Word: mullah
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...week's end, some 200 members of the fanatical Fedayan Islam charged through Teheran's streets to the Shah Mosque, knifing six policemen on the way, shouting: "Stokes, take your proposal to the grave with you." Mullah Kashani, spiritual leader of the terrorists, unblinkingly told Stokes, who came to pay a call: "Tell the British government that if Dr. Mossadeq deviates one iota from oil nationalization, the Iranian people will dispatch him to the next world...
Blood in the Streets. The immediate cause of Hajir's difficulties was the implacable opposition of top-ranking Mullah Kashani, who calls himself "pontiff and religious head of Moslems in the Middle East." As the highest Persian religious leader he was a power to be reckoned with. Kashani has hated the British ever since they sentenced him to death for resisting their move into Iraq after World War I. Now Anglophobe Kashani denounced Hajir as a "British spy." "Blood will run in the streets before we accept this man," said Kashani...
During a big Jinnah public meeting in Lahore, a mullah (priest) lashed out, during his preliminary prayer in the Urdu language, at women who violate purdah (seclusion). Fatima, sitting a few feet from the mullah, with her face, as always, unveiled, did not take in the criticism; neither she nor her brother (who was sitting on a golden throne high above the crowd) speaks Urdu, the language of Jinnah's western domain...
...mirrors of the Imperial Hotel's grand ballroom, 300 of his followers could watch themselves sipping orange pop and looking bored, as the mullah on the stage mumbled a long recitation from the Koran. Then Jinnah rose. Smiling his death's-head smirk, he held up a hand to quiet the thunderous applause. Instantly, it stopped...
...Carnival Week, as in any week, the most spectacular figure in Memphis was still 71-year-old Mister Crump. When he passed, in a gleaming new Chrysler, sidewalk idlers gawked as if they had spied the Mad Mullah of Tud, nose ring and all, cracking pecans on the Hope Diamond. Ed Crump did not ignore them. As he rode on casual journeys through his domain he watched the pavements as sharply as a kingfisher hunting shiners; his pink face lighted at the first sign of recognition. If people turned, he snatched a wide-brimmed grey hat from his ear-long...