Theosophy and Bahá’í: Sociological Pattern of Radical Movements shift to Apoliticism and Quietism

There is a sociological pattern of radical movements that shift into quietism. The case is the same in the early historical roots of both Theosophy and modern Bahá’ísm. The Báb’s movement (1844-1850) was anti-clerical, against the Qajar state, socially disruptive, apocalyptic, critical of the state and militantly involved in armed struggle. Bahá’u’lláh and later ʻAbdu’l-Bahá adopted an apolitical posture, while Bahá’u’lláh’s younger half-brother Ṣobḥ-e Azal maintained the revolutionary, anti-establishment ethos of Bábi roots with its anti-state attitude, seeing political injustice as a spiritual problem, and resistance to unjust rule as moral. Like Sayyid ʿAlī‑Muḥammad Shīrāzī (the Báb), Azal taught a distinctive non‑clerical, gnostic philosophy within the Bábi movement, that diverged from the, at the time, emerging Bahá’í orientation. These are movements, once advocating rebellion, that strategically shift toward pacificist universalism and withdrawal or “detachment” (even insolation), and there is a historically contextual, sociological and psychological reason these movements shift that explains dilution, stagnation, even encouraging cult behavioral patterns. One of the reasons I explained, was that the Theosophical Society in the nineteenth-century was being surveilled by police in South Asia and other regions, who were making sure it stayed out of politics, or risked being shut down (before the Communists, National Socialists and Fascists arose).

The irony, that I have noted about this apoliticism in Theosophy is that it begins as a movement that once challenged empire, church, and scientific materialism, to one that sees itself as ʿsupra-political.’ There is no such thing in this world as supra-political, or that is above the political and the mechanisms of power. The claim by any movement is a delusion or a mask to the degree it produces deep contradictions about how its action or passivity benefits existing power structures, effectively neutering the original impulse of the movement leaving it to the whims of karma, God, etc. The founders were immersed in ideological and political battles as a counter-cultural and anti-establishment movement fiercely anti-clerical, anti-imperial, sympathetic to revolutionary and nationalist causes, encouraging intellectual rebellion and ethical revolution against Western materialism. The Bahá’í would become reframed in the shift from revolutionary Bábi movement partly as a means of survival during persecution to universal ethics and non-involvement in political activism.

In order to seek legitimacy and even reinvent itself, a movement that survives its founders will often distance themselves from its radical origins and establish new administrative structures. The universalism dilutes the radical element, giving way to humanitarian ideas and unity rhetoric. In this environment, critical analysis or critique of religion becomes seen as unbrotherly, but both movements despite this, still carry implicit political stances and subtle forms of control and authority. An example of this is in the Bahá’í Faith ideal of world federalism and global governance. It is law-focused, similarly to the Sunni branch of Islam, as opposed to the Azalīs and Bayānī (followers of the Bāb’s original esoteric revelation called the Bayān who represent the esoteric Shia Ismaili core of Bábi roots). Azalīs and Bayānī thought is suspicious of universalist systems and views religion as carrying revolutionary implications. The stance of quietism and apolitical universalism itself functions as a protective shield but is political posturing and hides subtle ideological agendas, or a means to avoid confronting real suffering. In the case of the Theosophical Movement, as it continued to pivot during Blavatsky’s time towards apoliticism, after her death, the stance gave way internally to an intensified messianic narrative, more willing to literalize symbolic teachings, as in the case of the early Bahá’ís’.

We live in a time politicians are publicly declaring their political decision-making is governed by their belief in apocalyptic, messianic prophecy and accelerationism. The various Mahdi and messianic claimants and movements between the seventeenth and twentieth-century provide us with lessons. It is not only in our time that a messianic fever has affected the political sphere. This case reminds me of the issue between Raj Patel and Scottish teacher, Benjamin Creme. Creme also insisted his message was not political, yet it carried implicit political themes such as a world teacher guiding humanity, global unity, redistribution of resources and international cooperation. Creme’s movement claimed to be above politics, yet its messianic figure was expected to intervene in global economic systems — an explicitly political domain. It embodies a perfect case study on messianic expectations entering real-world politics, and how this converges with the strategic claim to be “above-politics.”