On the night of the 9th of Muḥarram 61 AH — the night before ʿĀshūrāʾ — Imām ʿAlī ibn Ḥusayn, later known as Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn رحمه الله, was present at Karbala. He was ill with a severe fever that prevented him from fighting. He lay in the camp and heard everything: his father Sayyiduna al-Ḥusayn رضي الله عنه releasing the companions, their refusals, the night of prayer, the sounds of worship that the classical sources compare to the buzzing of bees. He could not join the fighters. He could only witness. And what he witnessed — on the night of ʿĀshūrāʾ and on the day that followed — he carried for the rest of his life, channelling it entirely into the prayer and devotion that earned him his titles.
What He Witnessed
Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn رحمه الله lay feverish in the tent while the camp prayed through the night around him. He heard his father’s voice in supplication. He heard the sound of a small community making its peace with Allāh ﷻ before the morning that would take them. On the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ itself, too ill to rise and fight, he was forced to hear the battle from within the tent — the sounds of combat, of calls for help, of the fall of men he knew. The classical sources record that he heard his father’s voice grow weaker until it was silent. He heard everything. And he survived to tell it.
The Prayer That Followed
Everything Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn رحمه الله had witnessed at Karbala — the grief he carried, the guilt of survival, the loss of his father and his uncles and brothers and cousins — he poured entirely into worship. The classical scholars who described his devotion consistently connected its extraordinary depth to his experience as Karbala’s surviving witness. His thousand daily rakʿahs were not the practice of a man seeking recognition — they were the practice of a man who had nowhere else to take what he had seen.
The Ṣaḥīfah al-Sajjādiyyah as Karbala’s Fruit
The Ṣaḥīfah al-Sajjādiyyah — the collection of his supplications — reads, in some of its most powerful passages, as though written by a man who knows what it is to lose everything except Allāh ﷻ. The supplication for times of hardship, the supplication for grief, the supplication when wronged — these carry within them the weight of a man who sat in a tent at Karbala and heard his world end. He did not rage. He did not abandon faith. He turned to Allāh ﷻ. The Ṣaḥīfah is the record of that turning — and it is one of the most beautiful documents the Islamic tradition possesses.
His Later Declaration on ʿĀshūrāʾ
Classical sources preserve a statement attributed to Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn رحمه الله about the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ: “This is a day of sorrow and grief for us, the household of the Prophet ﷺ — a day on which our enemy celebrated and which we mark with lamentation.” He described it as a day the Banū Umayyah treated as a day of celebration while his family treated it as a day of grief. His statement helps clarify the Sunni position: grief on ʿĀshūrāʾ for the Ahl al-Bayt is not a Shia innovation — it is the position of the Prophet’s own grandson who survived the day.
What did Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn witness on the night of ʿĀshūrāʾ?
He was ill in the camp and unable to fight. He heard his father Sayyiduna al-Ḥusayn رضي الله عنه release the companions, heard their refusals, heard the camp in prayer through the night. On the day of ʿĀshūrāʾ he heard the battle from within the tent and survived. This experience of total helpless witness shaped the extraordinary depth of his subsequent worship and his supplications.
How did Karbala shape the Ṣaḥīfah al-Sajjādiyyah?
The Ṣaḥīfah al-Sajjādiyyah — particularly its supplications for hardship, grief, and the experience of being wronged — bears within it the weight of a man who survived Karbala. Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn رحمه الله channelled the totality of his grief and his witness into prayer and supplication. The Ṣaḥīfah is the record of a heart that refused bitterness and chose, again and again, to turn toward Allāh ﷻ.
What did Imām Zayn al-ʿĀbidīn say about ʿĀshūrāʾ?
He described it as a day of sorrow for the Prophet’s household — a day their enemy celebrated while they grieved. This statement, preserved in classical sources, establishes that grief on ʿĀshūrāʾ was the position of the Prophet’s own grandson who had witnessed the events firsthand — not a later addition to the tradition.