Iranians Debate the Reality of ‘Aryan Islam’

A general view taken from Western Tehran shows a blanket of brown-white smog (Picture: AFP/Getty Images)
A general view taken from Western Tehran shows a blanket of brown-white smog (Picture: AFP/Getty Images)
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Iranians Debate the Reality of ‘Aryan Islam’

A general view taken from Western Tehran shows a blanket of brown-white smog (Picture: AFP/Getty Images)
A general view taken from Western Tehran shows a blanket of brown-white smog (Picture: AFP/Getty Images)

It took five years to build, cost more than $10 million, used large quantities of gold, silver and ebony, and engaged over 600 of the country’s finest craftsmen. It then made a 2,000-kilometer journey to its destination, stopping in many village and towns on the way to that its sight would bestow blessings on the people. Everywhere it was accompanied by a delegation of clerics, preachers and heavily armed security men.

The “it” in question is the frame that surrounds the tomb of Salman Farsi whose shrine is located in the Salman-Pak (The Pure) just south of the Iraqi capital Baghdad. The shrine had suffered decades of neglect, its dome peeling off and its basic structures weakened by the elements. Today, the shrine is back to its former glory and fitted with a huge crystal chandelier and paved with fine Persian carpets.

The idea to renovate the shrine was first raised by a group of devotees in Isfahan where Salman is reputed to have spent part of his childhood in the 7th century AD.

A crowd funding scheme provided the seed money required for the project which in its latest stages also received public finance in the context of a growing trend to highlight Iran’s links with Islam from the earliest phases of that religion.

Salman the Persian was one of the earliest non-Arab converts to Islam and a prominent member of the Prophet’s entourage in Medina. He is remarkable for his abiding status as a pious and at the same time dexterous man whose military and diplomatic know-how rendered immense services to Islam in its early stages.

Born into a prominent Zoroastrian family in Kazerun, southern Iran, Salman, whose Persian name was “Ruzbeh” started his career as an officer in the Sassanid army but soon decided to give up his commission and travel “in search of the truth”. His journeys took him to Ctesiphon, then capital of the Sassanid Empire, in Mesopotamia and hence to Syria, then a province of the Byzantine Empire. It was there that he encountered the Anchorite Christians and was fascinated by the idea of prophets sent by God to guide the people. He then traveled south to the Arabian Peninsula where the Prophet of Islam had just started preaching his divine message. The rest, as the saying goes, is history.

Last month the official media in Tehran evoked the idea of naming November 7 as Salman Farsi Day as a means of countering the Cyrus the Great Day declared by Iranian nationalists.
However, the official news agency IRNA went even further and suggested that the government declare a Cyrus the Great Day.

Travel agencies specializing in pilgrimage to holy cities in Iraq now include a visit to Salman Farsi shrine as part of their packages.

The current new fascination that many in Iran feel for Salman is part of the movement for “Iranian Islam” which has been gaining ground in the past few years.

Iranian history in the past 15 centuries has often see-sawed between religion and nationalism. The rise of one has often been accompanied with the decline of the other and vice versa.

“Partly because of dissatisfaction with the role of (Shi’ite) clerics in politics, Iran is experiencing a growing anti-religious trend,” says Mehrangiz Bayat, a Tehran researcher.

That analysis is backed by some prominent clerics. For example, Grand Ayatollah Shubeir Zanjani, one of the top clerics in Qom, warned last week that involvement in politics had contributed to the decline of the authority and popularity of the Shi’ite clergy in Iran.

Ultra-nationalists, including pan-Iranists who dream of reviving the Sassanid Empire in one form or another, have seized the popular disaffection with the ruling clergy as template for attacking Islam as “an alien Arab religion imposed on Aryan Iranians by the sword.”

They ignore the fact that the mass of Iranians converted to Islam long after the 80-year-old Arab occupation of parts of Iran had ended.

The concept of the “Iranian” or ”Aryan Islam” has been launched to counter the claim of “alien Islam”.

Former President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was and remains an advocate of the concept. During his tenure he borrowed the Cyrus Cylinder, an artifact on which Cyrus the Great, the founder of the Achaemenes Empire, is supposed to have inscribed the first declaration of human rights, from the British Museum and put it on show in Tehran. The exhibit, guarded by a squadron of soldiers dressed in Achaemenian military uniforms, attracted more than five million visitors.

Ahmadinejad justified his move, which angered some mullahs, on the grounds that Cyrus is supposed to have been mentioned in the Koran ad “zul-qornayn”. (Some scholars believe the reference is to Alexander not to Cyrus!)

According to reports, which cannot be independently verified, the “brain” behind the idea of an “Aryan Islam” is an obscure cleric named Hassan Yaaqubi who, although he has never been seen or heard in public, is supposed to have authored more than 40 books.

Other clerics have tried to promote the idea of an “Aryan Islam” by claiming that Hussein Ibn Ali, son of Ali Ibn Abitaleb and Fatimah, married Bibi Shahrbanu a daughter of the last Sassanian King Yazdegerd, initiating a fusion of Islam and Iran.

“All descendants of Hussein have Iranian blood in their veins,” says Ayatollah Sobhani. “This means an unbreakable human bond exists between Islam and Iran.”

Iranian nationalists, however, reject that idea and claim that Bibi Shahrbanu, whose shrine near Tehran attracts millions of pilgrims every year had been taken a captive and never converted to Islam.

Another cleric, Ayatollah Husseini Qazwini, claims that Iran’s Islam bond was strengthened by the Twelfth Imam, known as the Hidden Mahdi al-Montazar, emerged from his Long Absence in secret and married a girl from Tehran, ensuring the continuation of the “sacred line of Ali” with generation after generation of people with “Iranian blood in their veins.”

However, the traditional Iranian conflict between nationalism and religion seems set to intensify. According to government sources, more and more Iranians now use non-Islamic names for their new-born children. That has led to a decision by the Central Registration Office at the Ministry of Interior last Thursday to toughen rules for using “non-Islamic” names.

Spokesman for the registration office Seyf-Allah Abutorabi told a press conference that the ministry would also help those who wish to replace their non-Islamic names to do so with a minimum of bureaucratic hassle.



Why and How Did al-Kadhimi Return to Baghdad?

Mustafa al-Kadhimi (AP)
Mustafa al-Kadhimi (AP)
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Why and How Did al-Kadhimi Return to Baghdad?

Mustafa al-Kadhimi (AP)
Mustafa al-Kadhimi (AP)

Mustafa al-Kadhimi, the former Prime Minister of Iraq, arrived in Baghdad last Tuesday aboard a private jet. He was greeted by a security detail typically assigned by the government to former heads of state, a scene that would have been unimaginable for an Iraqi politician who faced widespread persecution for two years.

A political faction had wanted al-Kadhimi to leave Baghdad after a drone strike targeted his home in November 2021. He formally left the capital in late 2022 after a broad alliance, including political parties, judicial and governmental institutions, and activists, united to force him out of the public arena and effectively push him into exile.

The first image of al-Kadhimi, shaking hands with a security officer near his home in the Green Zone, offers a powerful snapshot of the changes unfolding in Iraq today. It also hints at the future of the country amidst a Middle East in the midst of unprecedented turmoil.

There are growing speculations surrounding the circumstances of al-Kadhimi’s return, with close associates suggesting it followed a “special invitation” to assist the Coordination Framework alliance in tackling an emerging crisis ahead of a potential second term for Donald Trump.

Critics of both the Framework and al-Kadhimi view this as further evidence of his knack for “saving the deep state.”

Did al-Kadhimi return to aid those who stripped him of the opportunity to remain secure in the public sphere, or is he seeking to help himself and his political agenda at a “golden moment”?

A newly appointed advisor to al-Kadhimi said: “The region is undergoing dangerous transformations that will affect Iraq, and all politicians must contribute to mitigating these risks.”

Meanwhile, politicians within the Coordination Framework commented: “Something will happen within the next two months... something for which the current Framework structure has no antidote.”

This answer offers little clarity about what transpired since the fall of 2022 and how the Coordination Framework and its media apparatus relentlessly targeted al-Kadhimi’s government. Now, he returns, with the political system pinning its hopes on him at a critical juncture.

“Recharging Phones”

Before al-Kadhimi’s return, signs emerged suggesting Baghdad had lost its ability to connect with key US decision-making circles, and to some extent, with its immediate regional surroundings.

Since the Democrats left their posts at the US State Department, the government of Prime Minister Mohamed Shia al-Sudani has struggled to find a single Republican willing to answer the phone.

Reports indicate that a team assigned to revive communications with the Trump administration failed to establish a reliable channel, aside from ceremonial meetings with individuals uninterested in Iraq’s concerns.

The “loss of connection,” a term used by three senior figures in the government and one of the ruling parties, was underscored on November 13, when Sudani attended the Munich Security Conference without securing any meeting with an American official present at the event.

This communication breakdown coincided with a series of “unfriendly” US messages, frequently relayed by Republican Congressman Joe Wilson and US Special Presidential Envoy for Hostage Affairs Adam Boehler.

Iraqi politicians suggest that the “deep state” sees al-Kadhimi as “the man capable of recharging the dead phones,” and potentially rescuing both al-Sudani and the Coordination Framework.

“No one knows if he’s willing to provide this service for free, or if he’ll offer it at any cost,” said a politician who opposed al-Kadhimi during his tenure as prime minister.

The Nightmare of Sanctions

The prospect of a second term for Trump brings a team that holds little affection for leaders in the Coordination Framework, ministers in the government, and officials in the judiciary.

Among them is the new National Security Advisor, Michael Waltz, who has consistently seized opportunities to attack Baghdad, accusing it of “surrendering itself to Tehran.”

In Baghdad, there is a strong belief that the Republican team will not hesitate to act on Iraq once it finishes with Gaza and the war in Ukraine. The least that comes to the minds of Iraqi politicians, many of whom are disliked by Waltz, is that they will one day find their names on a sanctions list.

“Why not try al-Kadhimi’s formula, which gave Washington the confidence of a balance between it and the Iranians?” say many in Shiite parties, anxious about what lies ahead. Their list of speculations starts with sanctions on influential Shiites and ends with the potential for Trump to block the dollar.

Does al-Kadhimi possess these exceptional abilities that would make him a "steel dome," as some politicians in Baghdad envision him, now dreaming of discovering a way to protect them from a possible American storm?

“A Known Figure”

How did the Iraqi government end up in a political deadlock? Prominent politicians in the Coordination Framework offer explanations, often converging on the Syrian file. Iraq struggled to understand the new regional political philosophy and faced difficulties in shifting away from the rules of “Al-Aqsa Flood” to the post-Assad era.

“Since Trump doesn't think much about Iraq,” says David Schenker, the former US Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern Affairs, Washington will not engage in healthy relations with Iraq unless it aligns sufficiently with the changes in its surrounding environment.

Even among circles close to the religious establishment in Najaf, views are emerging that reflect an understanding of Iraq’s lost political position—one that sees the regime as a vital part of the Arab movement on regional issues.

Interestingly, this is all happening without any response from Tehran.

“Not because it has abandoned the Iraqi file, or is unable to influence it,” says a source familiar with the discussions surrounding al-Kadhimi’s return.

The source adds that “Tehran needs to revive Baghdad, which is reaching a dead end in foreign policy and losing vitality in its dealings with the region and the West,” though it remains unclear whether al-Kadhimi’s return is linked to this climate.

Despite a generally positive view of al-Kadhimi's tenure, many criticize al-Sudani for his delayed efforts to adapt to the region’s tumultuous changes. It was difficult to remain in the same place while a seismic shift occurred in Syria and a storm raged in Lebanon.

What role does al-Kadhimi play? Most likely, he seized the “golden opportunity.”

He sees himself as the person capable of quickly adapting to a changing Middle East, with a solid communication channel to the Arab world and experience in balancing regional dynamics.

Iraqi politicians argue that Trump’s era and the new Middle East will impose a new political equation in Baghdad, one that demands a person who can be a “reliable partner” in Arab decision-making circles to be recognized by the Americans.

For this reason, al-Kadhimi has secured his return ticket to the competitive arena—this time, not with slogans of “resistance,” but with a focus on integration into the new order.

Liberal Shiites

Al-Kadhimi’s return was preceded by former Prime Minister Ayad Allawi’s announcement of a new alliance, and by the activities of Adnan al-Zurfi, a former candidate for the premiership whose nomination was opposed by armed factions.

Together, these elements form a growing context for the search for liberal Shiites offering a fresh alternative.

Those who favor this scenario and promote it as “the only solution” argue that Syria, under Ahmed al-Sharaa, Lebanon under Joseph Aoun and Nawaf Salam, are missing Iraq—a country led by liberal Shiites who know how to balance relations between Washington and Tehran without tipping the scale.

Al-Kadhimi found his way back to Baghdad after the alliance that had relentlessly targeted him crumbled.

The Coordination Framework is no longer the same as it was in 2022. Nouri al-Maliki, leader of the State of Law coalition, is searching for ways to rein in al-Sudani, while the armed factions are working hard to carve out new positions that free them from the burden of “uniting the arenas.”

Meanwhile, Qais al-Khazali, leader of Asa'ib Ahl al-Haq, is experimenting with silence—a stance he typically avoids, especially in an election year.

Al-Kadhimi senses that all of these figures now welcome his presence in Baghdad.

They seek from him a “good reputation” for Iraq—one that does not require drastic changes to align with the new dynamics in Syria and Lebanon. The question remains: will he offer this service for free?