirit of faith awakens the soul and ignites it with the spark of truth, of faith. This spirit comes from the Revelation itself, from the power of the Word of God, from the Holy Spirit. Without these “fragrances” and “breaths” of the Holy Spirit, the soul cannot be illumined.

This idea is best expressed by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá: “This much can be stated, that the reality of man is a pure and unknown essence constituting a depository emanating from the light of the Ancient Entity, God. This essence or soul of man because of its innate purity and its connection with the unseen Ancient Entity is old as regards time but new as regards individuality. This connection is similar to that of the rays to the sun. . . . It is the same reality which is given different names, according to the different conditions wherein it is manifested. Because of its relation to matter and the phenomenal world when it governs the physical functions of the body it is called the human soul; when it manifests itself as the thinker, the comprehender, it is called the mind. And when it soars into the atmosphere of God and travels in the spiritual world it becomes designated as spirit” (Star of the West, 14 [April 1923], 11).

In chapter 3 (pp. 128, 121) of the out-of-print book Abdul Baha on Divine Philosophy, He explains further that “The soul, like the intellect, is an abstraction” and that “the soul is not, of itself, capable of unrolling the mysteries of phenomena; but the mind can accomplish this and therefore it is a power superior to the soul.” In The Reality of Man (p. 12) ‘Abdu’l-Bahá adds that “man has a rational soul, the human intelligence.”

Once understood, the seeming contradictions disappear, and a new, compelling, and profound clarity is realized by the believer which causes the Universe itself to become topsy-turvy, and the heart to tremble by this awesome Revelation. . . .

BETTY CONOW

Hacienda Heights, California

THE EDITORS EDITED

It warmed the cockles of my heart to read dear Dr. Oskooi’s forthright letter to the Editors (Winter 1982) advising them to exercise their right to edit material submitted for publication. Perhaps he has also written to give the same advice concerning Mr. Burl Barer’s comments on the article about drug abuse, in which he implies that the use of LSD can be a pathway leading to the recognition of the Revelation of Bahá’u’lláh. It is possible that some who use LSD, or other drugs, in the hope of experiencing mystical or spiritual visions have later become attracted to the Faith and recognized true spiritual vision; but this would be in spite of having used LSD in the past. Dr. Ghadirian, a highly qualified expert, states his case against the use of drugs lucidly and with references to other experts to support his arguments on this serious and increasingly important matter.

It is more than strange that Mr. Burl Barer, as a Bahá’í, sets more store by the statement of Prof. Walter Satce, who declares that mystical experiences result from the use of LSD, than by the statement made by the infallible Universal House of Justice that they do not! This type of false statement is harmful to himself; but if he is careless of his own good, let him beware of leading weak, young people astray by almost advocating the use of hallucinogens as a means of finding spiritual truths.

URSULA SAMANDARI

Buea, Cameroon

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An Open Letter to Iran’s Rulers

(TRANSLATED FROM PERSIAN)

ON AUGUST 29, 1983, the Revolutionary Prosecutor General of the Islamic Republic of Iran, Siyyid Ḥusayn Músaví Tabrízí, declared in a press interview that Bahá’í religious organizations were illegal and participation in them was a criminal act. The decree outlawed the National Spiritual Assembly, governing body of the Iranian Bahá’í community, and four hundred local spiritual assemblies, as well as their committees and subsidiary institutions. In conformity with the teachings of their Faith the Bahá’ís of Iran disbanded all their organizations.

The dissolution of organizations that the Bahá’ís call administrative institutions means much more than those who are unfamiliar with the role spiritual assemblies play in a community that has no clergy may imagine. The spiritual assemblies collectively perform the work of priest, teacher, adviser, trustee of funds, and keeper of records. They admit to membership, witness marriages, supervise the religious education of children, settle disputes among individuals, grant religious divorce, encourage good deeds, and censure bad behavior. Thus spiritual assemblies are central to the life of the Bahá’í community.

The document presented here is a letter written by the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of Iran in response to the statement of the Prosecutor General outlawing Bahá’í administrative institutions. One will realize the degree of courage it took the members of the National Spiritual Assembly thus to address the Islamic Government when one recalls that seventeen of their predecessors on the National Assembly had been either abducted or executed by the same regime.

The letter, delivered to some two thousand government officials and prominent personages in Iran, eloquently testifies to the heroism of its authors and the peaceful nature of the community they led. It exemplifies also the confidence and pride of those who firmly believe that the One unknowable God has decreed the ultimate triumph of truth and justice.

National Spiritual Assembly of

the Bahá’ís of the United States

November 1, 1983

---

12 Shahrívar 1362

[September 3, 1983]

RECENTLY the esteemed Prosecutor General of the Islamic Revolution of the Country, in an interview that was published in the newspapers, declared that the continued functioning of the Bahá’í religious and spiritual administration is banned and that membership in it is considered to be a crime. This declaration was made after certain unjustified accusations were leveled against the Bahá’í community [Page 10] of Iran and after a number of its members—ostensibly for imaginary and fabricated crimes but in reality merely for the sake of their beliefs—were either executed, or arrested and imprisoned. The majority of those who have been imprisoned have not yet been brought to trial.

The Bahá’í community finds the conduct of the authorities and the judges bewildering and lamentable—as indeed would any fair-minded observer who is unblinded by malice. The authorities are the refuge of the people; the judges in pursuit of their work of examining and ascertaining the truth and facts in legal cases devote years of their lives to studying the law and, when uncertain of a legal point, spend hours poring over copious tomes in order to cross a t and dot an i. Yet these very people consider themselves to be justified in brazenly bringing false accusations against a band of innocent people, without fear of the Day of Judgment, without even believing the calumnies they utter against their victims, and having exerted not the slightest effort to investigate to any degree the validity of the charges they are making. “Methinks they are not believers in the Day of Judgment” [Ḥáfiẓ, a fourteenth-century Persian poet].

The honorable Prosecutor has again introduced the baseless and fictitious story that Bahá’ís engage in espionage, but without producing so much as one document in support of the accusation, without presenting proof in any form, and without any explanation as to what is the mission in this country of this extraordinary number of “spies”: what sort of information they obtain and from what sources? Whither do they relay it, and for what purpose? What kind of “spy” is an eighty-five year old man from Yazd who has never set foot outside his village? Why do these alleged “spies” not hide themselves, conceal their religious beliefs and exert every effort to penetrate, by every stratagem, the Government’s information centers and offices? Why has no Bahá’í “spy” been arrested anywhere else in the world? How could students, housewives, innocent young girls, and old men and women, such as those blameless Bahá’ís who have recently been delivered to the gallows in Iran, or who have become targets for the darts of prejudice and enmity, be “spies”? How could the Bahá’í farmers of the villages of Afús Chígán, the Fort of Malak (near Iṣfahán), and those of the village of Núk in Bírjand, be “spies”? What secret intelligence documents have been found in their possession? What espionage equipment has come to hand? What “spying” activities were engaged in by the primary school children who have been expelled from their schools?

And how strange! The honorable Prosecutor perhaps does not know, or does not care to know, that spying is an element of politics, while noninterference in politics is an established principle of the Bahá’í Faith. On the contrary, Bahá’ís love their country and never permit themselves to be traitors. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the successor of the Founder of the Bahá’í Cause, says: “Any abasement is bearable except betraying one’s own country, and any sin is forgivable other than dishonoring the government and inflicting harm upon the nation.”

All the other accusations made against the Bahá’ís by the honorable Prosecutor of the Revolution are similarly groundless. He brands the Bahá’í community with accusations of subversion and corruption. For example, on the basis of a manifestly forged interview, the falsity of which has been dealt with in a detailed statement, he accuses the Bahá’í community of hoarding, an act which its members would consider highly reprehensible. The Prosecutor alleges that the Bahá’í administration sanctioned the insensible act of hoarding, yet he subtly overlooks the fact that with the proceeds that might be realized from the sale of unusable automobile [Page 11] spare parts whose total value is some seventy million túmáns—the value of the stock of any medium-size store for spare parts—it would be impossible to overthrow a powerful government whose daily expenditures amount to hundreds of millions of túmáns. If the Prosecutor chooses to label the Bahá’í administration as a network of espionage, let him at least consider it intelligent enough not to plan the overthrow of such a strong regime by hoarding a few spare parts! Yes, such allegations of corruption and subversion are similar to those hurled against us at the time of the Episcopalian case in Iṣfahán when this oppressed community was accused of collaboration with foreign agents, as a result of which seven innocent Bahá’ís of Yazd were executed. Following this the falsity of the charges was made known and the Prosecutor announced the episode to be the outcome of a forgery.

Bahá’ís are accused of collecting contributions and transferring sums of money to foreign countries. How strange! If Muslims, in accordance with their sacred and respected spiritual beliefs, send millions of túmáns to Karbilá, Najaf and Jerusalem, or to other Muslim holy places outside Iran, to be spent on the maintenance and upkeep of the Islamic sacred shrines, it is considered very praiseworthy; but if a Bahá’í —even during the time in which the transfer of foreign currency was allowed— sends a negligible amount for his international community to be used for the repair and maintenance of the holy places of his Faith, it is considered that he has committed an unforgivable sin and it is counted as proof that he has done so in order to strengthen other countries.

Accusations of this nature are many, but all are easy to investigate. If just and impartial people and God-fearing judges will only do so, the falsity of these spurious accusations will be revealed in case after case. The Bahá’í community emphatically requests that such accusations be investigated openly in the presence of juries composed of judges and international observers so that, once and for all, the accusations may be discredited and their repetition prevented.

The basic principles and beliefs of the Bahá’ís have been repeatedly proclaimed and set forth in writing during the past five years. Apparently these communications, either by deliberate design or by mischance, have not received any attention; otherwise, accusations such as those described above would not have been repeated by one of the highest and most responsible authorities. This in itself is a proof that the numerous communications referred to were not accorded the attention of the leaders; therefore, we mention them again.

THE BAHÁ’Í FAITH confesses the unity of God and the justice of the divine Essence. It recognizes that Almighty God is an exalted, unknowable and concealed entity, sanctified from ascent and descent, from egress and regress, and from assuming a physical body. The Bahá’í Faith, which professes the existence of the invisible God, the One, the Single, the Eternal, the Peerless, bows before the loftiness of His Threshold, believes in all divine Manifestations, considers all the Prophets from Adam to the Seal of the Prophets as true divine Messengers Who are the Manifestations of Truth in the world of creation, accepts Their Books as having come from God, believes in the continuation of the divine outpourings, emphatically believes in reward and punishment, and, uniquely among existing revealed religions outside Islam, accepts the Prophet Muḥammad as a true Prophet and the Qur’án as the Word of God.

The Bahá’í Faith embodies independent principles and laws. It has its own Holy Book. It prescribes pilgrimage and worship. A Bahá’í performs obligatory prayers [Page 12] and observes a fast. He gives, according to his beliefs, tithes and contributions. He is required to be of upright conduct, to manifest a praiseworthy character, to love all mankind, to be of service to the world of humanity and to sacrifice his own interests for the good and well-being of his kind. He is forbidden to commit unbecoming deeds. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá says: “A Bahá’í is known by the attributes manifested by him, not by his name: he is recognized by his character, not by his person.”

Shoghi Rabbání, the Guardian of the Bahá’í Cause, says: “. . . a person who is not adorned with the ornaments of virtue, sanctity, and morality, is not a true Bahá’í, even though he may call himself one and be known as such.”

He also says: “The friends of God . . . are required to be virtuous, well-wishers, forbearing, sanctified, detached from all except God and free from worldly concerns. They are called upon to manifest divine attributes and characteristics.”

The teachings and laws of the Bahá’í religion testify to this truth. Fortunately, the books and writings which have been plundered in abundance from the homes of Bahá’ís and are available to the authorities, bear witness to the truth of these assertions. Bahá’ís, in keeping with their spiritual beliefs, stay clear of politics; they do not support or reject any party, group, or nation; they do not champion or attack any ideology or any specific political philosophy; they shrink from and abhor political agitation. The Guardian of the Bahá’í Cause says, “The followers of Bahá’u’lláh under whatever state or government they may reside should conduct themselves with truthfulness, fidelity, trustworthiness and absolute virtue. . . . They neither thirst for fame nor clamor for leadership. They neither indulge in flattery, nor practice hypocrisy, nor are they impelled by selfish ambition or the desire to accumulate wealth. They are not anxious to attain high ranks and positions, nor are they the bond-slaves of titles and honors. They abhor every form of ostentation and are far removed from the use of such methods as would entail violence or coercion. They have detached themselves from all else save God and have fixed their hearts upon the unfailing promises of their Lord. . . . They have become forgetful of their own selves and have dedicated themselves to that which will serve the interests of humanity. . . . They unhesitatingly refuse such functions and posts as are political in nature, but wholeheartedly accept those that are purely administrative in character. For the cardinal aim of the people of Bahá is to promote the interests of the whole nation. . . .

“Such is the way of the followers of Bahá, such is the attitude of the spiritually minded, and whatsoever else is but manifest error.”

Also, Bahá’ís, in accordance with their exalted teachings, are duty bound to be obedient to their government. Elucidating this subject, Shoghi Rabbání says: “The people of Bahá are required to obey their respective governments, and to demonstrate their truthfulness and good will towards the authorities. . . . Bahá’ís, in every land and without any exception, should . . . be obedient and bow to the clear instructions and the declared decrees issued by the authorities. They must faithfully carry out such directives.”

Bahá’í organizations have no aim except the good of all nations and do not take any steps that are against the public good. Contrary to the conception it may create in the mind because of the similarity in name, it does not resemble the current organizations of political parties; it does not interfere in political affairs; and it is the safeguard against the involvement of Bahá’ís in subversive political activities. Its high ideals are “to improve the characters of men; to extend the scope of knowledge; to abolish ignorance and prejudice; to strengthen the foundations of true religion [Page 13] in all hearts; to encourage self-reliance, and discourage false imitation; . . . to uphold truthfulness, audacity, frankness, and courage; to promote craftsmanship and agriculture; . . . to educate, on a compulsory basis, children of both sexes; to insist on integrity in business transactions; to lay stress on the observance of honesty and piety; . . . to acquire mastery and skill in the modern sciences and arts; to promote the interests of the public; . . . to obey outwardly and inwardly and with true loyalty the regulations enacted by state and government; . . . to honor, to extol and to follow the example of those who have distinguished themselves in science and learning. . . .” And again, “. . . to help the needy from every creed or sect, and to collaborate with the people of the country in all welfare services.”

In brief, whatever the clergy in other religions undertake individually and by virtue of their appointment to their positions, the Bahá’í administration performs collectively and through an elective process.

THE STATEMENTS made by the esteemed Prosecutor of the Revolution do not seem to have legal basis, because in order to circumscribe individuals and deprive them of the rights which have not been denied them by the Constitution, it is necessary to enact special legislation, provided that legislation is not contradictory to the Constitution. It was hoped that the past recent years would have witnessed, on the one hand, the administration of divine justice—a principle promoted by the true religion of Islam and prescribed by all monotheistic religions—and, on the other, and coupled with an impartial investigation of the truths of the Bahá’í Faith, the abolition or at least mitigation of discrimination, restrictions and pressures suffered by Bahá’ís over the past 135 years. Alas, on the contrary, because of long-standing misunderstandings and prejudices, the difficulties increased immensely and the portals of calamity were thrown wide open in the faces of the long-suffering and sorely oppressed Bahá’ís of Iran who were, to an even greater degree, deprived of their birthrights through the systematic machinations of Government officials who are supposed to be the refuge of the public, and of some imposters in the garb of divines, who engaged in official or unofficial spreading of mischievous and harmful accusations and calumnies, and issued, in the name of religious and judicial authorities, unlawful decrees and verdicts.

Many are the pure and innocent lives that have been snuffed out; many the distinguished heads that have adorned the hangman’s noose; and many the precious breasts that have become the targets of firing squads. Vast amounts of money and great quantities of personal property have been plundered or confiscated. Many technical experts and learned people have been tortured and condemned to long-term imprisonment and are still languishing in dark dungeons, deprived of the opportunity of placing their expertise at the service of the Government and the nation. Numerous are the self-sacrificing employees of the Government who spent their lives in faithful service but who were dismissed from work and afflicted with poverty and need because of hatred and prejudice. Even the owners of private firms and institutions were prevented from engaging Bahá’ís. Many privately owned Bahá’í establishments have been confiscated. Many tradesmen have been denied the right to continue working by cancellation of their business licenses. Bahá’í youth have been denied access to education in many schools and in all universities and institutions of higher education. Bahá’í university students abroad are deprived of receiving money for their education, and others who wish to pursue their studies outside Iran have been denied exit permits. Bahá’ís, including the very sick [Page 14] whose only hope for cure was to receive medical treatment in specialized medical centers in foreign lands, have been prevented from leaving the country. Bahá’í cemeteries have been confiscated and bodies rudely disinterred. Numerous have been the days when a body has remained unburied while the bereaved family pleaded to have a permit issued and a burial place assigned so that the body might be decently buried. As of today, thousands of Bahá’ís have been divested of their homes and forced to live as exiles. Many have been driven from their villages and dwelling places and are living as wanderers and stranded refugees in other parts of Iran with no other haven and refuge but the Court of the All-Merciful God and the loving-kindness of their friends and relatives.

It is a pity that the mass media, newspapers, and magazines, either do not want or are not allowed to publish any news about the Bahá’í community of Iran or to elaborate upon what is happening. If they were free to do so and were unbiased in reporting the daily news, volumes would have been compiled describing the inhumane cruelty to and oppression of the innocent. For example, if they were allowed to do so, they would have written that in Shíráz seven courageous men and ten valiant women—seven of whom were girls in the prime of their lives—audaciously rejected the suggestion of the religious judge that they recant their faith or, at least, dissemble their belief, and preferred death to the concealment of their faith. The women, after hours of waiting with dried lips, shrouded themselves in their chádurs, kissed the noose of their gallows, and with intense love offered up their souls for the One Who proferreth life. The observers of this cruel scene might well ask forgiveness for the murderers at Karbilá, since they, despite their countless atrocities, did not put women to the sword nor harass the sick and infirm. Alas, tongues are prevented from making utterance and pens are broken and the hidden cause of these brutalities is not made manifest to teach the world a lesson. The Prosecutor alleges that they were spies. Gracious God! Where in history can one point to a spy who readily surrendered his life in order to prove the truth of his belief?

Unfortunately, it is beyond the scope of this letter to recount the atrocities inflicted upon the guiltless Bahá’ís of Iran or to answer, one by one, the accusations leveled against them. But let us ask all just and fair-minded people only one question: If, according to the much-publicized statements of the Prosecutor, Bahá’ís are not arrested and executed because of their belief, and are not even imprisoned on that account, how is it that, when a group of them is arrested and each is charged with the same “crime” of “spying,” if one of them recants his belief, he is immediately freed, a photograph of him and a description of his defection are victoriously featured in the newspapers, and respect and glory are heaped upon him? What kind of spying, subversion, illegal accumulation of goods, aggression or conspiracy or other “crime” can it be that is capable of being blotted out upon the recantation of one’s beliefs? Is this not a clear proof of the absurdity of the accusations?

In spite of all this, the Bahá’í community of Iran, whose principles have been described earlier in this statement, announces the suspension of the Bahá’í organizations throughout Iran, in order to establish its good intentions and in conformity with its basic tenets concerning complete obedience to the instructions of the Government. Henceforth, until the time when, God willing, the misunderstandings are eliminated and the realities are at last made manifest to the authorities, the National Assembly and all local spiritual assemblies and their committees are disbanded, and no one may any longer be designated a member of the Bahá’í administration.

[Page 15] THE BAHÁ’Í COMMUNITY of Iran hopes that this step will be considered a sign of its complete obedience to the Government in power. It further hopes that the authorities —including the esteemed Prosecutor of the Islamic Revolution who says that there is no opposition to and no enmity towards individual Bahá’ís, who has acknowledged the existence of a large Bahá’í community and has, in his interview, guaranteed its members the right to live and be free in their acts of worship—will reciprocate by proving their good intentions and the truth of their assurances by issuing orders that pledge, henceforth:

1. To bring to an end the persecutions, arrests, torture, and imprisonment of Bahá’ís for imaginary crimes and on baseless pretexts, because God knows—and so do the authorities—that the only “crime” of which these innocent ones are guilty is that of their beliefs, and not the unsubstantiated accusations brought against them;

2. To guarantee the safety of their lives, their personal property and belongings, and their honor;

3. To accord them freedom to choose their residence and occupation and the right of association based on the provisions of the Constitution of the Islamic Republic;

4. To restore all the rights which have been taken away from them in accordance with the groundless assertions of the Prosecutor of the Country;

5. To restore to Bahá’í employees the rights denied them by returning them to their jobs and by paying them their due wages;

6. To release from prison all innocent prisoners;

7. To lift the restrictions imposed on the properties of those Bahá’ís who, in their own country, have been deprived of their belongings;

8. To permit Bahá’í students who wish to continue their studies abroad to benefit from the same facilities that are provided to others;

9. To permit those Bahá’í youth who have been prevented from continuing their studies in the country to resume their education;

10. To permit those Bahá’í students stranded abroad who have been deprived of foreign exchange facilities to receive their allowances as other Iranian students do;

11. To restore Bahá’í cemeteries and to permit Bahá’ís to bury their dead in accordance with Bahá’í burial ceremonies;

12. To guarantee the freedom of Bahá’ís to perform their religious rites; to conduct funerals and burials including the recitation of the Prayer for the Dead; to solemnize Bahá’í marriages and divorces, and to carry out all acts of worship and laws and ordinances affecting personal status; because although Bahá’ís are entirely obedient and subordinate to the Government in the administration of the affairs which are in the jurisdiction of the Bahá’í organizations, in matters of conscience and belief, and in accordance with their spiritual principles, they prefer martyrdom to recantation or the abandoning of the divine ordinances prescribed by their faith;

13. To desist henceforth from arresting and imprisoning anyone because of his previous membership in Bahá’í organizations.

Finally, although the order issued by the Prosecutor of the Islamic Revolution was unjust and unfair, we have accepted it. We beseech God to remove the dross of prejudice from the hearts of the authorities so that aided and enlightened by His confirmations they will be inspired to recognize the true nature of the affairs of the [Page 16] Bahá’í community and come to the unalterable conviction that the infliction of atrocities and cruelties upon a pious band of wronged ones, and the shedding of their pure blood, will stain the good name and injure the prestige of any nation or government, for what will, in truth, endure are the records of good deeds, and of acts of justice and fairness, and the names of the doers of good. These will history preserve in its bosom for posterity.

Respectfully,

(signed)

National Spiritual Assembly of
the Bahá’ís of Iran

[Page 17]

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[Page 19]

Temple of Light: The Quest for a Design

BY BRUCE W. WHITMORE

Chapters 10 and 11 of Bruce W. Whitmore’s The Dawning Place, the story of the building of the Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois, and of the forging of the North American Bahá’í community (Copyright © 1984 by the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahá’ís of the United States)—to be published in the spring of 1984—are reprinted by permission of the publisher, Bahá’í Publishing Trust, Wilmette, Illinois.

AMONG the architects who were giving serious thought to a design for the Temple was Louis Bourgeois. A French Canadian, Mr. Bourgeois was introduced to the Bahá’í Faith in or near New York City probably as a result of the New York Bahá’ís’ search for an architect to design their own Temple. For several months Mr. Bourgeois’ attraction to Bahá’u’lláh’s teachings was slowly nurtured by Marie Watson, Eaton Moses, Roy Wilhelm, and other Bahá’ís living in the area. During the winter of 1906-07 Mr. Bourgeois became a Bahá’í and moved to West Englewood (now Teaneck), New Jersey, to help Roy Wilhelm expand the Bahá’í community there.

Louis Bourgeois was a direct descendant of the Acadians who had settled Nova Scotia, as was Antoinne Ouilmette, the early pioneer after whom the village of Wilmette is named. Mr. Bourgeois accredited his mother, Magdalaine, with nurturing his artistic creativity and boundless curiosity. She, too, had been interested in art. He once reminisced that she often walked into the woods to observe the changing seasons and to gather flowers and grasses, with which she scented and decorated their home.

One of Louis Bourgeois’ earliest recollections as an artist was making a drawing of a steam locomotive near his boyhood home when he was eight years old. His eyes had widened as he gazed at “the great chariot,” and he knew he would be in serious trouble, for he had disobeyed his father by stealing away from the farm to watch the new railroad being built. But this was the first locomotive he had ever seen, and the sight was worth any punishment.

It was not the enormousness of the metal monster that transfixed him, but the intricacy of its many parts. Compelled by his artistic nature, he attempted to capture that complexity by drawing an outline of the engine on his school slate. One of the several railroad officials and local dignitaries who were discussing the inauguration ceremony scheduled for the following week noticed Louis and walked over to view his efforts. Greatly impressed by the ability of the young child, the man asked if he could have the picture. Louis, already worried about the punishment he was likely to receive, was frightened by the thought of the consequences if he came home without his slate. He jumped up to run away, but the official coaxed him to stay. He convinced Louis to transfer the drawing to paper and then present his work to the president of the Grand Trunk Railway Company during the inauguration ceremony.

Early the following Saturday Louis arrived at the new train station in his hometown of Saint-Célestin de Nicolet, Quebec, by running through four miles of fields to avoid the roadway and his father’s carriage. François Bourgeois, needless to say, was dismayed when he arrived at the ceremony and discovered the youngest of his ten children prominently participating in the most important event to occur in the town in a long time.

[Page 20] Louis Bourgeois’ drawing ability eventually found expression in architecture. His first job was as a clerk with a hometown company that specialized in building churches. He later left home, took up residence in the cramped attic of a store in which he worked, and began saving money for his architectural studies. His first design, the church of Saint-Wenceslas in the diocese of Nicolet, was completed when he was twenty-one.

Two years later Mr. Bourgeois married, but his wife, a distinguished musician, died not long after the birth of their third child. Following her death he worked for a time in a studio with one of his cousins. With the assistance of their employer both men were able to move to Paris to continue their architectural studies at the famed École des Beaux Arts. After Mr. Bourgeois’ cousin returned to Canada, Mr. Bourgeois traveled extensively throughout Italy, Greece, Egypt, Persia, Turkey, and other countries. His wanderlust was motivated in part by his desire to study first hand the different architectural styles of the world. It was also for him the beginning of a long spiritual quest, for he at last had the opportunity to investigate many of the world’s religions.

In 1886 Louis Bourgeois settled in Chicago. After spending the next several years in the Midwest, he moved to California in the mid-1890s. Although he planned several commercial structures there, he primarily designed private residences, one of which was a large estate in Hollywood for the famed floral artist Paul De Longpre. This structure, as well as the Gray Hotel in Los Angeles, was noted in particular “for the touches of intricate tracery and elaborate ornamentation which characterize the Bourgeois style.” While working on the estate, Mr. Bourgeois was attracted to Mr. De Longpre’s daughter, Alice, whom he would marry fifteen years later.

A close friend of Louis Bourgeois’, L. B. Pemberton, recalled a walk he took With Mr. Bourgeois one spring morning in 1901 through the Mission Hills in Santa Barbara, California. “He related at some length,” wrote Mr. Pemberton, “that his mission in life was to build a large temple to be dedicated to Truth, which was to be surrounded by other buildings devoted to Art and Science and the welfare of humanity. Just where these buildings would be located he was not sure, but . . . [he] hoped it might be somewhere in sunny California.” Louis Bourgeois later reflected on his early inspiration:

“I had a strong psychic feeling that the Christ spirit was astir in the world and that I should design the temple for this spirit. I had been something of an amateur astronomer and had thought with wonder of the [Page 21] beautiful spiral curves which the heavenly bodies trace in the sky as they circle the sun in their elliptical orbits that cut each other in different planes and that move forward as the whole solar system moves.

“I was standing by the seaside, and, as an inspiration made me see how these pure mathematical lines of astronomy could be worked into designs of wonderful beauty, I traced on the sand of the seashore such figures as I have wrought into the dome of that temple. Although when I began to work no wave was in sight, all of a sudden a great wave came up and washed out my design as if some unseen power wished to hide this yet undiscovered secret of nature. . . .”

IN 1901 Louis Bourgeois left California and traveled to Pittsburgh. The De Longpres were heartbroken not long afterward when they learned through Associated Press dispatches that he “had been taken to a sanitarium near Pittsburgh with pneumonia and three days later had passed on.” The report, however, was premature, and before the end of 1901 Mr. Bourgeois settled in New York. There he collaborated with another architect, Paul Blumenstein, to prepare a competitive design for the Permanent Court of Arbitration’s Peace Palace and Library at The Hague. The Permanent Court of Arbitration had been established in The Netherlands in 1899 for the peaceful settlement of international disputes. The Bourgeois-Blumenstein design attempted to express in architectural terms the Court’s goal of peace and, as such, avoided any suggestion of castles, citadels, or other historically warlike structures. The circle was used extensively in the building and gardens to express unity and harmony; the eight points of the building’s octagonal exterior represented the eight nations that formed the tribunal.

During 1904 Louis Bourgeois and Paul Blumenstein were both introduced to the Bahá’í Faith. After becoming a Bahá’í about two years later, Mr. Bourgeois decided to send his eight-sided design for the Permanent Court of Arbitration to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá when Roy Wilhelm visited Him in 1907; it was one of at least two designs that were sent to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá before 1909. Mr. Wilhelm recalled that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá looked at the Bourgeois design “casually & passing . . . [it] back to me commented—‘The Bahai Temple will have nine sides.’”

The Executive Board of the Bahai Temple Unity, immediately after its April 1909 election, invited architects in the United States and Canada to submit designs for the Temple before August. Louis Bourgeois seized the opportunity, but he found the three-month time limit too short to prepare a completed design. Instead, he submitted “‘preliminary sketches,’” which, he regretted, “‘were not satisfactory to me. I could get only the general outline. The inverted circle I had chosen for the form of a nine-pointed star was my ideal in symbol as an open circle is a magnet, but the feeling of the space for windows and doors was not satisfactory.’”

Although six designs had been submitted by October, Louis Bourgeois discovered that he still had time to solve the problems in his design [Page 22] long after the August deadline, as ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had told the American Bahá’ís not to choose definite architectural plans until they had raised a sizable portion of the money for construction. Between 1909 and 1917 Mr. Bourgeois reworked the design but still could not develop an adequate architectural arrangement for the windows and doors. “‘Nothing seemed to fit in those circles,’” he said, “‘so I decided to wait for a new light.’”

In 1917 Mr. Bourgeois, at Roy Wilhelm’s urging, attended the Bahai Temple Unity convention in Boston, where Bourgeois’ 1909 sketches were among the designs viewed by the delegates. “‘I was no more satisfied with my design of three months’ work than I was when I delivered the sketches in 1909,’” he recalled, “‘but in the basic principle of the symbolization I could not find anything to alter. Only the details were not my ideal.’” Alfred Lunt, president of the Bahai Temple Unity’s Executive Board, and a lawyer, approached Louis Bourgeois after the convention to ask him if he “‘could not put a more Oriental feeling’” into the design. Agreeing that he could, Mr. Bourgeois left the convention “‘with a new fire in my heart and the desire to do something worthy of the cause.’”

Because the world war had decreased the demand for architects, Louis Bourgeois could find no work that would support himself and his family and enable him to continue refining the Temple design. “‘Mrs. Bourgeois proposed to buy a small general store that was for sale near us,’” he wrote, “‘which she was willing to take care of. This was generous, but I had no money to buy the store with. After thinking it over a great deal, we decided that we would mortgage our home in order to get the money with which to buy the store.’” His wife set aside her own career as an artist and devoted her energies to waiting on customers, thus providing the meager income on which they lived.

Louis Bourgeois initially anticipated that the design would require three months to complete. Instead, he struggled for more than two years, during which time he often worked for sixteen hours a day, “‘As soon as I started [the first floor],’” he said, “‘I felt a powerful influence within me, a thrilling sensation that gave me courage. Inspiration came to me without interruption how to use the wonderful space which I had tried to design for eight years without success.’”

The architect felt that the form of the building could not be completely understood by presenting a “‘simple drawing.’” “‘The only way to present it,’” he decided, “‘should be as a model, but how to make a model? I had no money for a model maker and I never had made one before. I had never done carving on a jewelry scale which takes an expert.’” Mr. Bourgeois had built, however, a much simpler model twenty years before in California for one of his design assignments. “‘I remembered the spiritual dictation of twenty years ago, “Go and do it.” I made up my mind that I would attempt it.’”

His immediate obstacle was finding money to buy the plaster. As a source of income he turned to his flower garden. The garden had been planted in the shape of a large bell, which, he explained, “‘was the greatest musical instrument we have; it is the conveyor of sound to the greatest distance. . . . [It] conveys our sorrows and our joys. . . . and as the world was in distress I hung out this great bell.’” In the midst of the garden was a “‘small summer house covered with beautiful Perkins roses.’” He cut enough roses to fill his wife’s laundry basket and sold them in New York for five dollars, which was enough money to buy his first barrel of plaster.

Modeling in solid plaster was a new experience for Louis Bourgeois, and the work was [Page 23] complicated by the miniature detail it required. To get help he wrote to a French friend, J. A. Meliodon, who was a prominent sculptor, and asked him to come for a visit. After watching his friend work, Mr. Bourgeois began his own carving:

“I worked at this first floor of the Temple a long time. In classic training we were taught to design first the floor plan[,] the mass for the elevation, then work up the details, but I tried this persistently without success. I got that first floor thought out and could not see anything above, so I decided that if it was the work of inspiration, I could trust that power and work according to my leading. I started to carve the first floor. It was a great deal of work but I started early in the morning and kept at it till dark till it was accomplished. I then started to draw the second floor and to my surprise it came to me at once. I tried to draw the third but could not get anything, then I proceeded to carve it [the second floor] in that unusual way and when it was finished, I got the idea for the third. I could not get the dome design until the third was carved . . . I then had all those separate pieces and was very anxious to see what the result would be when they all were put together.’”

In another account Louis Bourgeois noted that it took him three months to find a dome that would be in satisfactory proportion to the structure below it. “‘I became impatient,’” he lamented, “‘and was almost frantic trying to complete this design. Then one morning I had about given up hope when, in a flash of light, I was awakened and saw the dome of this building. It was on the building. I got up and snatched a piece of wrapping paper and made a sketch of the building and the dome and then went back to bed. I arose the next morning and there I found my temple.’”

Rather than carving the entire model, Mr. Bourgeois made models for various sections of the design (such as the main pylon), from which he would cast duplicate pieces to be assembled into the final model. Having no money to cast the pieces, he visited a Mr. Jacobson of Jacobson and Company, one of the largest ornamental plaster makers in America, and explained what he needed. Mr. Jacobson, an old acquaintance of Mr. Bourgeois’, offered to cast the pieces free of charge. They began with the casting of the first floor, “‘twelve pieces of towers and twelve pieces for the walls.’”

After three months Mr. Bourgeois brought the models for the second floor:

“Mr. Jacobson said to me: ‘What is this casting for now?’ I answered: ‘The second floor of the Temple.’ He answered me: ‘I never thought that it was an enormous work like this. I thought what you brought to me three months ago was all there was to it. As this is a company I must explain where the money comes from to pay for the labor.’”

The architect explained that he still had no money, but he promised to pay for the work as soon as he could. “‘He generously accepted . . . [my] offer,’” Mr. Bourgeois recalled, “‘and the work kept on till completion.’”

One afternoon a visiting union steward noticed that a group of the newly cast pieces did not bear the required sculptor’s union stamp. Refusing to listen to Mr. Jacobson’s explanations, the steward ordered all work to cease. Louis Bourgeois was notified that if the model was to be cast unblemished, special permission would have to be obtained from the union’s executive council.

Meeting with the council, the architect explained the purpose of the model and convinced the council to grant permission to forego the union stamp. But they were willing to overlook the stamp “‘only for the pieces that are in Jacobson’s shop now.’” In reply, Mr. Bourgeois insisted that the permission was [Page 24] worthless to him unless he could cast all of the pieces without the stamp. “‘Then, after more argument on both sides they decided that that was all they could do at that time and they would argue later about the rest.’” “‘I do not know if they ever argued about it again,’” Mr. Bourgeois wrote, “‘all I know is that I never had any more interference and got all the casting I needed.’”

Despite the settlement of the union problem, Mr. Jacobson continued to complain that he could not complete all of the work Louis Bourgeois required. After refusing a request for 513 columns, he offered to construct a mold so that Mr. Bourgeois could do the casting himself. “‘I accepted the offer,’” recounted Mr. Bourgeois, “‘but found in trying that I could cast about five columns in a day of very arduous work and with great loss of plaster, for it was so delicate that most of the columns broke while I was pulling them out of the mould.’”

Undaunted, he again visited Mr. Jacobson and persuaded him to cast twenty-five columns. Much later he returned to ask for fifty more. “‘I kept at it at different intervals, passing by the back door to the foreman’s headquarters, always asking for no more than seventy-five columns at a time, until I managed to get all I needed for three-fourths of the temple which is all one can see from a given point.’”

The completed model was more than twelve feet in diameter, nine feet tall, and several hundred pounds in weight. It represented a structure of gigantic proportions, 360 feet high and 450 feet in diameter, measurements that were chosen as multiples of nine. In determining the Temple’s size, Louis Bourgeois may have been influenced by the attitude of one of his former employers, Daniel Burnham, the chief architect of the Columbian Exposition: “‘Make no little plans . . . ,’” he once had said, “‘they have no magic to stir men’s blood. . . .’”

The most dominant feature of the model is its symmetry. The use of exact proportions throughout a building was a hallmark of the École des Beaux Arts, where Louis Bourgeois had studied, and whose influence had dominated the architecture of the Columbian Exposition in Chicago. The school’s interest in symmetry was inspired by the Neoclassical style that flourished in the early 1800s. Louis Bourgeois envisioned a Temple with nine equal sides crowned in the middle by an Early Renaissance dome, a type constructed in Italy during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. For architects of the Renaissance, symmetry was a way to express the concept of unity. Contrasting with the general Occidental configuration of the Bourgeois dome, however, is an Oriental element —a skin of arabesque tracery commonly found in Islamic architecture.

The ribs above the dome are reminiscent of the Gothic ribbing found on some Early Renaissance domes, such as that of the cathedral in Florence. However, the ribs of the Bourgeois design differ from those of Early Renaissance domes in that they continue downward to the base of the clerestory, a level commonly found directly below the dome. The presence of a clerestory is a feature of both Renaissance and Romanesque architecture; yet the most prominent feature of the Bourgeois clerestory, the scalloped arches with arabesque tracery above the windows, is similar to the interior arches of the eighth-century Moorish mosque in Cordova, Spain.

The large windows of the gallery, immediately below the clerestory, reflect an arabesque influence in their overlying tracery and interlacing arches. The small windows at the base of the gallery, however, are Romanesque because of their unornamental arches and their positioning deep in the masonry.

Arabesque tracery again predominates at the main level. Louis Bourgeois used scalloped arches over the windows, as in the clerestory, and chose the same style of arches to decorate the entrances. Nine pylons stand at the nine points of both the main level and gallery. Ornamented [Page 25] with the symbols of the world’s great religions, the pylons evoke the minarets of the great Muslim mosques.

The silhouette of the Temple model, like Mr. Bourgeois’ flower garden, resembles a bell, “the conveyor of sound to the greatest distance,” “This Temple,” he later wrote, “coming from the realm of Baha . . . is the Great Bell, calling to America. Will they hear it?”

LOUIS BOURGEOIS claimed emphatically that the design was the result of spiritual inspiration. This notion gained popularity within the Bahá’í community during the early months of 1920 when many people came to the Bourgeois home to view the model. The showing had about it an air of mystery: Everyone would gather in a room partitioned in half by a large, dark curtain. After silent prayers were offered, the curtain would slowly part to reveal the model illuminated from within.

Mr. Bourgeois’ claim, however, would be challenged during the next several years by Charles Mason Remey, who pointed out that the design was very similar to the Bourgeois-Blumenstein [Page 26] plan for the Peace Palace at The Hague. The shape of the dome was different; there were nine sides instead of the Peace Palace’s eight; the clerestory was added immediately below the dome; but there is no denying that the Temple is a modification of the Peace Palace design.

Moreover, it is clear from photographic and pictorial evidence too voluminous to be adduced here that Mr. Bourgeois, like most architects, was subject to the influence not only of his own earlier works but of the works of other architects. A lengthy study now in progress shows, for example, that Louis Bourgeois borrowed details from the noted architect Louis Sullivan. In addition, details from Bahá’í architects, such as Mason Remey, appear in Mr. Bourgeois’ post-Boston design and solve problems he admitted not having been able to solve between 1909 and 1917. Mr. Bourgeois’ drawings, unchanged since 1909, were on view at the 1917 convention in Boston, along with other designs submitted to the Bahá’í Temple Unity in 1909 and 1910. New additions at the convention were designs prepared by Mr. Remey— designs he published in a book in the summer of 1917. Among the drawings were Romanesque and Gothic designs that helped Mr. Bourgeois solve the architectural problems of the first floor, particularly problems in the window and door spaces, and a Renaissance design that influenced the development of the silhouette of the building.

Mr. Bourgeois has written that when he began to work on the Temple design after he returned from the Boston convention “‘Inspiration came to me without interruption how to use the wonderful space which I had tried to design for eight years without success.’” That inspiration, after one examines the dates involved and the photographic and pictorial evidence, was the inspiration of synthesizing details into a new, magnificent design that transcended his own previous work and the works of other architects who influenced him. Indeed, this unique and harmonious synthesis was further elaborated in Mr. Bourgeois’ design of the ornamentation, through which he expressed symbolically the unity of religions he had sought throughout his lifetime. “All the religious symbols of the world . . . crosses, circles, triangles, pyramids . . . the Greek and Roman cross, the swastika, the five-, six-, seven-, eight-, and . . . nine-pointed star . . . the serpent, the sun, the fire—everything which man has once used to suggest the Deity or infinity,” observed Mary Hanford Ford, can be found in the ornamentation. Furthermore, a series of ellipses in the dome, inspired by Mr. Bourgeois’ thoughts of the planets orbiting the sun, symbolizes a unity beyond this planet—a unity that encompasses the entire universe.

Louis Bourgeois’ eleven-year endeavor was over. But his was neither the only design nor [Page 27] the only struggle. It remained to be seen whether his creation would fulfill the requirements for the Bahá’í Temple in America, or whether the imaginative design would be rejected and remain forever only a vision, only a dream.

THE EMERGENCE of the League of Nations gave new hope to a war-torn world in the early days of 1920. Yet within weeks the optimism diminished when the United States Senate rejected both the Treaty of Versailles and the League. Whether the organization could have promoted universal peace and prevented another world war, had it been supported by the United States, is difficult to tell. Nonetheless, this attempt at worldwide unity had failed.

At the same time, the Bahá’ís’ seventeen-year struggle to raise their majestic symbol of unity reached a new plateau. The Executive Board, in its annual call for delegates to the 1920 Bahai Temple Unity convention, disclosed that “Abdu’l-Bahá . . . has granted permission that at this Convention the delegates should choose the building plan for the Mashrekol-Azkar. . . .”

As in previous years, a Bahá’í congress was held in conjunction with the annual convention. The congress opened with a reception at the Aldine Club in New York City during the afternoon of 24 April. In his introductory remarks Mountfort Mills, who would be elected chairman of the convention, alluded to the United States’ failure to support the League of Nations:

“Just a year ago we gathered in a feast similar to this. It was then in our hearts to realize the Most Great Peace among the nations. We fear the full realization of this is still far away. But far be it from me to sound a note of sorrow or depression. It is rather to emphasize our hopes and expectations, for great is our joy that we have been shown the path that leads to the ultimate goal.”

Most of the lectures addressed the promotion of world unity and the role of religion in securing and safeguarding it. Among the other speakers was Corinne True, who said:

“Jesus told of the Great Day that was to come. As a sign of the coming bounty he revealed the Lord’s prayer. Now we are realizing this bounty in a new creation. . . . The Mashrek-ol-Azkar, to be erected on Lake Michigan, is the greatest sign that the blessed hope and promise have been fulfilled.”

The convention itself opened on Monday, 26 April, at the Engineering Societies’ Building on 39th Street. After organizing the convention and discussing procedural matters in the morning, the delegates turned their attention to the Temple. To begin, Harry (William H.) Randall, treasurer of the Executive Board, was asked to read a collection of notes he had taken while in Haifa and that had been reviewed by [Page 28] ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. The notes revealed that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá refused to express a preference for any particular Temple design; to do so might have caused disunity among the Bahá’ís. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá suggested that the delegates choose one design that was “‘in agreement with the sentiment or opinion of the delegates’” and send it to Him for approval and suggestions. If the delegates could not agree unanimously, He said, they must “‘accept the vote of the majority.’” When told there was only $150,000 on hand to begin building, He responded, “‘That is enough only to begin the foundation, you must get more money.’”

At least fifteen designs were displayed at the 1920 convention, although only three of the architects were present—Louis Bourgeois, Charles Mason Remey, and William Sutherland Maxwell, known to Bahá’ís as Sutherland. The delegates decided to allow each of the designers twenty minutes to explain his concept. Mr. Bourgeois, now sixty-four years old, told the delegates that he believed Bahá’u’lláh had alluded in His Hidden Words to the evolution of a new art form. Thus Mr. Bourgeois had attempted to avoid any specific style of the past. Since Bahá’u’lláh’s teachings unified and fulfilled former religious teachings, Mr. Bourgeois added, and since religious thought had expressed itself through various forms of architecture, Mr. Bourgeois had tried to blend elements of many architectural styles into a new whole.

The delegates expressed concern about the structural stability of Louis Bourgeois’ creation, to which he responded, “‘No building of that shape has ever been made but I have had the best engineer in New York visit it [the model] and he told me that this building is the strongest building that the world has ever seen; it has got to be.” Applause greeted his statement, which prompted the chairman to urge impartiality among the delegates until they had listened to all of the presentations. Yet Mr. Bourgeois’ confidence was bolstered by their expression of support. Earlier he had boldly stated, “‘I don’t care if you take it or don’t take it, this building will be built somewhere.’” Commenting on the reaction of a fellow architect, Mr. Bourgeois later added, “‘[The architect] studied it three hours, and I don’t think I will tell you what he said about it because it is too good.’”

In addressing the delegates’ further concern that the model represented a building too large and costly, Louis Bourgeois explained that his design could be reduced to half size without losing its architectural integrity. The smaller foundation level, he said, could be constructed for approximately $200,000. “‘You can use that for your meeting and wait until you have more money for another floor,’” he noted. “‘And keep on going, and then you will have a monument that will draw the world, otherwise you will have a chapel.’”

Another of the architects, Charles Mason Remey, recounted the long years he had spent [Page 29] preparing nine designs, each based on a different style of architecture. Although he displayed all nine, he recommended only one for the delegates’ consideration—a design in an Indian style, presented as a landscaped model— because he felt its size and cost were reasonable. Sutherland Maxwell exhibited his own plans in a series of colored drawings. The Maxwell design expressed the Bahá’í symbolism of the number nine by incorporating nine fountains in the gardens, each nine feet in diameter; nine steps leading to the entrances; a central auditorium eighty-one feet in diameter; meditation areas surrounded by nine columns; and a dome lighted by twenty-seven glass mosaic windows. Mr. Maxwell explained to the delegates that he had attempted to find “a point in construction where the East and West would contact.”

The four remaining designs were by Charles E. Brush of Chicago (then deceased), Charles L. Lincoln of New York City, Myron Potter of Cleveland, and Fred J. Woodward of Washington, D.C. Mr. Potter’s design was apparently the largest, for he estimated it would cost $20,000,000 to construct. Mr. Remey’s Indian model would have cost less than $600,000; Mr. Maxwell’s plan, approximately $1,000,000; and Mr. Bourgeois’ half-size plan, $1,500,000.

Midway through the session on the following morning, 27 April, the delegates assembled in one of two rooms used for displaying the designs on an upper floor of the Engineering Societies’ Building. At the close of the previous day’s session it had been decided, after considerable discussion, that an expert architect and engineer be invited to confer with the delegates before making the final selection. Waiting to speak to the delegates was H. Van Buren Magonigle, president of the Architectural League of New York City, and “‘one of the best known architects in the country.’” Mountfort Mills, the chairman of the convention, briefly explained to Mr. Magonigle that the delegates wanted to choose a design that would “‘symbolize unity between the East and the West— the idea is that it does not represent any locality, it is universal.’”

With that information in mind, Mr. Magonigle addressed the convention:

“The problem before me is rather a difficult one, because I am forced to consider these various designs, not from your point of view at all, but from the point of view of an architect who knows only what he has gathered this morning . . . of your tenets, and of the scope of your particular belief, and so, as I say, I can only judge of these things from the purely technical standpoint.”

He then commented on each of the exhibited designs in the first room:

“taking that structure there at the end of the room, which has a certain curious blend of the Oriental and the Western [it is unknown to which design he was referring]; it does not satisfy me in its proportions or in its outlines. . . .

“The next is rather a confused composition, which after all, has no beauty, and that is the first test that you have to apply in any work of art, I don’t care what it is, a painting or a building, the test you must apply is that of beauty, and I think that test might apply to a religious structure as well. . . .

“This one (Mr. Remey’s design and model) here, I am frank to say I do not care very much for. It hasn’t any particular beauty of silhouette. . . .

“That one leaves me quite cold [;] if a design does not give me a thrill, it isn’t any use, and that doesn’t thrill me a bit.”

Only two designs drew favorable comments, one merely because Mr. Magonigle felt the “‘great orb resting on the top of the construction’” to be “‘extremely attractive.’” He then commented on Louis Bourgeois’ large plaster model, which was displayed in an adjoining room:

[Page 30]

“Now, the design in the other room has some tremendous possibilities. It is very very curious, it is like nothing that I have ever seen before. It has that quality of universality which Mr. Mills has talked about—it is rather something new, to which Mr. Mills has referred, and it is very difficult for me to refer it to any known period of architecture except possibly the modern note that has growth [sic] up in Chicago under Louis Sullivan. Yet, there are certain structural features about it which are more than questionable. I think the whole upper part should be revolved for a part on its axis so as to bring those buttresses down. At the present time these buttresses come down over the very openings through which you go. It does not satisfy the eye when these huge weights come down apparently to a void. Void over void, and solid over solid, is the principle of construction and is as old as the world, and however new the architecture may be, it has to keep its feet on the ground, and they must come all the way down to the ground although its head may be in the clouds. It is a tremendously imaginative work. It has elements of great beauty. There are certain things about it that are really extraordinary. This idea of a perfect dome, with a glass dome inside, and then a perforrated [sic] dome with lights between, inside of that, so that at night this thing would be lighted—the use of light, in itself, is a very wonderful and a very modern thing in architecture. From a practical point of view whether the snow and ice along Lake Michigan will reach into these crevices and ultimately tear it to pieces is a serious question; I am not at all sure that there are not certain features which in execution would have to be modified from a practical point of view, but as I said, the shape of the building is perfect, if you want a work of pure imagination—I think that of all the designs I have seen this design in the other room . . . is better than any of these other ones.”

Next Mountfort Mills introduced a Mr. Abbott, an engineer employed by the Fuller Construction Company, which a decade later would build the Temple superstructure. Mr. Abbott had been invited to the meeting to give information about the cost of each design. Despite his difficulty in determining costs without knowing the final dimensions of the building and the materials to be used, he was able to provide several rough estimates. With reference to Louis Bourgeois’ design he agreed with the architect’s suggestion to build the structure in stages. The foundation, he estimated, would cost between $100,000 and $200,000, depending on the type of ground upon which it was constructed.

During the afternoon session the delegates became enmeshed in controversy over the appropriate amount of money that should be spent. Corinne True noted that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had not provided specific guidance on this point:

“The only thing we ever had from Abdul Baha regarding costs happened one morning in New York in 1912 when Mr. Roy Wilhelm and I were talking with Abdul Baha and . . . Abdul Baha remarked at that time, ‘Do you know how much this will cost—it [Page 31] will cost over a million dollars. . . .’”

The delegates felt an urgent need to initiate construction; for they still hoped ‘Abdu’l-Bahá would return to lay a cornerstone, and they wanted to finish the building during His lifetime. Hence they did not want to wait for a significant increase in contributions before the design they selected could be started. Perhaps their sense of urgency inspired them the following morning to contribute nearly $13,000 to the Temple Fund.

Many letters from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá about the Temple were reread and discussed, for the delegates wanted to be certain their decision would be in conformity with His guidance. One delegate suggested that an “informal ballot” be taken to give everyone an insight into the collective sentiments of the delegates. Roll call was taken, everyone joined in a prayer for divine guidance, and the votes were cast:

The chairman of the ballot committee, Mr. McConaughy, reporting upon the vote, announced the result as follows: For Mr. Remey’s model plan, seven votes; for Mr. Remey’s No. 5 plan, the so-called Indian or Persian model, thirteen votes; Mr. Maxwell’s plan, one vote; Mr. Bourgeois’ plan, twenty-eight votes—making total of forty nine votes cast [nine delegates had already departed from the convention]. The chair announced that by this informal ballot the majority of the votes had been cast for Mr. Bourgeois’ plan and that the situation was now cleared for the formal action of the Convention.

Upon motion, it was duly moved, seconded and voted that the Convention now proceed to a formal ballot.

One of the delegates asked for recognition and suggested that “‘nothing would please ‘Abdu’l-Bahá more, in this present deliberation, than if we could make it a unanimous vote for Mr. Bourgeois’s model.’” Thunderous applause filled the room. When Mountfort Mills asked that “‘all those in favor of this motion will please rise,’” every delegate rose to his feet.

The major New York newspapers immediately printed articles about the Bourgeois design. A columnist for the New York Times suggested that “‘Americans will have to pause and study it long enough to find that an artist has wrought into this building the conception of a religious League of Nations.’” An art critic for the New York American wrote, under a banner that proclaimed “Bahai Temple Strikes New Art Note”:

Many persons who have seen the model for this building . . . say that the great Temple will be the most beautiful modern structure in the world. Some go so far as to say that it will be the most beautiful structure ever erected. . . .

The Bahai Temple of Peace combines within itself all the lovely elements of all the types of architecture that man has ever devised. This may at first sound rather discouraging to students of art who know how inspirationless eclectic works usually are. If a painter tries to combine all the good points of all the schools of painting he invariably gets a picture that is tame and uninteresting. It is the individual method that counts.

But, after looking at Mr. Bourgeois’ model for his beautiful Temple, listen to him explain, in a voice trembling with enthusiasm, [Page 32] just how he came to combine all styles of architecture in his design:

“The Bahai Movement,” says Mr. Bourgeois, “is a fusing of the essential spiritual elements of all religions and all philosophies. . . . All the teachings that have held the minds of men and ennobled them are found to be very much alike in essence. The doctrines of Christ, of Buddha and of Mohammed greatly resemble each other. As with religions so it is with architecture. If you resolve the different architectural systems to their idealistic basis, laying aside all extreme forms, you will see that they harmonize so perfectly that they can be blended without one discordant note. That is what I have tried to do in the Temple of Peace—to combine all architectural modes into a symbol of the Bahai Movement.”

The news of the Temple design spread quickly to other cities. The Washington Post, under an impressive second-page banner entitled “An Architect Who Was Inspired By The Stars,” printed an extensive article that began, “Half the history of the world is written in the temples that men have erected in honor of their gods.” The article went on to give an historical overview of the world’s religious structures. Listed were the “more notable of the American religious edifices. . . . These are constructions singular and marvelous: But now a temple more singular and more marvelous than any of them is about to arise in the city of Chicago.” The closing paragraph of the article contained a puzzling and amusing statement: “It is expected, too, that the venerable prophet, Abdul Baha, will come from Syria and take up his residence in the great nine-sided temple to be built in Chicago.”

Photographs of the model and news releases were issued by the Underwood Press (also known as Underwood and Underwood), a news service akin to the present-day Associated Press. These releases appeared in the majority of daily and weekly newspapers throughout the country. Several magazines and special-interest publications also reported on the Temple and the religion that gave it birth. The Unitarian Church’s Christian Register, for example, said, “‘Wonderful as the architectural design of the Temple is, those most concerned in its erection see in the universal service it will render to mankind its supreme importance. The Bahai message is primarily a message of unity. It recognizes the divine elements which underlie all great world religions.’”

By autumn 1920 the story of the Temple had reached the shores of Europe and Asia. One of the longest of the published statements appeared in newspapers in several distant cities, including Tokyo and Honolulu:

A new creation of transcendent beauty has dawned upon the horizon of the architectural world. The model of the great Bahai Temple . . . is being visited by increased throngs, and it has been the object of professional, artistic and general interest. . . . Like many—indeed most—of the great art productions, this has come from one who has endured the struggle, against discouraging deprivation and deferred hopes, but the universality of the praise bestowed upon the model finally evolved must bring the fullest degree of recompense for years of battling against depressing odds. . . .

It is to be a temple of peace, whose broad portals of welcome and encouragement to devotees of any and every religion shall be always open. . . .

. . . [Compared with] its spiritual appeal

[Page 33]

[Page 34]

the famed beauties of the Taj Mahal and the Alhambra grow strangely pale.

THE TEMPLE design evoked countless enthusiastic reactions from individuals. The brilliant Persian Bahá’í scholar Jináb-i-Fáḍil, sent to America by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to visit every known Bahá’í community, and lecturing to thousands of people in churches, universities, and organizations, discovered that the Temple had become “one of the greatest teachers” of the Faith. As soon as every one of his lectures was concluded, “innumerable souls rushed to the platform and with joy in their faces said, Oh, yes, we have read in our papers, in our magazines, in our Literary Digest[,] in the art paper, all about this international temple and we are heart and soul with this idea and hope that it may be founded in the speediest possible manner.”

The Executive Board of the Bahai Temple Unity created an Ideas Committee in 1920 to utilize the Temple project in order to expand the public’s awareness of Bahá’í principles and to increase contributions from Bahá’ís. The enthusiastic chairperson of the nine-member committee was Martha Root, who had recently returned from a three-month trip to South America, where she had made scores of friends in city after city and had secured editorials about the Bahá’í Faith in many influential newspapers. After her appointment to the committee she sent to every Bahá’í community letters that encouraged her coworkers to strive for creativity:

Abdul Baha will give inspirations for His Temple. The treasuries of ideas and treasuries of funds to put those ideas into being are waiting to be revealed, only it requires faith and severed hearts. . . . “wrestle with God” for one idea every day for the Temple. . . . If you begin tomorrow it may be too late. This letter for ideas is sent to you to ask you to reply . . . with the first best idea that comes to you—and then please keep right on sending them.

Soon a variety of activities was under way, and several special subcommittees were operating, including: Certain Money Plan Ideas; Advertising Committee; Children’s Group Plans; Publicity Group; “Hands of Service”; Moving Picture Group; Music Committee; Stereopticon Slides; Circular Letters to Other Organizations Group; Plays Committee; Bulletin News; and a Prayer Group Committee.

In March 1921 Martha Root launched a project of her own in which she addressed letters to several prominent citizens in many nations:

My dear Brother in the Service to Humanity:—

Acting on the principle that great humanitarians are always interested in what other successful uplift men think of Universal Movements, this letter is to ask you if you will write in a few words what effect you think the basic principles of the Bahai Cause (enclosed herewith) are having in the spiritual emancipation of humanity.

The letter then sketched briefly the life of Bahá’u’lláh, stated the principles of the Bahá’í Faith, described the Temple and its purpose, and concluded with an invitation:

The book that I, as a world newspaper and magazine writer, and an ardent Bahai, am writing to promote this Cause, and as a pure gift to the Temple, is just the setting forth of the basic Bahai principles, a vivid history of the Bahai Movement, and letters [Page 35]from Kings, governors, heads of the greatest business firms, architects, philanthropists. The object is to show what you and other successful men of affairs think of this Bahai Cause as a means to bring the spiritual emancipation of the races.

Would you not consider it a privilege to send me a few lines telling what these principles are doing. Your word, united to the tremendous power of the great ocean of Creative Thought will help the multitudes. God gives you opportunity to be a means through whom this Universal plan can come into operation.

The audaciousness of Martha Root was remarkable. It would serve both the Temple and the Faith well in years to come.

Shortly after the 1920 convention, the Bourgeois model was placed on public display at the Kevorkian Gallery, a Persian rug center in New York. Thousands came to view it. As one newspaper noted, “Musicians, artists, poets and editors have fallen victim to the lure of its spiritual beauty and masses of the lay public have been enthralled by its magnetism.” “Mr. Bourgeois’ model of the Temple . . . ,” recorded one Bahá’í, “has created quite a sensation. All sorts of big people go there to see it. I hear it whispered around down there that some rich people want to build it here in New York.” Among the prominent visitors to the model was George Grey Barnard, a famous American sculptor, who “‘pronounced it “the greatest creation since the Gothic period.”’” Mary Hanford Ford, a Bahá’í who was a widely respected authority on literature, art, and music, wrote, “‘[Barnard] believes it will be built not only in Chicago, but in its full size on Fort Washington Heights in New York, where a group of millionaires will place it as an illustration of what religion has become to humanity.’”

Another visitor to the gallery was Luigi Quaglino, a former professor of architecture from Turin, Italy, who intended to make a “‘brief survey.’” After studying the model for three hours, “and for two hours without speaking,” he said, “‘This is a new creation which will revolutionize architecture in the world, and it is the most beautiful I have ever seen. Without doubt it will have a lasting page in history. It was a revelation from another world.’”

One well-known writer on religious drama, Mozo Samuel, remarked that “‘Prior to this time no architecture has made any deep impression upon me, but this Temple model has thrilled me, and I desire to visit it again and be alone with this marvelous creation.’” Another writer, a theatrical magazine editor, criticized the model as “‘“decidedly over-decorated”’” and “‘“an . . . [absurdity] in its full size.”’” “‘He was something of a scoffer,’” Mary Ford recorded, “‘and had evidently heard unpleasant things about the Bahá’í movement.’” When the usher explained the “‘significance of the decoration,—how each line and curve was an expression of a great thought or a noble principle, so that all the spiritual tradition and future aspiration of the human race seemed embedded in this Temple,’” his attitude softened. “‘His eyes began to shine . . . and though he came to stay five minutes, he was in the heavenly presence two hours and left it regretfully. Now he has opened his magazine to a monthly article on the Bahá’í Movement.’”

In early 1921 the model was transported west to be exhibited with a model of the soon-to-be-famous Wrigley Building at an architectural exhibition at Chicago’s Art Institute. The exhibition was held in the same building that, in 1893, had housed the World’s Parliament of Religions, where the Bahá’í Faith was first mentioned publicly in North America. In the first week the model was seen by thirty-four [Page 36] thousand people, who “crowded around the glorious model, spellbound.” A Bahá’í who “saw it for the first time in the quiet peace of the evening” said, “‘That Temple came from Heaven. What marvelous lines! What celestial Beauty! Just to stand before it is a Spiritual Experience. It is so Pure! So Holy! like the Worlds of God!’”

An artist from Paris was “awed as by a heavenly vision” and thought that it was “the most beautiful building I have ever seen in all the world.” One woman suggested that it reminded her of “our dreams of fairyland, its tracery is so ethereal.” Another said, “‘Just to enter the Temple will bring the Peace that passeth understanding.’” Some of the visitors studied the details for hours and were moved to ask, “‘What does it stand for? Tell us about it.’” The interest in the Bahá’í Faith aroused by the Temple model was perhaps surpassed only by the attention given to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá during His American visit. “If the model so gloriously proclaims the Cause of Unity . . . ,” wrote Louise Waite, “what will the Temple itself accomplish? It will attract the people by tens of thousands to the New Kingdom of GOD which has descended among the nations.”

The American Bahá’ís still needed to seek ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s approval for the Bourgeois design. Hundreds of thousands of dollars would have to be raised. And the methods for constructing the building had to be determined. Nonetheless, seventeen years after the project began, the Bahá’ís had a design for their Temple.

[Page 37]

Sensibility

If I were blind

how could I know

if you were white

as fresh, cold snow

or black, as polished onyx’ glow?

If I were deaf

how could I hear

if your words were

foreign to my ear

or in my language, strong and clear?

I would be fortunate to try

to see things through the heart’s own eye

and listen for love’s silent song.

—Deborah L. Bley

Copyright © 1983 by Deborah L. Bley

---

Upon Flying Puffer Kites for Inge

Look at our daughters kiting with the wind,

their eyes like sea light; my childhood’s

caught in them, in wires humming to Tucson sun—

string, tail, paper as tight as prophecy.

I do wrong traveling childhood with plastic

kites; fat, over-blown shapes can’t own

telephone wires.

A kite won’t be anything without God, either.

The silent sorrow of a hand tugging string,

pushing love higher than the birds is God.

Puffer kits, bright bodies dead as angels,

wail and moan doing all they can to fall.

—Cal E. Rollins

Copyright © 1984 by Cal E. Rollins

[Page 38]

[Page 39]

The Poor in America: A Visionary Assessment

BY JUNE THOMAS

Copyright © 1983 by June Thomas

An earlier version of this paper was presented at a regional meeting of the Association for Bahá’í Studies, Louhelen Bahá’í School, Davison, Michigan, on 1 May 1983.

Every human being has the right to live, . . . a right to rest, and to a certain amount of well-being. As a rich man is able to live in his palace surrounded by luxury and the greatest comfort, so should a poor man be able to have the necessaries of life. Nobody should die of hunger; everybody should have sufficient clothing; one man should not live in excess while another has no possible means of existence.

—‘Abdu’l-Bahá

THE UNITED STATES of America is a land of contradictions, a nation full of the best and the worst of modern society. Its revolution, though mercantilist in origin and motivation, has encouraged people of other nations, plagued by despotism, absolutism, and oppression, to rebel against domination and to establish constitutional governments. Its creative response to a crippling Depression helped lay the foundation for the modern welfare state. Blessed with myriad natural and human resources, it developed technological innovations that dazzled the world, and established a standard of living undreamed of by most of the world’s population.

Yet, despite these advances, the United States has serious problems. It does not meet the needs of the poor, even though it has immense wealth. It is one of the most racially repressive societies known to modern mankind. It is the center—even the wellspring—of a rampant secular materialism that currently engulfs the Western world. And it is one of two major military powers that threaten to destroy the globe by perpetuating a senseless arms race.

It is not easy to rectify the ethical dilemmas of life, whether of one’s personal life or of the multiple life of the nation-state. Traditionally, religion has served as the guidance system for resolving ethical dilemmas, but the complexities of modern life are such that words of divine guidance issued millennia past cannot always offer self-evident solutions for today. If this were not so, good people of the same religious faith would not differ so vehemently about modern issues such as birth control and nuclear disarmament. Of the world’s major religions, only the Bahá’í Faith, founded in the mid-nineteenth century, offers solutions to current problems, both personal and global, and directly addresses the particular needs and promise of the United States of America. Indeed, the writings of the key figures in this new world religion delineate clearly the basic contradiction of the goodness and the evils of modern America.

‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the leader of the Bahá’í Faith after the passing of His father Bahá’u’lláh, the Faith’s prophet-founder, wrote that “the American continent gives signs and evidences of very great advancement. Its future is even more promising, for its influence and illumination are far-reaching. It will lead all nations spiritually.” While chiding the Persian government in 1875, He held up America as a counterexample to its backwardness, noting that “Today throughout the five continents of the globe it is Europe and most sections of America [Page 40] that are renowned for law and order, government and commerce, art and industry, science, philosophy and education.” During a trip to America in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave still another indication of the importance of this country; “America,” He stated, “hath developed powers and capacities greater and more wonderful than other nations. . . . The American nation is equipped and empowered to accomplish that which will adorn the pages of history, to become the envy of the world, and be blest in both the East and the West for the triumph of its people.”

In contrast with this positive view of America, Shoghi Effendi, the grandson of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá and Guardian of the Bahá’í Faith, wrote a sobering assessment of the nation in the 1930s:

It is precisely by reason of the patent evils which, not withstanding its other admittedly great characteristics and achievements, an excessive and binding materialism has unfortunately engendered within it that the Author of their Faith and the Center of His Covenant have singled it out to become the standard-bearer of the New World Order envisaged in their writings.

The choice of America as standard-bearer of the future, therefore, was made in spite of the fact that it was a country “immersed in a sea of materialism, a prey to one of the most virulent and longstanding forms of racial prejudice, and notorious for its political corruption, lawlessness, and laxity in moral standards.”

The intent of these passages is clearly one of extremely qualified praise. America has great potential, but it also has great problems. It may become a truly magnificent nation, but this depends, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá says, upon a steadily progressive system of lasting reforms:

The world of politics is like the world of man; he is seed at first, and then passes by degrees to the condition of embryo and foetus, acquiring a bone structure, being clothed with flesh, taking on his own special form, until at last he reaches the plane where he can befittingly fulfill the words: “the most excellent of Makers.” Just as this is a requirement of creation and is based on the universal Wisdom, the political world in the same way cannot instantaneously evolve from the nadir of defectiveness to the zenith of rightness and perfection. Rather, qualified individuals must strive by day and by night, using all those means which will conduce to progress, until the government and the people develop along every line from day to day and even from moment to moment.

Speaking to Persia, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá warned that “If . . . they mean this, that in each generation only one minute section of the necessary reforms should be attended to, this is nothing but lethargy and inertia and no results would be forthcoming from such a procedure, except the endless repetition of idle words.”

Surely America remains in need of reform, and reform of the systematic and lasting nature proposed by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. But the spirit of reform is not alive and well. In fact, the American political and economic system is not well. In recent years inflation, high employment, industrial automation, capital disinvestment, and shifts in employment patterns from manufacturing to services and retailing have drastically transformed the American economy. This economic transformation, which is also evident in other Western, industrialized nations, has led to a number of derivative problems germane to this nation’s reluctance to undertake meaningful reform. One derivative problem is a decline in government’s ability to govern. America, like many other modern political systems, seems unwilling to correct either gross inequalities [Page 41] in its market system or social costs (once viewed as noneconomic costs) such as worker obsolescence, environmental pollution, or persistent poverty. As a result, it only initiates paradoxical efforts at benevolence and charity.

As the government’s inability to solve social problems or control its economy becomes clearer, its leaders tend to focus even more on global political conflict in order to divert attention to foreign policy. At times this international bravado, which can be likened to a confrontation between gunslingers, sufficiently preoccupies the population; at other times it does not. In many countries of the world festering discontent may lead to revolution, rapid government turnovers, or territorial wars. In America they foster a high degree of voter apathy, a cynical lack of faith in the integrity and ability of public officials, periodic foreign policy crises, and dissension over the goals toward which society should be moving. Disillusionment over past efforts at reform, coupled with disagreement over goals, blocks meaningful resolution of domestic social problems. In the United States domestic problems are further complicated by the long-standing specter of racial prejudice and conflict. Consequently, one finds the paradox of America passing civil rights legislation that has been so indifferently enforced as to make many of the laws useless. One also finds policies and programs designed to address problems of poverty, but so piecemeal and disjointed in implementation that they leave entire groups of people unassisted, and so misguided in theory that they aggravate symptoms rather than address causes.

The status of the poor shows how much improvement is needed. What follows is an assessment of the nature and extent of poverty in the United States in the 1980s, an exploration of the relationship between poverty and the failure to find work, and an analysis of the steps necessary before America can claim the virtual elimination of poverty in its midst.

Poverty

Know ye that the poor are the trust of God in your midst. Watch that ye betray not His trust, that ye deal not unjustly with them and that ye walk not in the ways of the treacherous.

—Bahá’u’lláh

THAT the poor exist in America is undeniable. Some do try to deny it—or rather, some seem to feel that poverty is a temporary problem, somewhat like a troublesome juvenile who will grow up if only left alone. Yet poverty persists. Easily accessible statistics expose the profile of poverty in America quite clearly, for some twenty years ago, the United States established a mechanism—the official poverty level—to measure the incidence of poverty. The mechanism has numerous flaws, but it does provide a rough measure of the number of people in acute economic distress. In 1981 slightly over 227 million people lived in the United States. Of this number, 31,822,000, or 14 percent, fell below the poverty level. Of all U.S. families 13 percent, or approximately 6,851,000 families, fell below poverty level. This is a decrease since 1959, when over 17 percent of all families were poor, but an increase from 1974, when only 8.8 percent of all families fell below poverty level. In just one year, from 1980 to 1981, the number of people below the poverty line rose by over two-and-a-half million people. Although progress has been made since the 1950s, poverty is not going away; in fact, it is rising, at least temporarily.

In addition, the burden of poverty is not evenly distributed in the population. The incidence of poverty was higher in 1981 for families [Page 42] in rural areas (where 15.2 percent were poor) and families in central cities (16.7 percent) than it was for suburban families (7.7 percent). Statistics for central city individuals, as opposed to families, are astounding: 11,231,000 central city residents, or 18.0 percent of all central city residents, fell below poverty level. Rates for various central city subpopulations were higher still: 28.2 percent of all unrelated elderly people over sixty-five, or 789,000 people, and 27.8 percent of all children under eighteen, or 4,478,000 children. These are the poverty rates for the total central city residents including all blacks, whites, and others. Breakdown by race reveals that blacks are disproportionately poor. Of all black central city residents, 34.3 percent were poor, which is almost three times as high a proportion as the 12.7 percent of white central city residents who were poor (although in absolute numbers there were more white poor people than black). Especially disturbing is the fact that over 46 percent of all black children in these areas came from poor families (see Figure 1).

It appears that people are more likely to be poor in America if they live in a central city than if they do not, if they are very young or very old rather than adults of working age, and if they are black instead of white. It is also clear that the sex of the head of household is important. Households headed by females are particularly vulnerable.

Poverty does exist in both rural and urban areas, but most poverty is concentrated in central cities. At one time poverty was the most prevalent in rural areas, but the decline in farm population and the simultaneous rise in agribusiness have reduced the numbers of the rural poor. In 1959, 56 percent of the poor in the United States lived in nonmetropolitan, rural areas. By 1979 only 38 percent did, while the majority of the poor lived in metropolitan areas. Years of racial segregation and white flight have generated entire tracts of urban land inhabited only by the black poor. Especially in large, older, central cities, the physical effects of chronic poverty are apparent to millions of people who pass through aging ghettoes and declining working-class suburbs daily to reach oases of employment in central business districts. To noncommuters, or to commuters who use screened and walled expressways, poverty seems invisible; it exists nonetheless.

Moreover, poverty and an unequal distribution of income have continued over the years. In 1981 if one lined up the entire population of the United States, ranked according to family income, and divided it into five equal parts, the fifth, or quintile, containing those of lowest income would have only 5.0 percent of the income, while those in the highest, or wealthiest, quintile would receive 41.9 percent of the income. This is only a modest improvement over 1947, when the lowest quintile received 5.0 percent of income, and the share of the highest quintile was 43.0 percent. The proportion of national income received by the lowest quintile has not increased at all (see Table 1).

Table1
Shares of Total U.S. Family Income
by Quintiles: 1947 and 1981

	1947	1981
Lowest Quintile*	5.0%	5.0%
2nd Quintile	11.9%	11.3%
3rd Quintile	17.0%	17.4%
4th Quintile	23.1%	24.4%
Highest Quintile	43.0%	41.9%

* A quintile is a group composed of one-fifth of the population if ordered according to income. The lowest quintile is the poorest group.

Source: U.S. Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Money Income of Households, Families, and Persons in the U.S.: 1981.

[Page 43]

Figure 1
How Poverty Affected U.S. Subpopulations
1981

SOURCE: Adapted from U.S. Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Characteristics of the Population Below Poverty Level, 1980.

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The reason that poverty persists is hotly debated. For a long time many people felt that the poor remained poor because of personal shortcomings. According to this view it was their own fault that the poor did not achieve in a society that treasures individual achievement and the myth of Horatio Alger. This attitude— that the poor were dirty, lazy, undeserving, or unambitious—allowed the larger population to feel little guilt about the state of the poor. Charities and settlement houses administered to their needs in some fashion, and during the Great Depression cities set up soup lines and emergency housing. But only with the crushing burden of millions of impoverished unemployed did the nation collectively act to establish welfare. Yet polls taken during the late 1930s showed that the majority of middle-class white Americans believed most poor people could get off relief if they tried hard enough, in spite of the fact that the Depression remained a harsh economic reality. Poll respondents began to distinguish between “deserving” unemployed and “reliefers,” “pampered poverty rats,” and “good-for-nothing loafers.” Popular jokes and songs identified the Okies—farmers displaced from their livelihood in the plains states who then became migrants—as shiftless and slothful. Okies were said to sing “Merrily we dole along, dole along, dole along, across a [Page 44] dark blue sea.” Stereotypes once applied only to blacks and paupers had shifted to include farmers formerly considered self-reliant yeomen.

Not surprisingly, however, those who had always been poor knew how to adjust to difficult circumstances. On the one hand, the new Depression poor, who had once been middle class or who had held steady jobs, were overwhelmed by unemployment and developed profound, even suicidal, feelings of shame and defensiveness. The old poor, on the other hand, who had never had steady jobs, developed a very pragmatic attitude. Since they had never had economic security, harder times did not change their basic self-concept. E. Wright Bakke, author of a 1940 book about unemployment, noted that the old poor “merely . . . altered tactics in view of the fact that the source of maintenance had been changed” and seemed better able to accept life on welfare. Some even became quite adept at manipulating the welfare system by hiding new purchases or sources of income. While others cried out against such welfare “chiseling,” Bakke saw such an attitude as merely a sign that workers were intelligently coping. An unreported monetary gift from a relative, for example, did not greatly change the economic status of the recipient; nationally, almost all welfare recipients have always received less than would be necessary for a minimum standard of living. The mentality displayed was no different from the mentality of middle-class taxpayers who neglect to report all earned income.

In the 1960s the perception of the poor as undeserving was transformed into the view that the poor were mired in a “culture of poverty.” This more modern version of the perception of the “undeserving poor” was especially attractive to academics who could see that poor minorities and Appalachian whites did, indeed, seem different from the rest of the population. Oscar Lewis, otherwise a sensitive observer of poverty, illustrated the view in the following statement: “Once the culture of poverty has come into existence it tends to perpetuate itself. By the time slum children are six or seven they have usually absorbed the basic attitudes and values of their subculture. Thereafter, they are psychologically unready to take full advantage of changing conditions or improving opportunities that may develop in their lifetime.” Although Lewis said that perhaps only one-fifth of all poor exhibited these characteristics, the label “culture of poverty” gained great usage as a more refined way of blaming the poor for their conditions. The danger of the perspective was that it implied that after a child was six or seven poverty was an inescapable state, one that stayed with him for life and was passed on to succeeding generations. It also implied that the poor were poor because of a culture that encouraged people to live in the present rather than to plan for the future (an inclination that scholars call present-mindedness), that discouraged high occupational ambition, and that fostered a number of psychological shortcomings.

Critics pointed out the weaknesses of these explanations of poverty. No studies could prove that any group of people was psychologically different from any other group. Did the poor focus too much on the present? What was the difference between the poor and the middle class that was buying large amounts of consumer goods on credit? Poor poeple could hardly be expected to display less present-mindedness than the rest of society, or to develop long-range goals that were beyond their means. Was poverty intergenerational? A major University of Michigan study published in 1962 showed that the long-term poor were only a minority of the poverty population. More than one-third of people who were poor in any one year were not poor in either the previous [Page 45] or following year. Furthermore, over the nine years of the Michigan research, only 22 percent of the poverty population was poor throughout the study period. Other studies of occupational mobility showed that the majority of the sons of fathers with low-status jobs ended up in higher status jobs.

Scholars in the field began to recognize that “culture” could not be blamed for poverty and that many of the characteristics observable in the poor were adaptations of a difficult status in life. Far from being disorganized as some believed, life, even among the poorest, displayed remarkable structure. Cultural anthropologists wrote books describing the nature of the poor that included much more in-depth intimate observations than could studies by social scientists armed only with census data and survey questionnaires. One anthropologist, Elliot Liebow, participated in black street-corner life in Washington, D.C., in preparation for his book Tally’s Corner. He concluded that the generational poverty he observed was not a “puncture-proof” culture, but rather stemmed from racial discrimination. According to his research:

Many similarities between the lower-class Negro father and son (or mother and daugher) do not result from “cultural transmission” but from the fact that the son goes out and independently experiences the same failures, in the same areas, as his father. What appears as a dynamic, self-sustaining cultural process is, in part at least, a relatively simple piece of machinery which turns out, in rather mechanical fashion, independently produced look-a-likes.

Research by other anthropologists reinforced Liebow’s perspective. Charles and Betty Valentine were an interracial couple who lived for five years in a decrepit, roach-infested apartment in a poor, black neighborhood of a large Northern metropolis. Although the resultant book by Charles Valentine is better known, Bettylou Valentine’s book reported findings that offered extraordinarily personal insights. She suggested that impersonal census data be viewed with extreme care. The apparently high number of female-headed households, for example, may reflect a deliberate survival mechanism: male partners preferred to disappear when census takers or welfare workers appeared. The real problem for their neighbors, the Valentines found, was surviving in a world where employment opportunities were sharply limited and the welfare system grossly inadequate. Given the circumstances, they managed to cope quite well, in part by combining work, “hustles,” and welfare. She concluded that the black ghetto residents created lifestyles that were the result rather than the cause of poverty.

Contemporary attitudes of those who are intolerant of lifestyles created by poverty are remarkably similar to attitudes many well-off Americans expressed during the Depression. Often people who “hustle” are displaying pragmatic adjustment to what others would consider hopeless circumstances. In fact, the poor do not enjoy being poor; when factory jobs open up, long lines form in anticipation of occupational improvement.

Enlightened writers and thinkers now realize that poverty continues not so much because of a lack of motivation as because of a number of interrelated factors. These include not only the burden of past poverty but also the cumulative effects of racism, the difficulty of growing old in America, and the malfunctioning of an economic system that apparently cannot provide work for all of its able-bodied citizens. The findings of scholars, however, have not necessarily influenced popular opinion, which tends to focus on the fraction of the poor who represent long-term poverty or poverty connected to personal flaws (such as alcoholism) as typical of the poverty population. The number [Page 46] of “welfare queens” living royally off fraudulently obtained money vastly expands in the public mind. Ignoring (or unaware of) data to the contrary, many view those receiving welfare as loafers and believe the most important task of government is to remove cheaters from welfare rolls, in spite of the fact that recent crackdowns on welfare fraud have revealed a very small percentage of cheaters. The public calls for putting welfare recipients to work even though only a small percentage are employable and even though a large proportion of the poor are working, yet still fall below the poverty level because their jobs pay too little or do not allow them to work full time. Politicians only reflect the views of their constituents, and so lack of compassion by the average citizen translates into lack of support for the needy. It is difficult for any government to progress beyond the mentality of its citizens.

America is capable of ensuring a minimum standard of living for all citizens and has been for some time. Lyndon Johnson, president of the United States from 1963 to 1968, was so sure that he could do so that he declared a War on Poverty. Yet his effort was more a scrimmage than a war—the expenditures for that poverty war were only 51.6 billion in fiscal year 1967, whereas the war in Vietnam cost $54.2 billion in the same year—but the programs set into motion by Johnson did begin to reduce the level of poverty. In-kind transfer programs such as food stamps and housing assistance provided necessities of life. Educational programs, such as Work Study and Headstart, and employment training programs, such as Job Corps, began to provide resources and opportunities for youth, in part to attack the ill-conceived “culture of poverty,” but also to teach concrete skills that would enable them to compete in a modern economy. Some of the programs were successful; others were not. Many of the employment training programs, for example, taught antiquated skills that did not help in the modern job market. Toward the end of the Johnson administration, the Vietnam War claimed more of the president’s attention than did the War on Poverty, and succeeding presidents have not been sympathetic to the campaign.

But the effort paid off, at least in some small way, and during the 1970s more than a few analysts began to note a decline in statistical indications of poverty. Some believed that the poor would automatically become better off as the economy grew. Others noted, however, that poverty may have been declining but that the distribution of income was becoming more and more unequal. In 1977 Robert Haveman, a prominent scholar of poverty and income distribution, suggested that, in future years, economic inequality would replace income poverty as a primary social problem because of several trends: a decline in income poverty (at that time); a highly unequal distribution of income stemming, in part, from the growing spread between high and low earnings recipients in the labor market; and demographic changes such as the growing tendency of individuals to maintain separate living units instead of remaining in larger family units. Economist Lester Thurow also pointed to unequal distribution of earnings as a real problem. He noted that when the nation is divided into five groups or quintiles based on salary earnings, rather than income, the bottom quintile of workers received only 1.7 percent of total salary income in 1977, compared with the 48.1 percent received by the highest quintile. In contrast, in 1948 the lowest quintile received 2.6 percent of salary earnings, while the highest group earned 49.3 percent. According to this criterion, then, the relative status of the lowest paid workers is declining.

Whether the problem is economic inequality or poverty, the programs the government provides are lamentably inadequate to deal [Page 47] with either. The War on Poverty programs, while well-meaning, operated on the false assumption that only the poor needed to be changed (presumably because of their “culture of poverty”). They did not manage to do that, and they made little attempt to change the nature of society in which the poor had to live. The outstanding characteristics of the welfare and income maintenance programs of the 1960s and 1970s were, according to one author, “inconsistency, inefficiency, and inequality.” Policy makers designed programs that targeted specific categories of people (such as families with children); people who did not fall within designated categories did not benefit at all. The patchwork nature of the programs meant that benefits varied by state; hence equally poor families received grossly different treatment depending on where they lived. For example, the U.S. government funds several noncash benefit programs to assist lower-income citizens, such as food stamps, subsidized housing, Medicaid, and free or reduced-price school lunches for school-aged children. Yet these programs do not benefit all those in need. In 1981 only 41.1 percent of all poor families received food stamps. Of all poor families with children from five to eighteen years old, 62.6 percent received school lunch benefits, but only 23.7 percent of all poor families who were renters were able to live in publicly owned or subsidized rental housing. Large proportions of the poor do not receive such benefits because of chronic shortages (such as housing) or because administrative red tape discourages eligible applicants from applying for and receiving benefits (such as food stamps).

In recent years budget cutbacks have limited even more severely the assistance that government provides for poor families. Both income maintenance and in-kind programs such as housing assistance have been reduced, and temporary shelters and soup lines have again appeared in American cities. Among both policy makers and citizens the attitude seems to prevail that government does not have a special obligation to try to reduce poverty.

Much more could be said about this issue. It is a topic of bitter partisan debate, though it should not be. The real question is not which political party is in office, but how well the citizens and leaders of America, no matter what the party, are fulfilling their obligation to care for the poor and to reduce poverty and human misery. Partisanship is superfluous, for the question is one of moral consciousness.

Means of Livelihood

Every person must have a profession, whether it be literary or manual, and must live a clean, manly, honest life, an example of purity to be imitated by others. It is more kingly to be satisfied with a crust of stale bread than to enjoy a sumptuous dinner of many courses, the money for which comes out of the pockets of others.

—‘Abdu’l-Bahá

POVERTY shapes and molds the quality of life of its victims. The poor and the near poor, in spite of federal medical and food programs, are not so likely to receive the same quality of medical care and nutrition that others do. Education in poor neighborhoods is inadequate and has been for years. Many must cope with shoddy housing, in spite of a national goal, in existence since 1949, of providing “a decent home and suitable living conditions for every American family.” Federal housing and rent supplement programs provide about two million rental units, yet approximately six million households live in physically inadequate or crowded housing units. Of all the manifestations [Page 48] of poverty, however, one of the most agonizing is the inability of the poor to obtain sufficient work. With work, with a means of livelihood, people can overcome many other problems—they can buy food or health care, for example, or rent decent housing. Without work little is possible.

The provision of work alone, however, will not eliminate poverty. Many of the poor in the United States are over sixty-five years of age— in 1980, almost four million of the twenty-nine million poor people were elderly. Many more are physically or mentally incapable of work— almost three million people below the poverty level responded to the U.S. Census Bureau inquiries that they did not work in 1979 because they were “ill or disabled.” Other poor people are single parents with young dependent children in the home—in 1980, over four million of the total number of poor were children under six years of age. When one adds in the seven million or so children that ranged from age six to eighteen, it becomes evident that over eighteen million (18,148,000) of the twenty-nine million poor in 1980 were old people, invalids, or children. The figure would be even higher if one were to include the single parents of young children. These numbers alone should clearly temper the extremist who advocates the elimination of the welfare system. They also indicate that, even with the immediate upgrading and employment of all poor adults with children eighteen years and under, at least seven million unemployable poor would remain.

One must also be careful to recognize that unemployment and poverty are not synonymous. Our system of unemployment benefits is such that quite a number of the unemployed are not poor. Of eighteen million workers suffering some form of unemployment during 1979, only 14 percent belonged to families that fell below the poverty level, although, to be sure, many more suffered a great deal of economic difficulty. Of the workers who worked part time involuntarily, only 13 percent lived with families below the poverty level. A 1979 Department of Labor study showed that the connection between unemployment status and poverty depended upon the composition of the worker’s family. For workers in families headed by a married couple, low earnings by one adult did not necessarily lead to poverty. But the poverty rate reached 51 percent for families headed by women who could only find part-time work. Unemployment or partial employment also posed a hardship for men who maintained families without a wife and for persons who lived by themselves.

Unemployment and poverty are not synonymous, but they are certainly related. The incidence of poverty clearly changes in direct relation to the work record of individuals. Of all people over fifteen years old in 1979, only 2.5 percent who worked full time lived in poverty, compared with 11.1 percent of all who only worked from one to four weeks during the year, 15.8 percent of those who only worked from fifteen to twenty-six weeks, and 20.7 percent of those who did not work at all in 1979. The record for black adults was worse in every category; for example, 46.4 percent of blacks who did not work at all were poor, and, again, the fewer the weeks worked, the greater the incidence of poverty.

Official unemployment rates are highest in those very areas and among those people for whom poverty is highest. In December 1982 the official unemployment rate was extraordinarily high in cities such as Flint, Michigan (22.2 percent), and Cincinnati, Ohio (16.8 percent). [Page 49] Consistently the unemployment rates for central cities far exceed those for suburban areas, and unemployment for blacks always surpasses unemployment for whites of the same age, typically by a margin of two to one. In December 1982, when the unemployment rate for all white males sixteen years and over was 8.0 percent, the rate for all black males sixteen and over was 20.2 percent and for blacks from sixteen to nineteen, 48.2 percent. Furthermore, official unemployment rates underestimate the problem, since they only include workers “in the labor force,” which is defined to mean workers who have looked for work within the previous four weeks. In many cities, workers have simply become discouraged and have given up the search for work altogether. These people, referred to as “discouraged workers” in U.S. Bureau of Labor statistics publications, do not appear in unemployment statistics; if they did, unemployment rates would be much higher. The heart of the matter is that such extreme changes have occurred in the economic system of the United States that, if present trends continue, many of these adults will never find jobs.

The problem is partly spatial and partly structural. As we have already indicated, high concentrations of the poor can be found in central cities. In urban areas for generations the factories and other industries provided the major source of employment. In the past few decades, however, these industries have relocated in the suburbs or in other regions or countries, or they have disappeared altogether.

The flight to the suburbs came first. Manufacturers and retailers moved to the outer reaches of metropolitan areas, as did middle class residents, in search not only of space for more modern forms of operation but also of suburban amenities such as parking space, greenery, and new public facilities. The data for Cleveland, Ohio, illustrate this process. In 1947 the Cleveland metropolitan area, including the suburbs, offered 274,800 manufacturing jobs, 81 percent of which were located in the city. By 1967 the city retained only 56 percent of the area’s manufacturing employment; by 1980 this proportion had fallen to 41 percent, or 107,400 manufacturing jobs. The remaining 154,500 manufacturing jobs were located in the suburbs around Cleveland.

To a certain extent workers followed these establishments, and to a certain extent they led the way. The federal government accelerated the whole process by providing both highway construction that facilitated decentralization and tax incentives that spurred construction of new housing and commercial or manufacturing establishments. Some workers, by choice, remained in central cities near older factories, but others could not move. Blacks, for example, were barred from free suburban mobility by an intricate web of restrictive covenants, real estate steering practices, and exclusionary zoning. Currently economic restrictions have virtually replaced racial restrictions, but the results are the same. Central city workers often cannot get to potential jobs simply because they cannot get to the suburban factories and other places of business. Urban public transportation facilities are designed for mobility within cities, or from suburbs to central cities, [Page 50] rather than from central cities to suburbs.

While restrictive metropolitan mobility is one aspect of the problem, it is certainly not the entire problem. In recent years jobs have left not only central cities but also suburban areas and entire regions of the country. Wooed by southern states devoted to low wages and restrictions on unions, whole companies have shifted from northern metropolitan locations to southern semirural locations. Sometimes such industries move on to other countries; at other times they become parts of multinational corporations. Those that stay in America have started playing a war game in which state governments bid against each other for the favors of the latest footloose industry, using as “weapons” tax incentives, industrial parks, and direct loans and grants.

The spectacle of Whole families living in cars while parents search for the latest fountain of employment is living proof of the fact that the problem of unemployment today is more than spatial. The structure of work in today’s America is fundamentally different from the structure of work thirty, twenty, or even five years ago. Employment has shifted steadily away from the manufacturing sector. In Ohio, manufacturing employment fell by 11 percent between 1970 and 1980, while service sector employment rose by 48.6 percent. In New York, manufacturing employment dropped by 17 percent during the last decade, while service employment rose by 24.3 percent. Even in those states that experienced an increase in manufacturing employment, the increase was not nearly so great as the increase in the number of service sector jobs.

Durable goods manufacturing, which includes the automobile industry, no longer provides guaranteed careers for able-bodied youngsters with high school diplomas or less. Between Janury 1979 and December 1980 domestic automobile manufacturers closed or announced the closing of twenty facilities employing a total of fifty thousand workers. Overall, the direct and indirect effects of the automobile industry downturn in just those two years may have been the loss of anywhere from 350,000 to 650,000 jobs. In other industries plant shutdowns have also rippled across the nation, devastating the ranks of blue-collar workers.

As better paying blue-collar jobs have diminished, white-collar service sector jobs have increased. But the jobs tend to be either extremely low skilled, such as food service jobs, housekeeping, and other personal services, or highly skilled, such as banking, law, finance, real estate, and education. The evidence is clear that the growth in the service sector has come from highly skilled jobs. Yet many workers do not have the skills or education to compete for these jobs. This means that the United States has a large number of workers who are rapidly becoming obsolescent. Technological change is taking place at such a pace that those who do not have new technological skills are falling farther and farther behind.

Current trends are especially difficult for black workers. It took a number of years to overcome blatantly discriminatory patterns that kept black workers from obtaining highly paid factory jobs. During the period of heavy industrialization between 1900 and 1950 white workers used labor unions as protectionist cartels. As recently as a few years ago blacks found it difficult to enter the skilled trades because of racial discrimination and of the nepotism that characterized those occupations. And yet, just as blacks reached the point that blue-collar [Page 51] work became an accessible route for upward mobility, such work began to decline markedly.

William Julius Wilson, a black sociologist, argues that the problem for lower-class blacks is no longer a matter of simple racial oppression by whites. Middle-class blacks have been able to make rapid advances upward, partly because of antidiscriminatory legislation. But the patterns of past racial discrimination have created a large black underclass that has not been benefited from policies such as affirmative action. Wilson suggests that the technological and economic revolution of the contemporary United States has combined with the effects of discrimination to create a virtually permanent state of poverty for the black underclass.

A Vision

It is clear . . . that man’s glory and greatness do not consist in his being avid for blood and sharp of claw, in tearing down cities and spreading havoc, in butchering armed forces and civilians. What would mean a bright future for him would be his reputation for justice, his kindness to the entire population whether high or low, his building up countries and cities, villages and districts, his making life easy, peaceful and happy for his fellow beings, his laying down fundamental principles for progress, his raising the standards and increasing the wealth of the entire population.

—‘Abdu’l-Bahá

THE VISION is clear. All must work toward a society characterized by justice, peace, and tranquility—society in which racial equality prevails, the basic needs of all citizens are provided for, and work is available for all.

What is the path to such a society? That, too, is clear. At a minimum all must work for the development of clear, concise goals for the improvement of America based on principles of justice, equity, and compassion, and for the spiritual transformation of the populace.

This path may not be as difficult as it may first seem. Lester Thurow asserts that no conflict necessarily exists between economic success and the alleviation of economic inequality. In fact, he suggests that “lack of investment planning, worker participation, and social spending may be the cause of our poor performance.” Between 1972 and 1978 industrial performance rose by 4 percent in West Germany and by 5 percent in Japan, but by only 1 percent in the United States. Yet, as measured by the earnings gap between the lowest and highest groups in the populace, West Germany operated with 36 percent less inequality than the United States during this period, and Japan with 50 percent less inequality.

No one denies that the task of reducing income inequality is easy. It requires both direction and will. No one gains unless someone else loses; all must be willing to lose a little so that others may gain. The nation must operate within a framework of national goals that place social improvement above all else. Certain social planners have been saying this for some time. When a country stresses only economic planning, or only military planning, it falls short of the mark. As Richard Bolan commented, “At the very least, for the 1980s, economic planning should be carried out in the context of social planning rather than the other way around. . . . The quality of life, the justice of the social order, and the opportunity for human self-actualization and fulfillment are more crucial goals than gross national planning, profitability and material output. The material goals of economic planning are poor proxies for the more fundamental goals of human welfare.”

The material goals of economic planning do indeed pale before the goals of human welfare; yet the public pays insufficient attention to these goals. Were America to aim for the goal of satisfying the basic needs of its citizens, whether by improving their welfare or by providing a minimum income, it could be done. Were it to aim for the goal of reducing income inequality within the populace, it could be [Page 52] done. Were it to aim for the goal of ensuring the availability of work, that too could be done. All of these measures are necessary components of the task of eliminating poverty. But America would have to lift itself above the petty squabbles surrounding welfare programs and domestic politics.

Economic goals and goals for human welfare must be motivated by equity, justice, and compassion. In dealing with the problem of urban poverty it is impossible to imagine any progress without a fundamental recognition of the role of racial and class prejudice and the need to eliminate the effects of such prejudice. A sense of justice requires that society at least attempt to undo the deleterious effects of the past and to prepare for a future unhampered by the burden of race and class prejudice and divisiveness.

It is equally impossible to imagine any progress in remedying the debilitating system of poverty without will, for the problem is not one of knowledge alone. If society willed it, the United States could establish comprehensive, humane societal planning. If society willed it, the country could substantially reduce poverty, or expand the labor market, or stop ceaseless and draining preparations for war, or accomplish any number of tasks. Without social will nothing can be achieved. With social will, which comes with spiritual maturity, a spirit of reform is inevitable.

Social will depends upon improving the individual, and improving the individual depends upon spiritual enlightenment. In this task we may draw guidance from the example of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Who was praised by all nationalities and creeds for His exemplary behavior and Who never showed any sign of negative judgment of the poor. On the contrary, He told listeners, “I am in love with the poor,” and warned that Bahá’u’lláh had “admonished all that we must be the servants of the poor, helpers of the poor, remember the sorrows of the poor, associate with them for thereby we may inherit the kingdom of heaven. . . .” A model of personal selflessness, ‘Abdul’l-Bahá thought nothing of inviting a passing shepherd to sit and share a meal, and it was entirely in character for Him to give His own clothes to those in need. He instituted virtually a one-man welfare system in ‘Akká, where the poor daily gathered under His window to receive a coin or two. Anyone sick in bed—whether Moslem or Christian or of any other religion—was likely to receive a visit from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, and if the person were poor, He would pay for a physician and send food as needed. Such selflessness is indeed rare in modern society, and yet His is not an impossible standard of behavior.

With the spiritual enlightenment of the populace will come improvement in government. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá has explained that “The primary purpose, the basic objective, in laying down powerful laws and setting up great principles and institutions dealing with every aspect of civilization, is human happiness; and human happiness consists only in drawing close to the Threshold of Almighty God, and in securing the peace and well-being of every individual member, high and low alike, of the human race; and the supreme agencies for accomplishing these two objectives are the excellent qualities with which humanity has been endowed.”

The wondrous vision of the good society can be reached. It will take effort, but the rewards are glorious.

[Page 53]

Authors & Artists

DEBORAH L. BLEY, a registered nurse with experience in intensive care and public health work, is now a housewife and a writer. She has contributed extensively to Child’s Way and Brilliant Star.

CAL E. ROLLINS, now a civil-rights analyst, has worked for many years for the Bureau of Indian Affairs, most recently at the Institute of American Indian Arts in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where he taught creative writing and chaired the humanities department. A frequent contributor to World Order, Mr. Rollins’ poems and short stories have appeared in a number of magazines.

JUNE MANNING THOMAS is an associate professor at Michigan State University with a joint appointment in the urban planning and urban affairs program. She has published articles on the effects of tourism and land development in South Carolina, urban displacement, and racial discrimination and urban minorities.

BRUCE W. WHITMORE, the administrator of the Bahá’í House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois, has for the past decade been researching the history of the unique structure that was entered in the National Registry of Historic Places in 1978.

ART CREDITS: Cover, design by John Solarz, photograph by Delton Baerwolf; p. 1, photograph by Grace Nielsen; p. 7, photograph by George O. Miller; p. 8, photograph by Anthony Verderosa; p. 17. photograph by Camille O’Reilly; p. 18, photograph courtesy Bahá’í Office of Public Affairs; p. 25, photograph courtesy National Bahá’í Archives; p. 33, photograph courtesy National Bahá’í Archives; p. 38, photograph by Dudley Stokes.

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