aryobarzan
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Fair enough....let's tackle them in ur order..I am all ears..lol
Revival of ancestral links between Iranians and Kurds and Parsis picking up pace around the world
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Baibars_1260
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Ok so let's go to the first question.
First we must get our terminology right.
1.Indians
When we refer to "Indians" in my
response we are referring to
Indians of the majority Hindu
religion of the upper caste in
Northern India. Much of India's
foreign policy is determined by
this group as they have a very
firm hold on the political
environment. Indians today
would refer to those resident in
the territory of India today.
2. Hindutva and Hindutvadi
Hindutva ( pronounced " Hind -
oot- va " ( ہندُتوا ) is a religiously
fundamentalist fascist ideology
based on Hindu supremacy, very
much like Nazi ideology with
which it closely identifies.It is the
dominant ideology of the regime
in power in India today.
Hindutvadi pronounced
" Hind -oot- vadi " ( ہندُتوادی ) is the
adjective describing an Indian
adhering to the Hindutva
ideology .
Not all Hindus adhere to the Hindutva ideology, and not all Indians are Hindutvadis, just as not all Nazis were Germans and not all Germans were Nazis.
The Hindu Muslim divide and how it started :
Islam arrived in India first in the south when Arab traders settled off the Malabar coast in what is now the modern Indian province of Kerala in the middle of the 7th century and the first mosque was built around 628 C. E.
There were other Arab settlements in Western and South Western India. These Arabs married into the local Hindu population adopting the culture, language, cuisine and lifestyle and completely forgetting their Arab roots. The Arabic language was in use only for the purpose of prayer and scriptures. Even the Friday prayers sermon ( taqreer تقریر ) was in the Malyali language.
In the North the impact of Islam was more sudden. It started ostensibly as a dispute between the Umayyad Caliph and the Hindu kingdom in Sindh ( Modern Pakistan) over rampant piracy in the Arabian sea and the Persian Gulf. The Umayyad Caliphate accused the Hindu kingdom in Sindh of providing shelter to pirate ships in ports off the Sindh Baluchistan coast. The pirates were raiding Arab merchant vessels and also passenger ships carrying pilgrims for Hajj. These pilgrims were mainly from the settlements in South Western India. they Whatever the truth of this allegation is , it led to a war ( 711 C. E.) in which the Hindu kingdom was defeated, The Arabs under Mohammed Bin Qasim briefly occupied Sindh but then after Bin Qasim's death lost the territory to the Hindu princes for three centuries until it was recaptured by Mahmud of Ghazni.
in 1001C.E.,The Ghazni empire from Afghanistan was based off the Samanid Persianate state, Even though Mahmud was Turkic the court language was Persian.
Prior to Mahmud's arrival there had begun the influence of Sufi mystics in Sindh which propagated a syncretic tolerant faith., The subsequent arrival of Mohammed Ghori ( 1192 C.E,)
Thus now Islam in India had two origins. The Arab origin south and the Persianiate North West.
The predominant power lay with the Farsi speaking militant Turko Afghans ruling Delhi. Farsi was destined to be the language of communication for 600 years.
(To be continued)
Markandeya
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Fire must go on.
The Concept of Akhand Jyoti is part of Hinduism. Fire is very important element of Hinduism and all ancient religions. New Bees are New Bees and here today and gone tomorrow OTOH.
Baibars_1260
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(Note : It is not possible to put the entire history of the next 600 years into one post but we can go over events that resulted in the present divide.)
The establishment of the Turko Afghans dynasties in India was only possible with alliances with Hindu princes, and kingdoms. The objective of every so called "Muslim " dynasty ( Turko-Afghans) was to rule in an alliance. Preaching Islam was the last thing on their agenda. While the central rule was in Delhi and some other cities where there were governors, the actual rule over the population was by loyal Hindu Rajput princes. An alliance with a local Rajput Hindu kingdom was much more valuable then an alliance with the leaders of
a converted population which was much more likely to pose a challenge and usurp power. The Turko Afghans were familiar with the intense rivalry in the lands ( Khorasan, Khwarzim, Iran) from which they had themselves migrated or fled. Much to their annoyance migrant Sufi mystics began following the trade caravans and began learning local languages and preaching Islam to the the lower caste Hindu population. This was resulting in the rise of a Muslim population that was not the elite Turko-Afghan speaking Farsi, but a local population with Indian roots, and now outside the centuries old established caste system ; and which was singularly disloyal to their Rajput overlords. The territory of what is now Pakistan converted gradually over a couple of centuries to a syncretic Sufi Islam retaining much of the local culture and folklore, but also blending in the Farsi language and Khorasan culture. The Delhi Sultanate desperately tried to stop the drift arresting, and executing the Sufi scholars, and preachers.
They were temporarily distracted by the threats from the Mongols which persisted for a 100 years from the mid 13th to the mid 14th century. The converted Muslim population of the territory of what is now Pakistan suffered terribly at the hands of the Mongols who viewed all Muslims as a threat.
The Mongols depopulated most of what is now Pakistan through massacres and enslavement and driving out huge numbers as refugees. Even though the partisan resistance from the population to the Mongol invasion was bitter and relentless the Delhi Sultanate realized that the only way the Mongols would be defeated is by a huge military campaign. The Sultans appealed to their Hindu Rajput allies for help. The Mongols reached out to the Hindu Rajput princes hoping that as "Non-Muslims" they would join the Mongols in overthrowing their Muslim Delhi Sultanate partners. Amazingly, the Hindu kingdoms and their people refused, and in remarkable solidarity with their Turko Afghan rulers fought the Mongols, dealing out a series of crushing defeats on them, and forcing them out of India and Afghanistan. This was a stellar example of Hindu Muslim unity in the face of a common threat that was to be seen again in the future.
In the relative calm of the post Mongol invasion, the Turko- Afghan culture took solid roots in India. and was not confined to people of one faith. Hindus learned Farsi, and a new language Urdu began to develop. Muslims learned Sanskrit and every local language and dialect in India, translating pre-Islamic literature and documents in the sciences such as Physics, Chemistry, Mathematics, Biology and Medicine. There was even a fusion of faiths where small sects such as Kabeer Panthism sought to blend Islam and Hindu spirituality.
But the Delhi Sultanate eventually did manage to limit the spread of Sufi order Islam to North Western India in what is now Pakistan).
( to be continued)
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OldenWisdom...قول بزرگ
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Now this is interesting, I had suspected something similar without any implicating evidence... So, yours a second opinion does give credence to a suspension and I'd appreciate if you could share or site something to substantiate such conviction. Of course I'm talking about unwillingness, inability or mere incompetence of rulers to see spread of Islam or even interest in enlightening their new subjects of rulers new faith. Of course Christianity and Zoroastrianism didn't find same apathetic approach and they were and remain more sophisticated than claptrap mumbo-jumbo of animism in India.
Sufi arrival in South Asia was partly because of hounding and abuse they're receiving in Middle East, syncretism of course taking them away from core beliefs and into fringe.
Baibars_1260
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Yes, I will conclude in my next post but I do wish to agree with you.
The Delhi Sultans had seen what had happened in Iran
centuries earlier when Arab exclusion broke down and Iranians converted. Once the issue of religion was solved it was cultural identity that came to the forefront and the Arab Ajam rivalry became permanent. Ultimately the Persian culture asserted itself. If there had been more conversions in India then an indigenous identity no longer hamstrung by caste would have asserted itself, and Central
Asian supremacy would not have survived that long.,Which is why the Naqshbandi and other Sufi orders that arrived in India were not welcome.,Indian Muslim identity would develop over the centuries in its regional variants. Unlike Iran India was not homogeneous with many different languages and cultures. Islam fitted into all the different languages and cultures.,Bangladesh is a classic case where Islam was immersed in a Bengali cultural matrix.
But this is a topic for another thread.
I need to move on to explain how the Hindu Muslim relations broke down.
Baibars_1260
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In the post Mongol era 1327, India remained relatively secure from an external invasion until 1397 when it was once again invaded, this time by Timur, who himself was of converted Muslim Mongol origin.
Timur's invasion was far more successful then the Mongol invasion a hundred years earlier resulting in the sack of Delhi and massacre of its inhabitants.
Though Timur's invasion ended the Tughlak dynasty he was unable to hold on to India. Like the Mongols before him his forces faced bitter joint partisan resistance by the population of India, both Hindu and Muslim. This was about the time the people of Iran were engaged in a similar separate struggle against Timur. After the departure of Timur a succession of Turko Afghan kings and dynasties followed with the final Afghan dynasty the Lodi dynasty coming to power in 1451 remaining in power till 1526.
At this point we must pause to reflect that there was significant growth in the Muslim population in Northern and North Western India including large pockets in Central and Eastern India. The population growth was through settlements, immigration, and natural growth rather than conversions. The process of Sufi inspired conversions had significantly slowed because as mentioned before none of the Turko- Afghan dynasties wanted another Turkey or Iran on their hands and were very unfriendly to
the Sufi preachers. But even here the Delhi Sultans had a difficult choice.
Ironically the acceptance and reverence of the Sufi preachers extended beyond the Muslim community, and they were revered by Hindus as well. Many of the Hindu princely allies of the Delhi Sultans were very enamored of the Sufi "aulia", some even to the extent of adopting their names into their tribes.
Example: A section of the Hindu Rajput warrior caste earlier known as Chandawats changed their name to Sheikhawat . The word "Sheikh" was substituted for " Chanda" ( moon) , when the Rajput King who had remained childless without an heir, was born a son ostensibly due to the blessings of the Sufi "Sheikh" Similarly the Persian word "Bahadur" was adopted by Hindu Gurkha warriors as a title reflecting their martial prowess. The title "Saheb" was widely used by Sikh and Hindu Maratha generals and military leaders.
In Southern India there was natural growth of the Muslim population through intermarriage and immigration inspired by Arab trade links. We will discuss South Indian Muslims separately later because they were not connected with the ruling alliance in the North which controlled India.
At this point of time there were shifting alliances, in the complex framework of rulers of India . There were Hindu princes with Muslim allies , and their armed forces had Muslim fighting men. Likewise there were Muslim princes with Hindu allies and Hindu fighting men in their armies. There were pockets of Muslim populations in Hindu majority areas ruled by Hindu princes.,Likewise there were Hindu populations in Muslim majority areas ruled by Muslim nobles. While disloyalty, to the local ruler or collaboration with enemy forces were severely punished, there is little evidence of populations being persecuted or oppressed because of their religion alone. Nor is there any substantial record of direct people to people Hindu Muslim clashes riots and pogroms .
The fusion and blending of languages and cultures continued.
The rural peasant Muslim populations were virtually indistinguishable from their Hindu counterparts, in language, and culture. The differences amongst the elite Muslims was more visible where Farsi was the common language in preference to Chagatai Turkish.By this time the Shia Sunni
rivalry was also beginning to manifest itself in the subcontinent.,
But the close interaction was also having an effect on the Hindu elite.
The dress changed as Hindu princes began to wear stitched clothes, turbans, and leather shoes.,Most important was the change in warfare.,Hindu armies adopted cavalry ( instead of chariots), chain mail armor, siege engines , curved steel swords.
In 1526 C.E. India faced another invasion from Central Asia when Babur arrived to overthrow the Afghan Lodi king and establish Mughal dynasty that ruled much of India till 1707 C.E. Unlike Timur the Mughals were here to stay. They rapidly built alliances with the Hindu princes, and at least two Mughal kings had married Hindu princesses. The environment was so syncretic that one Mughal even tried to develop a new religion by blending Hinduism with Islam to a new faith Deen -e-Elahi.,
Once again there were pockets of Muslim populations within a Hindu majority and vice versa, but there is no evidence of people to people communal rioting under their rule.
Any prince (Hindu or Muslim) that chose to defy the Mughal,
crown would be opening themselves to an attack and severe punishment. The Afghans with Hindu allies briefly seized power from the Mughals under Sher Shah Suri but lost it again when Humayun regained his throne. Some Hindu princes such as Rana Pratap and Hemu briefly resisted Mughal rule but ironically found themselves facing an alliance that itself had a Rajput Hindu component. The Mughal rule was even more inclusive than the Delhi Sultanate with the Commander in Chief of the Mughal Armies usually Hindu Rajputs.
There were numerous internal rebellions by Muslim allies and warlords based chiefly which ironically was subdued by Rajput Hindu commanders and their troops on behalf of their Mughal overlords.
In fact there was a religious factor of a different kind. The Mughal kings even with so much Hindu genes inside them through intermarriage were nominally Hanafi Muslims vaguely identifying themselves with Naqshbandi or Bektashi orders. Some Shia kingdoms had been established in South Central India by the mid 16th Century outside the boundaries of the Mughal Empire.
Mughal India was already locked in an imperial struggle with Iran on it's western borders vying for control of Kandahar. The Shiite kingdoms in the South were viewed as a threat. These were quickly attacked and subdued. Iran was a major threat to India will be seen later in post-Mughal invasions from Iran .
The Mughal Empire peaked in the mid 16th century. Many of the Mughal kings and princes had long ceased to be observant Muslims. Some were opium addicts or alcoholics and were more inclined to favor the pleasures of their courtesans than the face the rigors of military combat. Some chose to be scholars like Dara Shikoh who translated Hindu epics from Sanskrit to Farsi.
Before the flame of the Mughal Empire flickered and was extinguished it had a brief flare of glory. Aurangzeb the last great Moghul assumed power in 1628 C.E. making India the largest economy and militarily the most powerful country in the world.,
Many historians attribute the era of Aurangzeb as the time when the Hindu Muslim rift first began but as we shall see this came much later.
(to be concluded)
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The Effects of the Muslim Conquest on the Persian Population of Iraq
www.jstor.org
www.pgurus.com
The Effects of the Muslim Conquest on the Persian Population of Iraq on JSTOR
Michael G. Morony, The Effects of the Muslim Conquest on the Persian Population of Iraq, Iran, Vol. 14 (1976), pp. 41-59
www.jstor.org
Sattology: Understanding Islamic Conquest of Persia - PGurus
Persian Islam is almost the second version of Islam also known as Islam-I Ajam. It was the followers of this version of Islam that attacked India and other lands in the East.
www.pgurus.com
Parsis May Want to Look to the New Pune Fire Temple to Keep the Flame Burning
A 'half-Parsi' explains why Parsis must end their insistence on only marrying within the community and open the doors of their religion to the rest of the world.
Inside the fire temple in Pune. Credit: Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism
Anahita Mukherji
Born a little over a hundred years ago in Uttar Pradesh, my grandmother was both a devout and a highly-liberal Parsi; she wrote books on Zoroastrianism for children and railed against the orthodoxy. As a student at Bombay University over half a century ago – she went back for a college education when she was in her 50s – she once told her professor that she was frustrated over just how narrow and closed the Parsi community in India had become. Her professor said that change took time; a few generations at the very least.
My grandmother died just two weeks short of her 100th birthday. I wish she had been around to see a major change last week: the inauguration of a new fire temple in Pune whose doors will be open to people of all communities. This fire temple has been funded by well-known Parsi industrialists, lawyers and philanthropists, proof that many eminent members of the community are not represented by the orthodox elements.
The fire temple will perform marriage ceremonies for Parsis marrying outside the community as well as navjots (initiation ceremonies) for children of Parsis who marry outside the community.
This represents a tectonic shift in the way Zoroastrianism is practiced in India. Fire temples in India do not allow those of other faiths, or ‘excommunicated’ Zoroastrians, a term used for the children of Parsi mothers and non-Parsi fathers, to enter.
As a half-Parsi growing up in Mumbai, I was completely oblivious of my own excommunication. My mother would take me to fire temples in the city. On one occasion, as a child, a young priest at a fire temple was so impressed with the gusto with which I recited a series of Zoroastrian prayers that he even brought me a chocolate. He, too, seemed to have been ignorant of my ex-communicated status. As for my large extended family I inherited on the Parsi side, it simply was not interested; it has been meeting every year for the last 99 years, and includes non-Parsi spouses and children who are half-Parsi, quarter-Parsi and with other levels of ‘dilution’.
As a child, I remember how perplexed I was when a Parsi friend patiently explained why she would not marry a non-Parsi. This, when we were both only ten years old. She said that Hindus and Muslims “were all the same”, and had similar cultures, while Parsis were very different, and had a unique culture of their own, and so it would be better to marry within the community. Such is the level of indoctrination.
Inside the fire temple in Pune. Courtesy: Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism
While I find her views on Hindus and Muslims being the same rather delightful, its now increasingly clear that Parsis are driving themselves to extinction with their insistence on marrying within the community and their refusal to open the doors of their religion to the rest of the world. Sadly, the government of India recently funded the ‘Jiyo Parsi’ ad campaign aimed at getting young Parsi men and women to get married – to each other – and procreate to ensure the survival of the community – in the most regressive and patriarchal way.
With under 70,000 Parsis in India and a large ageing population, marrying within the community will not preserve an ancient culture; it will merely constrict the gene pool and result in diseased offspring. In-breeding is better suited to pedigree puppies. Or race-horses. It’s certainly not a good idea for human beings.
Parsis who married outside the community, as well as non-Parsis with Parsi spouses, have for long struggled to be a part of the funeral rites of their loved ones at the Towers of Silence, where bodies are eventually placed for vultures to feed on. But as the vulture population began to decline (a bit like the Parsi population), and bodies remained decomposing in the Towers, many Parsis moved away from such archaic practices and chose more sustainable ones, such as cremation and burial.
Barring non-Parsis from fire temples and funeral ceremonies will gradually be of little relevance, as there will be less and less people to bar. The community will have moved on, leaving the orthodoxy behind. Many charitable schools started for Parsi children today have barely any and welcome children from other faiths.
For years, the liberals have battled the lunatic sections of the Parsi right-wing over who can enter fire temples and who should be allowed for funeral rites. Gradually, the liberals seem to have grown weary of debating with a miniscule faction of racists and bigots, and are now fashioning a more egalitarian and open faith on their own. The opening of a new temple is part of that effort.
It’s a tad ironic that while fire temples in India have long closed their doors on non-Zoroastrians, those in Iran, where the religion originated, are open to people of all faith. I breezed into a fire temple in Tehran a few years ago with both a Hindu and a Muslim by my side. I’ve visited a fire temple in Pakistan, too, and photographed the priest and the sacred fire – there was no outcry.
While an association of Parsis in California is open to non-Parsi spouses, in Florida, a popular Parsi priest has a Catholic wife. Just the sort of flexibility that the community needs to survive. If India’s Parsis want to stave off extinction, they may want to look to the new Pune fire temple to keep the flame burning.
Anahita Mukherji is a former Assistant Editor with the Times of India is now based in the US.
I feel bad for half Parsi kids like Anahita. But the tenets of the ancient religion on the Behdin and the Juddin are quite clear. And cannot be tampered with or tweaked in the name of modern values or secular liberalism.
Cheers, Doc
A 'half-Parsi' explains why Parsis must end their insistence on only marrying within the community and open the doors of their religion to the rest of the world.
Inside the fire temple in Pune. Credit: Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism
Anahita Mukherji
Born a little over a hundred years ago in Uttar Pradesh, my grandmother was both a devout and a highly-liberal Parsi; she wrote books on Zoroastrianism for children and railed against the orthodoxy. As a student at Bombay University over half a century ago – she went back for a college education when she was in her 50s – she once told her professor that she was frustrated over just how narrow and closed the Parsi community in India had become. Her professor said that change took time; a few generations at the very least.
My grandmother died just two weeks short of her 100th birthday. I wish she had been around to see a major change last week: the inauguration of a new fire temple in Pune whose doors will be open to people of all communities. This fire temple has been funded by well-known Parsi industrialists, lawyers and philanthropists, proof that many eminent members of the community are not represented by the orthodox elements.
The fire temple will perform marriage ceremonies for Parsis marrying outside the community as well as navjots (initiation ceremonies) for children of Parsis who marry outside the community.
This represents a tectonic shift in the way Zoroastrianism is practiced in India. Fire temples in India do not allow those of other faiths, or ‘excommunicated’ Zoroastrians, a term used for the children of Parsi mothers and non-Parsi fathers, to enter.
As a half-Parsi growing up in Mumbai, I was completely oblivious of my own excommunication. My mother would take me to fire temples in the city. On one occasion, as a child, a young priest at a fire temple was so impressed with the gusto with which I recited a series of Zoroastrian prayers that he even brought me a chocolate. He, too, seemed to have been ignorant of my ex-communicated status. As for my large extended family I inherited on the Parsi side, it simply was not interested; it has been meeting every year for the last 99 years, and includes non-Parsi spouses and children who are half-Parsi, quarter-Parsi and with other levels of ‘dilution’.
As a child, I remember how perplexed I was when a Parsi friend patiently explained why she would not marry a non-Parsi. This, when we were both only ten years old. She said that Hindus and Muslims “were all the same”, and had similar cultures, while Parsis were very different, and had a unique culture of their own, and so it would be better to marry within the community. Such is the level of indoctrination.
Inside the fire temple in Pune. Courtesy: Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism
While I find her views on Hindus and Muslims being the same rather delightful, its now increasingly clear that Parsis are driving themselves to extinction with their insistence on marrying within the community and their refusal to open the doors of their religion to the rest of the world. Sadly, the government of India recently funded the ‘Jiyo Parsi’ ad campaign aimed at getting young Parsi men and women to get married – to each other – and procreate to ensure the survival of the community – in the most regressive and patriarchal way.
With under 70,000 Parsis in India and a large ageing population, marrying within the community will not preserve an ancient culture; it will merely constrict the gene pool and result in diseased offspring. In-breeding is better suited to pedigree puppies. Or race-horses. It’s certainly not a good idea for human beings.
Parsis who married outside the community, as well as non-Parsis with Parsi spouses, have for long struggled to be a part of the funeral rites of their loved ones at the Towers of Silence, where bodies are eventually placed for vultures to feed on. But as the vulture population began to decline (a bit like the Parsi population), and bodies remained decomposing in the Towers, many Parsis moved away from such archaic practices and chose more sustainable ones, such as cremation and burial.
Barring non-Parsis from fire temples and funeral ceremonies will gradually be of little relevance, as there will be less and less people to bar. The community will have moved on, leaving the orthodoxy behind. Many charitable schools started for Parsi children today have barely any and welcome children from other faiths.
For years, the liberals have battled the lunatic sections of the Parsi right-wing over who can enter fire temples and who should be allowed for funeral rites. Gradually, the liberals seem to have grown weary of debating with a miniscule faction of racists and bigots, and are now fashioning a more egalitarian and open faith on their own. The opening of a new temple is part of that effort.
It’s a tad ironic that while fire temples in India have long closed their doors on non-Zoroastrians, those in Iran, where the religion originated, are open to people of all faith. I breezed into a fire temple in Tehran a few years ago with both a Hindu and a Muslim by my side. I’ve visited a fire temple in Pakistan, too, and photographed the priest and the sacred fire – there was no outcry.
While an association of Parsis in California is open to non-Parsi spouses, in Florida, a popular Parsi priest has a Catholic wife. Just the sort of flexibility that the community needs to survive. If India’s Parsis want to stave off extinction, they may want to look to the new Pune fire temple to keep the flame burning.
Anahita Mukherji is a former Assistant Editor with the Times of India is now based in the US.
I feel bad for half Parsi kids like Anahita. But the tenets of the ancient religion on the Behdin and the Juddin are quite clear. And cannot be tampered with or tweaked in the name of modern values or secular liberalism.
Cheers, Doc
A Parsi art historian rediscovers his heritage on a trip across Iran
“Look at yourself: you’re a son of Persia. Welcome home.”
By Areez Katki December 14th, 2018
What do you mean you’re from New Zealand?” a shopkeeper in Mozaafarieh named Omid exclaimed. We were in the carpet quarter of Tabriz’s Grand Bazaar, and I had just told him that I was a Kiwi Parsi. “Look at yourself: you’re a son of Persia. Welcome home.” This was one of many similar reactions my Zoroastrian identity elicited in Iran. It made me teary, as I walked alone through the vaulted streets of the world’s largest covered bazaar.
The ancient mountain tomb Naqsh-e-Rustam, northwest of Persepolis
When I told my family I was going on a month-long trip to Iran, the seat of Zoroastrianism, they seemed puzzled. All my life, I had railed against the community and its insular, patriarchal nature, especially in India, where its racial and ethnic exclusivity had brought it dangerously close to extinction. (In Auckland, where I grew up, Parsis are just one of several minorities they embrace). It has taken me over two fraught decades since I was ordained as a mobed (Zoroastrian priest), at age 10, to reconcile the Parsi and queer aspects of my identity.
Zoroastrian women at Maryamabad Zoroastrian Colony, Yazd
But now I wanted to know everything there was to know about my community. In fact, I moved to Mumbai and began a project to immerse myself in learning about it, exploring Parsi myths, icons and practices. I’ve been using the medium of textiles for my work as an artist for approximately six years. More recently, through the framework of a personal journey, I’ve utilised craft skills such as needlework, which I inherited from the women in my family, in a hope to explore Zoroastrian identity through a more intimate, matrilineal perspective. The work will culminate in an exhibition at Malcolm Smith Gallery in Howick in February 2019, circling back to the suburb of Auckland, where I grew up. So, in an attempt to expand this odyssey trope, I decided to embark on a month-long solo road trip through Iran; I’d be the first person in my family to go back there.
Church of Saint Mary, Urmia, West Azerbaijan
Tehran was a confusing place to start. On the surface, it was chaotic and bare; none of the glamour, cultural diversity or freedom of expression that once deemed it the Paris of the East had survived the Islamic Revolution of 1979. Since the overthrowing of a liberal Persian monarchy, human rights such as free speech and personal expressions of faith have been infringed upon. But then one enters little discreet pockets of Tehrani society where you might find a café where women have pushed back their mandatory hijabs, or see a couple kiss, laugh and hold hands. And the more young people I met, most of them progressive and vibrant thinkers, the more I learnt that these small gestures were all signs of passive resistance.
Carpet weaving matriarchs, Kashan
Another such gesture is the adornment of the iconic Faravahar, in any shape or form, but most commonly as a pendant. The winged angelic symbol is a subtle reminder of a Zoroastrian Persia, which celebrated a brief revival during the Pahlavi period (1925- 1979), but has been suppressed (yet not outlawed completely) since the revolution. It can be traced all the way back to the height of the Achaemenid empire (550-330 BC), which is still celebrated as the Golden Age of Persian history, when great citadels like Persepolis, Susa and Pasargadae were built by hired, not slave, hands for the first time in ancient history. Its founder Cyrus the Great wrote the world’s first bill of human rights. He was also the only gentile mentioned favourably in the Old Testament, for his humanitarianism and for protecting secularism during Persia’s reign over Europe and Asia. Entering sites like the mountain relief tombs at Naqsh-e-Rustam, Persepolis and Pasargadae (where the tomb of Cyrus stands) were some of the most moving experiences for me. They were like great, imposing answers to what my nine-year old self had wondered about being Parsi. Pars (present-day Fars) is the region where Persepolis and its neighbouring archaeological sites are, and where the term Parsi comes from. A feeling of pride began to seep into me.
A wall of pure silk yarn, Tabriz
I also spent a week in Yazd Province. It was there that I sought the guidance of local Zoroastrians, who still live there in small communities, and invited me to join their little gatherings around the village of Maryamabad. My friends Bahruz, a priest, and his son Navid, a real estate agent, made sure that I got in everywhere through the special entrances reserved for us. “This is your homeland,” Navid said to me at one point, “you should not have to hide it or pay to visit our sites.” Despite the oppression the community has faced over the last millennia— forced to flee (as my Parsi ancestors did), convert or practise Zoroastrianism secretly under a totalitarian republic after the Arab conquest in the seventh century—there is an immense warmth and grace to be found here.
Hossain, one of the three Sohrabi brothers of Kashan, whose family has woven silk on these 500-year-old looms for generations
Chak Chak, also known as Pir-e-Sabz, is home to one of Zoroastrianism’s holiest mountain shrines, and is one of several sacred shrines or ‘Pirs’ around Yazd. There is one family that still tends and guards it, with a devotion that astonished me, considering the remoteness and the rough living conditions they have to endure in order to do it, such as scarcity of water and electricity.
Barberries, nuts and dry fruits at a bazaar, Tehran
Other Zoroastrian villages around Yazd provided incredible cultural insight, especially if one considers their status as the birthplace of monotheism and the globally beloved paisley motif. The latter was derived from an Achaemenid stone tablet illustrating the holy cypress tree standing tall and evergreen, against the force of the northern winds. Villages like Cham, Abarkuh, Mubarakkeh still house sacred ecological shrines, each dedicated to a different earth, water or air deity and sanctified by a sarv, or cypress tree. In fact, the Sarv of Abarkuh is considered one of the world’s oldest trees at over 4,000 years. Standing under its grand 26-metre high canopy was an awe-inspiring experience unlike any other.
Yazdi faloodeh, a delicate cold soup with rosewater and rice vermicelli
Iran was especially revelatory for me as a textile historian. I believe that my month there only scratched the surface of our rich craft traditions. In Yazd alone, I learned about sudreh and kushti weaving (the religious garments worn by Zoroastrians after their Navjote, or initiation ceremony), doozi needlework and handwoven Termeh textiles. Tabriz is known for its Grand Bazaar, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the carpet weaving capital of the world, whose rug weavers and pashim (wool, in Farsi) spinners are famous. Closer to the north, Kashan was once the world’s centre for the silk trade. This is where I participated in jacquard weaving sessions at the Ancient Crafts Centre and documented the Sohrabi brothers weaving on their 500-year-old looms.
Chak Chak, also called Pir-e-Sabz, is home to one of Zoroastrianism’s holiest mountain shrines
Carpets here also vary from region to region; my favourites were the West Azerbaijani tribal kilims: flatwoven by matriarchs and encoded with ancient Zoroastrian and Elamite symbols. Some of these icons are still visible in Susa (present-day Shush, the capital of Khuzestan province) where I braved 50-degree heatwaves and visited one of the world’s best-preserved Ziggurat pyramids at Tchogga Zanbil. It is a pre-Zoroastrian Elamite citadel that is also notably the first site in modern-day Iran to gain the UNESCO World Heritage Stamp). Such were my attempts to tie archaeology in with theological studies and textile practices. From what I could observe, learn and record, it was an intricate tapestry that I will spend the next few years of my life trying to understand and decode.
Persepolis
Going on this self directed road trip let me improvise as I went along. It gave me the freedom to stop anywhere between major sites and immerse myself in the culture—something Parsi pilgrimage tours seldom afford. The eight- to ten hour drives from province to province unfolded Iran’s diverse landscapes as we climbed the dry, jagged peaks toward Alamut and Behestan Castle in the Alborz Mountains and moved northward to Massouleh and Rasht, with lush green hills flanking the Caspian Sea. I listened to gently shifting dialects between West and East Azerbaijan, Kermanshah, Lorestan and Kurdistan, and noticed their delightful regional quirks, from hand gestures to dressing sensibilities.
Farvahar bullion embroidery circa 18th century, Yazd
Among all the obscure sites that I had the privilege to visit, what wasn’t hard to find was the kindness of strangers. From simple directions to the shoemakers’ quarter in Tabriz, an invitation to dine with a Kurdish family at Takht-e-Soleyman, a glass of chilled doogh (a fermented yoghurt beverage) at a dwelling in Kandovan, a bowl of fragrant olive parvardeh (a regional entrée of olives marinated in ground walnuts, pomegranate molasses and cardamom) from a stranger in Rudbar, or a kiss on my Farvahar pendant from a man in Susa.
Tchogga Zanbil, Susa
Iran might be shadowed in troubling circumstances, but its people seem to be a unified passive force against the dying of the light. They illuminated the way for me to see how magnificent Persia once was, and could perhaps be once again someday. I came away with a much deeper appreciation, knowledge and understanding of my cultural heritage. As an art historian, textile practitioner, and really, just as a Parsi trying to find his place, there could be no greater gift.
Sarv of Abarkuh, Yazd
elle.in
A beautiful piece ...
Cheers, Doc
“Look at yourself: you’re a son of Persia. Welcome home.”
What do you mean you’re from New Zealand?” a shopkeeper in Mozaafarieh named Omid exclaimed. We were in the carpet quarter of Tabriz’s Grand Bazaar, and I had just told him that I was a Kiwi Parsi. “Look at yourself: you’re a son of Persia. Welcome home.” This was one of many similar reactions my Zoroastrian identity elicited in Iran. It made me teary, as I walked alone through the vaulted streets of the world’s largest covered bazaar.
The ancient mountain tomb Naqsh-e-Rustam, northwest of Persepolis
When I told my family I was going on a month-long trip to Iran, the seat of Zoroastrianism, they seemed puzzled. All my life, I had railed against the community and its insular, patriarchal nature, especially in India, where its racial and ethnic exclusivity had brought it dangerously close to extinction. (In Auckland, where I grew up, Parsis are just one of several minorities they embrace). It has taken me over two fraught decades since I was ordained as a mobed (Zoroastrian priest), at age 10, to reconcile the Parsi and queer aspects of my identity.
Zoroastrian women at Maryamabad Zoroastrian Colony, Yazd
But now I wanted to know everything there was to know about my community. In fact, I moved to Mumbai and began a project to immerse myself in learning about it, exploring Parsi myths, icons and practices. I’ve been using the medium of textiles for my work as an artist for approximately six years. More recently, through the framework of a personal journey, I’ve utilised craft skills such as needlework, which I inherited from the women in my family, in a hope to explore Zoroastrian identity through a more intimate, matrilineal perspective. The work will culminate in an exhibition at Malcolm Smith Gallery in Howick in February 2019, circling back to the suburb of Auckland, where I grew up. So, in an attempt to expand this odyssey trope, I decided to embark on a month-long solo road trip through Iran; I’d be the first person in my family to go back there.
Church of Saint Mary, Urmia, West Azerbaijan
Tehran was a confusing place to start. On the surface, it was chaotic and bare; none of the glamour, cultural diversity or freedom of expression that once deemed it the Paris of the East had survived the Islamic Revolution of 1979. Since the overthrowing of a liberal Persian monarchy, human rights such as free speech and personal expressions of faith have been infringed upon. But then one enters little discreet pockets of Tehrani society where you might find a café where women have pushed back their mandatory hijabs, or see a couple kiss, laugh and hold hands. And the more young people I met, most of them progressive and vibrant thinkers, the more I learnt that these small gestures were all signs of passive resistance.
Carpet weaving matriarchs, Kashan
Another such gesture is the adornment of the iconic Faravahar, in any shape or form, but most commonly as a pendant. The winged angelic symbol is a subtle reminder of a Zoroastrian Persia, which celebrated a brief revival during the Pahlavi period (1925- 1979), but has been suppressed (yet not outlawed completely) since the revolution. It can be traced all the way back to the height of the Achaemenid empire (550-330 BC), which is still celebrated as the Golden Age of Persian history, when great citadels like Persepolis, Susa and Pasargadae were built by hired, not slave, hands for the first time in ancient history. Its founder Cyrus the Great wrote the world’s first bill of human rights. He was also the only gentile mentioned favourably in the Old Testament, for his humanitarianism and for protecting secularism during Persia’s reign over Europe and Asia. Entering sites like the mountain relief tombs at Naqsh-e-Rustam, Persepolis and Pasargadae (where the tomb of Cyrus stands) were some of the most moving experiences for me. They were like great, imposing answers to what my nine-year old self had wondered about being Parsi. Pars (present-day Fars) is the region where Persepolis and its neighbouring archaeological sites are, and where the term Parsi comes from. A feeling of pride began to seep into me.
A wall of pure silk yarn, Tabriz
I also spent a week in Yazd Province. It was there that I sought the guidance of local Zoroastrians, who still live there in small communities, and invited me to join their little gatherings around the village of Maryamabad. My friends Bahruz, a priest, and his son Navid, a real estate agent, made sure that I got in everywhere through the special entrances reserved for us. “This is your homeland,” Navid said to me at one point, “you should not have to hide it or pay to visit our sites.” Despite the oppression the community has faced over the last millennia— forced to flee (as my Parsi ancestors did), convert or practise Zoroastrianism secretly under a totalitarian republic after the Arab conquest in the seventh century—there is an immense warmth and grace to be found here.
Hossain, one of the three Sohrabi brothers of Kashan, whose family has woven silk on these 500-year-old looms for generations
Chak Chak, also known as Pir-e-Sabz, is home to one of Zoroastrianism’s holiest mountain shrines, and is one of several sacred shrines or ‘Pirs’ around Yazd. There is one family that still tends and guards it, with a devotion that astonished me, considering the remoteness and the rough living conditions they have to endure in order to do it, such as scarcity of water and electricity.
Barberries, nuts and dry fruits at a bazaar, Tehran
Other Zoroastrian villages around Yazd provided incredible cultural insight, especially if one considers their status as the birthplace of monotheism and the globally beloved paisley motif. The latter was derived from an Achaemenid stone tablet illustrating the holy cypress tree standing tall and evergreen, against the force of the northern winds. Villages like Cham, Abarkuh, Mubarakkeh still house sacred ecological shrines, each dedicated to a different earth, water or air deity and sanctified by a sarv, or cypress tree. In fact, the Sarv of Abarkuh is considered one of the world’s oldest trees at over 4,000 years. Standing under its grand 26-metre high canopy was an awe-inspiring experience unlike any other.
Yazdi faloodeh, a delicate cold soup with rosewater and rice vermicelli
Iran was especially revelatory for me as a textile historian. I believe that my month there only scratched the surface of our rich craft traditions. In Yazd alone, I learned about sudreh and kushti weaving (the religious garments worn by Zoroastrians after their Navjote, or initiation ceremony), doozi needlework and handwoven Termeh textiles. Tabriz is known for its Grand Bazaar, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the carpet weaving capital of the world, whose rug weavers and pashim (wool, in Farsi) spinners are famous. Closer to the north, Kashan was once the world’s centre for the silk trade. This is where I participated in jacquard weaving sessions at the Ancient Crafts Centre and documented the Sohrabi brothers weaving on their 500-year-old looms.
Chak Chak, also called Pir-e-Sabz, is home to one of Zoroastrianism’s holiest mountain shrines
Carpets here also vary from region to region; my favourites were the West Azerbaijani tribal kilims: flatwoven by matriarchs and encoded with ancient Zoroastrian and Elamite symbols. Some of these icons are still visible in Susa (present-day Shush, the capital of Khuzestan province) where I braved 50-degree heatwaves and visited one of the world’s best-preserved Ziggurat pyramids at Tchogga Zanbil. It is a pre-Zoroastrian Elamite citadel that is also notably the first site in modern-day Iran to gain the UNESCO World Heritage Stamp). Such were my attempts to tie archaeology in with theological studies and textile practices. From what I could observe, learn and record, it was an intricate tapestry that I will spend the next few years of my life trying to understand and decode.
Persepolis
Going on this self directed road trip let me improvise as I went along. It gave me the freedom to stop anywhere between major sites and immerse myself in the culture—something Parsi pilgrimage tours seldom afford. The eight- to ten hour drives from province to province unfolded Iran’s diverse landscapes as we climbed the dry, jagged peaks toward Alamut and Behestan Castle in the Alborz Mountains and moved northward to Massouleh and Rasht, with lush green hills flanking the Caspian Sea. I listened to gently shifting dialects between West and East Azerbaijan, Kermanshah, Lorestan and Kurdistan, and noticed their delightful regional quirks, from hand gestures to dressing sensibilities.
Farvahar bullion embroidery circa 18th century, Yazd
Among all the obscure sites that I had the privilege to visit, what wasn’t hard to find was the kindness of strangers. From simple directions to the shoemakers’ quarter in Tabriz, an invitation to dine with a Kurdish family at Takht-e-Soleyman, a glass of chilled doogh (a fermented yoghurt beverage) at a dwelling in Kandovan, a bowl of fragrant olive parvardeh (a regional entrée of olives marinated in ground walnuts, pomegranate molasses and cardamom) from a stranger in Rudbar, or a kiss on my Farvahar pendant from a man in Susa.
Tchogga Zanbil, Susa
Iran might be shadowed in troubling circumstances, but its people seem to be a unified passive force against the dying of the light. They illuminated the way for me to see how magnificent Persia once was, and could perhaps be once again someday. I came away with a much deeper appreciation, knowledge and understanding of my cultural heritage. As an art historian, textile practitioner, and really, just as a Parsi trying to find his place, there could be no greater gift.
Sarv of Abarkuh, Yazd
A Parsi art historian rediscovers his heritage on a trip across Iran - Elle India
What do you mean you’re from New Zealand?” a shopkeeper in Mozaafarieh named Omid exclaimed. We were in the carpet quarter of Tabriz’s Grand Bazaar, and I had just told him that I was a Kiwi Parsi. “Look at yourself: you’re a son of Persia. Welcome home.” This was one of many similar reactions...
elle.in
A beautiful piece ...
Cheers, Doc
WED, JAN 9, 2019
Iran protest movement births a new group, Iran Revival
IranSource by Alireza Nader
Iran
Reza Pahlavi, Crown Prince of Iran, speaking at an event hosted at Arizona State University on October 16, 2015 (Gage Skidmore)
Iran has faced widespread demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience for more than one year. Even members of the elite, including the grandson of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and daughter of Hashemi Rafsanjani, have said that the collapse of the regime is an increasing possibility. The regime’s vulnerability has not only motivated existing opposition groups, but has sparked the creation of new organizations led by younger Iranians.
One such group is Iran Revival, or farashgard. (In Zoroastrianism, Iran’s ancient pre-Islamic religion, farashgard is the period of the world’s rebirth after the defeat of Ahriman, the God of Darkness.) A loosely organized network of political activists spread across the US, Canada, Europe and Iran, the group, which describes itself as a “political action network,” seeks the overthrow of the Islamic Republic through a campaign of peaceful civil disobedience mimicking past successful revolutions in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. In particular, Iran Revival has called for “Million Man” demonstrations and gatherings across Iranian cities to overwhelm the security forces and shut down the regime.
Iran Revival represents a new phenomenon in Iranian politics. Disillusioned by the siren song of “reformism,” many young Iranians have found inspiration in forces antithetical to the Islamic Republic and outside its narrow circle of permitted political factions. Secular, pluralist, and nationalist, Iran Revival has rallied around Prince Reza Pahlavi, the son of the late Shah and heir apparent to the Pahlavi throne. From his exile in America, Pahlavi has long urged Iranians to overthrow the regime through peaceful protests and civil disobedience. Pahlavi has also stated that Iran’s post-Islamic Republic political system must be established through a popular referendum monitored by international observers.
But it would be wrong to call Iran Revival a strictly monarchist group. Many of its supporters are either disillusioned reformists or supporters of a republic, although many members appear to support a constitutional monarchy with the Shah serving as a unifying national figure, a king who reigns but does not rule, much like the British monarch.
One of the most visible and influential members of Iran Revival is Amir Etemadi, a former student activist and political organizer during Iran’s contested 2009 presidential election and ensuing Green Movement. Etemadi paid a heavy price for his activities; he was arrested and jailed for two months in Iran’s notorious Evin prison and sentenced to a further term of two years. Etemadi was lucky to escape Iran and make his way to the US, where he currently serves as the editor in chief of Taghato, an online magazine advocating for a free and democratic Iran.
When asked by this author why he supports Pahlavi, Etemadi said, “I have two reasons for supporting Reza Pahlavi. First, he has persistently fought against the regime and consistently advocated for a secular and democratic Iran for the past forty years. Second, I believe the Pahlavis did a lot to develop Iran. These characteristics and the growing popularity of the Pahlavis among Iranians today make the prince an outstanding partner for us.”
Calling himself a barandaz or overthrower, Etemadi believes that Iran Revival’s appeal to younger Iranians could prove a powerful force for bringing change to Iran. Many if not most of the country’s young population view pre-revolutionary Iran with nostalgia, a view reinforced by Pahlavi’s secular and nationalist credentials and widespread popular dissatisfaction if not revulsion with the current regime’s disastrous economic, social, and environmental policies.
Unable to openly organize within Iran due to severe regime repression, Iran Revival uses social media and foreign Persian language television and radio broadcasts to spread its message far and wide across Iran. Its supporters inside Iran have launched a nationwide campaign of civil disobedience featuring calls for “million man” demonstrations and the slogan “long live the Shah” written on buildings, storefronts and street signs all over the country.
It has even picked the color turquoise, long a symbol of ancient Iran and the monarchy, as its representative color. The color has also been adopted by multiple other groups and people within Iran as a symbol of freedom from the Islamic Republic.
It’s impossible to measure the extent of Iran Revival and Pahlavi’s appeal. The regime does not permit fair and free elections and public opinion surveys are completely unreliable in the current climate of terror and repression.
But nostalgia for Pahlavi rule, along with secularism, nationalism and a deep hatred for the Islamic Republic are a powerful social and political force.
The 2017 Iranian uprising and the ensuing nationwide civil disobedience movement led by women, laborers, teachers, students and many other Iranians has also featured dozens of demonstrations calling for the return of the Shah.
“Reza Shah, blessed be your spirit,” has been a popular slogan among the demonstrators, with thousands of sports fans shouting the slogan during soccer matches in Tehran and Esfahan.
Iran Revival is one of many opposition groups scattered among the Iranian diaspora, estimated to number between five and seven million people. But it is one of the few groups almost entirely composed of younger Iranians.
Dena Zairi, a young architectural lecturer, is one of them. She calls London, where she was born, home. But she has an intense attachment to Iran and strongly believes in its potential after the Islamic Republic. Zairi believes that the 2017 uprising is an entirely different phenomenon than past demonstrations, as Iranians have finally given up on the hope that the regime can be reformed. For her, the 2017 uprising was a “call to duty” to save Iran from the Islamic Republic.
She believes that her political inclinations are not as important as “core values that tie monarchists, republic seekers, and others together: a secular, democratic, and representative political system.” Nevertheless, Zairi favors a constitutional monarchy like the British one for Iran, which she sees as a politically “neutral” symbol of unification given the country’s ethnic and religious diversity.
Iran Revival’s goals are in no way easy to achieve. The regime still commands a hardcore group of adherents willing to kill to save it.
But Iran Revival may possess a weapon no longer available to the regime: hope. Iranians long for the rebirth and revival of Iran as a respected and responsible member of the international community. The Islamic Republic, celebrating its fortieth anniversary this year, has offered nothing but impoverishment, repression, and misery. For millions of Iranians like Etemadi, Zairi, and Pahlavi, only a total rebirth of Iran can lead to its ultimate salvation.
Alireza Nader is founder and CEO of New Iran, a nonpartisan and nonprofit research and advocacy organization based in Washington, DC. Follow him on Twitter: @AlirezaNader.
www.atlanticcouncil.org
Do not want to tag any Iranians here and get them in trouble (big brother is watching the Internet and all of that ...) but this is only the tip of the iceberg of what is building up outside Iran by sons of the soil who are not allowed back. Not just recent, but over a thousand years.
Every vocal Iranian voice is heard not from Iranian soil but from either the US or sitting and working or studying in Europe.
Shame!
But it will be peaceful. And no blood will be spilled. These are our people.
This is our land.
The fire will not scorch it.
Ushta te.
Cheers, Doc
Iran protest movement births a new group, Iran Revival
IranSource by Alireza Nader
Iran
Reza Pahlavi, Crown Prince of Iran, speaking at an event hosted at Arizona State University on October 16, 2015 (Gage Skidmore)
Iran has faced widespread demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience for more than one year. Even members of the elite, including the grandson of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini and daughter of Hashemi Rafsanjani, have said that the collapse of the regime is an increasing possibility. The regime’s vulnerability has not only motivated existing opposition groups, but has sparked the creation of new organizations led by younger Iranians.
One such group is Iran Revival, or farashgard. (In Zoroastrianism, Iran’s ancient pre-Islamic religion, farashgard is the period of the world’s rebirth after the defeat of Ahriman, the God of Darkness.) A loosely organized network of political activists spread across the US, Canada, Europe and Iran, the group, which describes itself as a “political action network,” seeks the overthrow of the Islamic Republic through a campaign of peaceful civil disobedience mimicking past successful revolutions in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. In particular, Iran Revival has called for “Million Man” demonstrations and gatherings across Iranian cities to overwhelm the security forces and shut down the regime.
Iran Revival represents a new phenomenon in Iranian politics. Disillusioned by the siren song of “reformism,” many young Iranians have found inspiration in forces antithetical to the Islamic Republic and outside its narrow circle of permitted political factions. Secular, pluralist, and nationalist, Iran Revival has rallied around Prince Reza Pahlavi, the son of the late Shah and heir apparent to the Pahlavi throne. From his exile in America, Pahlavi has long urged Iranians to overthrow the regime through peaceful protests and civil disobedience. Pahlavi has also stated that Iran’s post-Islamic Republic political system must be established through a popular referendum monitored by international observers.
But it would be wrong to call Iran Revival a strictly monarchist group. Many of its supporters are either disillusioned reformists or supporters of a republic, although many members appear to support a constitutional monarchy with the Shah serving as a unifying national figure, a king who reigns but does not rule, much like the British monarch.
One of the most visible and influential members of Iran Revival is Amir Etemadi, a former student activist and political organizer during Iran’s contested 2009 presidential election and ensuing Green Movement. Etemadi paid a heavy price for his activities; he was arrested and jailed for two months in Iran’s notorious Evin prison and sentenced to a further term of two years. Etemadi was lucky to escape Iran and make his way to the US, where he currently serves as the editor in chief of Taghato, an online magazine advocating for a free and democratic Iran.
When asked by this author why he supports Pahlavi, Etemadi said, “I have two reasons for supporting Reza Pahlavi. First, he has persistently fought against the regime and consistently advocated for a secular and democratic Iran for the past forty years. Second, I believe the Pahlavis did a lot to develop Iran. These characteristics and the growing popularity of the Pahlavis among Iranians today make the prince an outstanding partner for us.”
Calling himself a barandaz or overthrower, Etemadi believes that Iran Revival’s appeal to younger Iranians could prove a powerful force for bringing change to Iran. Many if not most of the country’s young population view pre-revolutionary Iran with nostalgia, a view reinforced by Pahlavi’s secular and nationalist credentials and widespread popular dissatisfaction if not revulsion with the current regime’s disastrous economic, social, and environmental policies.
Unable to openly organize within Iran due to severe regime repression, Iran Revival uses social media and foreign Persian language television and radio broadcasts to spread its message far and wide across Iran. Its supporters inside Iran have launched a nationwide campaign of civil disobedience featuring calls for “million man” demonstrations and the slogan “long live the Shah” written on buildings, storefronts and street signs all over the country.
It has even picked the color turquoise, long a symbol of ancient Iran and the monarchy, as its representative color. The color has also been adopted by multiple other groups and people within Iran as a symbol of freedom from the Islamic Republic.
It’s impossible to measure the extent of Iran Revival and Pahlavi’s appeal. The regime does not permit fair and free elections and public opinion surveys are completely unreliable in the current climate of terror and repression.
But nostalgia for Pahlavi rule, along with secularism, nationalism and a deep hatred for the Islamic Republic are a powerful social and political force.
The 2017 Iranian uprising and the ensuing nationwide civil disobedience movement led by women, laborers, teachers, students and many other Iranians has also featured dozens of demonstrations calling for the return of the Shah.
“Reza Shah, blessed be your spirit,” has been a popular slogan among the demonstrators, with thousands of sports fans shouting the slogan during soccer matches in Tehran and Esfahan.
Iran Revival is one of many opposition groups scattered among the Iranian diaspora, estimated to number between five and seven million people. But it is one of the few groups almost entirely composed of younger Iranians.
Dena Zairi, a young architectural lecturer, is one of them. She calls London, where she was born, home. But she has an intense attachment to Iran and strongly believes in its potential after the Islamic Republic. Zairi believes that the 2017 uprising is an entirely different phenomenon than past demonstrations, as Iranians have finally given up on the hope that the regime can be reformed. For her, the 2017 uprising was a “call to duty” to save Iran from the Islamic Republic.
She believes that her political inclinations are not as important as “core values that tie monarchists, republic seekers, and others together: a secular, democratic, and representative political system.” Nevertheless, Zairi favors a constitutional monarchy like the British one for Iran, which she sees as a politically “neutral” symbol of unification given the country’s ethnic and religious diversity.
Iran Revival’s goals are in no way easy to achieve. The regime still commands a hardcore group of adherents willing to kill to save it.
But Iran Revival may possess a weapon no longer available to the regime: hope. Iranians long for the rebirth and revival of Iran as a respected and responsible member of the international community. The Islamic Republic, celebrating its fortieth anniversary this year, has offered nothing but impoverishment, repression, and misery. For millions of Iranians like Etemadi, Zairi, and Pahlavi, only a total rebirth of Iran can lead to its ultimate salvation.
Alireza Nader is founder and CEO of New Iran, a nonpartisan and nonprofit research and advocacy organization based in Washington, DC. Follow him on Twitter: @AlirezaNader.
Iran protest movement births a new group, Iran Revival
Iran has faced widespread demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience for more than one year. Even members of the elite, including the grandson of
www.atlanticcouncil.org
Do not want to tag any Iranians here and get them in trouble (big brother is watching the Internet and all of that ...) but this is only the tip of the iceberg of what is building up outside Iran by sons of the soil who are not allowed back. Not just recent, but over a thousand years.
Every vocal Iranian voice is heard not from Iranian soil but from either the US or sitting and working or studying in Europe.
Shame!
But it will be peaceful. And no blood will be spilled. These are our people.
This is our land.
The fire will not scorch it.
Ushta te.
Cheers, Doc
Last edited:
In memory of Greater Iran: Zoroastrians of Navsari
HISTORIESINSTITUTIONSPEOPLE
in Image Gallery
Published on: 20 March 2020
Sarah Jabbari
Sarah Jabbari is from Tehran, capital of Iran. She is currently completing her PhD in fine arts from Aligarh Muslim University. Her interest areas are comparative study on Iran and India, and understanding similarities in their art, culture, social traditions and religious philosophies.
Zoroastrianism was a prominent religion in Iran (Persia) since (and before) the Achaemenid empire, up until the Sassanian empire. However, starting in the seventh century CE, Iran was gradually Islamised by a series of invasions originating from the Arabian peninsula, the birthplace of Islam. Though a majority of Iranians converted to Islam, they did not get Arabised. The old Zoroastrian culture was kept alive in the heart of the new religion, including the usage of classical Persian language, and the celebration of old festivals like Nowruz, Shab-e Chelle, Mehregan and Sadeh. Iranians mostly assimilated those Islamic values which was closer to Zoroastrian culture. For example, Khuda, one of the 101 names of Ahura Mazda, is still widely used for god, while namaz, the Zoroastrian prayer, was not replaced by the Arabic term of salah for prayer.
Thus, Iranian Islam is distinctly separate from Sunni Islam of the Arabs and the Ialamic world. The old Zoroastrian religion survived as a small minority, but faced existential crisis in the post-Islamic Revolution period starting from 1979, when Sharia law was imposed nationwide. A large population of Iranians, including Zoroastrians, migrated during this period.
Zoroastrianism (correct name Mazdayasna) could survive because certain verses of the Quran identifies Zoroastrians (Majoos) in the Ahl al-kitab, meaning those groups who are mentioned as ‘People of the Book’. This qualified them as protected non-muslim minority (dhimmi) and allowed them to claim a seat in the parliament, and the freedom to practice their religion, though only in their designated places of worship. They were denied any right to proselytise their religion or convert people from other religions to Zoroastrianism. Sharia Law also denied them jobs in the army and police forces, or the government, whether nominated or elected. Also, in case of marriage with Muslims, the Zoroastrian partner must convert to Islam. One concession the community is allowed is that they can have their own schools where they can study their religion; they are not forced to study Islam, not at least till they reach university level, which is otherwise mandatory in all government schools.
I was born in 1989, ten years after Iran was declared an Islamic Republic. My parents’ trace their origin to Dasht-e Mughan (the Zoroastrian priest’s land) in Iranian Azarbaijan, which has been an important base for Zoroastrianism since the period of ancient Iran. After completing my graduation in Tehran, I arrived in India to pursue a PhD from the Aligarh Muslim University. My ongoing thesis is on the Zoroastrian contribution to development of photography in nineteenth-century India. As part of my research, I regularly interact with Zoroastrians living in India, popularly known as Parsis. The Parsis, in great contrast to the exclusion of Zoroastrians in Iranian society, have not only prospered in India but have also been instrumental in nation building, having been pioneers in trade, industry, politics, sports, education and philanthropy. As part of the Sahapedia Frames Photography Grant, I got the opportunity to go beyond my PhD research, and document the cultural ethos of the Parsi population living in Navsari, South Gujarat.
Parsis migrated in successive waves from Greater Iran, fleeing religious persecution following the Islamic conquest of Iran (Persia). They first arrived in Gujarat between the eighth and tenth centuries. Navsari in Gujarat was one of the earliest Parsi settlements in India, and became a major centre of the Parsi priesthood. The current Parsi population in Navsari lives mostly in Ava Baug, Mehta Blocks, Bamji Building and Dinshaw Park. Navsari has many heritage buildings and public spaces built and run by the Parsi community. Meherji Rana Library has one of the richest collections of books related to Zoroastrianism in the world. The Bhagarsath (Desai) Anjuman Atash Behram is one of the oldest fire temples in India (consecrated in 1765). Though some of these institutions are specific to the Parsi community, Parsi philanthropy benefitted people from all walks of life. Sir Jamsetji Jeejeebhoy, famous merchant and philanthropist who made his fortune in Bombay, was born in Navsari. His humble birthplace has been converted into a museum. The same neighbourhood is the birthplace of another towering industrialist, Jamshedji Nasserwanji Tata, patriarch of the Tata business family. Dadabhai Naoroji, the first Indian to be a British MP and prominent Congress leader, was also born in Navsari.
I wanted to understand what collective memory the Parsis have for their original homeland in Greater Iran, and how the two Zoroastrian communities interact. Though intermittent, Parsis maintained contact with their counterparts in Iran from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries, consulting them in matters of religious observances in order to maintain the purity of their rituals and their distinct racial identity. This need for prolonged guidance (The Revayats) reflects how the Zoroastrianism practised in Iran was considered to be more authentic and the deep-rooted anxiety Parsis had about dilution of their faith in India.
In modern times, some wealthy Parsis travel to Iran on special tours to Mount Damavand, in the Alborz mountains, the highest volcano in Asia that has a special place in Persian mythology and folklore. A picture of Mount Damavand is displayed in most Parsi homes, Agiaries (fire temple) and Irani cafes. Some Parsis I met shared nostalgia about visiting Persepolis, the capital city of Persian empire in Fars province, Cyrus the Great’s Tomb at Pasargadae, and Naqsh-e-Rustam, the burial place of the Persian Kings. The glorious history of the Achaemenid Empire and kings like Cyrus, Darius and Xerxes is a matter of great pride amongst modern Parsis. However, I feel, the nostalgia is more symbolic than a real connection with these places, because these symbols are critical in keeping their identity as a minority community alive in India.
Sometime after their arrival in India, Parsis gave up Persian and adapted the local Gujarati language. Parsi women started wearing sarees like Indian women. Sensing business opportunity, the Parsis were amongst the first Indians to trade with the British. These changes were accepted by the community, and it allowed them to successfully integrate with Indian society and become prosperous and influential. However, the vast population of the Indian subcontinent always played on the mind of the Parsi community, making them acutely wary of their small numbers. This fuelled insecurity about losing purity of their faith, rituals and racial identity, which has resulted in contradictions in their social customs. For example, Parsi women ventured in public life much earlier and were stalwarts of women’s empowerment in India. Yet, Parsi inter-marriage laws are biased and discriminatory towards women to justify the desire of the community to maintain racial purity. For example, if a Parsi woman marries a non-Parsi man, she is excommunicated from society and her children are no longer considered Parsi, but if a Parsi man marries a non-Parsi woman, he is neither penalised, nor his children not accepted as Parsi. In addition to the marriage restrictions, Parsis do not allow non-Parsis to convert to Zoroastrianism in India.
Another important cultural reason has been the reticence in spreading knowledge about their faith to the outside world. The community is closed to outsiders. Although Parsis have lived in India for more than a thousand years, yet most Indians have little idea about Zoroastrianism. This is strange because Hinduism and Zoroastrianism are contemporary religions, which had its origins in Greater Iran or Aryana/Eranvich according to the Avesta, and Aryavarta, according to Hindu texts like the Dharmashastras. Sanskrit and Avestan language are considered sister languages and the oldest part of Avesta, called Gatha, was written in the same period as the Rig Veda, the oldest of the four sacred vedas. This shared culture should act like a bridge in bringing the ancient civilisations of India and Iran closer to each other and I hope through the efforts of the younger generation of Zoroastrians, this can be achieved in the future.
This photo-essay has been created as part of the Sahapedia Frames Photography Grant, supported by CSR funding from IndusInd Bank.
www.sahapedia.org
I'll try and dig out her work if possible. Parsi Gujarat is a whole different century and world.
Cheers, Doc
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Published on: 20 March 2020
Sarah Jabbari
Sarah Jabbari is from Tehran, capital of Iran. She is currently completing her PhD in fine arts from Aligarh Muslim University. Her interest areas are comparative study on Iran and India, and understanding similarities in their art, culture, social traditions and religious philosophies.
Zoroastrianism was a prominent religion in Iran (Persia) since (and before) the Achaemenid empire, up until the Sassanian empire. However, starting in the seventh century CE, Iran was gradually Islamised by a series of invasions originating from the Arabian peninsula, the birthplace of Islam. Though a majority of Iranians converted to Islam, they did not get Arabised. The old Zoroastrian culture was kept alive in the heart of the new religion, including the usage of classical Persian language, and the celebration of old festivals like Nowruz, Shab-e Chelle, Mehregan and Sadeh. Iranians mostly assimilated those Islamic values which was closer to Zoroastrian culture. For example, Khuda, one of the 101 names of Ahura Mazda, is still widely used for god, while namaz, the Zoroastrian prayer, was not replaced by the Arabic term of salah for prayer.
Thus, Iranian Islam is distinctly separate from Sunni Islam of the Arabs and the Ialamic world. The old Zoroastrian religion survived as a small minority, but faced existential crisis in the post-Islamic Revolution period starting from 1979, when Sharia law was imposed nationwide. A large population of Iranians, including Zoroastrians, migrated during this period.
Zoroastrianism (correct name Mazdayasna) could survive because certain verses of the Quran identifies Zoroastrians (Majoos) in the Ahl al-kitab, meaning those groups who are mentioned as ‘People of the Book’. This qualified them as protected non-muslim minority (dhimmi) and allowed them to claim a seat in the parliament, and the freedom to practice their religion, though only in their designated places of worship. They were denied any right to proselytise their religion or convert people from other religions to Zoroastrianism. Sharia Law also denied them jobs in the army and police forces, or the government, whether nominated or elected. Also, in case of marriage with Muslims, the Zoroastrian partner must convert to Islam. One concession the community is allowed is that they can have their own schools where they can study their religion; they are not forced to study Islam, not at least till they reach university level, which is otherwise mandatory in all government schools.
I was born in 1989, ten years after Iran was declared an Islamic Republic. My parents’ trace their origin to Dasht-e Mughan (the Zoroastrian priest’s land) in Iranian Azarbaijan, which has been an important base for Zoroastrianism since the period of ancient Iran. After completing my graduation in Tehran, I arrived in India to pursue a PhD from the Aligarh Muslim University. My ongoing thesis is on the Zoroastrian contribution to development of photography in nineteenth-century India. As part of my research, I regularly interact with Zoroastrians living in India, popularly known as Parsis. The Parsis, in great contrast to the exclusion of Zoroastrians in Iranian society, have not only prospered in India but have also been instrumental in nation building, having been pioneers in trade, industry, politics, sports, education and philanthropy. As part of the Sahapedia Frames Photography Grant, I got the opportunity to go beyond my PhD research, and document the cultural ethos of the Parsi population living in Navsari, South Gujarat.
Parsis migrated in successive waves from Greater Iran, fleeing religious persecution following the Islamic conquest of Iran (Persia). They first arrived in Gujarat between the eighth and tenth centuries. Navsari in Gujarat was one of the earliest Parsi settlements in India, and became a major centre of the Parsi priesthood. The current Parsi population in Navsari lives mostly in Ava Baug, Mehta Blocks, Bamji Building and Dinshaw Park. Navsari has many heritage buildings and public spaces built and run by the Parsi community. Meherji Rana Library has one of the richest collections of books related to Zoroastrianism in the world. The Bhagarsath (Desai) Anjuman Atash Behram is one of the oldest fire temples in India (consecrated in 1765). Though some of these institutions are specific to the Parsi community, Parsi philanthropy benefitted people from all walks of life. Sir Jamsetji Jeejeebhoy, famous merchant and philanthropist who made his fortune in Bombay, was born in Navsari. His humble birthplace has been converted into a museum. The same neighbourhood is the birthplace of another towering industrialist, Jamshedji Nasserwanji Tata, patriarch of the Tata business family. Dadabhai Naoroji, the first Indian to be a British MP and prominent Congress leader, was also born in Navsari.
I wanted to understand what collective memory the Parsis have for their original homeland in Greater Iran, and how the two Zoroastrian communities interact. Though intermittent, Parsis maintained contact with their counterparts in Iran from the thirteenth to the sixteenth centuries, consulting them in matters of religious observances in order to maintain the purity of their rituals and their distinct racial identity. This need for prolonged guidance (The Revayats) reflects how the Zoroastrianism practised in Iran was considered to be more authentic and the deep-rooted anxiety Parsis had about dilution of their faith in India.
In modern times, some wealthy Parsis travel to Iran on special tours to Mount Damavand, in the Alborz mountains, the highest volcano in Asia that has a special place in Persian mythology and folklore. A picture of Mount Damavand is displayed in most Parsi homes, Agiaries (fire temple) and Irani cafes. Some Parsis I met shared nostalgia about visiting Persepolis, the capital city of Persian empire in Fars province, Cyrus the Great’s Tomb at Pasargadae, and Naqsh-e-Rustam, the burial place of the Persian Kings. The glorious history of the Achaemenid Empire and kings like Cyrus, Darius and Xerxes is a matter of great pride amongst modern Parsis. However, I feel, the nostalgia is more symbolic than a real connection with these places, because these symbols are critical in keeping their identity as a minority community alive in India.
Sometime after their arrival in India, Parsis gave up Persian and adapted the local Gujarati language. Parsi women started wearing sarees like Indian women. Sensing business opportunity, the Parsis were amongst the first Indians to trade with the British. These changes were accepted by the community, and it allowed them to successfully integrate with Indian society and become prosperous and influential. However, the vast population of the Indian subcontinent always played on the mind of the Parsi community, making them acutely wary of their small numbers. This fuelled insecurity about losing purity of their faith, rituals and racial identity, which has resulted in contradictions in their social customs. For example, Parsi women ventured in public life much earlier and were stalwarts of women’s empowerment in India. Yet, Parsi inter-marriage laws are biased and discriminatory towards women to justify the desire of the community to maintain racial purity. For example, if a Parsi woman marries a non-Parsi man, she is excommunicated from society and her children are no longer considered Parsi, but if a Parsi man marries a non-Parsi woman, he is neither penalised, nor his children not accepted as Parsi. In addition to the marriage restrictions, Parsis do not allow non-Parsis to convert to Zoroastrianism in India.
Another important cultural reason has been the reticence in spreading knowledge about their faith to the outside world. The community is closed to outsiders. Although Parsis have lived in India for more than a thousand years, yet most Indians have little idea about Zoroastrianism. This is strange because Hinduism and Zoroastrianism are contemporary religions, which had its origins in Greater Iran or Aryana/Eranvich according to the Avesta, and Aryavarta, according to Hindu texts like the Dharmashastras. Sanskrit and Avestan language are considered sister languages and the oldest part of Avesta, called Gatha, was written in the same period as the Rig Veda, the oldest of the four sacred vedas. This shared culture should act like a bridge in bringing the ancient civilisations of India and Iran closer to each other and I hope through the efforts of the younger generation of Zoroastrians, this can be achieved in the future.
This photo-essay has been created as part of the Sahapedia Frames Photography Grant, supported by CSR funding from IndusInd Bank.
In memory of Greater Iran: Zoroastrians of Navsari | Sahapedia
Zoroastrianism was a prominent religion in Iran (Persia) since (and before) the Achaemenid empire, up until the Sassanian empire. However, starting in the seventh century CE, Iran was gradually Islamised by a series of invasions originating from the Arabian peninsula, the birthplace of Islam...
www.sahapedia.org
I'll try and dig out her work if possible. Parsi Gujarat is a whole different century and world.
Cheers, Doc
Arian
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I enjoy your posts about Zoroastrianism, but you clearly have no clue about the Iranian opposition abroad. Most of them are over 60 years old and they have never been to Iran for 42 years. They're desperate. They are not organized and they have absolutely no understanding of politics or the Iranian society. In short, they're clowns.
So you guys have reconciled yourselves to living like this under the Mullas indefinitely.
Thanks for sharing.
I think you are not being honest though about the swell of Iranian pride outside Iran and the huge number of very young Iranians. Not all of them born outside Iran (post revolution babies).
Would love to learn more about contemporary Iran life and politics and society (purely as a silent observer) but I do not speak or understand Persian and I have little to zero interest in the defence hardware threads here.
Cheers, Doc
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