Category: Iran

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Iran photo politics religion

The Hejab, or On Equality

There’s even a street named after it.

Iranian law enforces the hejab, or the Islamic dress code, on all women age 9 and over (corresponding to the age at which girls could be married in Iran immediately after the Islamic Revolution, although that age has since been changed). Iranian women do not wear the burqa, like women in parts of the Arab world and Afghanistan, but the rule seems to be that absolutely everything be covered except the face and hands. (This rule even applies to, with ridiculous effect, Iranian movies, in which female characters are covered even in domestic scenes in which in real life a woman would not be covered.) The hejab is often satisfied by wearing a chador, a very large piece of black cloth that is draped over one’s head and held in place with one’s teeth or hands to cover nearly the entire body but the face. Alternatively, and preferred by many women, is a coat (called a manteau and sometimes fitted), along with a headscarf. Young women in big cities flout the rules a bit by wearing shorter manteaus and wearing their headscarf rather “high” on the head, exposing a good portion of their hair. Some non-Muslim women tend to dress even a little more casually, perhaps exposing a little neck or ankle. [See my post of 6.4 for photos.] But the hejab is the law. If you break the law once, we are told that the police will just take you to the police station and call your family. But if you kept breaking the law, you would be fined and eventually end up in prison. The Ahmedinejad administration has ordered police crackdowns on the hejab, especially in the summers when the temperature climbs and it becomes tempting to relax one’s clothing. As once reported in the press, “Police will seize women with tight coats and cropped trousers.”

Bathroom sign

For some of you it may be tempting to view the hejab as something cultural, rules that we as non-Muslims may not be comfortable with but may well be desired by Iranians for the ordering of their society. I personally am certainly comfortable with traditional dress (cf. post of 4.16), and recognize that different cultures do find different clothes more or less acceptable or objectionable. But through our travels in Iran we have come to feel more strongly than ever that dress is an important form of personal expression, and that the legally enforced hejab is an unreasonable infringement of women’s liberties. (This may sound a bit American–and indeed I also find objectionable (although not in the same way) rules in France and Turkey that prohibit the wearing of headscarves.)

Often, in conversations with Iranian women, the hejab comes up. When we asked them what they think about having to wear the headscarf, we generally heard a curt “I hate it.” Young ladies that Derek tries to photograph will spontaneously point at their headscarves, saying that it’s ugly and that they would much prefer to be photographed without it (although of course that is not an option). Even women who said that they themselves would wear it even if it were not legally required, because it is dictated by their faith and tradition, told us that they did not think it should be the law, and that women should be free to choose. I do not know if there have been any reliable polls, but one fairly liberal, but older man thought that perhaps half of Iranian women would wear and half not wear the hejab if the law were lifted. (We were told by one older woman that, in Tehran before the Islamic Revolution, almost nobody wore headscarves, but the legal requirement in the last thirty years has restored the hejab to the level of social mores as well–even we started joking that women with high scarves must be of questionable morals, akin to a very short miniskirt–and if the law were revoked more women would probably wear headscarves than in pre-revolutionary days.) But just as women will object to the hejab, they will also point out that it’s just the tip of the iceberg, a meaningless symbol compared to the other social and legal handicaps women suffer in the Islamic Republic. Upon reflection, however, I have come to the belief that the hejab explains much about what is wrong with gender relations in Iran.

The first problem with the hejab is simple inequality. Although I believe that as a technical matter the hejab imposes restrictions on men as well (and at times men have been harassed by police for having “improper” hairstyles or whatever), from our experience the law doesn’t stop men from doing much of anything in the way of dress. Men wear short sleeves all the time, have all sorts of hairstyles from long to spiky, feel free to leave three or four buttons undone exposing a usually hairy chest and wear sandals exposing their feet. We’ve even been told that it’s okay to wear shorts, although we have not seen anyone doing this.

Exercising. The man looks a bit more comfortable, don’t you think?

Because the hejab is required for women when they may be in the presence of unrelated men, it creates for women a constant awareness of, a burden to check for, the possible presence of men. If dress is slightly relaxed, because they are alone or in a private place, they must rush to fix it if a man (especially an official) appears on the scene. It creates for women two spheres–the private, in which they are free to wear whatever they’d like, and the public, a space controlled by men in which they must modify their appearance. It is, simply put, a symbol of patriarchy.

No hejab, no service.

Another, deeper problem with the hejab revealed itself when we asked why it was necessary. What we were told repeatedly by men was that women need to conceal themselves in order to reduce temptation for and sexual violence by men. This is, of course, the exact mentality that allows rapists to defend themselves by pointing to the victim’s dress. This attitude is not only damaging to women, because it assigns female culpability to the male problem of sexual violence, but, I believe, also to men, who are seen in this view as totally lacking self-control. Indeed, some anecdotal evidence would suggest that this worldview generates male misbehavior–one young tourist we met in Tehran said that she received 10-20 unwanted and persistent advances by men each day, and another foreign woman temporarily living in Iran confirmed that Iranian men seem to have no sense of shame or fear of rejection. The Lonely Planet describes the Tehran subway as a “frotteur’s heaven.” Iranian men in the U.S. certainly don’t behave this way–it must be the culture of giving men a free pass and blaming women that causes it.

A few words on what tourists should do in Iran. One man we spoke to laughed bitterly when mentioning his conversations with female tourists from Europe who answered, when they were asked what they thought of Iran, simply that they liked Iran and that Iran was great. “What if they had to live here?” he asked, “What if there was an Islamic Republic of France? Let’s see what they’d say then.” After hearing this, we felt it our responsibility to be truthful, and not gloss over our true feelings on important questions simply because it is easier to avoid political issues.

Also, we have seen some Iranian domestic tourists from the larger cities avoid wearing their hejab when possible. For example, in a hotel lobby, two young ladies were sitting across from Derek without their scarves on, next to their scarf-wearing mother, and only rushed to put them back on, while expressing annoyance and rolling their eyes as they did it, when an Iranian man entered the room. On a daytrip to the countryside, some Iranian women in our group courageously took off their scarves, since they were in the presence of only western tourists and the tour op
erators. Sadly, on that tour, most of the western tourists kept their scarves on, no doubt not only because they were afraid of getting into trouble (we were told once that foreigners are levied a $3 fine), but because they thought that respecting local law was the “right thing to do.” But does this kind of law deserve respect? Or should the foreigners show solidarity with courageous Iranian women?

It may be the law, but does it deserve respect?

One story: We were showing New York postcards (which we carry for such show and tell) to three older women in a city park. They asked for a card, and we selected the one of Radio City Music Hall. Women are not allowed to sing or dance in public in Iran because the solo female voice and female dance are considered too seductive, causing many female musicians to move to the U.S. after the Iranian Revolution. We wrote on the back of the card, “In this place, they make music that could make you cry and there is beautiful dancing. One day, the people of Iran will dance and the women will sing. Iranian people will walk hand in hand with the rest of the world.” Each sentence was met with a quiet but firm “Inshallah [God willing].”

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Iran photo politics queer religion

Freedom in Iran

To a liberal, open-minded Westerner, it may be all too easy to enter Iran thinking that maybe most Iranian people like the Islamic regime, that the country’s laws, while unappealing (to say the least) to us, are to them not only acceptable but what they expect, and how they want their society to be organized. It is tempting to think that the differences between the Iranian system and, say, the U.S. system can be written off to culture. People vote in Iran, after all, and in the last elections chose Ahmedinejad. Very quickly, within the first few days in Iran, this sort of relativism was wiped clean from our minds.

Iran is not a place where people are free to decide to be Muslim, or follow traditional behaviors, or be for or against the government; it is a place where people feel oppressed by the fanatically religious minority, the mullahs who have undemocratic, total control over the government and military and dictate a way of life that people would not choose. We heard it far and wide, from older women to youngsters, from Muslims to Zoroastrians, from big cities to smaller towns. Of course, we spoke more often with people who speak English, and we communicated (in English, through a translator or by non-verbal means) more often with people who reached out to talk to us, the foreigners, but our sample size was not small–Iranians are exceptionally friendly and we spoke to literally many dozens of people during our month in Iran. The bottom line is that people do not feel free in Iran, and that people have a strong desire to be free.

Two hand gestures became very familiar to us while traveling in Iran and communicating with locals. The first was a hand wrapping an imaginary turban on one’s head, a symbol for the theocratic elite of the country. Repeatedly, people would make the gesture, sometimes accompanied by the hand stroking an imaginary beard, to signify that it is the mullahs who have control and are mismanaging the country and restricting people from enjoying their lives in the manner that they wish. The second was the throat-cutting gesture, hand across the neck, which was used surprisingly often not only to describe what would happen to you if you tried to exercise a freedom that was not provided under Islamic law, but also as a general symbol for the government–nowhere else have we seen people associate their government so closely and so repeatedly with execution. One person told us that the only thing stopping the Islamic government from restoring stoning as a form of punishment is international pressure.

What freedoms are missing in Iran? Iran is in some ways more free than other countries we have visited. Some public criticism of government officials (though not the unelected religious hierarchy) is permitted in the press, particularly since the Khatami presidency. Traveling about the country, it feels less like a police state than Syria, where to take a long-distance bus trip your ID is checked, or Uzbekistan, where during our visit in 2003 there were frequent police checkpoints on the roads. The police presence in Iran is fairly minimal, and soldiers (usually fulfilling their compulsory military service) are friendly. What makes Iran different from other countries with comparable freedom deficits is that the freedoms unavailable in Iran are deeply personal, things that affect people on an intimate, daily basis. People speak of the censorship and lack of freedom in countries such as China, but the reality is that, day-to-day, most people in China can live largely as they wish, where their personal lives are concerned; the government does not seem to involve itself. Syrians, who seem to have almost no political freedoms but do have many personal ones under their secular government, still seem quite content with their government. Political freedoms, I feel after a month in Iran, are in a sense secondary to those personal liberties that we demand in our private lives. Of course in many cases, including possibly Iran, political freedoms are necessary to achieve the more personal ones, but if you had to choose only one, politics would come second.

After one young man told us that the thing he wished most for Iran was freedom, we asked him, “What does freedom mean to you?” “I wish I could hold my girlfriend’s hand in the street,” was his reply. Romantic/Sexual freedom is core to our identity as humans (or even deeper, to our animal souls), and one area in which the Iranian government is particularly active. We were told by one man that he is afraid even to walk down the street with his girlfriend, because of the ever-present possibility of adverse action by the police. While young people often have illicit (sexual) relationships, the dating scene is so limited that almost everyone we heard having been married or about to be married was married or engaged to his or her cousin (though this may also have to do with the frequency of arranged marriages). Forms of sexual expression that may be illegal in other countries as well, but are likely usually tolerated, such as adultery and homosexuality, are capital offenses. One man told us that, if a man discovered that his new wife is not a virgin, he would have the right to annul the marriage and likely without much legal repercussion kill the man who had slept with her.

Freedom of religion/conscience is also core to our identities. While Iran permits the practice of certain non-Islamic religions (Judaism, Christianity and Zoroastrianism), following long-established Islamic custom, there are also severe restrictions on religious belief. Perhaps most shockingly, apostasy, or renunciation of Islam by a Muslim, is punishable by death. Given this ban, the permitted minority religions are not allowed to proselytize, nor are they allowed to worship publicly. Religions other than the permitted ones, including most infamously the Bahai faith, are severely persecuted with the full force of the state. Atheism, of course, is unthinkable.

When it comes to one’s romantic/sexual life or one’s faith, however, people will to some extent act according to their desires, regardless of the law. We were told that non-martial sexual relations were fairly common among young Iranians, some engaging in anal intercourse to preserve the woman’s technical virginity. Many of Iran’s parks, especially those located somewhat outside of city centers, are filled with amorous young couples hiding among the trees. There is even a dangerous but not-so-underground gay life in the big cities [see my post also of 6.6]. Similarly, Mohammed himself said that there is no compulsion in matters of religion, and people in Iran believe in their hearts and minds many things deviant from the Islamic legal requirements. We were told by several Iranians that it is common for a person to be a Muslim on paper (Iranian government ID cards state the citizen’s religion), but not be one in spirit. One woman we spoke to said that her father and her siblings were all essentially atheists, and that her father encouraged her to learn about other religions and to pick a faith that feels right to her. Another young man, who had grown to equate Islam with the hated Iranian government, told us outright that “Islam is shit” (!) and that he wanted to become Christian. (We tried with little traction to tell him that there were plenty of bad Christians in the world as well.) He wore on his neck a cross, which had been given to him by his parents, who accepted his choice. It was a shock to see in front of us a man actually wearing around his neck evidence that could be used to convict him of a capital offense.

Cross on the neck of a Muslim man who wished to convert to Christianity, a capital crime. After we took this photograph, the man, to our surprise, asked us to re-take the picture, with his face. Later, his friend reminded us never to show that second photograph to anyone (of course we had no intention), using the throat-cutting gesture.

But of
course people, while acting outside of the law, remain afraid. Iranians love to talk about politics, and wanted to talk to us about politics, but also let us know that they feared that our conversation was somehow being monitored. People told us that we, as Americans, were likely being followed, and a man who had invited us into his family home (such invitations are not uncommon in Iran, one of the friendliest and most hospitable countries in the world) was certain that the police knew that we were there. One man who wanted to speak to us had us step away from his university classmates, because he didn’t feel he could trust them not to report the conversation. The apparent total control that the government has, its apparent ability to monitor its citizens’ activities and the severe punishments provided under the law lead to a general sense of distrust and paranoia. Without such intimate and essential freedoms as sex and faith, nearly everyone becomes a potential criminal and target of the state, a person who has to live with distrust, paranoia and potential severe punishment.

All this leads to a sense of discontent and pessimism that we have not seen in many countries. One woman told us when we said we were from New York, “I wish I was born in America.” One young girl we spoke to, when we showed her pictures from New York, said that if she lived in New York she would never come to Iran. Another young man, hearing that we were American, said, “New York, yes. Los Angeles, yes. Iran, no. Mullah, ech,” and wrapped an imaginary turban about his head. “Will things change?” we often asked. The answer generally fell somewhere between thirty years and never. Those who were the most pessimistic said that their government was deliberately keeping the country at a relatively poor state of economic development, so that people would not have the energy for political action or rebellion. Others said that the mullahs very carefully calibrated the laws to give Iranians a modicum of freedom, such as the relatively recent allowing of women to ride bicycles, a change that an optimistic Iranian specifically identified to us as a sign of progress in Iran (though to us of course it sounded absurd). Multiple people said that the government encouraged the relatively free availability of hard drugs in Iran, because the religious elite prefers that young people be chemically dependent rather than politically active. One person painfully pointed out that Western governments don’t really even care about the Iranian people, raising a conflict with Iran only when it comes to issues of security such as the nuclear program.

Lee Bollinger said in his introduction to Ahmedinejad’s address at Columbia University that “there are not enough prisons to prevent an entire society that wants its freedom from achieving it.” In the longest conversations we had with Iranians, I tried to remind them of this, and I must confess that I cannot entirely understand why 100,000 women in Tehran, Shiraz and the other biggest cities don’t just suddenly take off their headscarves one day. But of course I understand that there are real risks, and that, while Iranians may be able to sense and desire the freedoms that we take as essential, I cannot feel the fear that someone who grew up in the Islamic regime feels. Until the day comes when freedoms are restored in Iran, many Iranian people will have to continue living parts of their lives underground, or emigrate, as so many are choosing. One fellow traveler we met in Iran, an Irishman, said that he would kiss the ground when he returned home. And indeed visiting Iran does make a visitor appreciate the freedoms he enjoys back home–but a better reaction than smugness or selfish relief is outrage, for these are freedoms that we should all be able to take for granted, should not even have to be thankful for. How to direct one’s outrage remains, of course, a difficult question.

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Iran photo politics

Being American in Iran

“Down with Israel / Down with USA”

Wearing the Stars and Stripes

When we told other tourists in Iran that we were American, they, after expressing surprise that we could get an Iranian visa at all, were intensely curious at how our experience was, usually assuming the worst. We imagine you’re curious as well. So, what’s it like being American in Iran?

First and overwhelmingly, any impression that you may have of Iranians hating America or believing America to be the “Great Satan” is 99.9% wrong. To the contrary, almost all Iranians have an almost irrational love of America and Americans. My Iranian-American friend had told me this many times, but even then I did not realize the extent to which merely being American would make us recipients of so warm a welcome, indeed make us so popular in Iran. Almost everyone reacts favorably to our being American–more so than in any other country we have visited. When we told one older lady that we were American, she cooed, “Ooh–great! We love Americans!” One Swiss tourist that we spoke to told us that before she arrived in Iran she was afraid that people would think that she was American, and react badly to her. “I was so wrong,” she told us, “Iranians love Americans. They want to go to America!” We saw one man wearing second-hand U.S. military clothing and many others wearing New York Yankees baseball caps. One young man insisted on writing in my notebook, in English, “The people of Iran love the people of the U.S.A.,” and wanted me to distribute his message in the U.S. [done] We were even told that many young Iranians, despising their own government, like George W. Bush!

Why do Iranians love America so much? I think there are three factors: political, economic and cultural.

A primary reason that many Iranians like America is that they find their own government backward and oppressive, and think of America as the epitome of progress and personal and political freedom–to put it tritely, a beacon of hope. I am cautious of believing that this is the dominant reason why Iranians like America, but I do believe that it is at least as important as the economic and cultural ones, especially with younger Iranians. We even heard it said that if America invades Iran (yes, the thought is on their mind, although most Iranians seem to recognize that the U.S. currently has enough on its plate), there will indeed be some Iranians lining up to welcome the U.S. troops (though I imagine that in the event of an actual invasion nationalism and self-defense would kick in, and the vast majority of people would oppose the alien invaders). All of the anti-American propaganda put forth by the Islamic regime and its press? It seems almost totally disregarded. (I even recall reading an article during the darkest days of the U.S. invasion of Iraq that Iranians believed that the invasion was probably actually going smoothly, and that the Iranian media was misrepresenting American progress.) Far from thinking America an enemy, I imagine that many educated Iranians’ worldview is far more similar to that of people in the U.S. and the West than that held by their government.

Probably close behind, America represents economic prosperity and opportunity. Iranians have a sense that their country has what it takes, including especially a talented and well-educated populace, to be far more successful than it is today (and from our time in Iran we believe that this sense is correct), and many Iranians believe that the main thing stopping Iran from such material progress is its government. One Iranian told us that the Islamic Revolution, with its accompanying brain drain, flight of foreign investment and know-how, disconnection from the global economy and medieval laws, set Iran back 200 years, not an uncommon belief. (Part of what depresses the Iranian economy are of course international sanctions. But interestingly, and perhaps changing my ideas on the efficacy of sanctions, some Iranians we met put the blame for sanctions on their own government for its unwillingness to improve relations with other countries, rather than other countries for imposing them.) With so many problems at home, not only political but economic, many young Iranians hope to emigrate, we ourselves having met in our brief stay not only people who will be leaving Iran in the next year for the likes of Canada and Australia but many more who wanted to and were making longer-term plans to emigrate. Almost all Iranians who were planning or hoping to emigrate told us that America would be their first choice, were it attainable, I imagine not only because America is uniquely a land of immigrants and has a large Iranian community but because Iranians are very familiar with America from American popular culture.

Which leads us to the final reason, which is that there may be certain cultural affinities between Iran and the U.S. Traveling in Iran has helped me recognize how Hollywood is perhaps America’s greatest asset. Many Iranians have satellite television, and multiple channels feature solidly American programming, from movies to reality shows (they even get NPR!). Iranians took quickly to addictive American popular culture (its brashness may be in tune with Iranian culture, one person hypothesized), and see through it a world not only different from their own but also more appealing. We were also repeatedly told that Iranians like Americans more than Brits or Europeans because they think that Americans are friendlier, while Europeans are relatively cold and impersonal. Are Americans actually friendlier? Maybe, but we also suspect that Americans in particular (along with perhaps people from other English-speaking countries) are quicker to engage Iranians at a personal level, including especially in political discussions, instead of staying somewhat more aloof or cautious about approaching certain subjects, and that this eagerness to converse frankly may lead to a feeling of intimacy or closeness. (A western woman who studies Iran told me that despite America’s somewhat troublesome history with Iran and the Pahlavis in the 20th century (see my post of 6.5), few Iranians held a grudge against the U.S., although many Iranians still hold strongly negative views against the U.K. for its historical negative involvement in Iran.) Finally, it doesn’t hurt that there are so many Iranian-Americans, and that the U.S. is home to a pre-revolutionary Iranian culture in exile. Often, we heard music playing that was identified to us as “L.A. Iranian music,” or music from Iranian artists (including women, who are legally prohibited from singing in Iran) who fled to “Tehrangeles” after the Islamic Revolution.

To be popular and liked is nice, of course, even if only because we come from a particularly country. But traveling in Iran has also made us aware of some things about ourselves and America.

We are reminded how core to our beliefs certain American ideals are. Even with what we think are our liberal, open minds, certain issues stand out as black and white for us, and being in Iran has made these issues seem more clear and important than ever, as the lack of certain basic freedoms in Iran is mentioned with despair by many Iranians that we speak to. We didn’t come here to be propangandists for our system, or to make any kind of political point–we came as tourists. But political discussions constantly arise in Iran because Iranians love talking about politics, and because the circumstances of their country bring so vividly to the fore many political issues. Sometimes, Iranians we speak to simply ask what we think about our government or theirs. Other times, we get questions about Western perceptions of Iran or what we think about the hejab, or Islamic dress code. Because we are not satisfied at feeling smugly relieved that we’re from the “land of the free,” because we feel genuinely distressed about
the laws in Iran and because Iranians feel close to us, making us feel close to them, we have felt a moral obligation to give honest and complete answers, and not cursory or glib ones, so that people understand how we think and exactly what our objections are to certain aspects of the Iranian system. In almost every conversation we have with Iranians, they are disgruntled with their system, and we want to make clear to them that most of the world would agree that they should be disgrunted, and that they are right that things in Iran are askew. The Iranians’ friendliness, their mastery of English and their relative sophistication, all made us feel that they really should have what we have, in terms of civil liberties and a free society; everyone should, but almost especially them.

At the same time, I have come to recognize some arguably negative things about life in America and the West. When describing things in the U.S. and elsewhere, it is amazing how often sex, alcohol, gambling, etc., arise. We mentioned that we were in Bahrain immediately before Iran, and, when asked about Bahrain, had to explain how Saudis drive over the causeway for alcohol and prostitution, a very visible aspect of downtown Manama. We were talking about indigenous peoples, and ended up describing how U.S. Native American economies are now based largely on gambling. The same, of course, with Macau, pictures of which on our iPod we sometimes shared. (From the same set of pictures, we found ourselves explaining the redlight district near the former Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines.) Unwittingly, I would use sexual double-entendres with our tour guide (so much of our humor relates back to sex). Western culture is often, as Iranian clerics may argue, permeated with vice. While the same vices may exist to some extent in Iran, forced underground they are not nearly as visible or pervasive.

Perhaps most chillingly, being in Iran made me wonder whether this is the sort of outcome that religious conservatives want for America. Iran has it all: laws dictated by religion, sectarianism (in its persecution of faiths such as the Bahai), harsh punishments for private beliefs and acts, deviation from accepted international standards. I am not saying that the U.S. is Iran; while there is a strain of puritanicalism and evangelicalism running through American history the culture is nowhere near as traditional, the population as a whole not as devout, and, perhaps as important, separation of church and state is a stronger American tradition than adherance to a particular faith (whereas past Iranian governments, from the Sassanids to the Safavids, have very much tried to combine church and state). But many Iranians, at the time of the 1979 revolution, likely didn’t think that the new government would be an Islamic one, and to a certain extent it must have snuck up on them. And so it makes me believe freedom-loving Americans must be vigilant in making sure that the ideals they hold most dear persist in America.

One small story, a bit more personal: We met one Iranian man in Tehran who said that he had lived in the U.S. for over thirty years, and finally decided to move back to Iran, bringing with him his two young, American-born children. He told us how happy he was with his decision, including by relating to us that, on the first day of school in Iran, his boys had come home so relieved, so comfortable to be among people like themselves and away from the racial tension of their California school. I was simply appalled. Given the lack of freedoms in Iran, given the lack of economic opportunity, given that almost every young Iranian wants to move abroad, I simply could not believe that this man had brought his American children to grow up in Iran. My adversity was irrational, to a certain extent, but as an immigrant and having many immigrant friends, I was forced to imagine how different (and likely more difficult) the children’s lives would be because of their parents’ decision. I thought of all of the sacrifices my parents made to give us the chance to grow up in the U.S., and thought the Iranian-American selfish. Hearing him speak of America in the third person, as if he was not effectively American himself from having spent all of his adult life in the U.S., I was deeply offended. Hearing him say strongly negative things about American culture, including what I felt were outright falsehoods on the immigrant experience and the veracity of the “melting pot,” as if modern Iranian culture was, in the balance, superior, I feared that Iranians would believe his slanders. I expressed my outrage, somewhat to my discredit, which the man handled well.

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Iran photo

History of Iran: The Islamic Revolution

This is part of a series of an overview of Iranian history–please refer to my posts of 5.10, 5.11, 5.19, 5.27 and 6.1.

***

“Freedom! Islamic Republic!”

The troubled reign of the Qajars (1794-1925) was terminated by military officer Reza Khan, who took the name of Pahlavi (after the pre-Islamic language) and declared himself Shah, founding the Pahlavi dynasty. Reza Shah began a program of rapid industrialization and secularization (modeled in part after Turkish contemporary Ataturk, including a program of westernization of dress), which was to a certain extent successful but also created many opponents. His son, Mohammed Reza Shah, would be the last king of Iran.

Mohammed Reza’s problems began in part with his cooperation with the CIA in a successful coup to overthrow the popular Prime Minister Mohammed Mossadeq, who had just nationalized the country’s oil industry to the great disadvantage of the British, who were operating a concession. Economic mismanagement and harsh persecution of dissidents through a secret police led to widespread discontent, leading to yet greater protests and crackdowns. Finally, in 1979, Mohammed Reza Shah fled Iran, and an exiled opposition leader named Ayatollah Khomeini returned to Iran to seize control.

Bank bills immediately after the Islamic Revolution, left in circulation but with the portrait of Mohammed Reza stamped out

Opposition to the policies of Mohammed Reza Shah were spread across a wide swath of the political spectrum. However, Ayatollah Khomeini with quick and ruthless organization in the months following the departure of Mohammed Reza Shah founded the reactionary and undemocratic Islamic Republic of Iran.

Home of Ayatollah Khomeini following the Islamic Revolution

Shiite Islam became the language of the Iranian state, and laws based on a medieval reading of Islam, including the hejab, or Islamic dress code, and the reduction of the marriage age for girls to 9, were enacted. Capital punishment became the law for homosexual sex, apostasy (rejection of Islam) and numerous other offenses. Stoning and other corporal punishments were revived. Khomeini became the unelected “Supreme Leader,” who (rather than the elected President) controlled the military and the judiciary, and appointed the “Guardian Council” that has an effective veto on the laws passed by the democratically elected parliament, the Majlis, and as supervisor of elections can disqualify politicians from running for office.

Khomeini blessed the invasion of and taking of hostages at the U.S. Embassy in 1979, calling the U.S. the “Great Satan” and making opposition to the U.S. a key aspect of Iranian state policy. Khomeini also made opposition to Israel a key Iranian position [more on this to come in a future post on Iranian identity].

Defaced seal of the U.S., Former U.S. Embassy, Tehran

Art on the walls outside the former U.S. Embassy, Tehran

Following the death of Khomeini in 1989, he was succeeded by Ayatollah Khameini, who, as Supreme Leader, was able to thwart the reform ambitions of former President Khatami.

This shrine at Qom (described a bit in my post of 6.2) and the shrine in Mashhad, the holiest one in Iran, are essentially two huge construction projects, with additions being built (in a somewhat shabby manner, it appeared to us) at a fast rate. Some Iranians that we spoke to complained about the state funds that were expended on expansions of religious buildings, including Shiite mosques in other countries (such as Lebanon and Bahrain, both of which are substantially wealthier than Iran) and gold domes, and religious education (to the detriment of secular education).

Finally, a political joke told to us by an Iranian man in one of Tehran’s many beautiful parks: A man walked by a mosque and saw that it was serving food. Puzzled, the man asked his friend where the worshippers were. The friend said that to see people praying, you should go to the University. (Tehran University is famously the site of Friday prayers in Tehran, although few students attend.) “If the University is filled with worshippers, where are the students?” he asked. “The students are all in prison.” “If the prison is filled with students, where are the criminals?” “They are running the government!”

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Bahrain India Iran Kuwait photo Syria

Women of Cover

In our travels thus far through the Middle East, we’ve seen a variety of different styles of cover for women, and I thought that it would be interesting to compare them. Please note that this is intended to be something of a fashion post, rather than a post debating the hejab (Islamic dress code) itself. [Note: None of the individuals pictured was a source of any information for this or any post.]

Colored headscarves

Young women in Syria. In Syria, the scarf is very much a fashion accessory in addition to a religious and customary expectation. In the big cities, many women choose to go without.


Ladies’ police uniforms, Bahrain

Television personality, Bahrain

European tourists at a hotel restaurant, Iran (female tourists, like all women in Iran over the age of 8, are required to obey the hejab in public places)

Trendy mother and daughter, Iran

More trendy scarves, Iran

Black headscarves

We never confirmed this, but this style of headscarf must be required in schools and certain jobs, as they are quite common in Iran.

Getting away with showing a lot of hair, Iran

Black robes

A full black robe is fairly common in more traditional parts of the Arab world, including the Gulf.

Kuwait. Kuwaiti women all seem to wear their hair in huge buns.

Bahrain

A bedouin woman, looking quite stylish in Aleppo, Syria

Young ladies in Hyderabad, India, in style

A step further

The chador, the standard Iranian cover for older women

Iranian tourist in chador, Syria. There are many Iranian tourists in Damascus, on pilgrimage to Shiite sites.

The most annoying thing about wearing a chador, I think, must be the fact that it doesn’t have any clasp to stay together, forcing the wearer to constantly hold it in place, either with hands or teeth. This chador has a pattern.

A druze woman, Syria

An exotic tribal look, in Bahrain. We like to call this type of face cover a “beak.”

I’m not sure why, but one of these ladies in Aleppo, Syria has her face totally covered, not too common a look.

Burka store, Hyderabad. Burkas are sometimes seen in India and the Arab world, but not all that common in the countries we have visited (though I recall seeing quite a few in Zanzibar). Burkas are not worn in Iran, other than perhaps by the Arab minority.

A burka-style hood and face cover, in Damascus, Syria. Again, not too common.

Extras

As a reminder that head covers and veils are not uniquely Muslim, a (Hindu) Rajasthani woman from India. Of course, Christian women also often wear veils, especially in churches.

The wearing of cover in the Middle East is definitely a pre-Islamic custom. A carving at Palmyra, Syria, dating from the 1st or 2nd century AD showing women in veils.

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Iran photo

Iranian architecture

Regent’s Mosque, Shiraz

Iran is of course a center of world culture, and perhaps its greatest legacy to the world is its architecture, including especially Islamic religious architecture.

Some of my favorite Iranian architectural features are the oldest–the brick- and stuccowork that decorate Iranian buildings from the 9th to 12th centuries. [My favorite example of such brickwork (and one of my favorite buildings, period), is from 10th century Samanid Bukhara and will appear in a post on the Samanids to come.]

The Jorjir Portal dates from the 10th century (and was only rediscovered in the 1950s), and is now an entrance to the Hakim Mosque, Esfahan, itself a much newer structure.

The Kharaqan towers, 11th century, reportedly built as tombs for two Seljuk Kings. The tomb towers are now in the middle of a field (not too far from Qazvin).

Detail. Each face of the more ornate (and newer) building has unique geometric patterns. Dazzling, though also bordering on the baroque.

Similarly ornate are the Seljuk-era brick domes of the Friday Mosque of Esfahan, itself an architectural treasure spanning centuries of styles.

A much later example of brickwork, from the Karim Khan Citadel of Shiraz (18th c.).

The patterns on the towers of the Shiraz citadel are similar to mud brickwork on ruined cities and caravanserais in the Iranian desert (date unknown). [picture to come]

Another type of ornamentation that seems to have fallen out of favor sometime before or during the Mongol conquest–stucco. This example is from the Nain Mosque (10th c.), which is notable for being built in the “Arab” style before the form of the Iranian mosque was established. Our experience suggests that stucco decoration is not very durable, and often only fragments remain.

The exquisite stucco Oljeitu Mihrab (14th c.), with beautifully carved minbars. For additional information, see my post of 5.27.

From what I understand, muqarnas, the “stalactite” ornamentations found in Iranian niches, began as structural necessities–but the level of elaboration can be remarkable.

Nazir-ol-Molk Mosque, Shiraz (19th c.)

Kerman Bazaar (18th c.)

Iranian architecture is perhaps most famous for its domes and tilework. The Soltaniyeh Dome (14th c.) is one of the most impressive structures we have ever seen, and one of the largest domes in the world. For additional information, see my post of 5.27.

This dome was in a trading hall in Kashan’s bazaar. Try to get a sense of the scale and design!

Some more domes, from inside and out.

Imam Mosque, Esfahan (17th c.)

Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque, Esfahan (17th c.)

Friday Mosque, Yazd

Ganj Ali Khan Mosque, Kerman

Some minarets

Imam Mosque, Esfahan

Friday Mosque, Yazd

The mathematician in me was fascinated by the geometric tilework of Iran’s buildings, especially the calligraphy. It is fortunate that Arabic script is so decorative, given the Islamic ban on representational art!

Hakim Mosque, Esfahan

Friday Mosque, Kerman

Friday Mosque, Esfahan

Also from the Hakim Mosque in Esfahan. Not calligraphy, but beautiful.

Of course, not all of Iranian architecture is religious. The palaces of Esfahan, though modest in scale, are among the most beautiful we have seen anywhere (see my post of 5.19), and as you can see in the Kerman and Kashan photos above, the bazaars of Iran are richly decorated.

We were told that Iranian leaders often dedicated attention not only to the construction of mosques (to fulfill the religious function) and bazaars (the economic), but also baths (the social). Sadly, most of Iran’s hammams are no longer in service (cf. my post of 4.27 on other bathing traditions), although I did visit functioning public baths in Yazd and Qazvin. We confirmed that the public bathing culture ended at the time of the Islamic Revolution–presumably, public bathing was thought decadent and a possible locus of misbehavior. [Perhaps under the same theory, men’s urinals seem to have been abolished in Iran–the only ones we found were at the airport, and Iranian men seemed to avoid them, preferring to wait for a stall. At one of the Iranian public baths I did visit, men wore swim trunks and showered in newly constructed stalls, all of which seemed a bit silly to me.] This hammam in Kerman, like many in Iran, has been converted into a teahouse (see my post of 6.2 on the shop outside the entrance).

Finally, we were amazed by some of the gardens of Iran. Not so much because of their plants or general aesthetic layout (east Asian gardens are in a totally different league), but because of their hydraulics. Many Iranian cities are located at the edge of the desert and use water from mountain springs instead of rain, and the gardens have been laid out to take advantage of these sources of water. Mountain springs are channeled through the garden, with numerous waterways spreading the flow into beautiful, crystal clear grids–almost creating the effect of a gigantic fountain. The waters of the gardens then empty out into orchards and the “gutters” of the city. The clear mountain water coursing through the urban landscape is used to flood-water the plants and trees lining city streets and provides Iranian cities with a feeling that is clean and fresh.

Frontal view of Shahzade Garden, Mahan (in the desert near Kerman)

Fin Garden, Kashan. The pool of water in front is the spring itself, from which waterways thread through the whole garden.

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faces Iran photo

Faces of Iran

Soldiers, Naqsh-e Jahan Square, Esfahan

I thought that you might enjoy seeing some photographs of the many, many friendly Iranians we met on our trip. Iranians truly deserve their reputation, among travelers, as some of the warmest and most hospitable people on earth. As I mentioned in my post of 5.9, one of the justifications for the hejab, or Islamic dress code, for women is the outstanding beauty of Iranian women, which would drive men to inappropriate or violent behavior–you can judge for yourself how they stack up to their freer sisters in other parts of the world! [Note: None of the individuals pictured was a source of any information for this or any post.]

A fairly typical young man, Shiraz. Persian Iranians generally have dark hair and eyes.

A fashionable young lady, Shiraz. The form of cover here, a black hood separate from the rest of the outfit, is very common among students–it must required in Iranian schools and universities. Shiraz is, after Tehran, the most liberal of Iran’s cities, and this lady fits in–note the ample and dyed hair peaking out from under the veil and the relatively heavy makeup. Iranian women, for all their legal restrictions, are famous for being rather vain–nose jobs are practically de rigueur.

This feisty girl from Hamedan started out fairly friendly, bringing us cookies, but then, with our guide as translator, gave us a taste of her sharp attitude with comments on our backpacker mode of dress (“I thought Americans were rich, why do you look so poor?”) and Derek’s shaved head (“You better put on your hat, or you’ll burn your head.”). Before long, a large crowd was gathered to hear our repartee.

Young girl, Shiraz. The hejab is required starting from age 9 (termed by Derek the “magic year,” and presumably the age at which the religious establishment thinks that women become enticing), and so I assume this girl is around 8 years old.

Young girl, Yazd. Too young to require cover, but cute in it nonetheless!

Some attractive young adults, Kerman, Yazd and Esfahan. There was a huge population boom after the Islamic Revolution (promoted by the government), and now some 70% of Iranians are under the age of 30.





This cute soldier was satisfying his compulsory military service with museum duty, at a museum that is closed for renovation no less. Sweet gig!

Elderly man and woman, Abiyaneh (see post of 5.22)

Elderly man tending shop in the Kerman bazaar. He told us that he had been at his current location selling bathing goods for over fifty years–he had not changed his line of merchandise despite the fact that the bath his shop is located in front of had been converted into a teahouse more than a dozen years ago.

A cleric, looking particularly unpleasant during a procession for the death of Fatima, Esfahan

Cleric, Qom. Qom is, after Mashhad, Iran’s holiest city and is also the center of religious education in Iran. This gentleman worked in the tourist office at the central shrine in Qom, and answered frankly and helpfully my many questions about Iranian Shiite Islam until I asked whether Muslim Iranians are able to change religions if they wish (my question was repeatedly evaded and then answered untruthfully).

Below are pictures of some of Iran’s many ethnic minorities–Persians make up only some 50% or so of Iran’s population (cf. Syrian post of 4.25), the rest consisting of Azeri Turks, Kurds and others.

An Azeri Turk. When asked, this taxi driver answered that his family was originally from Russia, by which I assume somewhere in or around Azerbaijan, which was part of the former Soviet Union. Azeri Turks form Iran’s largest ethnic group after the Persians, comprising some 25% of the population.

Also a Turk, with a bit too sensitive a face to be a waiter!

A Kurd, selling baggy Kurdish pants. Kurds were not only among the friendliest of Iranians (tough competition for this title!) but, we were told by a Persian, “Kurds never lie.” Some Iranians of Persian descent felt that their Persian brothers were sometimes, or even “always,” duplicitous, though this was not our experience at all. Kurds make up some 10% of Iran’s population.

The Lors, Bakhtiary and Qashqai are three nomadic or partially/formerly nomadic ethnic groups, living around central/western Iran. Many believe that these groups are some of the original inhabitants of now Iran.

A young Lorish man. We were told that the Lors hold a privileged position in contemporary Iranian society. They are also known for their strength–the soldiers pictured at the top of this post were from Lorestan, and one was able to match Derek in his finger strength trick.

An elderly Lorish man, in traditional hat

An elderly Qashqai man, in traditional hat

Bakhtiari man, Tehran

Southeastern Iran, as well as the part of Pakistan that is across the border, is known as Baluchistan and is peopled by Baluchis, who are South Asian in appearance and culture. Baluchi man, Kerman.

Jewish man, Hamedan. We were told that there are about 25,000 Jews left in Iran (largely in the biggest cities, where they form a rather wealthy minority). Some Iranians were quick to point out that Jews live peacefully and unmolested in Iran, and that their problem was not with Jews but Israelis and Zionists. This man confirmed that no problems stemmed from his religion in Iran.

Zoroastrian man

Afghan boy, Shiraz. Many Afghanis have come to Iran for work, including primarily construction work. Young Afghan boys troll around city parks and other public spaces, selling gum or fortunes to passers-by. Despite the extensive shared history and common language (the Afghanis in Iran seem to be largely Persian/Dari speakers), Afghanis in Iran seem to suffer from a fair amount of discrimination.

Another young man from Afghanistan, this time Hazara, the “Asiatic” minority group of Afghanistan. This young man had lived in Iran all of his life and was working in southeastern Iran as a mechanic. Incredible smile!

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Iran photo

History of Iran: Qajars

This is part of a series of an overview of Iranian history–please refer to my posts of 5.10, 5.11, 5.19 and 5.27.

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Safavid control of Iran (covered in my post of 5.19) began to decline in the end of the 17th century, not long after the reign of Shah Abbas the Great. By the beginning of the 18th century, Afghan forces would overwhelm Iran, invading and occupying cities as far as the Safavid capital of Esfahan. Persian control of Iran was restored by military leader Nader Khan, later self-crowned Nader Shah, who conquered not only now Afghanistan but famously raided India, bringing back some of the Moghul rulers’ greatest treasures, including the diamonds known as the Kuh-e Nur and the Darya-ye Nur (likely from Golconda’s mines–see my post of 3.28). Nader Shah was killed in 1747, after which most of Iran was ruled by Karim Khan Zand, a peaceful and successful ruler who established his capital at Shiraz.

Soon after the death of Karim Khan Zand, Agha Mohammed Qajar, of Azeri Turkish descent, was able to establish control over Iran and found the Qajar dynasty, with its capital at the then-village of Tehran. The Qajars, who ruled Iran from 1794 to 1925, are best known for their failures as rulers, bringing Iran from its glorious past to its troubled twentieth century.

Although the first Qajar rulers were relatively successful, the Qajars in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries lost a series of wars resulting in the loss of substantial territory (now Azerbaijan, now Armenia and part of now Turkmenistan to Russia, parts of now Afghanistan and Pakistan to Britain), as well as the payment by Iran of indemnities and the grant by Iran of extraterritorial rights to foreign governments. Starting in the second half of the nineteenth century, economic decline and Qajar mismanagement also came in the form of the selling of financial, infrastructure and mineral development/exploitation rights to foreign governments and nationals. By the early twentieth century, Iran was essentially run by the Russians and the British, who had carved up the country as part of their other “Great Game” territorial divisions (with the Russians controlling Central Asia and the British controlling their Indian Empire and Afghanistan). The unfair selling of concessions to foreign interests would also leave a deep scar on the Iranian psyche–the control and pricing of Iranian oil concessions are responsible for much of Iranian turbulence in the twentieth century and average Iranian citizens today are still much filled with distrust and suspicion about foreigners coming to “steal” Iran’s resources.

In my view, Qajar rule was not only a period of political and economic decline, but also a period of artistic decline. Qajar-era structures are not only less impressive structurally than those of Iran’s other periods, but decoration becomes downright strange and incongruous. Our guide also suggested (perhaps unfairly but revealing the contemporary Iranian point of view that the Qajars were responsible for a lot of what went wrong with Iran, at least until the Islamic Revolution) that the Qajars were poor stewards of Iran’s cultural heritage, overseeing a period of ruination and destruction.

While we first saw in India mirrors embedded in walls as a form of decoration, it is not clear to me where the idea originated. But the concept seems to have reached its, um, height in Qajar Iran. Still a common form of Iranian interior decoration, not only in private spaces such as homes but also for religious shrines (including religious shrines built by Iran in other countries), such rooms are something of a horror to the taste of a modern non-Iranian viewer, reminiscent of a carnival hall of mirrors, although I must admit that some of the rooms are remarkably sparkly.

A private home in Shiraz, now converted into a museum.

Truly dazzling, the Imamzadeh-ye Ali Ebn-e Hamze in Shiraz. An imamzadeh is a shrine to a relative of one of the twelve Shiite Imams (in this case, a nephew of the seventh Imam) (cf. my post of 5.20 on Shia Islam).

The Marble Throne Veranda at the Golestan Palace in Tehran. The extravagant spending for the construction of the many buildings of the Golestan Palace is said to have aggravated the Qajars’ financial woes.

The Marble Throne is, for something that obviously took much effort and expense to craft, quite ugly. [picture to come]

The Zand-era Regent’s Mosque in Shiraz is a beautiful building [picture to come in a post on Iranian architecture], but its interior has been tainted, in my view, by Qajar tiles. I have two objections to Qajar tilework. The first is the subject matter depicted in them–the Qajars had a fascination with the West, extending to European Christian architecture, a totally unfit image for a tile in a mosque.

Tile inside prayer hall of the Regent’s Mosque, Shiraz, depicting Christian churches

The second is that they are often very poorly executed, as if rushed by conscripted grade school students.

Typically poorly painted tile, Golestan Palace, Tehran

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Iran religion Syria

Assassins

This is intended as a revision of my post of 4.12.

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One of our goals on this trip is to connect related places in different countries, and so we visited the Assassin castles of Misyaf in Syria and Alamut in Iran.

Misyaf Castle, near Hama, Syria

Alamut Castle, near Qazvin, Iran

In order to understand the origin of the Assassins, it is helpful to go back to the beginning of Islam. After the death of Mohammed in 632 AD, there arose a dispute as to who should succeed his role as the (religious and political) head of the Islamic world. One faction supported Ali, cousin and son-in-law of Mohammed, while others supported Abu Bakr. Abu Bakr was elected the first caliph (or successor to Mohammed), followed in relatively quick succession by Umar, Uthman, and then finally Ali. Showing the contentiousness of the power struggles at the time, Umar, Uthman and Ali each met his end by murder. Some blamed the death of Uthman on the Ali faction (now known as Shiites), while the Shiites blamed the death of Ali on the others (now known as Sunnis). Following the death of Ali, the Sunni Umayyad dynasty, based in Damascus, took over the caliphate. During this period, the conflict between the majority Sunnis and the minority Shiites deepened, especially after the Umayyads killed Ali’s son Hussein, much of his family and many of his followers, in a battle near Karbala in now Iraq.

While the Shiites have been out of the majority and power in most of the Islamic world since, there have been significant times and areas when they came into control. One of the most important areas was and remains Iran, where (Twelver) Shiites form a majority. [Cf. my post of 5.20 for an introduction to Iranian Shia Islam.] Another was the Cairo-based (Sevener Shia or Ismaili) Fatimid caliphate, named after Fatima, daughter of Mohammed and wife of Ali, which ruled much of North Africa, Egypt and nearby lands from 910-1171. [The Twelver and Sevener Shias had split earlier due to a dispute on the identity of the seventh Imam–post on Sevener Shias likely to come.]

Around 1090, the Fatimids suffered from their own succession problem. The losing faction refused to accept the new Fatimid ruler in Cairo and formed a somewhat radical rebel group in now Iran, known to us as the Assassins. The founder of the Assassins, Hassan Sabbah, established a base at Alamut in northern Iran and led his group into repeated conflict with the prevailing Sunni Muslim hierarchy. A second group of Assassins became established in now Syria, and was particularly active under the leadership of Rashid al-Din Sinan, who based himself at Misyaf Castle starting in 1140. It is believed that there may have been a third group of Assassins in now Iraq.

As you may know, the word “assassin,” which we use now to describe professional killers, derives from the Assassins, who are called Assassins because it was rumored that they took hashish before embarking on their missions. And much like the contemporary English meaning of the word and its derivative, assassination, the missions of the Assassins, their method of operation, was murder: the strategic killing or attempted killing of Sunni Muslim leaders, including those of the Seljuk Turks of Anatolia and Crusader-foe Saladin. The Assassins would work by embedding an operative, sometimes over the course of years, in order to murder, or assassinate, a prominent leader or otherwise powerful or influential person.

Saladin’s greatest success, prior to his defeat of the Crusaders at the Battle of Hattin in 1187, was the conquest of Egypt from the Fatimid caliphate in 1171. After terminating Fatimid rule, Saladin wanted to consolidate his (Sunni) control over the region, including by wiping out the Assassins in now Syria. In 1176, Saladin sieged the castle of Misyaf. According to legend, Saladin woke up one morning during the siege to find on his bed a dagger or poisoned cakes and a threatening note, depending on the story you believe, making clear that the Assassins had infiltrated his camp and could murder him at their will. The siege was called off.

The Assassins of now Iran met their end in 1256, when Hulagu, Genghiz Khan’s grandson, sucessfully sieged Alamut [cf. post of 5.27 on Hulagu and the Ilkhanids]. The Syrian branch would persist until 1273, when it was defeated by the Mamlukes.

Ruins of Alamut

Column capital at Misyaf, evidence of earlier fortifications at the site

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Excerpt from Marco Polo on the Hassan Sabbah and the Fortress of Alamut:

The Old Man was called in their language ALOADIN. He had caused a certain valley between two mountains to be enclosed, and had turned it into a garden, the largest and most beautiful that ever was seen, filled with every variety of fruit. In it were erected pavilions and palaces the most elegant that can be imagined, all covered with gilding and exquisite painting. And there were runnels too, flowing freely with wine and milk and honey and water; and numbers of ladies and of the most beautiful damsels in the world, who could play on all manner of instruments, and sung most sweetly, and danced in a manner that it was charming to behold. For the Old Man desired to make his people believe that this was actually Paradise. So he had fashioned it after the description that Mahommet gave of his Paradise, to wit, that it should be a beautiful garden running with conduits of wine and milk and honey and water, and full of lovely women for the delectation of all its inmates. And sure enough the Saracens of those parts believed that it _was_ Paradise!

Now no man was allowed to enter the Garden save those whom he intended to be his ASHISHIN. There was a Fortress at the entrance to the Garden, strong enough to resist all the world, and there was no other way to get in. He kept at his Court a number of the youths of the country, from 12 to 20 years of age, such as had a taste for soldiering, and to these he used to tell tales about Paradise, just as Mahommet had been wont to do, and they believed in him just as the Saracens believe in Mahommet. Then he would introduce them into his garden, some four, or six, or ten at a time, having first made them drink a certain potion which cast them into a deep sleep, and then causing them to be lifted and carried in. So when they awoke, they found themselves in the Garden.

When therefore they awoke, and found themselves in a place so charming, they deemed that it was Paradise in very truth. And the ladies and damsels dallied with them to their hearts’ content, so that they had what young men would have; and with their own good will they never would have quitted the place.

Now this Prince whom we call the Old One kept his Court in grand and noble style, and made those simple hill-folks about him believe firmly that he was a great Prophet. And when he wanted one of his _Ashishin_ to send on any mission, he would cause that potion whereof I spoke to be given to one of the youths in the garden, and then had him carried into his Palace. So when the young man awoke, he found himself in the Castle, and no longer in that Paradise; whereat he was not over well pleased. He was then conducted to the Old Man’s presence, and bowed before him with great veneration as believing himself to be in the presence of a true Prophet. The Prince would then ask whence he came, and he would reply that he came from Paradise! and that it was exactly such as Mahommet had described it in the Law. This of course gave the others who stood by, and who had not been admitted, the greatest desire to enter therein.

So when the Old Man would have any Prince slain, he would say to such a youth: “Go thou and slay So and So; and when thou returnest my Angels shall bear thee into Paradise. And shouldst thou die, natheless even so will I send my Angels to carry thee back into Paradise.” So he caused them to believe; and thus there was no order of his that they would not affront any peril to execute, for the great desire they had to get back into that Paradise of his. And in this manner the Old One got his people to murder any one whom he desired to get rid of. Thus, too, the great dread that he inspired all Princes withal, made them become his tributaries in order that he might abide at peace and amity with them.

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Iran photo

History of Iran: Mongols and Il Khanid

This is part of a series of an overview of Iranian history–please refer to my posts of 5.10, 5.11 and 5.19.

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After unifying the various Mongol and Turkic forces in Central Asia, Genghiz Khan conquered much of Asia in the 13th century. The destruction in some areas was unprecedented (the destruction of Merv is still considered to be the deadliest ever conquest of a city), but also with the Mongol Empire came a regional stability that allowed a flowering of trade routes, including the ones followed by Marco Polo and Ibn Battuta (imagine, only one visa required!). In Iran, Genghiz Khan’s grandson Hulagu Khan founded the Ilkhanate dynasty. The disintegration of the Ilkhanate kingdom in the mid-14th century brought with it a series of minor rulers over now Iran, until the conquests of Tamerlane from now Uzbekistan in the 15th century. Tamerlane’s dynasty was even more fleeting, largely over by the reign of his grandson.

When one thinks of Mongols one may think of barbarians on horses, nomadic people whose thirst for violence and pillaging was greater than any appetite for civilization or culture. However, by the time of the establishment of Ilkhanid control over now Iran, the Mongols had adopted much of the civilization of the areas they had conquered, commissioning great Islamic art as well as spreading Chinese art forms in western Asia.

In Iran it is possible to see many relics of the Mongol and Ilkhanid periods, including two true wonders, both commissioned by Sultan Oljeitu (1280-1316), the great-grandson of Hulagu Khan. The Ilkhanid Sultan from 1304-1316, Oljeitu was first baptized a Christian, but later converted to Buddhism, Sunni Islam and then Shiite Islam, showing the great diversity of religious belief in the Mongol domains and the difficulties that the Mongols had in choosing which religion to adopt.

One Oljeitu-reign masterpiece is the prayer hall that he commissioned for the Friday Mosque of Esfahan, now called the Oljeitu chamber.

The most memorable part of the chamber, and one of the single most impressive art works in all of Iran, is the stucco mihrab.

Another Oljeitu masterwork is his tomb (by some accounts originally built for the bodies of the earliest Shiite Imams, which he wanted to bring from Iraq), a stupendously large domed mausoleum in the Ilkhanid capital of Soltaniyeh, now a few hours west of Tehran. The building, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, remains the largest brick dome in the world and one of the earliest examples of a double dome, prefiguring such buildings as the Taj Mahal.

Upstairs gallery of the Oljeitu Mausoleum. The patterns on the back wall are said to resemble Mongolian textiles.

Perhaps most immediately evoking the Asian-ness of the Mongols is their pottery. Clearly handed down from a Chinese tradition, pottery of the era, though presumably made in now Iran, feature faces that are clearly east Asian.