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Revival of ancestral links between Iranians and Kurds and Parsis picking up pace around the world

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
Nothing in the world is indefinite. And all systems are capable of change and forced to change.

42 years ago, the revolutionaries arrested people for carrying VHS videos or music cassettes. Nowadays, the internet has forced them to accept that Iranian youths can and will watch anything, including things completely against Islam. Even the officials of the Islamic Republic have accepted it and are active in foreign-controlled social media.

The huge number of young Iranians abroad are busy with their lives. They don't have much free time to spend on clowns like the people you quoted. Unless they're unemployed immigrants leeching off European countries, the rest of the Iranians are very hard working people solely focused on self development and improving their living standards in their new countries.
 
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Nothing in the world is indefinite. And all systems are capable of change and forced to change.

42 years ago, the revolutionaries arrested people for carrying VHS videos or music cassettes. Nowadays, the internet has forced them to accept that Iranian youths can and will watch anything, including things completely against Islam. Even the officials of the Islamic Republic have accepted it and are active in foreign-controlled social media.

The huge number of young Iranians abroad are busy with their lives. They don't have much free time to spend on clowns like the people you quoted. Unless they're unemployed immigrants leaching off European countries, the rest of the Iranians are very hard working people solely focused on self development and improving their living standards in their new countries.

Almost all the talks I have had have lef me to understand that there are currently 3 distinct political/social poles of Iran in terms of which way Iran could swing next.

The current Mulla regime.

The nationalists/Pan Persianists/monarchists

A secular/communist pole that is reportedly more radical in its ways and vision for Iran than the Mullas

You are saying there is no No 2 as a serious entity at all?

Cheers, Doc
 
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Almost all the talks I have had have lef me to understand that there are currently 3 distinct political/social poles of Iran in terms of which way Iran could swing next.

The current Mulla regime.

The nationalists/Pan Persianists/monarchists

A secular/communist pole that is reportedly more radical in its ways and vision for Iran than the Mullas

You are saying there is no No 2 as a serious entity at all?

Cheers, Doc
I am saying that your #2 is not what you say it is. Monarchists? Yeah. Nationalists? No, they're not that. But what percentage of the Iranian population do you think support monarchists?

Persian nationalists? The Iranian opposition abroad has lost most of Iranian nationalists in recent years, mainly due to their ties with Israel and recently Saudi Arabia. Having ties with Saudis is like a taboo for Pan Persians.

There are 4 groups now in my opinion:

1- Supporters of the current Iranian regime for Islamic reasons
2- People dissatisfied with the economic situation of the country
3- Independent nationalists that do not take sides but care for Iran's interests
4- Separatists and armed groups who are looking for an opportunity

The majority of people are in groups 2 and 3 in my opinion.
 
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A little description would be helpful, what are the events, what are they called, why they are celebrated. looks nice.

We organize tours of Parsis to Iran.

And increasingly of Kurds and Iranians to India.

And meetings of all three around the world (mainly for the youth to meet, mix, and hopefully find mates and make babies).

These are photos of the main fire temples (Atash Behrams) that have all been consecrated from the original fire that was moved to India from Iran.

Of the Atash Behram fires in the world, one remains in Iran and the remaining 8 are in India.

So in a way it is a pilgrimage for all 3 groups of Zoroastrians.

Blood.

Soil.

Faith.

Cheers, Doc
 
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Two Streams Converge

In the United States, Parsi and Iranian Zoroastrian communities sometimes hold separate schedules and services, but many share places of worship and are members of the same national Zoroastrian organizations. On the national and trans-national level, seminars, youth programs, and federations bring these two communities together. These interactions contribute to distinct modes of American Zoroastrian identities and communities.

The history of Zoroastrians in America, however brief, represents a critical juncture in an ancient faith, as two distinct communities and two streams of the same tradition converge on the same soil. Though sharing core beliefs and practices, these communities had developed many doctrinal, cultural, linguistic, and culinary differences over the centuries. Most Parsis from the Indian subcontinent speak English and Gujarati as their native languages, while most Persian Zoroastrians from Iran, who are generally more recent immigrants to the United States and Canada, claim Farsi as their mother tongue. Further, the two communities presently observe slightly different ritual practices and festivals and often follow distinct religious calendars.

Historical records indicate that the Zoroastrian presence in America dates back to the 1860s. During California’s Gold Rush, one of the prospectors was a Zoroastrian named Cawasji Zaveri. In 1865, New York’s Evening Post published a letter from a Zoroastrian named Dosabhai Faramji Cama protesting slavery. Other early Zoroastrians include Pestonji Framji Daver, a Parsi who came to San Francisco in 1892, and the first recorded Iranian Zoroastrian, Rostam Kermani, who settled in the United States in 1926. It is believed that the first North American Zoroastrian Association was formed in 1929 when a group of seven Zoroastrians in the New York area gathered in one Phiroze Saklatwala’s living room on November 10, 1929.
Along with economic and early political factors, the discriminatory immigration practices of the 1900s limited the flow of Zoroastrians into the United States. In the 1950s and 1960s, many Parsis began coming to the United States for educational and economic opportunities—one of the most prominent immigrants from that time was the conductor Zubin Mehta. On May 23, 1965, a group of thirty Chicago-area Zoroastrians formed the Zoroastrian Association of America. As expressed in the Association’s newsletter, their goal was clear: “…it is time now, for those of us in the vanguard of this migration, to plan on ways to preserve our identity and our heritage while participating fully in the American way of life.” While the group disbanded a few years later, the mission of the Zoroastrian organizations that followed was similar: for a small religious community to establish itself in a new homeland.

American Zoroastrian organizations initially formed on an informal basis, with local groups of Zoroastrians holding gatherings in private homes to socialize and observe religious holidays. Many of these communities had doubled in size by the late 1970s as increasing numbers of Iranian Zoroastrians joined their co-religionists in America after the Islamic Revolution in Iran in 1979.

Formal establishment of U.S. Zoroastrian Associations began in the 1970s and the founding of a local center for worship often followed. This was the case in New York with the Zoroastrian Association of Greater New York (ZAGNY) in 1973 which was followed by the Arbab Rustom Guiv Darbe Mehr in 1977.
On the West Coast, the Zoroastrian Association of California formed in Los Angeles in 1974, followed by the California Zoroastrian Center in 1980 and the Rustam Guiv Dar-e-Mehr inauguration on March 25, 1987; the Traditional Mazdayasni Zoroastrian Anjuman (or, Community) was founded in the late 1980s, as was the Zarathushtrian Assembly. In Northern California, the Zarthoshti Anjuman of Northern California (ZANC) was established in 1980, with the Rostam and Morvarid Guiv Dar-e-Mehr, a joint effort between two Zoroastrian groups, inaugurated on Jamshedi Navroz (New Year’s Day on the first day of spring) in 1992.

In the Midwest, the Zoroastrian Association of Metropolitan Chicago (ZAC) was officially chartered in 1975. The inauguration of the Arbab Rustom Guiv Darbe Mehr in Willowbrook, Illinois followed on September 3, 1983. Farther south, the Zoroastrian Association of Houston (ZAH) was founded in 1976 and the Zarathushti Heritage and Cultural Center established over 20 years later. Across the nation, additional Zoroastrian Associations followed in places such as Metropolitan Washington, Greater Boston, Kansas, Washington state, Arizona, and the tri-state region of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware.
In addition to these formal associations, small Zoroastrian groups have formed in many other American communities, including groups in Detroit, New Orleans, Central Florida, and the Maritimes Provinces of Canada.

Every community in the United States brings together Iranian and Parsi Zarathustis as contributing members; however, some associations continue to have parallel schedules for the two communities, with only a few annual events being celebrated by the community as a whole. Other associations are making special efforts to unite the community. In Washington, D.C., the Zoroastrian Association of Metropolitan Washington, Inc. (ZAMWI) began publishing a bilingual newsletter in 1989, and today all of their publications include Farsi translations; in Washington state, the Zoroastrian Society of Washington State (ZSWS) adopted the Fasli calendar in 1994 to encourage joint observations of religious events. The differences, while acute, are beginning to fade with the next generation. As one Bay Area Zoroastrian commented, “soon there will no longer be Parsi Zoroastrians or Iranian Zoroastrians; we will simply be American Zoroastrians.”

Most American and Canadian Zoroastrian associations are united under the auspices of the umbrella organization the Federation of Zoroastrian Associations of North America (FEZANA), which celebrated its 25th anniversary in 2017. This organization publishes the quarterly FEZANA Journal and operates via numerous standing and ad-hoc committees and sponsors congresses, youth events, religious education seminars, and special projects to unify the community. Its aim is to represent a community with a diverse spectrum of Zoroastrian theologies while maintaining neutrality on controversial or divisive issues, thereby seeking to honor the autonomous approach outlined in its organizational constitution.

A vital and vibrant component of FEZANA’s membership is the Canadian Zoroastrian community. Some of the oldest North American Zoroastrian associations still thriving today were established in Canada. Today, there are three Canadian dar-e-mehrs, one in Toronto, another in Mississauga, and a third in Vancouver.
American Zoroastrianism is already emerging with its own, distinct face: Zoroastrian youth participate in annual events, from overnight camps to “Z-Ski” trips to the Zoroastrian Olympics. Just over the border in Toronto, there is a Zoroastrian scout troop. Founded in 1990, Troop Toronto 100 continues to thrive today. The community also comes together regularly for Zoroastrian congresses, including FEZANA’s North American Zoroastrian Congress; the North American Youth Congress; the World Zoroastrian Youth Congress; and, more recently, the North American International Gatha/Avesta Conference, under the auspices of the Council of Scholars on Zoroastrianism.

Members of this ancient faith are also active online: numerous websites cover everything from a basic introduction to the religion to advanced sites teaching the Avestan alphabet and including religious texts and their translations. Other sites feature online Zoroastrian match-making services and pages maintained by groups and individuals who strongly advocate a particular school of thought, from the “reformist” Zarathushtrian Assembly to the Traditional Mazdayasni Zoroastrian Anjuman. In addition, there are Zoroastrian bulletin boards and discussion groups, as well as a special listing of Zoroastrians on e-mail, known as “Z-mail.”

The Zoroastrian presence in America is often overlooked. It is a small community with a brief history on this continent with significant immigration taking place only within the past five decades. Until then, the most tangible link between America and the oft-overlooked Zoroastrian faith was found in an unlikely place: a prominent 7,136-foot rocky peak in the Grand Canyon by the name of “Zoroaster Temple.” When the temple was named, there were no known Zoroastrians in North America; today, there are over 15,000, with six U.S. dar-e-mehrs and a host of organizations and associations scattered across the United States. FEZANA’s Zoroastrian Sports Committee now sponsors trips to the Grand Canyon. American Zoroastrians are making history, bringing together two ancient communities as they build places of worship, form organizations, and endeavor to make their own unique contributions to the American mosaic.


Cheers, Doc
 
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Zoroastrianism Rises in North America
The faith is shrinking in Iran and India but growing in the U.S. and Canada.


By Amy DePaul
June 25, 2020 7:13 pm ET

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A Zoroastrian faravahar in Kerman, Iran, April 2016.
PHOTO: GETTY IMAGES

Most elementary-school boys spend their free time playing videogames or hanging out with friends. Zerkxis Bhandara’s childhood was a bit different. He started training to become a Zoroastrian priest when he was 9.

Mr. Bhandara, whose family traces its lineage to a 12th-century Indian cleric, was born into the role. But the 25-year-old graduate student from Irvine, Calif., pushed back on his early religious obligations. “Oh gosh, I was a bad student,” he recalls. There were classes. Homework. “Like every 9-year-old, I would rather do any other thing.”

Yet by 11 he became an ordained Zoroastrian priest—helping his father preside over weddings, death prayers and youth initiation ceremonies. In high school he wore religious garb under his regular clothes—a white undershirt called a sudreh and a knotted sash, or kusti. “It dawned on me,” he says. “I have to be an example for the community.”

Now he finds refuge at his community’s fire temple, the Zoroastrian house of worship, which hosts a gas flame that never goes out. “To Zoroastrians, fire is the physical form of God’s energy. It’s in all Zoroastrian rituals,” Mr. Bhandara explains. “We say that the fire has warmth and light. Light is a metaphor that cuts through the darkness of ignorance, bringing one face to face with the truth of the divine.”


The faith has taken a long journey from its origins in ancient Persia to the converted church in Orange, Calif., where Mr. Bhandara worships today. Zoroastrianism is arguably the world’s first monotheistic faith, with the oldest remains of fire temples dating back 4,000 years. The supreme deity in the faith is Ahura Mazda. Zoroaster, or Zarathustra in ancient Persian, was actually a prophet after whom the religion came to be known among Westerners.

Cyrus the Great, founder of the first Persian Empire circa 550 B.C., was a Zoroastrian. While Persia served as an incubator for the faith, a group of followers migrated to India following the seventh-century Muslim conquest. They thrived there. For more than 1,000 years India and Iran were the two areas most closely associated with Zoroastrianism, but that’s changing. Indian Zoroastrians began arriving in the U.S. and Canada in the 1960s and ’70s in relatively large numbers, while Iranian Zoroastrians came after the 1979 Islamic revolution.

No one knows exactly how many practice the faith around the globe today, but estimates are between 100,000 and 200,000. Indian Zoroastrianism is veering toward extinction as a result of low birthrates, and Iranian figures are harder to come by but much lower. Yet North American Zoroastrians likely have doubled, to as many as 35,000 in the past 15 years. That’s mostly due to immigration—and possibly some conversions.

Along with Mr. Bhandara’s Southern California temple, three new American houses of worship have been established in the past four years, from New York to Texas. Some of the faithful look to these high-profile venues as a hopeful sign. “Now Zoroastrians can do their prayers and rituals and religious classes,” says Dolly Dastoor, former president of the Federation of Zoroastrian Associations of North America. She says that the new temples have strengthened the community and “because of that, there is a little revival of the religion over here.”

The religion has adapted as it builds a new life in the West. But change has caused some tension. Converts and children born of mixed-faith marriages are not always viewed as Zoroastrian among more-orthodox practitioners. Indian immigrant Dilnavaz Bamboat of Milpitas, Calif., whose husband is Hindu, would not be able to raise her 5-year-old son officially as a Zoroastrian in her home community in Mumbai. But at her temple in California, he can take part in the youth initiation ceremony. There are many mixed marriages at her temple, which she says welcomes newcomers. Thanks to this openness, her community is looking for a larger venue.

“The way the community’s going in India, it’s definitely going to peter out,” Ms. Bamboat says. “I have a feeling it will morph and thrive in North America and elsewhere in the world.” But that may require reuniting Zoroastrian Indians, known as Parsis, and Iranian-American Zoroastrians, which have been riven by history for a millennium.

At Ms. Bamboat’s temple the two groups worship separately but maintain friendly relations. Zoroastrian leaders in North America hope this cordial cooperation can grow into something deeper and lasting. The survival of the faith may depend on it.

Ms. DePaul is a writer in Irvine, Calif.
Copyright ©2020 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved. 87990cbe856818d5eddac44c7b1cdeb8
Appeared in the June 26, 2020, print edition as '.'


Cheers, Doc
 
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Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran
BY EDITORIAL BOARD · PUBLISHED 4. FEBRUARY 2021 · UPDATED 4. FEBRUARY 2021

By Katja Rieck
Rethinking (Iranian) Nationalism from a Transnational and South-South Perspective

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Afshin Marashi, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran.


In his most recent monograph, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran (2020), Afshin Marashi provides a new perspective on Iranian nationalism. Dissatisfied with approaches that “have tended to focus more on the role of the cultural and intellectual encounter with European thought in shaping debates within Persian-language modernist texts of the 19th and 20th centuries” that “draw on diffusionist models of modernity based on the assumption that modernization is intimately linked to westernization and rooted in the dissemination of ideas from a European place of origin outward to the various colonial and semi-colonial regions of Asia and Africa” (12-13). It is a critique Marashi insists is applicable to both classical scholarly accounts of nationalism as well as to post-colonial paradigms. This study focusses attention on the role of non-Western intellectuals and South-South exchanges in the shaping of Iranian modernity and nationalism. Central to this process, Marashi insists, is the continuing legacy of the “Persianate zone” or “Persianate cosmopolis” that historically linked cultures and societies from Belgrad to Bengal from roughly the late 7th century. Taking inspiration from scholars like Kathryn Bayaban, Mana Kia, Daniel Sheffield, and Mohamad Tavakoli-Targhi, as well as Nile Green and Monica Ringer, he seeks to move beyond historiographical approaches limited by disciplinary divides of periodization (early modern vs. modern) and regional specialization (Middle East vs. South Asia).

At the center of his account lies the cultural and intellectual engagement between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians, particularly at the close of the 19th century up until World War II. This engagement, as Marashi insists, drew on pre-existing, early modern strands of the Persianate historical legacy from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. However, the shifting contexts of their respective political situations in the 19th and early 20th centuries “produced different historical outcomes for strands of culture emerging from the Persianate cultural landscape” (16). Hence a recurring theme throughout the book’s five chapters is the implicit and explicit tensions between differing understandings of Zoroastrianism and a shared classical Persianate heritage. Hence, Bombay Parsis looked on their religious and cultural heritage from the perspective of a favored minority community under multicultural colonial rule and so tended to articulate liberal, cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of Zoroastrianism and Indo-Iranian classical heritage. Zoroastrian and non-Zoroastrian Iranian intellectuals, on the other hand, looked to this classical heritage and Zoroastrianism as “a cultural blueprint to serve as the basis for a radical project of compensatory transformation characteristic of defensive nation-building projects” (16). The resulting interpretations were culturally assertive and exclusionary (particularly towards Iran’s Arab-Islamicate heritage). By looking at the contrasting trajectories that resulted from Iranian-Parsi exchanges, Marashi aims to explore how to conceptualize networks of connection that were made possible in the Indian Ocean world due to steam and print technologies. While it is generally assumed that the resulting increased density and intensity of exchange networks would create an ethos of cosmopolitanism, the story of Parsi-Iranian exchange shows the picture to be far more complicated: “A close reading of the Parsi-Iranian exchange will therefore detail a fuller range of cultural, emotional, and philosophical complexities emerging from one such encounter in the Indian Ocean ecumene, as well as the concomitant cultural and political outcomes that those encounters produced” (19).

Combining a Focus on Biographies and Actor Networks with Analysis of Seminal Texts

Marashi’s study analyses developments in emergent Iranian nationalism by examining the intellectual biographies and networks of key actors in the Zoroastrian revival and Iranian nationalism and the discursive structures of their most influential works. Chapter 1, entitled “To Bombay and Back – Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrok and the Reinvention of Iranian Zoroastrianism”, focuses on the contradiction between liberal Parsi and Iranian nationalist readings of Iran’s Zoroastrian heritage as played out in a family drama between Kaykhosow Sharokh, the liberal Zoroastrian reformer, longtime Majles Deputy, and Persian cultural activist and his son Shah-Bahram Shahrokh. The chapter details Kaykhosow Shahrokh’s political activities, not least his seminal role in anchoring a definition of Iranian citizenship that institutionalized the legal equality of non-Muslim minorities as “Iranian subjects” in the emergent Iranian nation-state as well as his efforts towards promoting Zoroastrian life in Teheran. His lasting influence, however, can also be attributed to two important works he penned following a stay among the Parsi community in Bombay, the A’ineh-ya A’in-e Mazdayasna (1907) and the Fourugh-e Mazdayasna (1909). In these works, he formulated the doctrines of a modernist and reformed interpretation of Zoroastrianism for schoolchildren and lay Zoroastrian readers, but also for an audience of non-Zoroastrian Iranian readers exploring Iran’s (pre-Islamic) cultural, religious, and political heritage. While both texts play a seminal role in “authenticating modernity” in a Zoroastrian/Persian context (39), Marashi also shows how Shahrokh’s openness to re-evaluating Zoroastrian thought in light of contemporary intellectual developments did not preclude problematic tendencies to integrate ideas concerning language, race (particularly Aryan race theory), cultural purity, and exclusionary understandings of the nation that were in tension with his liberal, democratic, and politically pluralist politics. This discursive ambivalence, Marashi argues, is reflective of the same conditions of possibility that fostered some Iranians’ sympathies to Nazi ideology and the Nazi regime in Germany, reflected in the activities of Shahrokh’s own son Bahram, who became head of Nazi-Germany’s Persian-language programming on Radio Berlin. This tension between cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of a progressive Zoroastrianism and exclusionary assertions of the authenticity and cultural/racial purity as foundations of Iranian national heritage is a theme that is revisited in all chapters that follow.

Chapter 2
, “Patron and Patriot – Dinsha J. Irani, Parsi Philanthropy, and the Revival of Indo-Iranian Culture”, turns to the life and work of Dinshah Irani, a civic leader among Bombay Zoroastrians and co-founder of the Iran League and the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman as well as a prolific author of books on Zoroastrianism intended for export to Iran. It highlights the important role the Bombay Parsi community played in the rediscovery of Iran’s pre-Islamic/Zoroastrian cultural heritage that would come to shape the refashioning of an Iranian national culture commensurate with the demands of modernity. As Bombay Parsis became increasingly concerned and engaged with their ancestral place of origin to bolster their revivalist efforts to bring Zoroastrianism in line with the demands of modern life, they became aware that their brethren in Iran were not so well situated. This sparked a flow of philanthropic interventions from South Asia back to Iran, targeted at their Zoroastrian brethren but available to all, that also included opportunities for educational and economic advancement. Book publishing was part of this project of upliftment, to which Dinshah Irani also actively contributed as an author. His works aimed not only to educate Zoroastrian youth and lay readers on modernist understandings of the Zoroastrian religion (as formulated by the Parsi community in South Asia), but also served to promote the Zoroastrian historical and cultural heritage vis-à-vis non-Zoroastrian Iranians. Ultimately, Irani, and other members of the South Asian Zoroastrian revival, sought to foster a dialog between Zoroastrians and Muslim Iranian society to bring Zoroastrianism more fully into the center of emerging notions of Iranian national identity, thereby uplifting the place of Zoroastrian brethren in Iranian society. Aryan race theory, again, provided a means of generating a shared (racial) genealogy that linked ancient and modern Zoroastrians to contemporary (Muslim) Iranians by casting them as their ancestral predecessors. The language of Iranian gnostic Sufism (‘erfān) had already in Safavid Iran and Mughal South Asia intermingled with Zoroastrianism and so provided Irani and other Zoroastrian activists an additional discursive tradition on which to draw to communicate the message of Zoroastrianism in an ecumenical context and to reconcile Iran’s Zoroastrian with its Islamic heritage. Irani’s texts thus show how a place was carved out for Zoroastrianism to become part of a liberal, pluralistic Iranian national identity. Noteworthy with regard to the role of circulating texts and emergent conceptions of Iranian nationalism is that while classical works on nationalism have focused on the role of local print capitalism in the formation of imagined national communities (Anderson [1983]1991), Marashi shows that it was rather a transnational print philanthropy that enabled the circulation of texts between Bombay and the Zoroastrian communities in Iran and contributed to the formation of modern Iranian national identity.

Chapter 3
, “Imagining Hafez – Rabindranath Tagore in Iran”, examines Tagore’s month-long visit to Iran in 1932 that ultimately served to bolster the moral and intellectual authority of Indo-Iranian civilization in the Iranian nation-state as it was being institutionalized under Reza Shah Pahlavi. A closer study of this event, however, shows that its organization and execution involved numerous actors, each with their own agendas. For the Indian poet, artist, and cultural activist Tagore, Iran was an important site for his pan-Asian anti-colonial project of cultural revival as it represented a greater Indo-Iranian civilization with its own unique moral and aesthetic spirit that was counterposed to that of ‘the West’ with its Greco-Roman roots. Much like Dinshah Irani, Tagore’s vision of Indo-Iranian classical heritage, valued not only in the culture and civilizational achievements of pre-Islamic (Zoroastrian) Iran but also mystical Islam and the poetic legacy of Sa‘di and Hafez that had long linked Central and South Asia via religious, literary and artistic contacts sustained not only through the flow of texts but also through migration and travel. For Tagore’s Iranian hosts, not least the Pahlavi regime, their honored guest represented the embodiment of a lost Iranian cultural authenticity defined by deep Indo-Aryan roots. Hence, the visit was seen as a symbolic return and cultural assertion of a (non-Muslim) cultural authenticity. So, while for Tagore the poetry of Sa‘di and Hafez were part of Indo-Iranian civilization by virtue of a shared spiritual essence that had its roots in earliest times of the pre-Islamic period that connected Zoroastrianism and Islam by a shared civilizational essence, for Reza Shah and other members of the emergent nationalist project in Iran this poetic legacy was a symbol of how Indo-Iranian Aryan civilization had resisted Islamic cultural hegemony. The chapter closes with a discussion of the voices critical of Tagore’s visit (of which there were rather few). The Muslim-Indian poet Muhammad Iqbal, the Parsi scholar G.K. Nariman, and the Iranian-Tajiki Persian poet and socialist activist Abolqasem Lahuti expressed their concerns about how Tagore’s visit and his vision of an inclusive liberal Indo-Iranian civilization played into political projects that united Hindu nationalists, Parsis, and Iranian nationalists in a shared anti-Muslim project while also tacitly giving support to the oppressive authoritarianism of the Pahlavi state. These critiques again highlight how contemporaries were quite aware of how formulations of Iranian national identity that drew on a “classical” Zoroastrian heritage were also feeding authoritarianism and exclusionism.

The life and work of Ebrahim Purdavud is the focus of chapter 4 “Ebrahim Purdavud and His Interlocutors – Parsi Patronage and the Making of the Vernacular Avesta”. As Marashi argues, Purdavud, himself from a pious Shi’ite family in Northwestern Iran and not a member of the Zoroastrian community, made the most significant contribution to Parsi-Iranian exchanges. The chapter traces Ebrahim Purdavud’s physical travels and intellectual development from poet and activist to independent scholar of pre-Islamic Iran whose commented translations of key Zoroastrian texts into lyrical modern Persian were seminal to linking Persian identity with a pre-Islamic “classical golden era” among a broader (non-Zoroastrian readership), making it available as the foundation of modern Persian nationalist thought. In so doing, the chapter highlights the importance of the complex networks of exchange between Iranian expatriates living in Europe or other parts of the Middle East, European Orientalists, and the German Foreign Ministry, each in pursuit of their own multiple political projects and interests, in the formulation and propagation of Iranian nationalist thought. It also discusses the continued role again played by Bombay Parsi individuals and philanthropic institutions not only in facilitating and financing the production of works, like those of Purdavud, that would become key to the formulation of modern nationalist Persian identity, but also in shaping the knowledge on which these works were based by acting as cultural mediators, gatekeepers, and experts. As Marashi argues, it is ultimately the multiple agendas at play that overdetermine the project of excavating an Indo-Iranian classical heritage. The cosmopolitan and inclusive interpretations of this heritage, such as those paradigmatically propagated by members of the Bombay Parsi and Iranian Zoroastrian communities, existed alongside exclusivist interpretations shaped by projects to salvage an Aryan authenticity by breaking with Central and South Asia’s Arab-Turkic-Islamicate past, as would become the case with Reza Shah’s cultural policy and was implicitly the case in Purdavud’s scholarly engagement. As Marashi notes, “… the Zoroastrian revival was always more about distinguishing the real and authentic Iranian culture from the layers of inauthentic cultural accretions that Iran’s national heritage had acquired over the long duration of its history” (185). The non-classical elements of this history, most notably the Arab, Turkic and Muslim ones, came to be decried as foreign impositions from which the nation must liberate itself. However, during the interwar period, the tension between Iranian Zoroastrian and Bombay Parsi inclusionary interpretations of Iran’s pre-Islamic heritage and the tendentially more exclusionary understandings of Iranian nationalists like Purdavud remained implicit and did not lead to conflict. However, with the shifting political climate in the context of the rise on Nazi ideology and the approach of the Second World War this would change.

The effects of this shift in political climate are taken up in chapter 5 “Sword of Freedom – Abdulrahman Saif Azad and the Interwar Iranian Nationalism”. By tracing the biographical trajectory of Abdulrahman Saif Azad tensions between the contrasting interpretations of Zoroastrianism and Iran’s classical heritage become explicit, leading to a break with the Bombay Parsi community. The chapter recounts the activities of Abdulrahman Saif Azad, an anti-colonial activist and by the 1930s also a Nazi sympathizer. Saif Azad sought out Parsi financial support to publish Iran-e Bastan (“Ancient Iran”) a Tehran newspaper that appeared between 1933 and 1935. Initially promoting liberal and cosmopolitan interpretations of Iran’s Zoroastrian and Persianate heritage, in line with the agenda of his Parsi benefactors, Saif Azad began to change the newspaper’s focus and ideological orientation as he became increasingly supportive of the Nazi cause and found new supporters in the Nazi government’s propaganda bureau. As a result, the Parsis withdrew their support of Saif Azad’s enterprise, and the newspaper ceased publication by 1935. Saif Azad, however, continued his anti-imperial, anti-British, pro-Nazi politics by starting a new English-Persian paper, Salar-e Hend, that put the focus on topics of economic and social autonomy and portrayed local Indian Rajas as worthy leaders of an (independent) India, including Nazi symbols and references along the way. Marashi’s account of Saif Azad’s political trajectory illustrates the conflicts in interwar Iranian nationalist politics that were shaped by transnationally circulating conceptions of Iranian nationalism, and the cultural heritage in which it was ostensibly rooted, as well as by the larger political contexts in which anti-imperialism, post-colonial nationalism, and Nazi fascism intermingled.

Marashi’s Take-Away Lessons from the Indo-Iranian Exchange

The book’s conclusion is brief and returns to the point that in the formative decades of Iranian nationalism from the early 20th century until the end of World War II numerous ideological strands existed side by side: liberal pluralistic and democratic versions as well as exclusionary ones that advocated policies of cultural authenticity and purification and aligned themselves with fascist movements. These strands provided the conditions of possibility for subsequent developments in Iranian nationalism, most notably the conservative politics of official Pahlavi nationalism of the late 1960s. Further, Marashi returns to the importance of giving greater attention to South-South exchanges, like the ones between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians and nationalists portrayed in this account that have been integral to the formation and development of nationalist movements outside of Europe. Such exchanges highlight the lasting legacies of historical entanglements, such as those of the Persianate world, without which the culture of Neo-Zoroastrianism or conceptions of an (Indo-)Iranian classical heritage would not have been possible.

Less convincing is his final assessment that conceptions of Iranian neoclassicism have greater relevance to Iranians in the diaspora than in Iran proper. This overlooks developments in the past few decades during which Iranians have been critically reassessing the state of their nation, and in so doing have once again looked to their pre-Islamic heritage for inspiration and orientation (Abdolmohamadi 2015, Fozi 2016).
Marashi’s account thus also shows itself to be relevant for contextualizing contemporary developments in cultural and political discourse in Iran itself, and not just in its diaspora communities, which like the actors in this book are linked by manifold exchanges and flows.

So, Was It Worth the Read?

Definitely. The account is extremely complex, linking the Parsi community in Bombay with Iranian nationalists in Iran, and with Iranian and Parsi expatriates in France, Germany, Turkey, Lebanon, Iraq and the United States. The perspective in this study is truly transnational, and its approach offers methodological as well as substantive inspiration for future studies. For example, a number of personalities make cameo appearances in this account and would warrant further attention, not least someone like Madam Bhikaiji Rustom Cama, a leading anti-colonial activist residing in London and Paris whose activities not only highlight the interconnections between anti-colonial and nationalist movements in the global South, but also the role of women in these networks. Also important is the explicit attention to South-South exchanges in the shaping of nationalisms, and on the role of philanthropic networks in that process that in this case overshadow the capitalist interconnections (that are, however, not discussed). In this sense the monograph is valuable reading for all scholars of nationalism. That said, the complexity of the narrative means that the author cannot explicate regionally specific background information for those without previous knowledge of Iran or the Persianate world. Hence, some of the nuances of the account are lost on non-specialist readers, particularly the references to elements of the early modern Persianate legacy, which are referred to but not presented in detail. One can also find oneself a bit lost with regard to dating developments in the account, as the narrative is structured around five key actors and does not follow a strictly linear timeline. However, because Marashi focusses on biography and interpersonal networks, a non-specialist reader interested in cultural revivalism, nationalism, anti-colonialism, and transnational approaches to historiography will still find the account an intellectually provocative and engaging read.

Bibliography:
Anderson, Benedict ([1983]1991): Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Abdolmohamadi, Pejman (2015): The Revival of Nationalism and Secularism in Modern Iran. LSE Middle East Centre Papers, 11.
Fozi, Navid (2016): “Neo-Iranian Nationalism: Pre-Islamic Grandeur and Shi’i Eschatology in President Mahmud Ahmadinejad’s Rhetoric”, Middle East Journal, 70(2): 227-248.
Kia, Mana and Afshin Marashi (2016): “Introduction: After the Persianate”, Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East, 36(3), 379-383

Citation: Katja Rieck, Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 04.02.2021, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/26466.


Quite fascinating, and ties in well with what I have been educating various successive generations of PDF readers here (Indian, Pakistani and Iranian) over the past 10 years in my various allowed and tolerated avatars.

@waz @WebMaster @SQ8 @AgNoStiC MuSliM @masterchief_mirza @fitpOsitive @peagle @Baibars_1260 @El Sidd @Cookie Monster @Indus Pakistan @OldenWisdom...قول بزرگ
@third eye @Sam. @Bagheera @Chhatrapati @Sharma Ji @Juggernaut_Flat_Plane_V8 @T90TankGuy @Joe Shearer @IMARV @
@Cthulhu @Arian @Dariush the Great @aryobarzan @Xerxes22 @Bahram Esfandiari @925boy

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc
 
Last edited:
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marashi_7011_jkt.jpg


Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran
BY EDITORIAL BOARD · PUBLISHED 4. FEBRUARY 2021 · UPDATED 4. FEBRUARY 2021

By Katja Rieck
Rethinking (Iranian) Nationalism from a Transnational and South-South Perspective

marashi_7011_jkt-200x300.jpg

Afshin Marashi, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran.


In his most recent monograph, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran (2020), Afshin Marashi provides a new perspective on Iranian nationalism. Dissatisfied with approaches that “have tended to focus more on the role of the cultural and intellectual encounter with European thought in shaping debates within Persian-language modernist texts of the 19th and 20th centuries” that “draw on diffusionist models of modernity based on the assumption that modernization is intimately linked to westernization and rooted in the dissemination of ideas from a European place of origin outward to the various colonial and semi-colonial regions of Asia and Africa” (12-13). It is a critique Marashi insists is applicable to both classical scholarly accounts of nationalism as well as to post-colonial paradigms. This study focusses attention on the role of non-Western intellectuals and South-South exchanges in the shaping of Iranian modernity and nationalism. Central to this process, Marashi insists, is the continuing legacy of the “Persianate zone” or “Persianate cosmopolis” that historically linked cultures and societies from Belgrad to Bengal from roughly the late 7th century. Taking inspiration from scholars like Kathryn Bayaban, Mana Kia, Daniel Sheffield, and Mohamad Tavakoli-Targhi, as well as Nile Green and Monica Ringer, he seeks to move beyond historiographical approaches limited by disciplinary divides of periodization (early modern vs. modern) and regional specialization (Middle East vs. South Asia).

At the center of his account lies the cultural and intellectual engagement between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians, particularly at the close of the 19th century up until World War II. This engagement, as Marashi insists, drew on pre-existing, early modern strands of the Persianate historical legacy from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. However, the shifting contexts of their respective political situations in the 19th and early 20th centuries “produced different historical outcomes for strands of culture emerging from the Persianate cultural landscape” (16). Hence a recurring theme throughout the book’s five chapters is the implicit and explicit tensions between differing understandings of Zoroastrianism and a shared classical Persianate heritage. Hence, Bombay Parsis looked on their religious and cultural heritage from the perspective of a favored minority community under multicultural colonial rule and so tended to articulate liberal, cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of Zoroastrianism and Indo-Iranian classical heritage. Zoroastrian and non-Zoroastrian Iranian intellectuals, on the other hand, looked to this classical heritage and Zoroastrianism as “a cultural blueprint to serve as the basis for a radical project of compensatory transformation characteristic of defensive nation-building projects” (16). The resulting interpretations were culturally assertive and exclusionary (particularly towards Iran’s Arab-Islamicate heritage). By looking at the contrasting trajectories that resulted from Iranian-Parsi exchanges, Marashi aims to explore how to conceptualize networks of connection that were made possible in the Indian Ocean world due to steam and print technologies. While it is generally assumed that the resulting increased density and intensity of exchange networks would create an ethos of cosmopolitanism, the story of Parsi-Iranian exchange shows the picture to be far more complicated: “A close reading of the Parsi-Iranian exchange will therefore detail a fuller range of cultural, emotional, and philosophical complexities emerging from one such encounter in the Indian Ocean ecumene, as well as the concomitant cultural and political outcomes that those encounters produced” (19).

Combining a Focus on Biographies and Actor Networks with Analysis of Seminal Texts

Marashi’s study analyses developments in emergent Iranian nationalism by examining the intellectual biographies and networks of key actors in the Zoroastrian revival and Iranian nationalism and the discursive structures of their most influential works. Chapter 1, entitled “To Bombay and Back – Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrok and the Reinvention of Iranian Zoroastrianism”, focuses on the contradiction between liberal Parsi and Iranian nationalist readings of Iran’s Zoroastrian heritage as played out in a family drama between Kaykhosow Sharokh, the liberal Zoroastrian reformer, longtime Majles Deputy, and Persian cultural activist and his son Shah-Bahram Shahrokh. The chapter details Kaykhosow Shahrokh’s political activities, not least his seminal role in anchoring a definition of Iranian citizenship that institutionalized the legal equality of non-Muslim minorities as “Iranian subjects” in the emergent Iranian nation-state as well as his efforts towards promoting Zoroastrian life in Teheran. His lasting influence, however, can also be attributed to two important works he penned following a stay among the Parsi community in Bombay, the A’ineh-ya A’in-e Mazdayasna (1907) and the Fourugh-e Mazdayasna (1909). In these works, he formulated the doctrines of a modernist and reformed interpretation of Zoroastrianism for schoolchildren and lay Zoroastrian readers, but also for an audience of non-Zoroastrian Iranian readers exploring Iran’s (pre-Islamic) cultural, religious, and political heritage. While both texts play a seminal role in “authenticating modernity” in a Zoroastrian/Persian context (39), Marashi also shows how Shahrokh’s openness to re-evaluating Zoroastrian thought in light of contemporary intellectual developments did not preclude problematic tendencies to integrate ideas concerning language, race (particularly Aryan race theory), cultural purity, and exclusionary understandings of the nation that were in tension with his liberal, democratic, and politically pluralist politics. This discursive ambivalence, Marashi argues, is reflective of the same conditions of possibility that fostered some Iranians’ sympathies to Nazi ideology and the Nazi regime in Germany, reflected in the activities of Shahrokh’s own son Bahram, who became head of Nazi-Germany’s Persian-language programming on Radio Berlin. This tension between cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of a progressive Zoroastrianism and exclusionary assertions of the authenticity and cultural/racial purity as foundations of Iranian national heritage is a theme that is revisited in all chapters that follow.

Chapter 2
, “Patron and Patriot – Dinsha J. Irani, Parsi Philanthropy, and the Revival of Indo-Iranian Culture”, turns to the life and work of Dinshah Irani, a civic leader among Bombay Zoroastrians and co-founder of the Iran League and the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman as well as a prolific author of books on Zoroastrianism intended for export to Iran. It highlights the important role the Bombay Parsi community played in the rediscovery of Iran’s pre-Islamic/Zoroastrian cultural heritage that would come to shape the refashioning of an Iranian national culture commensurate with the demands of modernity. As Bombay Parsis became increasingly concerned and engaged with their ancestral place of origin to bolster their revivalist efforts to bring Zoroastrianism in line with the demands of modern life, they became aware that their brethren in Iran were not so well situated. This sparked a flow of philanthropic interventions from South Asia back to Iran, targeted at their Zoroastrian brethren but available to all, that also included opportunities for educational and economic advancement. Book publishing was part of this project of upliftment, to which Dinshah Irani also actively contributed as an author. His works aimed not only to educate Zoroastrian youth and lay readers on modernist understandings of the Zoroastrian religion (as formulated by the Parsi community in South Asia), but also served to promote the Zoroastrian historical and cultural heritage vis-à-vis non-Zoroastrian Iranians. Ultimately, Irani, and other members of the South Asian Zoroastrian revival, sought to foster a dialog between Zoroastrians and Muslim Iranian society to bring Zoroastrianism more fully into the center of emerging notions of Iranian national identity, thereby uplifting the place of Zoroastrian brethren in Iranian society. Aryan race theory, again, provided a means of generating a shared (racial) genealogy that linked ancient and modern Zoroastrians to contemporary (Muslim) Iranians by casting them as their ancestral predecessors. The language of Iranian gnostic Sufism (‘erfān) had already in Safavid Iran and Mughal South Asia intermingled with Zoroastrianism and so provided Irani and other Zoroastrian activists an additional discursive tradition on which to draw to communicate the message of Zoroastrianism in an ecumenical context and to reconcile Iran’s Zoroastrian with its Islamic heritage. Irani’s texts thus show how a place was carved out for Zoroastrianism to become part of a liberal, pluralistic Iranian national identity. Noteworthy with regard to the role of circulating texts and emergent conceptions of Iranian nationalism is that while classical works on nationalism have focused on the role of local print capitalism in the formation of imagined national communities (Anderson [1983]1991), Marashi shows that it was rather a transnational print philanthropy that enabled the circulation of texts between Bombay and the Zoroastrian communities in Iran and contributed to the formation of modern Iranian national identity.

Chapter 3
, “Imagining Hafez – Rabindranath Tagore in Iran”, examines Tagore’s month-long visit to Iran in 1932 that ultimately served to bolster the moral and intellectual authority of Indo-Iranian civilization in the Iranian nation-state as it was being institutionalized under Reza Shah Pahlavi. A closer study of this event, however, shows that its organization and execution involved numerous actors, each with their own agendas. For the Indian poet, artist, and cultural activist Tagore, Iran was an important site for his pan-Asian anti-colonial project of cultural revival as it represented a greater Indo-Iranian civilization with its own unique moral and aesthetic spirit that was counterposed to that of ‘the West’ with its Greco-Roman roots. Much like Dinshah Irani, Tagore’s vision of Indo-Iranian classical heritage, valued not only in the culture and civilizational achievements of pre-Islamic (Zoroastrian) Iran but also mystical Islam and the poetic legacy of Sa‘di and Hafez that had long linked Central and South Asia via religious, literary and artistic contacts sustained not only through the flow of texts but also through migration and travel. For Tagore’s Iranian hosts, not least the Pahlavi regime, their honored guest represented the embodiment of a lost Iranian cultural authenticity defined by deep Indo-Aryan roots. Hence, the visit was seen as a symbolic return and cultural assertion of a (non-Muslim) cultural authenticity. So, while for Tagore the poetry of Sa‘di and Hafez were part of Indo-Iranian civilization by virtue of a shared spiritual essence that had its roots in earliest times of the pre-Islamic period that connected Zoroastrianism and Islam by a shared civilizational essence, for Reza Shah and other members of the emergent nationalist project in Iran this poetic legacy was a symbol of how Indo-Iranian Aryan civilization had resisted Islamic cultural hegemony. The chapter closes with a discussion of the voices critical of Tagore’s visit (of which there were rather few). The Muslim-Indian poet Muhammad Iqbal, the Parsi scholar G.K. Nariman, and the Iranian-Tajiki Persian poet and socialist activist Abolqasem Lahuti expressed their concerns about how Tagore’s visit and his vision of an inclusive liberal Indo-Iranian civilization played into political projects that united Hindu nationalists, Parsis, and Iranian nationalists in a shared anti-Muslim project while also tacitly giving support to the oppressive authoritarianism of the Pahlavi state. These critiques again highlight how contemporaries were quite aware of how formulations of Iranian national identity that drew on a “classical” Zoroastrian heritage were also feeding authoritarianism and exclusionism.

The life and work of Ebrahim Purdavud is the focus of chapter 4 “Ebrahim Purdavud and His Interlocutors – Parsi Patronage and the Making of the Vernacular Avesta”. As Marashi argues, Purdavud, himself from a pious Shi’ite family in Northwestern Iran and not a member of the Zoroastrian community, made the most significant contribution to Parsi-Iranian exchanges. The chapter traces Ebrahim Purdavud’s physical travels and intellectual development from poet and activist to independent scholar of pre-Islamic Iran whose commented translations of key Zoroastrian texts into lyrical modern Persian were seminal to linking Persian identity with a pre-Islamic “classical golden era” among a broader (non-Zoroastrian readership), making it available as the foundation of modern Persian nationalist thought. In so doing, the chapter highlights the importance of the complex networks of exchange between Iranian expatriates living in Europe or other parts of the Middle East, European Orientalists, and the German Foreign Ministry, each in pursuit of their own multiple political projects and interests, in the formulation and propagation of Iranian nationalist thought. It also discusses the continued role again played by Bombay Parsi individuals and philanthropic institutions not only in facilitating and financing the production of works, like those of Purdavud, that would become key to the formulation of modern nationalist Persian identity, but also in shaping the knowledge on which these works were based by acting as cultural mediators, gatekeepers, and experts. As Marashi argues, it is ultimately the multiple agendas at play that overdetermine the project of excavating an Indo-Iranian classical heritage. The cosmopolitan and inclusive interpretations of this heritage, such as those paradigmatically propagated by members of the Bombay Parsi and Iranian Zoroastrian communities, existed alongside exclusivist interpretations shaped by projects to salvage an Aryan authenticity by breaking with Central and South Asia’s Arab-Turkic-Islamicate past, as would become the case with Reza Shah’s cultural policy and was implicitly the case in Purdavud’s scholarly engagement. As Marashi notes, “… the Zoroastrian revival was always more about distinguishing the real and authentic Iranian culture from the layers of inauthentic cultural accretions that Iran’s national heritage had acquired over the long duration of its history” (185). The non-classical elements of this history, most notably the Arab, Turkic and Muslim ones, came to be decried as foreign impositions from which the nation must liberate itself. However, during the interwar period, the tension between Iranian Zoroastrian and Bombay Parsi inclusionary interpretations of Iran’s pre-Islamic heritage and the tendentially more exclusionary understandings of Iranian nationalists like Purdavud remained implicit and did not lead to conflict. However, with the shifting political climate in the context of the rise on Nazi ideology and the approach of the Second World War this would change.

The effects of this shift in political climate are taken up in chapter 5 “Sword of Freedom – Abdulrahman Saif Azad and the Interwar Iranian Nationalism”. By tracing the biographical trajectory of Abdulrahman Saif Azad tensions between the contrasting interpretations of Zoroastrianism and Iran’s classical heritage become explicit, leading to a break with the Bombay Parsi community. The chapter recounts the activities of Abdulrahman Saif Azad, an anti-colonial activist and by the 1930s also a Nazi sympathizer. Saif Azad sought out Parsi financial support to publish Iran-e Bastan (“Ancient Iran”) a Tehran newspaper that appeared between 1933 and 1935. Initially promoting liberal and cosmopolitan interpretations of Iran’s Zoroastrian and Persianate heritage, in line with the agenda of his Parsi benefactors, Saif Azad began to change the newspaper’s focus and ideological orientation as he became increasingly supportive of the Nazi cause and found new supporters in the Nazi government’s propaganda bureau. As a result, the Parsis withdrew their support of Saif Azad’s enterprise, and the newspaper ceased publication by 1935. Saif Azad, however, continued his anti-imperial, anti-British, pro-Nazi politics by starting a new English-Persian paper, Salar-e Hend, that put the focus on topics of economic and social autonomy and portrayed local Indian Rajas as worthy leaders of an (independent) India, including Nazi symbols and references along the way. Marashi’s account of Saif Azad’s political trajectory illustrates the conflicts in interwar Iranian nationalist politics that were shaped by transnationally circulating conceptions of Iranian nationalism, and the cultural heritage in which it was ostensibly rooted, as well as by the larger political contexts in which anti-imperialism, post-colonial nationalism, and Nazi fascism intermingled.

Marashi’s Take-Away Lessons from the Indo-Iranian Exchange

The book’s conclusion is brief and returns to the point that in the formative decades of Iranian nationalism from the early 20th century until the end of World War II numerous ideological strands existed side by side: liberal pluralistic and democratic versions as well as exclusionary ones that advocated policies of cultural authenticity and purification and aligned themselves with fascist movements. These strands provided the conditions of possibility for subsequent developments in Iranian nationalism, most notably the conservative politics of official Pahlavi nationalism of the late 1960s. Further, Marashi returns to the importance of giving greater attention to South-South exchanges, like the ones between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians and nationalists portrayed in this account that have been integral to the formation and development of nationalist movements outside of Europe. Such exchanges highlight the lasting legacies of historical entanglements, such as those of the Persianate world, without which the culture of Neo-Zoroastrianism or conceptions of an (Indo-)Iranian classical heritage would not have been possible.

Less convincing is his final assessment that conceptions of Iranian neoclassicism have greater relevance to Iranians in the diaspora than in Iran proper. This overlooks developments in the past few decades during which Iranians have been critically reassessing the state of their nation, and in so doing have once again looked to their pre-Islamic heritage for inspiration and orientation (Abdolmohamadi 2015, Fozi 2016).
Marashi’s account thus also shows itself to be relevant for contextualizing contemporary developments in cultural and political discourse in Iran itself, and not just in its diaspora communities, which like the actors in this book are linked by manifold exchanges and flows.

So, Was It Worth the Read?

Definitely. The account is extremely complex, linking the Parsi community in Bombay with Iranian nationalists in Iran, and with Iranian and Parsi expatriates in France, Germany, Turkey, Lebanon, Iraq and the United States. The perspective in this study is truly transnational, and its approach offers methodological as well as substantive inspiration for future studies. For example, a number of personalities make cameo appearances in this account and would warrant further attention, not least someone like Madam Bhikaiji Rustom Cama, a leading anti-colonial activist residing in London and Paris whose activities not only highlight the interconnections between anti-colonial and nationalist movements in the global South, but also the role of women in these networks. Also important is the explicit attention to South-South exchanges in the shaping of nationalisms, and on the role of philanthropic networks in that process that in this case overshadow the capitalist interconnections (that are, however, not discussed). In this sense the monograph is valuable reading for all scholars of nationalism. That said, the complexity of the narrative means that the author cannot explicate regionally specific background information for those without previous knowledge of Iran or the Persianate world. Hence, some of the nuances of the account are lost on non-specialist readers, particularly the references to elements of the early modern Persianate legacy, which are referred to but not presented in detail. One can also find oneself a bit lost with regard to dating developments in the account, as the narrative is structured around five key actors and does not follow a strictly linear timeline. However, because Marashi focusses on biography and interpersonal networks, a non-specialist reader interested in cultural revivalism, nationalism, anti-colonialism, and transnational approaches to historiography will still find the account an intellectually provocative and engaging read.

Bibliography:
Anderson, Benedict ([1983]1991): Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Abdolmohamadi, Pejman (2015): The Revival of Nationalism and Secularism in Modern Iran. LSE Middle East Centre Papers, 11.
Fozi, Navid (2016): “Neo-Iranian Nationalism: Pre-Islamic Grandeur and Shi’i Eschatology in President Mahmud Ahmadinejad’s Rhetoric”, Middle East Journal, 70(2): 227-248.
Kia, Mana and Afshin Marashi (2016): “Introduction: After the Persianate”, Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East, 36(3), 379-383

Citation: Katja Rieck, Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 04.02.2021, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/26466.


Quite fascinating, and ties in well with what I have been educating various successive generations of PDF readers here (Indian, Pakistani and Iranian) over the past 10 years in my various allowed and tolerated avatars.

@waz @WebMaster @SQ8 @AgNoStiC MuSliM @masterchief_mirza @fitpOsitive @peagle @Baibars_1260 @El Sidd @Cookie Monster @Indus Pakistan @OldenWisdom...قول بزرگ
@third eye @Sam. @Bagheera @Chhatrapati @Sharma Ji @Juggernaut_Flat_Plane_V8 @T90TankGuy @Joe Shearer @IMARV @
@Cthulhu @Arian @Dariush the Great @aryobarzan @Xerxes22 @Bahram Esfandiari

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc

I'll give it a read.
The community here in the UK is an interesting one.
 
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marashi_7011_jkt.jpg


Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran
BY EDITORIAL BOARD · PUBLISHED 4. FEBRUARY 2021 · UPDATED 4. FEBRUARY 2021

By Katja Rieck
Rethinking (Iranian) Nationalism from a Transnational and South-South Perspective

marashi_7011_jkt-200x300.jpg

Afshin Marashi, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran.


In his most recent monograph, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran (2020), Afshin Marashi provides a new perspective on Iranian nationalism. Dissatisfied with approaches that “have tended to focus more on the role of the cultural and intellectual encounter with European thought in shaping debates within Persian-language modernist texts of the 19th and 20th centuries” that “draw on diffusionist models of modernity based on the assumption that modernization is intimately linked to westernization and rooted in the dissemination of ideas from a European place of origin outward to the various colonial and semi-colonial regions of Asia and Africa” (12-13). It is a critique Marashi insists is applicable to both classical scholarly accounts of nationalism as well as to post-colonial paradigms. This study focusses attention on the role of non-Western intellectuals and South-South exchanges in the shaping of Iranian modernity and nationalism. Central to this process, Marashi insists, is the continuing legacy of the “Persianate zone” or “Persianate cosmopolis” that historically linked cultures and societies from Belgrad to Bengal from roughly the late 7th century. Taking inspiration from scholars like Kathryn Bayaban, Mana Kia, Daniel Sheffield, and Mohamad Tavakoli-Targhi, as well as Nile Green and Monica Ringer, he seeks to move beyond historiographical approaches limited by disciplinary divides of periodization (early modern vs. modern) and regional specialization (Middle East vs. South Asia).

At the center of his account lies the cultural and intellectual engagement between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians, particularly at the close of the 19th century up until World War II. This engagement, as Marashi insists, drew on pre-existing, early modern strands of the Persianate historical legacy from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. However, the shifting contexts of their respective political situations in the 19th and early 20th centuries “produced different historical outcomes for strands of culture emerging from the Persianate cultural landscape” (16). Hence a recurring theme throughout the book’s five chapters is the implicit and explicit tensions between differing understandings of Zoroastrianism and a shared classical Persianate heritage. Hence, Bombay Parsis looked on their religious and cultural heritage from the perspective of a favored minority community under multicultural colonial rule and so tended to articulate liberal, cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of Zoroastrianism and Indo-Iranian classical heritage. Zoroastrian and non-Zoroastrian Iranian intellectuals, on the other hand, looked to this classical heritage and Zoroastrianism as “a cultural blueprint to serve as the basis for a radical project of compensatory transformation characteristic of defensive nation-building projects” (16). The resulting interpretations were culturally assertive and exclusionary (particularly towards Iran’s Arab-Islamicate heritage). By looking at the contrasting trajectories that resulted from Iranian-Parsi exchanges, Marashi aims to explore how to conceptualize networks of connection that were made possible in the Indian Ocean world due to steam and print technologies. While it is generally assumed that the resulting increased density and intensity of exchange networks would create an ethos of cosmopolitanism, the story of Parsi-Iranian exchange shows the picture to be far more complicated: “A close reading of the Parsi-Iranian exchange will therefore detail a fuller range of cultural, emotional, and philosophical complexities emerging from one such encounter in the Indian Ocean ecumene, as well as the concomitant cultural and political outcomes that those encounters produced” (19).

Combining a Focus on Biographies and Actor Networks with Analysis of Seminal Texts

Marashi’s study analyses developments in emergent Iranian nationalism by examining the intellectual biographies and networks of key actors in the Zoroastrian revival and Iranian nationalism and the discursive structures of their most influential works. Chapter 1, entitled “To Bombay and Back – Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrok and the Reinvention of Iranian Zoroastrianism”, focuses on the contradiction between liberal Parsi and Iranian nationalist readings of Iran’s Zoroastrian heritage as played out in a family drama between Kaykhosow Sharokh, the liberal Zoroastrian reformer, longtime Majles Deputy, and Persian cultural activist and his son Shah-Bahram Shahrokh. The chapter details Kaykhosow Shahrokh’s political activities, not least his seminal role in anchoring a definition of Iranian citizenship that institutionalized the legal equality of non-Muslim minorities as “Iranian subjects” in the emergent Iranian nation-state as well as his efforts towards promoting Zoroastrian life in Teheran. His lasting influence, however, can also be attributed to two important works he penned following a stay among the Parsi community in Bombay, the A’ineh-ya A’in-e Mazdayasna (1907) and the Fourugh-e Mazdayasna (1909). In these works, he formulated the doctrines of a modernist and reformed interpretation of Zoroastrianism for schoolchildren and lay Zoroastrian readers, but also for an audience of non-Zoroastrian Iranian readers exploring Iran’s (pre-Islamic) cultural, religious, and political heritage. While both texts play a seminal role in “authenticating modernity” in a Zoroastrian/Persian context (39), Marashi also shows how Shahrokh’s openness to re-evaluating Zoroastrian thought in light of contemporary intellectual developments did not preclude problematic tendencies to integrate ideas concerning language, race (particularly Aryan race theory), cultural purity, and exclusionary understandings of the nation that were in tension with his liberal, democratic, and politically pluralist politics. This discursive ambivalence, Marashi argues, is reflective of the same conditions of possibility that fostered some Iranians’ sympathies to Nazi ideology and the Nazi regime in Germany, reflected in the activities of Shahrokh’s own son Bahram, who became head of Nazi-Germany’s Persian-language programming on Radio Berlin. This tension between cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of a progressive Zoroastrianism and exclusionary assertions of the authenticity and cultural/racial purity as foundations of Iranian national heritage is a theme that is revisited in all chapters that follow.

Chapter 2
, “Patron and Patriot – Dinsha J. Irani, Parsi Philanthropy, and the Revival of Indo-Iranian Culture”, turns to the life and work of Dinshah Irani, a civic leader among Bombay Zoroastrians and co-founder of the Iran League and the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman as well as a prolific author of books on Zoroastrianism intended for export to Iran. It highlights the important role the Bombay Parsi community played in the rediscovery of Iran’s pre-Islamic/Zoroastrian cultural heritage that would come to shape the refashioning of an Iranian national culture commensurate with the demands of modernity. As Bombay Parsis became increasingly concerned and engaged with their ancestral place of origin to bolster their revivalist efforts to bring Zoroastrianism in line with the demands of modern life, they became aware that their brethren in Iran were not so well situated. This sparked a flow of philanthropic interventions from South Asia back to Iran, targeted at their Zoroastrian brethren but available to all, that also included opportunities for educational and economic advancement. Book publishing was part of this project of upliftment, to which Dinshah Irani also actively contributed as an author. His works aimed not only to educate Zoroastrian youth and lay readers on modernist understandings of the Zoroastrian religion (as formulated by the Parsi community in South Asia), but also served to promote the Zoroastrian historical and cultural heritage vis-à-vis non-Zoroastrian Iranians. Ultimately, Irani, and other members of the South Asian Zoroastrian revival, sought to foster a dialog between Zoroastrians and Muslim Iranian society to bring Zoroastrianism more fully into the center of emerging notions of Iranian national identity, thereby uplifting the place of Zoroastrian brethren in Iranian society. Aryan race theory, again, provided a means of generating a shared (racial) genealogy that linked ancient and modern Zoroastrians to contemporary (Muslim) Iranians by casting them as their ancestral predecessors. The language of Iranian gnostic Sufism (‘erfān) had already in Safavid Iran and Mughal South Asia intermingled with Zoroastrianism and so provided Irani and other Zoroastrian activists an additional discursive tradition on which to draw to communicate the message of Zoroastrianism in an ecumenical context and to reconcile Iran’s Zoroastrian with its Islamic heritage. Irani’s texts thus show how a place was carved out for Zoroastrianism to become part of a liberal, pluralistic Iranian national identity. Noteworthy with regard to the role of circulating texts and emergent conceptions of Iranian nationalism is that while classical works on nationalism have focused on the role of local print capitalism in the formation of imagined national communities (Anderson [1983]1991), Marashi shows that it was rather a transnational print philanthropy that enabled the circulation of texts between Bombay and the Zoroastrian communities in Iran and contributed to the formation of modern Iranian national identity.

Chapter 3
, “Imagining Hafez – Rabindranath Tagore in Iran”, examines Tagore’s month-long visit to Iran in 1932 that ultimately served to bolster the moral and intellectual authority of Indo-Iranian civilization in the Iranian nation-state as it was being institutionalized under Reza Shah Pahlavi. A closer study of this event, however, shows that its organization and execution involved numerous actors, each with their own agendas. For the Indian poet, artist, and cultural activist Tagore, Iran was an important site for his pan-Asian anti-colonial project of cultural revival as it represented a greater Indo-Iranian civilization with its own unique moral and aesthetic spirit that was counterposed to that of ‘the West’ with its Greco-Roman roots. Much like Dinshah Irani, Tagore’s vision of Indo-Iranian classical heritage, valued not only in the culture and civilizational achievements of pre-Islamic (Zoroastrian) Iran but also mystical Islam and the poetic legacy of Sa‘di and Hafez that had long linked Central and South Asia via religious, literary and artistic contacts sustained not only through the flow of texts but also through migration and travel. For Tagore’s Iranian hosts, not least the Pahlavi regime, their honored guest represented the embodiment of a lost Iranian cultural authenticity defined by deep Indo-Aryan roots. Hence, the visit was seen as a symbolic return and cultural assertion of a (non-Muslim) cultural authenticity. So, while for Tagore the poetry of Sa‘di and Hafez were part of Indo-Iranian civilization by virtue of a shared spiritual essence that had its roots in earliest times of the pre-Islamic period that connected Zoroastrianism and Islam by a shared civilizational essence, for Reza Shah and other members of the emergent nationalist project in Iran this poetic legacy was a symbol of how Indo-Iranian Aryan civilization had resisted Islamic cultural hegemony. The chapter closes with a discussion of the voices critical of Tagore’s visit (of which there were rather few). The Muslim-Indian poet Muhammad Iqbal, the Parsi scholar G.K. Nariman, and the Iranian-Tajiki Persian poet and socialist activist Abolqasem Lahuti expressed their concerns about how Tagore’s visit and his vision of an inclusive liberal Indo-Iranian civilization played into political projects that united Hindu nationalists, Parsis, and Iranian nationalists in a shared anti-Muslim project while also tacitly giving support to the oppressive authoritarianism of the Pahlavi state. These critiques again highlight how contemporaries were quite aware of how formulations of Iranian national identity that drew on a “classical” Zoroastrian heritage were also feeding authoritarianism and exclusionism.

The life and work of Ebrahim Purdavud is the focus of chapter 4 “Ebrahim Purdavud and His Interlocutors – Parsi Patronage and the Making of the Vernacular Avesta”. As Marashi argues, Purdavud, himself from a pious Shi’ite family in Northwestern Iran and not a member of the Zoroastrian community, made the most significant contribution to Parsi-Iranian exchanges. The chapter traces Ebrahim Purdavud’s physical travels and intellectual development from poet and activist to independent scholar of pre-Islamic Iran whose commented translations of key Zoroastrian texts into lyrical modern Persian were seminal to linking Persian identity with a pre-Islamic “classical golden era” among a broader (non-Zoroastrian readership), making it available as the foundation of modern Persian nationalist thought. In so doing, the chapter highlights the importance of the complex networks of exchange between Iranian expatriates living in Europe or other parts of the Middle East, European Orientalists, and the German Foreign Ministry, each in pursuit of their own multiple political projects and interests, in the formulation and propagation of Iranian nationalist thought. It also discusses the continued role again played by Bombay Parsi individuals and philanthropic institutions not only in facilitating and financing the production of works, like those of Purdavud, that would become key to the formulation of modern nationalist Persian identity, but also in shaping the knowledge on which these works were based by acting as cultural mediators, gatekeepers, and experts. As Marashi argues, it is ultimately the multiple agendas at play that overdetermine the project of excavating an Indo-Iranian classical heritage. The cosmopolitan and inclusive interpretations of this heritage, such as those paradigmatically propagated by members of the Bombay Parsi and Iranian Zoroastrian communities, existed alongside exclusivist interpretations shaped by projects to salvage an Aryan authenticity by breaking with Central and South Asia’s Arab-Turkic-Islamicate past, as would become the case with Reza Shah’s cultural policy and was implicitly the case in Purdavud’s scholarly engagement. As Marashi notes, “… the Zoroastrian revival was always more about distinguishing the real and authentic Iranian culture from the layers of inauthentic cultural accretions that Iran’s national heritage had acquired over the long duration of its history” (185). The non-classical elements of this history, most notably the Arab, Turkic and Muslim ones, came to be decried as foreign impositions from which the nation must liberate itself. However, during the interwar period, the tension between Iranian Zoroastrian and Bombay Parsi inclusionary interpretations of Iran’s pre-Islamic heritage and the tendentially more exclusionary understandings of Iranian nationalists like Purdavud remained implicit and did not lead to conflict. However, with the shifting political climate in the context of the rise on Nazi ideology and the approach of the Second World War this would change.

The effects of this shift in political climate are taken up in chapter 5 “Sword of Freedom – Abdulrahman Saif Azad and the Interwar Iranian Nationalism”. By tracing the biographical trajectory of Abdulrahman Saif Azad tensions between the contrasting interpretations of Zoroastrianism and Iran’s classical heritage become explicit, leading to a break with the Bombay Parsi community. The chapter recounts the activities of Abdulrahman Saif Azad, an anti-colonial activist and by the 1930s also a Nazi sympathizer. Saif Azad sought out Parsi financial support to publish Iran-e Bastan (“Ancient Iran”) a Tehran newspaper that appeared between 1933 and 1935. Initially promoting liberal and cosmopolitan interpretations of Iran’s Zoroastrian and Persianate heritage, in line with the agenda of his Parsi benefactors, Saif Azad began to change the newspaper’s focus and ideological orientation as he became increasingly supportive of the Nazi cause and found new supporters in the Nazi government’s propaganda bureau. As a result, the Parsis withdrew their support of Saif Azad’s enterprise, and the newspaper ceased publication by 1935. Saif Azad, however, continued his anti-imperial, anti-British, pro-Nazi politics by starting a new English-Persian paper, Salar-e Hend, that put the focus on topics of economic and social autonomy and portrayed local Indian Rajas as worthy leaders of an (independent) India, including Nazi symbols and references along the way. Marashi’s account of Saif Azad’s political trajectory illustrates the conflicts in interwar Iranian nationalist politics that were shaped by transnationally circulating conceptions of Iranian nationalism, and the cultural heritage in which it was ostensibly rooted, as well as by the larger political contexts in which anti-imperialism, post-colonial nationalism, and Nazi fascism intermingled.

Marashi’s Take-Away Lessons from the Indo-Iranian Exchange

The book’s conclusion is brief and returns to the point that in the formative decades of Iranian nationalism from the early 20th century until the end of World War II numerous ideological strands existed side by side: liberal pluralistic and democratic versions as well as exclusionary ones that advocated policies of cultural authenticity and purification and aligned themselves with fascist movements. These strands provided the conditions of possibility for subsequent developments in Iranian nationalism, most notably the conservative politics of official Pahlavi nationalism of the late 1960s. Further, Marashi returns to the importance of giving greater attention to South-South exchanges, like the ones between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians and nationalists portrayed in this account that have been integral to the formation and development of nationalist movements outside of Europe. Such exchanges highlight the lasting legacies of historical entanglements, such as those of the Persianate world, without which the culture of Neo-Zoroastrianism or conceptions of an (Indo-)Iranian classical heritage would not have been possible.

Less convincing is his final assessment that conceptions of Iranian neoclassicism have greater relevance to Iranians in the diaspora than in Iran proper. This overlooks developments in the past few decades during which Iranians have been critically reassessing the state of their nation, and in so doing have once again looked to their pre-Islamic heritage for inspiration and orientation (Abdolmohamadi 2015, Fozi 2016).
Marashi’s account thus also shows itself to be relevant for contextualizing contemporary developments in cultural and political discourse in Iran itself, and not just in its diaspora communities, which like the actors in this book are linked by manifold exchanges and flows.

So, Was It Worth the Read?

Definitely. The account is extremely complex, linking the Parsi community in Bombay with Iranian nationalists in Iran, and with Iranian and Parsi expatriates in France, Germany, Turkey, Lebanon, Iraq and the United States. The perspective in this study is truly transnational, and its approach offers methodological as well as substantive inspiration for future studies. For example, a number of personalities make cameo appearances in this account and would warrant further attention, not least someone like Madam Bhikaiji Rustom Cama, a leading anti-colonial activist residing in London and Paris whose activities not only highlight the interconnections between anti-colonial and nationalist movements in the global South, but also the role of women in these networks. Also important is the explicit attention to South-South exchanges in the shaping of nationalisms, and on the role of philanthropic networks in that process that in this case overshadow the capitalist interconnections (that are, however, not discussed). In this sense the monograph is valuable reading for all scholars of nationalism. That said, the complexity of the narrative means that the author cannot explicate regionally specific background information for those without previous knowledge of Iran or the Persianate world. Hence, some of the nuances of the account are lost on non-specialist readers, particularly the references to elements of the early modern Persianate legacy, which are referred to but not presented in detail. One can also find oneself a bit lost with regard to dating developments in the account, as the narrative is structured around five key actors and does not follow a strictly linear timeline. However, because Marashi focusses on biography and interpersonal networks, a non-specialist reader interested in cultural revivalism, nationalism, anti-colonialism, and transnational approaches to historiography will still find the account an intellectually provocative and engaging read.

Bibliography:
Anderson, Benedict ([1983]1991): Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Abdolmohamadi, Pejman (2015): The Revival of Nationalism and Secularism in Modern Iran. LSE Middle East Centre Papers, 11.
Fozi, Navid (2016): “Neo-Iranian Nationalism: Pre-Islamic Grandeur and Shi’i Eschatology in President Mahmud Ahmadinejad’s Rhetoric”, Middle East Journal, 70(2): 227-248.
Kia, Mana and Afshin Marashi (2016): “Introduction: After the Persianate”, Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East, 36(3), 379-383

Citation: Katja Rieck, Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 04.02.2021, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/26466.


Quite fascinating, and ties in well with what I have been educating various successive generations of PDF readers here (Indian, Pakistani and Iranian) over the past 10 years in my various allowed and tolerated avatars.

@waz @WebMaster @SQ8 @AgNoStiC MuSliM @masterchief_mirza @fitpOsitive @peagle @Baibars_1260 @El Sidd @Cookie Monster @Indus Pakistan @OldenWisdom...قول بزرگ
@third eye @Sam. @Bagheera @Chhatrapati @Sharma Ji @Juggernaut_Flat_Plane_V8 @T90TankGuy @Joe Shearer @IMARV @
@Cthulhu @Arian @Dariush the Great @aryobarzan @Xerxes22 @Bahram Esfandiari

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc

@DESERT FIGHTER @LittleFish @TNT @mangekyo @Arulmozhi Varman @hussain0216 @HalfMoon @Mirzah @TheGreatMaratha @Shawnee @SalarHaqq @Samlee @Salmanov (sorry missed you buddy) @Cliftonite @SuvarnaTeja @Markandeya @Bambi @Surenas

A good read. How a small but very influential micro community fosters nationalism and revivalism of its ancient heritage in the modern world and new nation state on its ancestral soil after centuries of separation.

Cheers, Doc
 
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Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran
BY EDITORIAL BOARD · PUBLISHED 4. FEBRUARY 2021 · UPDATED 4. FEBRUARY 2021

By Katja Rieck
Rethinking (Iranian) Nationalism from a Transnational and South-South Perspective

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Afshin Marashi, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran.


In his most recent monograph, Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran (2020), Afshin Marashi provides a new perspective on Iranian nationalism. Dissatisfied with approaches that “have tended to focus more on the role of the cultural and intellectual encounter with European thought in shaping debates within Persian-language modernist texts of the 19th and 20th centuries” that “draw on diffusionist models of modernity based on the assumption that modernization is intimately linked to westernization and rooted in the dissemination of ideas from a European place of origin outward to the various colonial and semi-colonial regions of Asia and Africa” (12-13). It is a critique Marashi insists is applicable to both classical scholarly accounts of nationalism as well as to post-colonial paradigms. This study focusses attention on the role of non-Western intellectuals and South-South exchanges in the shaping of Iranian modernity and nationalism. Central to this process, Marashi insists, is the continuing legacy of the “Persianate zone” or “Persianate cosmopolis” that historically linked cultures and societies from Belgrad to Bengal from roughly the late 7th century. Taking inspiration from scholars like Kathryn Bayaban, Mana Kia, Daniel Sheffield, and Mohamad Tavakoli-Targhi, as well as Nile Green and Monica Ringer, he seeks to move beyond historiographical approaches limited by disciplinary divides of periodization (early modern vs. modern) and regional specialization (Middle East vs. South Asia).

At the center of his account lies the cultural and intellectual engagement between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians, particularly at the close of the 19th century up until World War II. This engagement, as Marashi insists, drew on pre-existing, early modern strands of the Persianate historical legacy from the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. However, the shifting contexts of their respective political situations in the 19th and early 20th centuries “produced different historical outcomes for strands of culture emerging from the Persianate cultural landscape” (16). Hence a recurring theme throughout the book’s five chapters is the implicit and explicit tensions between differing understandings of Zoroastrianism and a shared classical Persianate heritage. Hence, Bombay Parsis looked on their religious and cultural heritage from the perspective of a favored minority community under multicultural colonial rule and so tended to articulate liberal, cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of Zoroastrianism and Indo-Iranian classical heritage. Zoroastrian and non-Zoroastrian Iranian intellectuals, on the other hand, looked to this classical heritage and Zoroastrianism as “a cultural blueprint to serve as the basis for a radical project of compensatory transformation characteristic of defensive nation-building projects” (16). The resulting interpretations were culturally assertive and exclusionary (particularly towards Iran’s Arab-Islamicate heritage). By looking at the contrasting trajectories that resulted from Iranian-Parsi exchanges, Marashi aims to explore how to conceptualize networks of connection that were made possible in the Indian Ocean world due to steam and print technologies. While it is generally assumed that the resulting increased density and intensity of exchange networks would create an ethos of cosmopolitanism, the story of Parsi-Iranian exchange shows the picture to be far more complicated: “A close reading of the Parsi-Iranian exchange will therefore detail a fuller range of cultural, emotional, and philosophical complexities emerging from one such encounter in the Indian Ocean ecumene, as well as the concomitant cultural and political outcomes that those encounters produced” (19).

Combining a Focus on Biographies and Actor Networks with Analysis of Seminal Texts

Marashi’s study analyses developments in emergent Iranian nationalism by examining the intellectual biographies and networks of key actors in the Zoroastrian revival and Iranian nationalism and the discursive structures of their most influential works. Chapter 1, entitled “To Bombay and Back – Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrok and the Reinvention of Iranian Zoroastrianism”, focuses on the contradiction between liberal Parsi and Iranian nationalist readings of Iran’s Zoroastrian heritage as played out in a family drama between Kaykhosow Sharokh, the liberal Zoroastrian reformer, longtime Majles Deputy, and Persian cultural activist and his son Shah-Bahram Shahrokh. The chapter details Kaykhosow Shahrokh’s political activities, not least his seminal role in anchoring a definition of Iranian citizenship that institutionalized the legal equality of non-Muslim minorities as “Iranian subjects” in the emergent Iranian nation-state as well as his efforts towards promoting Zoroastrian life in Teheran. His lasting influence, however, can also be attributed to two important works he penned following a stay among the Parsi community in Bombay, the A’ineh-ya A’in-e Mazdayasna (1907) and the Fourugh-e Mazdayasna (1909). In these works, he formulated the doctrines of a modernist and reformed interpretation of Zoroastrianism for schoolchildren and lay Zoroastrian readers, but also for an audience of non-Zoroastrian Iranian readers exploring Iran’s (pre-Islamic) cultural, religious, and political heritage. While both texts play a seminal role in “authenticating modernity” in a Zoroastrian/Persian context (39), Marashi also shows how Shahrokh’s openness to re-evaluating Zoroastrian thought in light of contemporary intellectual developments did not preclude problematic tendencies to integrate ideas concerning language, race (particularly Aryan race theory), cultural purity, and exclusionary understandings of the nation that were in tension with his liberal, democratic, and politically pluralist politics. This discursive ambivalence, Marashi argues, is reflective of the same conditions of possibility that fostered some Iranians’ sympathies to Nazi ideology and the Nazi regime in Germany, reflected in the activities of Shahrokh’s own son Bahram, who became head of Nazi-Germany’s Persian-language programming on Radio Berlin. This tension between cosmopolitan and ecumenical readings of a progressive Zoroastrianism and exclusionary assertions of the authenticity and cultural/racial purity as foundations of Iranian national heritage is a theme that is revisited in all chapters that follow.

Chapter 2
, “Patron and Patriot – Dinsha J. Irani, Parsi Philanthropy, and the Revival of Indo-Iranian Culture”, turns to the life and work of Dinshah Irani, a civic leader among Bombay Zoroastrians and co-founder of the Iran League and the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman as well as a prolific author of books on Zoroastrianism intended for export to Iran. It highlights the important role the Bombay Parsi community played in the rediscovery of Iran’s pre-Islamic/Zoroastrian cultural heritage that would come to shape the refashioning of an Iranian national culture commensurate with the demands of modernity. As Bombay Parsis became increasingly concerned and engaged with their ancestral place of origin to bolster their revivalist efforts to bring Zoroastrianism in line with the demands of modern life, they became aware that their brethren in Iran were not so well situated. This sparked a flow of philanthropic interventions from South Asia back to Iran, targeted at their Zoroastrian brethren but available to all, that also included opportunities for educational and economic advancement. Book publishing was part of this project of upliftment, to which Dinshah Irani also actively contributed as an author. His works aimed not only to educate Zoroastrian youth and lay readers on modernist understandings of the Zoroastrian religion (as formulated by the Parsi community in South Asia), but also served to promote the Zoroastrian historical and cultural heritage vis-à-vis non-Zoroastrian Iranians. Ultimately, Irani, and other members of the South Asian Zoroastrian revival, sought to foster a dialog between Zoroastrians and Muslim Iranian society to bring Zoroastrianism more fully into the center of emerging notions of Iranian national identity, thereby uplifting the place of Zoroastrian brethren in Iranian society. Aryan race theory, again, provided a means of generating a shared (racial) genealogy that linked ancient and modern Zoroastrians to contemporary (Muslim) Iranians by casting them as their ancestral predecessors. The language of Iranian gnostic Sufism (‘erfān) had already in Safavid Iran and Mughal South Asia intermingled with Zoroastrianism and so provided Irani and other Zoroastrian activists an additional discursive tradition on which to draw to communicate the message of Zoroastrianism in an ecumenical context and to reconcile Iran’s Zoroastrian with its Islamic heritage. Irani’s texts thus show how a place was carved out for Zoroastrianism to become part of a liberal, pluralistic Iranian national identity. Noteworthy with regard to the role of circulating texts and emergent conceptions of Iranian nationalism is that while classical works on nationalism have focused on the role of local print capitalism in the formation of imagined national communities (Anderson [1983]1991), Marashi shows that it was rather a transnational print philanthropy that enabled the circulation of texts between Bombay and the Zoroastrian communities in Iran and contributed to the formation of modern Iranian national identity.

Chapter 3
, “Imagining Hafez – Rabindranath Tagore in Iran”, examines Tagore’s month-long visit to Iran in 1932 that ultimately served to bolster the moral and intellectual authority of Indo-Iranian civilization in the Iranian nation-state as it was being institutionalized under Reza Shah Pahlavi. A closer study of this event, however, shows that its organization and execution involved numerous actors, each with their own agendas. For the Indian poet, artist, and cultural activist Tagore, Iran was an important site for his pan-Asian anti-colonial project of cultural revival as it represented a greater Indo-Iranian civilization with its own unique moral and aesthetic spirit that was counterposed to that of ‘the West’ with its Greco-Roman roots. Much like Dinshah Irani, Tagore’s vision of Indo-Iranian classical heritage, valued not only in the culture and civilizational achievements of pre-Islamic (Zoroastrian) Iran but also mystical Islam and the poetic legacy of Sa‘di and Hafez that had long linked Central and South Asia via religious, literary and artistic contacts sustained not only through the flow of texts but also through migration and travel. For Tagore’s Iranian hosts, not least the Pahlavi regime, their honored guest represented the embodiment of a lost Iranian cultural authenticity defined by deep Indo-Aryan roots. Hence, the visit was seen as a symbolic return and cultural assertion of a (non-Muslim) cultural authenticity. So, while for Tagore the poetry of Sa‘di and Hafez were part of Indo-Iranian civilization by virtue of a shared spiritual essence that had its roots in earliest times of the pre-Islamic period that connected Zoroastrianism and Islam by a shared civilizational essence, for Reza Shah and other members of the emergent nationalist project in Iran this poetic legacy was a symbol of how Indo-Iranian Aryan civilization had resisted Islamic cultural hegemony. The chapter closes with a discussion of the voices critical of Tagore’s visit (of which there were rather few). The Muslim-Indian poet Muhammad Iqbal, the Parsi scholar G.K. Nariman, and the Iranian-Tajiki Persian poet and socialist activist Abolqasem Lahuti expressed their concerns about how Tagore’s visit and his vision of an inclusive liberal Indo-Iranian civilization played into political projects that united Hindu nationalists, Parsis, and Iranian nationalists in a shared anti-Muslim project while also tacitly giving support to the oppressive authoritarianism of the Pahlavi state. These critiques again highlight how contemporaries were quite aware of how formulations of Iranian national identity that drew on a “classical” Zoroastrian heritage were also feeding authoritarianism and exclusionism.

The life and work of Ebrahim Purdavud is the focus of chapter 4 “Ebrahim Purdavud and His Interlocutors – Parsi Patronage and the Making of the Vernacular Avesta”. As Marashi argues, Purdavud, himself from a pious Shi’ite family in Northwestern Iran and not a member of the Zoroastrian community, made the most significant contribution to Parsi-Iranian exchanges. The chapter traces Ebrahim Purdavud’s physical travels and intellectual development from poet and activist to independent scholar of pre-Islamic Iran whose commented translations of key Zoroastrian texts into lyrical modern Persian were seminal to linking Persian identity with a pre-Islamic “classical golden era” among a broader (non-Zoroastrian readership), making it available as the foundation of modern Persian nationalist thought. In so doing, the chapter highlights the importance of the complex networks of exchange between Iranian expatriates living in Europe or other parts of the Middle East, European Orientalists, and the German Foreign Ministry, each in pursuit of their own multiple political projects and interests, in the formulation and propagation of Iranian nationalist thought. It also discusses the continued role again played by Bombay Parsi individuals and philanthropic institutions not only in facilitating and financing the production of works, like those of Purdavud, that would become key to the formulation of modern nationalist Persian identity, but also in shaping the knowledge on which these works were based by acting as cultural mediators, gatekeepers, and experts. As Marashi argues, it is ultimately the multiple agendas at play that overdetermine the project of excavating an Indo-Iranian classical heritage. The cosmopolitan and inclusive interpretations of this heritage, such as those paradigmatically propagated by members of the Bombay Parsi and Iranian Zoroastrian communities, existed alongside exclusivist interpretations shaped by projects to salvage an Aryan authenticity by breaking with Central and South Asia’s Arab-Turkic-Islamicate past, as would become the case with Reza Shah’s cultural policy and was implicitly the case in Purdavud’s scholarly engagement. As Marashi notes, “… the Zoroastrian revival was always more about distinguishing the real and authentic Iranian culture from the layers of inauthentic cultural accretions that Iran’s national heritage had acquired over the long duration of its history” (185). The non-classical elements of this history, most notably the Arab, Turkic and Muslim ones, came to be decried as foreign impositions from which the nation must liberate itself. However, during the interwar period, the tension between Iranian Zoroastrian and Bombay Parsi inclusionary interpretations of Iran’s pre-Islamic heritage and the tendentially more exclusionary understandings of Iranian nationalists like Purdavud remained implicit and did not lead to conflict. However, with the shifting political climate in the context of the rise on Nazi ideology and the approach of the Second World War this would change.

The effects of this shift in political climate are taken up in chapter 5 “Sword of Freedom – Abdulrahman Saif Azad and the Interwar Iranian Nationalism”. By tracing the biographical trajectory of Abdulrahman Saif Azad tensions between the contrasting interpretations of Zoroastrianism and Iran’s classical heritage become explicit, leading to a break with the Bombay Parsi community. The chapter recounts the activities of Abdulrahman Saif Azad, an anti-colonial activist and by the 1930s also a Nazi sympathizer. Saif Azad sought out Parsi financial support to publish Iran-e Bastan (“Ancient Iran”) a Tehran newspaper that appeared between 1933 and 1935. Initially promoting liberal and cosmopolitan interpretations of Iran’s Zoroastrian and Persianate heritage, in line with the agenda of his Parsi benefactors, Saif Azad began to change the newspaper’s focus and ideological orientation as he became increasingly supportive of the Nazi cause and found new supporters in the Nazi government’s propaganda bureau. As a result, the Parsis withdrew their support of Saif Azad’s enterprise, and the newspaper ceased publication by 1935. Saif Azad, however, continued his anti-imperial, anti-British, pro-Nazi politics by starting a new English-Persian paper, Salar-e Hend, that put the focus on topics of economic and social autonomy and portrayed local Indian Rajas as worthy leaders of an (independent) India, including Nazi symbols and references along the way. Marashi’s account of Saif Azad’s political trajectory illustrates the conflicts in interwar Iranian nationalist politics that were shaped by transnationally circulating conceptions of Iranian nationalism, and the cultural heritage in which it was ostensibly rooted, as well as by the larger political contexts in which anti-imperialism, post-colonial nationalism, and Nazi fascism intermingled.

Marashi’s Take-Away Lessons from the Indo-Iranian Exchange

The book’s conclusion is brief and returns to the point that in the formative decades of Iranian nationalism from the early 20th century until the end of World War II numerous ideological strands existed side by side: liberal pluralistic and democratic versions as well as exclusionary ones that advocated policies of cultural authenticity and purification and aligned themselves with fascist movements. These strands provided the conditions of possibility for subsequent developments in Iranian nationalism, most notably the conservative politics of official Pahlavi nationalism of the late 1960s. Further, Marashi returns to the importance of giving greater attention to South-South exchanges, like the ones between Bombay Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians and nationalists portrayed in this account that have been integral to the formation and development of nationalist movements outside of Europe. Such exchanges highlight the lasting legacies of historical entanglements, such as those of the Persianate world, without which the culture of Neo-Zoroastrianism or conceptions of an (Indo-)Iranian classical heritage would not have been possible.

Less convincing is his final assessment that conceptions of Iranian neoclassicism have greater relevance to Iranians in the diaspora than in Iran proper. This overlooks developments in the past few decades during which Iranians have been critically reassessing the state of their nation, and in so doing have once again looked to their pre-Islamic heritage for inspiration and orientation (Abdolmohamadi 2015, Fozi 2016).
Marashi’s account thus also shows itself to be relevant for contextualizing contemporary developments in cultural and political discourse in Iran itself, and not just in its diaspora communities, which like the actors in this book are linked by manifold exchanges and flows.

So, Was It Worth the Read?

Definitely. The account is extremely complex, linking the Parsi community in Bombay with Iranian nationalists in Iran, and with Iranian and Parsi expatriates in France, Germany, Turkey, Lebanon, Iraq and the United States. The perspective in this study is truly transnational, and its approach offers methodological as well as substantive inspiration for future studies. For example, a number of personalities make cameo appearances in this account and would warrant further attention, not least someone like Madam Bhikaiji Rustom Cama, a leading anti-colonial activist residing in London and Paris whose activities not only highlight the interconnections between anti-colonial and nationalist movements in the global South, but also the role of women in these networks. Also important is the explicit attention to South-South exchanges in the shaping of nationalisms, and on the role of philanthropic networks in that process that in this case overshadow the capitalist interconnections (that are, however, not discussed). In this sense the monograph is valuable reading for all scholars of nationalism. That said, the complexity of the narrative means that the author cannot explicate regionally specific background information for those without previous knowledge of Iran or the Persianate world. Hence, some of the nuances of the account are lost on non-specialist readers, particularly the references to elements of the early modern Persianate legacy, which are referred to but not presented in detail. One can also find oneself a bit lost with regard to dating developments in the account, as the narrative is structured around five key actors and does not follow a strictly linear timeline. However, because Marashi focusses on biography and interpersonal networks, a non-specialist reader interested in cultural revivalism, nationalism, anti-colonialism, and transnational approaches to historiography will still find the account an intellectually provocative and engaging read.

Bibliography:
Anderson, Benedict ([1983]1991): Imagined Communities. Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso.
Abdolmohamadi, Pejman (2015): The Revival of Nationalism and Secularism in Modern Iran. LSE Middle East Centre Papers, 11.
Fozi, Navid (2016): “Neo-Iranian Nationalism: Pre-Islamic Grandeur and Shi’i Eschatology in President Mahmud Ahmadinejad’s Rhetoric”, Middle East Journal, 70(2): 227-248.
Kia, Mana and Afshin Marashi (2016): “Introduction: After the Persianate”, Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East, 36(3), 379-383

Citation: Katja Rieck, Book Review: Exile and the Nation – The Parsi Community of India and the Making of Modern Iran, in: TRAFO – Blog for Transregional Research, 04.02.2021, https://trafo.hypotheses.org/26466.


Quite fascinating, and ties in well with what I have been educating various successive generations of PDF readers here (Indian, Pakistani and Iranian) over the past 10 years in my various allowed and tolerated avatars.

@waz @WebMaster @SQ8 @AgNoStiC MuSliM @masterchief_mirza @fitpOsitive @peagle @Baibars_1260 @El Sidd @Cookie Monster @Indus Pakistan @OldenWisdom...قول بزرگ
@third eye @Sam. @Bagheera @Chhatrapati @Sharma Ji @Juggernaut_Flat_Plane_V8 @T90TankGuy @Joe Shearer @IMARV @
@Cthulhu @Arian @Dariush the Great @aryobarzan @Xerxes22 @Bahram Esfandiari

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc

Quite interesting, I must admit, my knowledge on the topic is non-existant, so I am sure better persons than I will contribute, thanks for sharing, always a pleasure to leant new perspectives.
 
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Quite interesting, I must admit, my knowledge on the topic is non-existant, so I am sure better persons than I will contribute, thanks for sharing, always a pleasure to leant new perspectives.

Its natural. Most Parsis and Iranis know very little themselves.

There is only one other such example in the history of mankind of people separated by centuries and cultures (and language) and geographies coming back together and re-forming ancestral bonds, and that is the Jews and the Jewish state.

We are seeing the same now over the past century with the Zoroastrians.

The Parsis. The Iranis. Their diaspora in the West. And the other Iranic peoples increasingly reverting to their ancestral faith. The Kurds. The Azeris. The Tajiks. The Yazidis.

Somewhere down the line we WILL achieve critical mass ....

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc
 
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Its natural. Most Parsis and Iranis know very little themselves.

There is only one other such example in the history of mankind of people separated by centuries and cultures (and language) and geographies coming back together and re-forming ancestral bonds, and that is the Jews and the Jewish state.

We are seeing the same now over the past century with the Zoroastrians.

The Parsis. The Iranis. Their diaspora in the West. And the other Iranic peoples increasingly reverting to their ancestral faith. The Kurds. The Azeris. The Tajiks. The Yazidis.

Somewhere down the line we WILL achieve critical mass ....

Ushta te.

Cheers, Doc

From what I see, you have a tough task at hand. recently Iran supported Armenia against their Azeri brothers and sisters unless I am confusing some groups.

But, from my point of view, any move that is meant for peace surely cannot be wrong, therefore always welcome. Zoroastrianism has always fascinated me, but for some reason, I never got around to learning about it. On the face of it, they, and I assume you are very interesting people. History has not been kind, but then it never is.
Just from the cursory knowledge on the topic, I love the fortitude among your people, I can't help but be impressed by it.
A great man once said, live long and prosper.
 
.
From what I see, you have a tough task at hand. recently Iran supported Armenia against their Azeri brothers and sisters unless I am confusing some groups.

But, from my point of view, any move that is meant for peace surely cannot be wrong, therefore always welcome. Zoroastrianism has always fascinated me, but for some reason, I never got around to learning about it. On the face of it, they, and I assume you are very interesting people. History has not been kind, but then it never is.
Just from the cursory knowledge on the topic, I love the fortitude among your people, I can't help but be impressed by it.
A great man once said, live long and prosper.

Yes the Iranians are a confused lot. They never lifted a finger to prevent the massacre of the Yazidis. And play games with Turkey against the Kurds. And above all, lent support in war to the enemy of the same land that sheltered their sons for a thousand years.

Many generations of Parsis have hoped and prayed. And then died.

Yet the Iranians are still there. The Behdin.

And so are the Parsis. The Atharvan. The Mobeds (Magi).

And the Atash still burns bright. Unbroken for the last 8000 years.

Cheers, Doc
 
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