Yazd on its Way to Becoming “a Persian Stronghold of Zoroastrianism”

The first two chapters of the first volume provide a brief overview of Muslim theologians’ opinions on dhimmi (under protection) groups and the process of Islamization in Iran from the Arab/Muslim conquest to the time of Ilkhanids. These introductory chapters do not offer any significant new information or interpretations. Chapter one, titled “Islam and the Protected People” (p. 7–43), discusses the legal status of Zoroastrians debated among early Muslim jurists and their classification as dhimmi people (p. 7–11). The author further explores the legal status of dhimmis in Islamic lands, highlighting their subordinate position to Muslims. While dhimmis were granted certain basic rights, they also faced numerous restrictions, the most burdensome of which was the imposition of a poll-tax (jeziya) on them (p. 11–30). The chapter concludes with a brief overview of the diverse treatment of non-Muslims by different caliphs, which takes into account historical and geographical variations (p. 30–43).

The second chapter, titled “Islam in Iran: An Overview of the Social and Cultural Life of Zoroastrians” (p. 45–71), aims to explain the gradual decline in Zoroastrian numbers and political relevance from the Arab conquests to Mongol rule. Drawing on Jamsheed K. Choksy's model of the relationship between Muslims and Zoroastrians in early Islamic times, T. identifies three stages in this process: (1) military conquests during the early caliphs, (2) the infiltration of Islam into urban areas of the former Sasanian Empire under the Umayyads, and (3) the expansion of Islam into Iranian villages during the Abbasid period (p. 46). According to T., during the military stage, the collaboration between Muslims and two groups of Zoroastrian elites, namely the landowners from Khorasan (dehqāns) and the priests from Pars, was essential to mitigating the threat of potential rebellions (p. 47–52). The gradual expansion of Islam into Iranian villages during the Abbasid period elicited two reactions from Zoroastrians: retreat to remote rural areas far from centers of power and wealth, and migration to the western coasts of India, a group of Zoroastrians who later became known as Parsis (p. 57–66). T. suggests that while Shia Iranian dynasties such as the Buyids showed tolerance towards non-Muslims (p. 62–66), later Sunni Turkish rulers displayed bigotry (p. 66–69). Consequently, from the beginning of the latter's rule in the eleventh century, the number of Zoroastrians, even in Pars (their most significant religious center), dramatically declined.

All of these outlines appear necessary for explaining the enigma: the growing importance of the Yazdi plain to Zoroastrianism during the late medieval period. This religious importance is evidenced by the fact that early Parsi messengers directed their religious questions to Zoroastrian priests in Turkabad and Sharifabad, two villages located in the northwestern corner of the plain. Chapter three (“Yazd and the Early Information on its Zoroastrians,” p. 73–111) investigates the early traces of Zoroastrians in Yazd and the subsequent emergence of the region as one of the most significant ecclesiastical centers of Zoroastrianism.

The most influential and elaborate explanation for the high concentration of Zoroastrian priests in Turkabad and Sharifabad comes from Mary Boyce. T. engages with her hypothesis, which shows both similarities and differences with his own. It is worth summarizing her explanation here: drawing on the oral traditions of Yazdi Zoroastrians, Boyce suggests that at an unknown time (but certainly before 1478, when the exchange of letters between Parsis and Iranian Zoroastrians, known as Persian Revāyāt, began), the dastur dasturān, the successor to the highest religious authority in the Sasanian empire, sought refuge in the remote village of Turkabad when life became dangerous and oppressive in Pars, his traditional residence.Footnote ⁵ Concurrently, the accompanying priests relocated two of the most sacred fires of the Sasanian era, ādur farrobay and ādur anāhid, to the neighboring village of Sharifabad. Subsequently, these two villages emerged as significant religious centers of Iranian Zoroastrianism, housing both “the acknowledged head of the Irani community” and the most sacred fires of the Zoroastrians.Footnote ⁶

Despite the drama and originality of this reconstruction, there are several problematic assumptions to consider. One such assumption is the depiction of the Sasanian institution of the head of the priesthood (dastur dasturān or mowbedān mowbed) as continuously present even after the fall of the Sasanians. However, the existence of this office in early medieval Pars requires solid proof rather than being taken for granted. Additionally, the early letters in the collection of the Persian Revāyāt do not provide evidence of the presence of this authority within the community. These letters were signed by a group of priests from Turkabad and Sharifabad without any indication of hierarchy.Footnote ⁷

Another issue lies in Boyce's conceptualization of the formation and development of religious offices as independent from potential intervention by Islamic states. As a result, she does not comment on the fate of the office of hudēnān pēšōbay (Leader of Those of the Good Religion), a religious institution likely established under the Abbasids with its probable seat in Baghdad.Footnote ⁸ The presence of this religious authority in Baghdad challenges the commonly held belief that Pars was the sole center of Zoroastrian leadership during the early Islamic period. References in historical sources also indicate the authority of priests in regions such as Sistan, Khorasan, Rayy, Isfahan, and others. Therefore, it is plausible that some Yazdi priests may have originated from other Zoroastrian settlements, assuming there was any migration of priests to Yazd.Footnote ⁹

Another problematic assumption in Boyce's theory is the idea of the Yazdi plain's isolation and insignificance during medieval and even modern times. A closer examination of the evidence reveals the opposite. Indeed, medieval Yazd held political significance as the seat of ruling dynasties like the Kakuyids, Atabaks of Yazd, and Muzaffarids. Furthermore, Marco Polo's brief description of the region leaves an impression of its importance as a trading center.Footnote ¹⁰

Insofar as one can follow T.'s opinion on this subject, which is dispersed throughout several chapters, he appears to distinguish between Yazd's religious and demographic significance (p. 152).Footnote ¹¹ In other words, Yazd became a refuge for priests from Pars and Khorasan long before it became the largest center of Zoroastrians in the mid-sixteenth century. T. suggests that migrations to Yazd occurred gradually in two main waves (p. 85). The first wave took place during the eleventh and twelfth centuries when mounting social pressures on Zoroastrians in Pars led a group of priests to bring a flame of ādur farrobay to the remote villages of the Yazdi plain (p. 84–5). Furthermore, before 1478, Khorasani priests joined their counterparts in Yazd, fleeing from unrest caused by Timur's invasions (p. 85, 132). T. does not provide an explanation for why these priests chose to leave Khorasan while the laity decided to remain, despite the Zoroastrian priesthood's financial dependence on the laity. According to T., the aggregation of priests from Khorasan and Pars elevated the religious status of the Yazdi villages before 1478 (p. 132). The second wave of migration to Yazd occurred in the sixteenth century (see below). These migrants, primarily lay individuals, came from Khorasan when the situation there worsened due to Uzbek incursions.Footnote ¹² It was only then that Yazd and its surrounding areas became the largest Zoroastrian settlement in Iran (p. 134).

This reconstruction is noteworthy because it does not assume a central religious authority from Pars responsible for the migration. T. consistently refers to “priests” in the plural form rather than a single “high priest.” He also accounts for mentions of sizable Zoroastrian communities in Sistan and Khorasan found in some later Persian Revāyāt.Footnote ¹³ However, his hypothesis still relies on the perception of the Yazdi plain as a remote region, distant from centers of power and wealth. Furthermore, similar to Boyce's model, the migrations of priests to Yazd occurred when pressures in Pars and Khorasan intensified. If we consider the more recent mass migrations of Zoroastrians to Bombay and Tehran as parallels, it is possible that the migrations of both laity and priests to medieval Yazd (and Kerman) were motivated by the better opportunities these regions offered.

Yazdi Zoroastrians during the Safavid Period

By the advent of the Safavids, our knowledge of the history of Iranian Zoroastrians significantly expands. The interactions between Indian and Iranian Zoroastrians become more prominent, as evidenced by the Persian Revāyāt, which provide valuable insight into the histories of both communities. The messengers of these letters were primarily lay Parsis or Iranians, often engaged in commercial activities, who traveled between the two regions. In addition to these letters, European travelers in the seventeenth century began taking a keen interest in Persian society, particularly the Zoroastrians of Isfahan, Yazd, and Kerman, considering them remnants of ancient Persians.

Based on the information from the Persian Revāyāt, T. observes a shift in the geographic concentration of Iranian Zoroastrians during the sixteenth century, with Yazd gaining prominence (p. 132–4). A letter dated to 1511 indicates that Yazd was the third region, after Sistan and Khorasan, with the largest Zoroastrian population.Footnote ¹⁴ Another letter, Kamdin Shapur's Revāyat from 1558, according to T., places Yazd and its villages in the first position (p. 134).Footnote ¹⁵ However, it is important to note that this latter letter does not explicitly state the demographic prominence of Yazd. It mainly lists the names of priests from Turkabad (8 names), Sharifabad (10 names), Khorasan (6 names), Sistan (3 names), and Kerman (4 names). It also mentions some lay Khorasani Zoroastrians (behdins) residing in Kerman (21 names in total), while the number of Khorasani laity residing in Yazd is provided as 3000 persons. This passage suggests that a significant number of Khorasani Zoroastrians might have settled in both Yazd and Kerman during the sixteenth century.Footnote ¹⁶ The reasons behind this “second wave of migration” (following the initial migrations from Pars) are attributed to instability in Khorasan due to Uzbek incursions and Mashhad's growing prestige as a religious center of Shia Iran (p. 134).

In terms of the livelihood of Zoroastrians during the Safavid period, T. asserts that while Armenians played a prominent role in the commercial world of Safavid Iran, Zoroastrians were primarily engaged in agriculture and weaving (p. 137). This observation is supported by contemporary Western accounts and Zoroastrian normative texts, which emphasize the Zoroastrians’ reverence for agriculture and disdain for commerce.Footnote ¹⁷ Although it is true that Zoroastrians of this period were predominantly farmers and gardeners, certain passages in both Persian Revāyāt and European accounts suggest the presence of merchants within the Yazdi and Kermani communities.Footnote ¹⁸

One long-standing assumption about Zoroastrians’ social status in the Safavid era is their complete marginalization and lack of political and economic significance. However, local histories of Safavid Yazd and Kerman mention the existence of an office of the “darugha of Zoroastrians,” a Muslim official appointed by the state. This official was responsible for overseeing the bureaucratic affairs of Zoroastrian communities and their interactions with the court, primarily through the collection of the poll tax, among other duties.Footnote ¹⁹ T. acknowledges the initiative of Shah ‘Abbas (r.1587–1629) in establishing this institution, highlighting the shah's interest in centralizing control over the Zoroastrian community (p. 141). While T. recognizes the relative social, financial, and political significance of Zoroastrians in this context, he still adheres to conventional belief in explaining the forced migration of Yazdi and Kermani Zoroastrians to the new Safavid capital, Isfahan, in the early seventeenth century (p. 142–3). Drawing a parallel with the Armenian case, T. rationalizes the Armenian displacement by emphasizing their importance in the commercial economy and their role in dealings with Europeans. However, T. wonders about the motives behind Shah ‘Abbas's policy towards Zoroastrians, suggesting the shah may have sought to present himself as a tolerant ruler to Europeans by showcasing a capital where religious minorities live in peace and security (p. 143). It is unclear, though, why the king would have been concerned with European perceptions of himself and his rule. A more plausible explanation is that Shah ‘Abbas recognized the potential services offered by Zoroastrians, particularly in the weaving industry, and saw value in settling some of them in Isfahan. Additionally, by doing so, he also upheld the royal tradition of having representatives from various religious groups in his main residence.

Further in his chapter titled “Zoroastrians in Safavid Yazd” (p. 113–184), T. provides a description of the content of each letter in the Persian Revāyāt from the establishment of the Safavids to the end of Shah ‘Abbas's rule (p. 146–157). However, there are a few misinterpretations in this attempt. One notable example is the description of the Revāyat of Esfandiyar Sohrab, dated around 1520, where T. mistakenly suggests that Esfandiyar had commercial trips to Hebron, which is likely a misreading for Jarun, the old name for Hormuz Island. Hormuz Island served as an important trading hub for West Indian merchants during the late medieval and early modern times.Footnote ²⁰

The following section of the chapter deals with the history of Zoroastrians during the later Safavid period, spanning until the ascension of the final Safavid ruler, Shah Soltan Hossein, to the throne in 1694 (p. 158–169). During this period, religious minorities, including Zoroastrians, faced mounting pressures from both the state and local authorities. These difficulties are considered a precursor to the even more arduous times that followed under the rule of Shah Sultan Hossein and the subsequent challenges of the eighteenth century.

In 1699, Shah Soltan Hossein issued a decree compelling all Zoroastrians in Isfahan to convert to Islam. Martin Gaudereau, a French missionary residing in the city at the time, provides a vivid account of this tragic event. Despite their desperate pleas for intervention from Europeans present in Isfahan,Footnote ²¹ the decree resulted in the forced circumcision of Zoroastrian men and the destruction of their fire temple. In its place, a mosque and religious school were constructed, with a Muslim clergyman assigned to instruct the newly converted Muslims in Islamic law.Footnote ²² Contrary to T.'s viewpoint (p. 173), it seems that this decree did not lead to the same measures taken in Kerman and Yazd, where Zoroastrians remained relatively safe. The same French observer informs us that shortly before the outbreak of violence, concerned residents of Isfahan relocated the sacred fire and its priest to Kerman, where the larger population of Zoroastrians ensured their peaceful existence.Footnote ²³

Increasing intolerance towards religious minorities during the late Safavid period is traditionally seen as one of the many factors contributing to the Safavids’ decline in 1722.Footnote ²⁴ T. also argues that the Safavids’ bigotry, alongside the Afghans’ protection of religious minorities, encouraged Iranian Zoroastrians to collaborate extensively with the Afghans (p. 174–78). He cites contemporary sources claiming the crucial role of a commander named Nasrallah Khan Sistani, supposedly a Zoroastrian, in the capture of Isfahan (p. 178–181). While T. should be commended for recognizing the agency of Zoroastrians beyond mere victimhood,Footnote ²⁵ it seems he may have exaggerated the extent of their assistance. Evidence accumulated from sources demonstrates both the occasional Zoroastrian-Afghan collaboration and instances of massacre or forced participation. Regarding Nasrallah Khan's Zoroastrian identity, it is prudent to exercise caution, as it is possible that his identity was forged by the sources or their informants. The hypothesis put forth by T., which suggests that this wholehearted collaboration be seen as the reason for the exacerbation of Zoroastrians’ situation in Yazd (and Iran) in the upcoming centuries (p. 174), is highly unlikely. He argues that their perceived treachery against a Shia state remained ingrained in the collective memory of enraged Shia Muslims. However, there is no concrete evidence to support the idea that later pressures on Zoroastrians were directly linked to this alleged wholehearted assistance to the Afghans.

Yazdi Zoroastrians during the Eighteenth Century

The number of notable European accounts on Zoroastrians sharply decreased after the fall of the Safavids, only to resurface during the nineteenth century. One significant factor behind this decline may be the political unrest and civil wars affecting the former Safavid territories. Despite the significant decrease in Western accounts, there is still evidence of continued correspondence throughout a substantial portion of the eighteenth century between a minority group of Parsis known as Qadīmīs and Iranian Zoroastrians.

Throughout his next chapter, entitled “Zoroastrians from the Fall of Safavids to the Rise of Qajars” (p. 185–206), T. primarily relies on a versified Persian autobiography of Mollā Fīrūz ben Kāvūs, entitled Dīnkherad and composed in 1786. The poem extensively recounts the adventurous journey of this Parsi priest and his father, starting in 1768, as they traveled to Zand Iran to seek answers from Iranians on the calendar and other religious matters. Drawing from this source, T. describes the dire circumstances of the Zoroastrians of Kerman and Isfahan (p. 185–88).Footnote ²⁶

While Mollā Fīrūz's portrayal highlights the challenging situation of the Kermani community, it is worth noting that they were still able to respond to a series of inquiries from the Qadīmī Parsis in 1768.Footnote ²⁷ T. connects the vague reference to the massacre of Kermanis in Dinkherad to the time of Nader Shah, suggesting it was the price Zoroastrians had to pay for their “collaboration” with Afghans (p. 187–88).Footnote ²⁸

However, a nineteenth-century French traveler named Ferdinand Méchin presents a contrasting perspective on Nader Shah and the Afghans; the perspective of later generations of Yazdi Zoroastrians. Méchin recounts a period of respite for the Zoroastrians during Nader's rule. Reflecting the positive attitude of nineteenth-century Zoroastrians towards Nader Shah, Méchin reports their participation in the famous siege of Qandahar, where a unit of Zoroastrians played a crucial role. Due to growing despair during the prolonged siege, Nader decided to retreat to his own territory. However, the Zoroastrian unit persisted and launched a surprise assault, successfully capturing the city and delivering it to Nader. In response, Nader granted them significant privileges. When Afghans once again invaded Iran, they retaliated by massacring twelve thousand Zoroastrian families from Kerman.Footnote ²⁹

When it comes to the Yazdi Zoroastrians, Mollā Fīrūz's autobiography provides important information. The community was led by a wealthy lay man named Mollā Bahrām Ardeshir Khormashahi, who held the position of kalāntar. At Mollā Fīrūz's arrival in Yazd, Mollā Bahram was in Shiraz, likely attending to the community's administrative matters at Karim Khan Zand's court (p. 200). Additionally, Mollā Fīrūz offers valuable insight into how Yazdi priests responded to Parsi inquiries (p. 200). The responses provided to Mollā Fīrūz's father form the Itọther Revāyat (Guj. “Seventy-eight Revāyāt”), the final letter from Iran.

T. understandably omits discussing the last five Revāyāt of the eighteenth century, which contain valuable information about the social and religious life of Iranian Zoroastrians. This neglect must be attributed to the limited accessibility of these later Revāyāt, for which T. should not be held responsible.Footnote ³⁰ However, the significance of this omission becomes evident in his attempt to explain the supposed forced migration of the head of the Yazdi priesthood from Turkabad to the city of Yazd (p. 204–6). Mary Boyce proposed the following explanation to account for the decline of Turkabad as a priestly center:

Broadly speaking, T. supports this reconstruction, but offers a more precise date and reason for the removal. Drawing on implicit references in Mollā Fīrūz's autobiography, T. suggests that this forced migration likely took place during the governorship of Muhammad Taghi Khan Bafqi, in the early years of the Zand dynasty (p. 206). Additionally, T. proposes that the reason for the removal could have been Mohammad Taghi Khan's suspicion of the Zoroastrians due to their previous assistance to the Afghans (p. 206). Furthermore, he argues that the forced conversion of Turkabadi Zoroastrians happened around the same time rather than a century later, as suggested by Boyce (p. 205–206).Footnote ³²

Like Boyce, T. asserts that the last mention of Turkabad and its dastur dasturān is found in a Revāyat dated to 1681 (p. 205). However, the present writer does not share the same level of confidence in this claim, as there is evidence suggesting the mention of Turkabadi priests in later Revāyāt. An unpublished letter written in 1719 by Dastur Jamasp Asa of Navsari was addressed to the priests in Yazd, Kerman, and Turkabad. In the response to this letter, which is also unpublished and dated 1721, the signatures of two priests with the epithet of Turkabadi can be found.Footnote ³³ This suggests that the last mention of Turkabad and its priests can be extended to 1721. Additionally, following Boyce's view, T. assumes that this migration must have been instigated by Muslim authorities in order to control the priests and Zoroastrian community (p. 205). However, this assumption unnecessarily excludes the possibility of Zoroastrian initiative in this movement.Footnote ³⁴

Parsis played a crucial role in the modernizing changes that Iranian Zoroastrians, and even Muslim Iranians, experienced from the mid-nineteenth century onwards (see below). As a result, the next chapter (“A Sketch of the Developments in India during the Nineteenth Century and Its Impact on the Parsis,” p. 207–234) deviates from the main subject. It surveys the modernization processes undertaken during the British Raj and explores the socioeconomic prosperity and cultural transformations among Parsis in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Yazdi Zoroastrians in the First Half of the Nineteenth Century

The situation of Iranian Zoroastrians is often depicted as the opposite of that of their fellow believers in India. This era is commonly described as a time when Iranian Zoroastrian fortunes were at their lowest ebb and they were on the brink of extinction, if not for the revitalizing efforts of the Parsis in the latter half of the nineteenth century.Footnote ³⁵ This being the outline, there has been a lack of detailed studies on Iranian Zoroastrians, and the sources pertaining to them, during this period. Therefore, it is commendable that T. devotes an entire chapter to the early Qajar period (“Structure and Social/Cultural Life of Yazdi Zoroastrians from the Establishment of the Qajars to the Arrival of Manekji in Iran,” p. 235–94).

The first section of the chapter (p. 237–260) examines the social life of Yazdi Zoroastrians from the dawn of the Qajar dynasty to the death of Mohammad Shah in 1848. Primarily drawing on Manekji's reports, T. discusses their population, social structure, and various aspects of everyday life (p. 237–257). While Manekji's information serves as a valuable source for reconstructing the community's social life in the early nineteenth century, there are also contemporary European accounts on Yazd and its Zoroastrians that T. could have utilized. These accounts reflect the growing European interest in Iran and its Zoroastrian population. Particularly overlooked are the travelogues of several French travelers who visited Iran in the first two decades of the nineteenth century. These travelogues demonstrate increasing French interest in Iran, driven by Napoleonic France's search for allies in the Middle East amidst conflicts with Russia and England. Simultaneously, Qajar Persia was in dire need of military aid and training due to its own ongoing wars with Russia. Among the relevant French travelogues, the accounts of Hilarion Truilhier, Adrien Dupré, and Gaspard Drouville are particularly noteworthy. Here I briefly explore the underexamined accounts of Truilhier and Dupré to emphasize their importance for the history of Yazdi Zoroastrians.Footnote ³⁶

The image of Yazd and its surroundings portrayed by these two travelers is of a region that is far from isolated. They highlight its strategic importance in both domestic and foreign trade within Iran.Footnote ³⁷ Truilhier, who was part of an official delegation visiting Yazd in 1807, emphasizes the significance of cotton and silk production to the city's economy.Footnote ³⁸ He specifically mentions the involvement of Zoroastrians in the spinning of cotton and silk and the production of various fabrics. According to Truilhier's estimation, their population numbered around thirty thousand individuals scattered throughout the villages of Yazd. Interestingly, contrary to expectation, he states that the Yazdi community recognized the head of the priests in Kerman as their dastur dasturān.Footnote ³⁹

Dupré, serving as translator for Camille Trézel, visited Yazd in 1809. His account provides a much more detailed description of Yazd and its Zoroastrians than Truilhier's. The estimated number of Zoroastrians, predominantly residing in the villages surrounding Yazd, was around eight thousand individuals.Footnote ⁴⁰ Dupré proceeded to list these villages, some of which still have a Zoroastrian population: Cham, Mobarake, Hosseini, Kenao (i.e., Kesnavieh), Nassir Abad, Khoramshah, Posht-e Khan Ali, Abrishon, Kheyr Abad, Taft, Mahriz Abad, Abshahi, Mohammad Abad, Chehr Abad, and Ahmad Abad.Footnote ⁴¹

Dupré also noted that Zoroastrian attire was similar to that of other Iranians, with the distinction that their leader wore a turban tied around his hat. This leader, likely a lay figure, was appointed by the governor of Yazd.Footnote ⁴² The Zoroastrians engaged in agriculture, petty trade, and various crafts. Dupré observed that their condition had deteriorated compared to the peace and prosperity they enjoyed in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Due to violence and emigration, the population had dwindled, with many Zoroastrians relocating to the cities of Kerman and Yazd.Footnote ⁴³ In contrast to the prosperous Parsis, Dupré characterized the Yazdis as oppressed and impoverished. In addition to the six thousand tumans they had to pay to the governor, they endured numerous other forms of mistreatment.Footnote ⁴⁴

Of particular interest, Dupré recounted a visit by their delegation to the Zoroastrians of Kesnavieh village, where the Frenchmen were warmly welcomed with eagerness and affection. During their stay in Yazd, the community leader regularly visited the delegation, symbolizing his friendship by sending fruits and good quality wine each day.Footnote ⁴⁵ Dupré, curious to learn more about the main fire temple near Yazd mentioned by Jean Chardin, noted that the temple––situated on a mountain eighteen leagues from Yazd––now lay in ruins. It was once the residence of the high priest, who, along with many others, had migrated to India during Dupré's time.Footnote ⁴⁶

T. compensates for his lack of engagement with these French accounts by focusing on an unpublished Zoroastrian poem in Persian called masʿale-ye dı̄n (Question of the Religion) (p. 257–60). This poem is one of the very few literary works produced by Zoroastrians themselves during the early Qajar period, providing insight into their situation. It tells of the encounter between Prince Mohammad Vali Mirza, the Qajar governor of Yazd from 1821 to 1828, and a Zoroastrian priest named Dastur Kaykhosro. The poem was composed in 1837 by poet Khodabakhsh Jamasb Yazdi.Footnote ⁴⁷

The story begins when a group of fanatical Muslims slander the Zoroastrians in an audience with the governor. To verify the claims, the governor, aided by Muslim clerics, prepares thirty-three questions for Zoroastrian leaders on their beliefs and practices. The stakes are high, as the governor threatens to forcibly convert all Zoroastrians to Islam if they fail to convince him. However, a council of Zoroastrian priests successfully responds to the questions, leading the governor to abandon his conversion attempt. While the story provides historical information, it also represents a late example of an understudied genre of medieval Zoroastrian stories, similar to those found in the collection of Persian Revāyāt.Footnote ⁴⁸ These stories often follow a recurring pattern: a Muslim ruler hears slander against Zoroastrians by ill-wishers and is tempted to either convert or kill them all, but the distressed Zoroastrians thwart the plot by persuading the ruler of their truthfulness and exposing the falsehood of their accusers.

The second section of chapter seven deals with the social-cultural life of Yazdi Zoroastrians on the eve of Manekji's arrival in 1854 (p. 261–94), which corresponds to the early years of Nasir al-Din Shah's long rule (r. 1848–1896). After the death of his father, the political-religious situation in Yazd became unstable. There were reports of resurgent insurgencies led by unruly individuals in Yazd, resulting in the increased harassment of Zoroastrians.Footnote ⁴⁹ Concurrently, Yazd and its villages became a favored destination for Babi missionaries seeking to spread the teachings of Ali Mohammad Shirazi, the founder of the Babi movement. After briefly recounting these incidents (p. 261), T. proceeds to discuss the reformation efforts of Amir Kabir, the young king's chief minister, regarding religious minorities (p. 267–75).Footnote ⁵⁰ He suggests that Amir Kabir held a special regard for Zoroastrians, possibly stemming from the religion's Iranian roots (p. 268). In this context, T. cites a series of official letters reflecting Amir Kabir and government officials’ interest in managing the affairs of Yazdi Zoroastrians (p. 267–75). These documents indicate that the central authorities were both engaged with Zoroastrian elites and concerned with ensuring justice for them. The letters mention two prominent Zoroastrian officials, the mobadān mobad and the kalāntar, who represented the community's religious and non-religious leadership respectively. The government assigned fixed salaries for these positions, which were deducted from the poll-tax collected from Zoroastrians by the governor of Yazd.Footnote ⁵¹ Influenced by the “heroic aura” surrounding Amir Kabir in Iranian historiography, T. contends that he had noble intentions to improve the conditions of marginalized Zoroastrians. However, these aspirations were hindered by the turmoil in Yazd and the central government's inability to enforce its policies on local authorities (p. 271, 275).Footnote ⁵²

According to T., Yazdi Zoroastrians suffered from not only various Muslim pressures but also internal backwardness prior to Mankeji's arrival (p. 275–6). One indication of this perceived backwardness was the supposed selfishness and ignorance of Yazdi priests, as well as the general lack of religious knowledge and internal unity within the community (p. 276–84). T. relies on the accounts of Manekji, Niels L. Westergaard, and Abraham V.W. Jackson to support his claim about priestly ignorance (p. 278–81).Footnote ⁵³ European travelers have a long tradition of accusing Zoroastrians of ignorance, dating back to at least the seventeenth century.Footnote ⁵⁴ The basis for these judgments by European scholars such as Westergaard, Jackson, and others before and after them lies in their limited definition of religious knowledge and their disappointment with contemporary Zoroastrian priests’ inability to meet their expectations. Priests were expected to have a thorough understanding of the literal meaning of sacred texts, possess a large collection of ancient manuscripts, and present the doctrines of their religion in a concise and coherent manner. Manekji's occasional negative opinion of the Iranian community and its priesthood stems partly from the influence of these Western ideas on Parsi Zoroastrianism in the nineteenth century and partly from the historical divergences between Iranian and Parsi practices and beliefs.

Manekji Limji Hataria and the “Emancipation” of Iranian Zoroastrians

The beginning of prosperity for Iranian Zoroastrians and their liberation from persecution is credited to the activities of one Parsi man: Manekji Limji Hataria. It would be pointless to deny the crucial role he and the wealthy Parsis behind him played in the modern history of the Iranian community. His efforts, followed by those of his successors, brought about significant structural changes within Iranian Zoroastrianism, both in terms of its internal governance and its relationship with Muslim Iranians. Consequently, T. dedicates the final three chapters of the first volume to him and his activities. However, a problem arises when attempting to lump together the previous 1300 years and describe it as a constant state of persecution and marginalization. This reconstruction overshadows the agency of Iranian Zoroastrians themselves in negotiating and interacting with Muslim officials and the laity throughout the centuries.Footnote ⁵⁵ It also contradicts the undeniable fact of their survival, albeit in significantly reduced numbers, until Manekji's arrival.

After the last correspondence between Qadīmī Parsis and Yazdi Zoroastrians in 1773, interaction between the two communities did not come to a halt. Many Iranian Zoroastrians traveled or migrated to Bombay and Gujarat for various reasons. Some wealthy Parsis engaged in business with Iranian merchants and even supported the construction of temples in Yazd and its surrounding villages.Footnote ⁵⁶

Alongside deep concerns over the escalating troubles faced by their co-religionists in Iran and encouragement from British officials (p. 297), the prospect of expanding their political and economic interests motivated some wealthy Parsis to institutionalize their philanthropic activities. Initially, they directed efforts towards Iranian migrants in Bombay and, later, towards Zoroastrians in Iran.Footnote ⁵⁷ This led to the establishment of an organization called the Society for the Amelioration of the Conditions of the Zoroastrians in Persia (known among Iranians as Anjoman-e Akāber-e Parsiyan, The Noble Society of the Parsis) in 1853 (for the statute, see p. 300–10). Manekji was sent as an emissary to this institution, tasked with reporting on the condition of Iranians and alleviating their socio-economic difficulties using all available means. Prior to this mission, Manekji had already gained extensive travel and negotiation experience as a merchant (p. 311–14). He had also served as a financial assistant in British army expeditions to Afghanistan. Manekji arrived in Iran by sea in March 1854, making his first stop in Bushehr (p. 315). In Shiraz, he encountered a group of fellow travelers who accompanied him to Yazd, including the German orientalist Julius H. Petermann.Footnote ⁵⁸ Manekji spent most of his remaining life in Iran, primarily in Tehran, where he oversaw the campaign to improve the lives of Iranian Zoroastrians and represented them in the Qajar court. In a section of chapter eight titled “Manekji in Iran” (p. 295–405), T. examines Manekji's extensive network, which encompassed not only state officials and foreign diplomats, but also secular intellectuals (such as Mirza Fath-Ali Akhundzadeh), Muslim theologians, Sufi leaders, and the founder of the emerging Baha'i faith, Mirza Hossein Ali Nouri (p. 337–49).

T. categorizes Manekji's numerous activities into two groups: those focused on the internal reform of Zoroastrian communities (p. 349–87) and those aimed at enhancing their position within the wider Iranian society (p. 387–405). Regarding innovations in the community's internal leadership, Manekji was responsible for establishing governing institutions known as panchayats in Kerman and Yazd, which were clearly influenced by the Parsi panchayats. He personally appointed members to these institutions, drawing from both priests and laity. According to T., these new institutions’ primary role was to communicate news from Kerman and Yazd to Manekji in Tehran and govern the internal affairs of the communities, both secular and religious (p. 349–58).

Manekji was also actively involved in the repair and construction of religious structures. In this regard, he built two new dakhmes, one in Yazd and another in Sharifabad. However, Yazdi priests saw these structures, built according to Parsi standards, as foreign and thus discouraged people from using them (p. 358–66). T. appropriately, though exceptionally, attributes this friction to the differing practices of Parsis and Iranians regarding dakhmes, rather than the alleged ignorance of the Iranian priesthood, as claimed by Manekji (p. 362–3). In addition to dakhmes, Manekji dedicated a portion of his efforts to repairing and constructing shrines and fire temples. Despite Zoroastrianism traditionally being a non-congregational religion, Manekji restored the fire temple in Yazd with the aim of transforming it into a place of Zoroastrian congregation (p. 367–68).Footnote ⁵⁹

Manekji strongly criticized certain religious practices in Iran, particularly that of sacrificing cows at the shrine of Banu Pars near Yazd (p. 373–6). Having settled in Gujarat, the Parsis had ceased the practice of cow sacrifice, likely out of respect for Hindu beliefs. Given his Parsi background, Manekji would have found the mass sacrifice of cows deeply disturbing and made every effort to abolish this custom. While the Yazdis agreed to discontinue the specific practice of cow sacrifice at the Banu Pars shrine, they continued to sacrifice sheep and goats at this and other shrines.Footnote ⁶⁰

Another aspect of Manekji's activities was focused on improving the status of Zoroastrians in Iranian society and alleviating the many restrictive measures imposed on them. In pursuit of this goal, he sought to establish connections with Shia religious leaders and government officials (p. 393–405). The jeziya tax was seen as the most significant obstacle to the advancement of Zoroastrians, and its abolition in 1882, through a farmān issued by Nasir al-Din Shah, was the culmination of gradual lobbying and negotiation between all the parties concerned. This achievement can be attributed to Manekji's efforts and the Parsis who supported him. Recognizing its importance, T. dedicates a separate chapter to this process, entitled “Manekji and the Abolition of Jeziya” (p. 407–90), in which he presents the correspondence between Manekji, the Society for the Amelioration, Iranian central and provincial authorities, British ambassadors, and other European diplomats in Iran and abroad.

As is well-known, Manekji's activities were not universally accepted by all his contemporaries in Yazd. As mentioned in the case of the new dakhmes, he occasionally encountered resistance, particularly from some Yazdi priests (p. 494–95). T. suggests that such priests opposed Manekji out of fear of losing their dominant position in the community to the new secular elites he supported. This explanation assumes that priests had absolute control over Zoroastrian communities before Manekji's time. However, available evidence on pre-modern Zoroastrianism indicates a distinction, with occasional overlap, between religious and non-religious leadership. While priests were consulted on religious matters, the political, social, and economic leadership of the community rested with the affluent lay families.Footnote ⁶¹ Considering this structure, Yazdi priests’ opposition to Manekji and his panchayats can be seen as a reaction to his interference in the religious domain traditionally under their control.

Establishment of the Naseri Association of Yazdi Zoroastrians

While Manekji did initiate the establishment of panchayats in Yazd and Kerman, the outcome was not very successful. It was his successor, the second agent of the Society for the Amelioration, Kaykhosroji Khan-Saheb, who revived and transformed this governing body into a more effective institution in 1892.Footnote ⁶² The newly named Naseri associations, in order to gain the goodwill of Nasir al-Din Shah, took on the task of Zoroastrian internal governance and representation to the outside world. In the first chapter of the second volume, titled “Kaykhosroji Khan-Saheb and the Establishment of Naseri Associations of Zoroastrians” (p. 7–32), T. presents the full statute of the Yazd anjoman (p. 11–19). These anjomans in Yazd, Kerman, and Tehran were a new institutional development for Iranian Zoroastrians, as they required written proceedings of meetings and the appointment of members by Parsi agents. The associations took control of all community affairs, both religious and secular. Although a prominent priest named Shahriyar held the position of head of the anjoman, the responsibility for answering religious questions fell on a lay scholar educated in Bombay, Master Khodabakhsh Bahram, who was a teacher at the Kaykhosravi school in Yazd. It was expected that difficulties would arise challenging this new institution's absolute authority. Similar to the case of Manekji, a group of Yazdi priests were the main opponents of the Naseri anjoman and Kaykhosroji, as they felt threatened by the anjoman's intervention in the religious sphere (p. 23–32). T., in his analysis of these conflicts, seems to favor the associations’ perspective, portraying the Yazdi priesthood as backward and driven by a thirst for power and personal gain.

The second chapter, entitled “Activities of Naseri Association and the Social Life of Zoroastrians until the Constitutional Revolution” (p. 33–63), primarily focuses on the minutes of the Yazd association's yearly activities throughout the final years of Nasir al-Din Shah's reign and that of his son, Mozaffar al-Din Shah (r. 1896–1907). Although, in other parts of his work, T. occasionally discusses passages from Abraham V.W Jackson's travelogue and the memoir of Napier Malcolm––a British missionary whose catalog of Zoroastrian sufferings in Qajar Iran was often quoted by later scholars––one would hope for a more critical assessment of these two sources and their significance in reconstructing the social history of Yazdi Zoroastrians on the eve of the Constitutional Revolution.Footnote ⁶³

Bahaism and Zoroastrians

The next chapter, “Zoroastrians and the Question of Conversion” (p. 65–113), delves into the topic of Zoroastrians converting to Islam, Christianity, and the emerging Bahai faith in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. While treatment of the first two is rather brief, T. devotes closer attention to the interesting phenomenon of a relatively large number of Zoroastrian “converts” to Bahaism (p. 71–111).Footnote ⁶⁴ Despite its historical connection to Shia Islam, Bahaism consciously separated itself in its early stages, claiming to possess a new universal message and fulfill the prophecies of major religions. Consequently, it managed to appeal to both Muslims and non-Muslims in Iran, especially Jews and Zoroastrians. The earliest instances of Yazdi Zoroastrians converting to Bahaism occurred in the 1880s, with the peak of conversions taking place between 1890 and 1920.Footnote ⁶⁵ Scholars have expressed surprise at the relative success of the Bahai faith among Zoroastrians, offering various explanations. However, it is important to acknowledge that the study of interactions between Bahaism and Zoroastrianism remains heavily influenced by ideological perspectives, as many researchers who explore this subject are themselves adherents of the Bahai faith and often reproduce the Bahai self-perception of progressiveness and compatibility with modern life. In contrast, Zoroastrianism is frequently portrayed as an “old” religion incapable of adapting to modernity, with its priests blamed for its perceived backwardness. A vivid example of such an approach is found in the following statement from Susan Stiles Maneck, a scholar of both Bahaism and Zoroastrianism:

The problem with T.'s treatment of this subject is precisely the opposite of celebrating Bahaism. His analysis is clearly polemical against the latter, as he perceives Bahaism in its early stages as a parasitic and syncretic religion (p. 78). When referring to Bahaism, T. frequently employs the problematic term ferqeh (sect) and portrays Bahai missionaries as opportunists (p. 73–83) who allegedly fabricated a Sasanian lineage for Baha'u'llah and wrote letters in pure Persian to appeal to Zoroastrian readers (p. 92–94). Furthermore, T. asserts that Bahais misinterpreted Zoroastrian eschatological figures in order to present Baha'u'llah as one of the future saviors (p. 84–91). According to T., the kindness and sympathy shown by Bahai leaders to Zoroastrians is merely evidence of their opportunistic strategy to win Zoroastrian hearts and souls (p. 94–96).

The Constitutional Revolution and Iranian Zoroastrians

The Constitutional Revolution, which took place roughly from 1906 to 1911, was one of the most important and earliest episodes of twentieth-century Iran. This event, it is often argued, had significant implications for religious minorities, particularly Zoroastrians, as they were given a political voice and nearly equal rights for the first time since the Muslim/Arab conquests. The Constitutional Revolution is also considered the first major political event in which Iranian Zoroastrians actively participated following the emancipatory efforts of Manekji, who paved the way for their acquisition of both financial and social capital.Footnote ⁶⁷

After a series of public protests involving diverse social, religious, and political groups, Mozaffar al-Din Shah issued a decree in August 1906 forming a national assembly (majlis). That same year, following the decree, the ailing king signed an early version of the constitution, which was later revised in 1907 under the title “Supplementary Constitutional Law.” The compilation of the constitution marked a significant milestone in Iranian history, as it limited the arbitrary power of the king and curtailed the authority of the Muslim clergy. Merchants, including some Zoroastrians, were active participants in these events, wielding influence through their financial support of the constitutionalists. Additionally, prominent Parsis in Bombay and London, along with their agent in Iran, Ardeshirji Reporter, also supported the cause of the constitution.

As a hybrid legal document resulting from complex negotiations between secular and religious forces in Iranian society, the Supplementary Law exhibits seemingly contradictory elements across its various articles. On the one hand, it declares Twelver Shi'ism as the state religion of the Persian Empire, granting supervisory powers to multiple clergy members in the legislative process. On the other hand, Article 8 establishes equal rights before the law for all Iranian citizens, a provision fiercely debated between constitutionalists and their opponents. This article, advocated for by influential figures such as prominent Zoroastrians, sparked intense controversy. In his extensive chapter titled “Constitutionalism and Zoroastrians” (p. 115–216), T. presents these controversies and explores the Shia clergies’ divergent opinions regarding Article 8, as it directly impacted the legal standing of Zoroastrians. He examines the perspectives of key figures such as Sheikh Fazlallah Nuri, a staunch opponent of equal rights for religious minorities, and Sheikh Ismail Mahallati, a cleric residing in Najaf who supported the constitution (p. 119–25).

As previously mentioned, several notable Zoroastrians, both Iranian and Parsi, wholeheartedly supported the movement, providing financial contributions and even shedding their blood. Among these individuals were Arbab Jamshid Jamshidian, members of the Jahanian family and their associates, Ardeshirji Reporter, and members of the newly revitalized Zoroastrian Association in Tehran, such as Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrokh (p. 128–136). Farhang Mehr, writing in 1970, provided three main reasons for Zoroastrians’ extensive involvement in these events: the anti-despotic nature of Zoroastrianism, the love Zoroastrians had for their motherland, and the pressures imposed by the Qajars, which Zoroastrians hoped to alleviate through support for the constitution.Footnote ⁶⁸

However, one may question whether these religious, nationalist, and intra-communal ideals were the sole motives for Zoroastrian participation. T. presents his own reasons for their involvement, including the opening of Iranian society to Western concepts of freedom and equality, which de-emphasized religion as a marker of identity. Additionally, Zoroastrians’ status as remnants of Iran's glorious past, financial assistance from Parsis, and their efforts in mobilizing the Iranian Zoroastrian community played significant roles. Moreover, the emergence of new cultural and economic elites within the Zoroastrian community also contributed to their participation (p. 126–127).

Despite ambiguities around the representation of religious minorities in the first parliament, a seat was allocated to Arbab Jamshidian, a wealthy Yazdi merchant and banker residing in Tehran.Footnote ⁶⁹ It should be noted, however, that he entered the majlis as a representative of the merchant class (tojjārs) rather than serving as the official representative of the Zoroastrian community. This point is not emphasized enough by T. in his discussion of the subject (p. 139–42). The electoral law of the first majlis was based on representation by class and occupation, rather than religion.Footnote ⁷⁰ It was only during the convening of the second majlis in 1909 that the electoral law was reformed, and seats were allocated to specific religious minorities.Footnote ⁷¹ Arbab Kaykhosrow Shahrokh was elected as representative of the Zoroastrians, a position he held until his suspicious death in 1939.

Significant episodes involving Zoroastrians during this period included the murders of two prominent figures: Parviz Shahjahan, a notable merchant in Yazd and one of the founders of the Jahanian company, in February 1907 (p. 142–60); and Arbab Fereydon Khosrow Ahrestani, a representative of the same company in Tehran, in January 1908 (p. 160–81). Both individuals were highly active in financing the revolutionaries and even in smuggling guns to their camps. When recounting the events following Parviz's murder, T. presents the reports of the British consul in Yazd and the newspapers’ coverage of the murder. He also mentions the unsuccessful appeals the Yazd anjoman made to Zoroastrian officials in Tehran, government officials, and the Yazd governor to apprehend the murderer and those behind the crime (p. 144–159). However, T. overlooks the role of Parsis in Bombay and London in exerting pressure on Iranian authorities to bring the murderer to justice.Footnote ⁷²

The murder of Parviz's agent, Fereydon Khosrow, in Tehran a year later attracted even more attention, becoming a political test case in the implementation of the newly ratified Article 8. Khosrow's risky actions, providing the revolutionaries with guns and money, ultimately cost him his life (p. 160–61). His death, carried out by thugs associated with Mohammad Ali Shah (r. 1907–1909), sparked outrage among constitutionalists and the public, as evident in the burgeoning medium of newspapers, and there was unprecedented demand that the Muslim perpetrators be punished. Despite religious reservations, the wrongdoers were eventually sentenced to lashes and imprisonment, but not execution (p. 175–9). Given the prevailing standards of the time, this verdict was considered a measure of success, albeit one that enraged Muslim conservatives.

The new legal and political structures introduced from Tehran did not seamlessly integrate into the daily lives of Zoroastrians in Yazd and Kerman, where the majority of Iranian Zoroastrians resided. As a result, these communities and their leaders had to employ both old and new strategies to safeguard themselves against challenging circumstances. Throughout the Constitutional Revolution, Yazd and its surrounding villages experienced political upheaval, frequent changes in governance, and social unrest, which persisted until Reza Shah's centralization efforts (p. 184–204). It is often assumed that this atmosphere of uncertainty posed the greatest challenge to Zoroastrians, as evidenced by a collection of telegraphs and letters sent by the Yazd anjoman to Zoroastrian authorities in Tehran (Ardeshirji and Shahrokh). In these correspondences, they recount mob attacks and frequently request central authority intervention on their behalf (p. 195–204).

At the onset of and during the First World War, the social, economic, and political situation in Iran, and in Yazd specifically, deteriorated. Drawing on unpublished family documents owned by Kiyumars Vafadar, a member of the anjoman in Yazd, T. presents a bleak portrayal of the city (p. 212–15). These documents paint a grim picture of the profound impact of famine on Zoroastrians and the wider Iranian population. As a possible solution, many individuals considered temporary or permanent migration to Bombay in search of better opportunities.

The Sunset of the Parsi Nobles

From the outbreak of the First World War in 1914 to the demise of the Qajars in 1925, the internal situation of Yazdi Zoroastrians was characterized by various conflicts (p. 217). As previously mentioned, one consequence of the Constitutional Revolution was the allocation of a Zoroastrian seat in the parliament. This resulted in two representatives for Iranian Zoroastrians: the Zoroastrian deputy in the majlis and the agent of the Society for Amelioration, which was Ardeshirji Reporter at the time. This duality created confusion and discord around the community's leadership (p. 204–12); an uncertainty that also affected the Zoroastrian association in Yazd. Some members, referring to the first anjoman statute, considered Ardeshirji to be their representative, while others preferred Kaykhosrow Shahrokh. Drawing mainly on Kiyumars Vafadar's personal letters, who sided with Ardeshirji, T. discusses the rivalries within the anjoman and Yazdi community (p. 223). According to T., the murder of Master Khodabakhsh in 1917, a leading scholar of Zoroastrianism and prominent member of the anjoman, was the tragic outcome of these internal conflicts (p. 292–303).Footnote ⁷³

T. explores the intricacies of these tensions in chapter five (“Intensification of Tensions in Naseri Anjoman: Murder of Master Khodabakhsh,” p. 217–303). He begins by discussing Yazdi priests’ protests against the lenient approach of certain anjoman lay members—such as Master Khodabakhsh, Ostad Javanmard, Dinyar Kalantar, and others—regarding Bahai Zoroastrians: Zoroastrians who believed in both Bahaism and Zoroastrianism (p. 217–223). This disagreement resulted in serious friction. The priests refused to perform marriage and death ceremonies for Bahai Zoroastrians, but such were conducted in their absence and under the guidance of knowledgeable members of the laity. The tolerant stance of some anjoman lay members, who supported the inclusion of Bahai Zoroastrians, angered both the priests and some community members. As a result, the latter requested Shahrokh's permission to hold a new election in the hopes of gaining control over the Yazd anjoman (p. 232). On the other hand, some anjoman lay leaders, mainly teachers at Zoroastrian schools, argued the Parsi agent should have final say in the selection of anjoman members.

T. interprets the establishment of the Kankāsh-e Mowbedān-e Yazd (Council of the Priests of Yazd) in 1915 as a response to the conflict between priests and certain members of the Yazd association. The council can be seen as the priests’ attempt to mobilize themselves in light of these tensions (p. 255–58). However, this new institution's stated objective was to address internal priestly matters and govern the community's religious life.Footnote ⁷⁴ Since then, this council of priests has replaced the office of the high priest.

In the meantime, another action Ardeshirji and most association members supported further agitated the Yazdi priests. This involved the compilation and circulation of a set of family laws primarily inspired by Parsi family laws, but with minor adjustments to align with Iranian traditions (p. 258–67). The compilation was attributed to Dastur Khodāyār, the brother of the chief priest of Yazd, Dastur Nāmdār son of Shahriyār. Through this early attempt, Ardeshirji and anjoman members aimed to establish a written law applicable to all Zoroastrians, replacing the oral decisions traditionally issued by priests for each individual case.Footnote ⁷⁵ Shortly after his initial approval, however, Dastur Nāmdār rejected the applicability of this compilation. His change of mind was seen as the result of Shahrokh's instigations while in Tehran and, due to this reversal, Ardeshirji removed Nāmdār from his position as the grand dastur of Yazd.

Ardeshirji's drastic measure in this case, coupled with his intervention in the Yazd anjoman's internal affairs by appointing certain members instead of allowing local people to elect them (p. 267), further deepened the rift between Ardeshirji and Shahrokh's supporters in Yazd. These escalating tensions led Ardeshirji to close the association's doors in 1917, with the assistance of the British vice-consul in Yazd (p. 285–292). As the Parsi agent, Ardeshirji considered the anjoman to be under his authority while, on the other hand, most of Shahrokh's supporters were advocating for elections. Eventually, with the backing of the central government and Shahrokh (p. 290–1), the majority faction succeeded in holding a new election, resulting in the anjoman's reopening that same year (p. 304–307). Despite the British vice-consul's initial hesitation, newly elected members were allowed access to the documents of the dissolved anjoman (p. 307–311).

These events contributed to a decline in prestige, in the eyes of the Yazdi community, for the Society for Amelioration and its agents (p. 330–346). Gradually, their influence became limited to supervising the Zoroastrian schools they funded. However, this did not signify a complete rupture in the connection between Iranians and Parsis, but rather a redefinition. Two newly established organizations based in Bombay—the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman (established in 1918, p. 314–320) and the Iran League (established in 1922)—replaced the old institution and played a pivotal role in the new phase of relations between Parsis and Iran in the early Pahlavi period. While still continuing the Society's agenda of supporting Iranian Zoroastrians through philanthropic activities, these two institutions also aspired to do more by directly engaging in the broader project of nationalism in Iran and serving as intermediaries in promoting economic and cultural ties between Iran and British India.Footnote ⁷⁶

Reza Shah, Iranian Nationalism, and the Social Condition of Yazdi Zoroastrians

In his story Dāstān-e Jāvid (The Story of Javid, published in 1980), Esma‘il Fasih, a prominent twentieth-century Iranian novelist, subtly portrayed the emancipatory effect of Reza Shah's rise to power (r. 1925–1941) on the life of his young Zoroastrian protagonist, Javid. The political transformation brought about by Reza Shah enabled Javid to escape the torment and suffering he endured in the home of a corrupt Qajar prince in Tehran, ultimately allowing Javid to return to his peaceful homeland of Yazd. The notion of the Pahlavi era being emancipatory for Zoroastrians is not solely the creation of fictional literature; it finds support in scholarly works and is even championed by some Zoroastrians themselves.Footnote ⁷⁷

The Pahlavi period, which emphasized glorifying Iran's ancient past and considered Zoroastrianism to be an integral part of that heritage, is often depicted as a period of respite and renewed hopes for Zoroastrians, albeit a relatively short-lived one. However, it is important to note that this assessment does not uniformly characterize the history of Iranian Zoroastrianism under the Pahlavis. Scholars such as Mary Boyce, despite acknowledging the general prosperity and relative equality experienced by Zoroastrians during Pahlavi rule, view the era's modernizing changes as detrimental to the integrity of the community.Footnote ⁷⁸ According to this perspective, changes posed risks to the conservative state of Zoroastrianism preserved for centuries in the secluded villages of Yazd and Kerman.Footnote ⁷⁹ Thus, secular modernity, which became more pronounced under Pahlavi governance, was seen as both a serious challenge and blessing.Footnote ⁸⁰ While the positive portrayal of the Pahlavi period may occasionally suffer from exaggeration, presenting it as an extraordinary chapter in the history of Zoroastrians since the fall of the Sasanians, the ambivalent assessment of this period reflects a recognition of irreparable losses, with purportedly essential elements of Zoroastrian life disappearing forever.Footnote ⁸¹

Avoiding all these discussions, T. begins his third volume with a cursory survey of the growing nationalism of interwar Iran and the consequences of this state policy on the elevation of Zoroastrians’ social position within Iranian society (“Nationalism during the Rule of Reza Shah and the Elevation in the Prestige of Zoroastrians,” p. 7–57). In the same chapter, T. shifts his attention to the revived relationship between Parsis and Iran under Reza Shah (p. 27–51). According to T., Parsi prominence in India and their activities in Iran was a factor in elevating Zoroastrians’ social status (p. 27–28). This time, the Iran League and the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman of Bombay were the main intermediaries, with relations primarily centered on Parsi engagement in Iran's cultural and economic affairs, even resurrecting the idea of a “return” to Iran. In the cultural sphere, Parsis continued building schools in Yazd, Kerman, and Tehran that accommodated both Zoroastrian and other students (p. 29–32). These Parsi institutions also sponsored the publication and circulation of books on ancient Iran and Zoroastrianism in Iran (p. 32).Footnote ⁸²

In the economic domain, however, Parsi attempts are often characterized as failures. Parsi investment plans covered several sectors, including the Iranian oil industry, commercial agriculture, the trans-Iranian railway, and the textile industry. Regarding the oil industry, T. asserts that Parsis appealed for jobs with the oil company several times, citing a letter from the Iran League to Reza Shah as evidence (p. 38–42). However, the letter primarily concerns a request to facilitate Parsi repatriation to Iran rather than a specific demand for employment in the oil industry. T. suggests that Reza Shah rejected these appeals due to his suspicion of a British plot behind such Parsi insistence on accessing this sensitive sector (p. 42).

In terms of industrialized agriculture, the Parsis directed their attention to Khuzestan province, known for its abundant water resources and strategic location.Footnote ⁸³ T. presents some documents demonstrating early Yazdi Zoroastrian efforts to acquire land and establish a trade company in Khuzestan in 1927 (p. 42–44). Then, he discusses Parsi attempts to settle there, citing a letter from the Iranian Zoroastrian Anjoman in Bombay to the Central Department of Agriculture in Iran in 1937 (p. 45–46). However, this letter primarily indicates the Parsi intention to assist drought-stricken Yazdi Zoroastrian peasants settling in Khuzestan, rather than establishing a Parsi colony. Like other sectors, T. asserts that the outcome was unsuccessful. To explain this setback, he again points to Reza Shah's supposed anxiety over the formation of a colony of British subjects in Khuzestan (p. 47). However, the Parsis’ failure to realize their economic plans in Iran should also be seen through the lens of their own hesitation, rather than solely the result of Iranian state suspicions.Footnote ⁸⁴

An important legal development occurred with the passage of a law in 1933, which granted Zoroastrians (alongside other recognized religious minorities) the right to apply their own religious regulations in matters of marriage, inheritance, and adoption (pp. 51-56). This law became necessary when the state introduced a new legal structure that encompassed a civil law applicable to all Iranians, regardless of their religion. Despite its secular claims, the final civil law was still influenced by Islamic law, particularly in family matters (p. 51). For religious minority deputies like Shahrokh, this meant the imposition of Islamic laws on them. In response, the state did not enforce its personal status codes on non-Muslims, but instead allowed religious minorities to adhere to their own laws in their internal affairs. However, the state now required written regulations to be endorsed in order to apply them in state courts. The responsibility of producing this legal document for Zoroastrians fell upon Shahrokh himself. In his memoir, he describes the process leading to the compilation of the document.Footnote ⁸⁵ After intense discussions with state officials regarding certain articles, the Zoroastrian law code was finally endorsed.Footnote ⁸⁶

In the following chapter titled “Social Life of Zoroastrians in Yazd during the Rule of Reza Shah” (pp. 59-93), T. focuses once again on the Zoroastrian community in Yazd. The chapter is organized thematically, with relevant documents presented under each theme. The first theme explores the migration attempts of Zoroastrians from drought-stricken Yazd during the late Qajar period. T. cites documents that highlight the challenges faced by Zoroastrians attempting to migrate or travel to Bombay, as the late Qajar state imposed stricter border controls and restrictions on overseas migrations (pp. 61-65). As an alternative, many Zoroastrians migrated to Yazd city, while the wealthier individuals chose to settle in Tehran. The next section discusses a form of social discrimination faced by Yazdi Zoroastrians, which was the prohibition of riding donkeys and mules on the streets. T. cites correspondences between the Yazd anjoman and relevant authorities in their efforts to have this restriction lifted, a few years prior to Reza Shah's ascension to the throne. These letters reveal the reluctance of Yazd governors and the Muslim population to acknowledge this right (pp. 65-79). The abolition of distinct dress codes for Zoroastrians was a less challenging achievement. Dress reforms were implemented from the center, forcefully applied, and effectively blurred the differences between Zoroastrians and Muslims in their attire, without requiring any active effort from the Zoroastrians themselves (pp. 79-80).

The subsequent section delves into the problems faced by Yazdi Zoroastrians when seeking resolution for their internal disputes through Muslim courts prior to the ratification of the personal status law. The documents demonstrate that occasional litigation between Zoroastrian parties was resolved by Muslim judges applying Islamic laws. To avoid such situations, members of the Yazd anjoman often reminded Shahrokh about the necessity of a codified and officially approved Zoroastrian family law (pp. 81-86). The limits of the perceived “emancipatory” developments in the early Pahlavi period are revealed through documents that shed light on the continuing abduction of young Zoroastrian girls, their forced conversion, and marriage to Muslim men (pp. 86-92).

Second Pahlavi, Modernization, Urbanization, and Tehran as the New Center

The rule of Mohammad Reza Shah (r. 1941-1979) is marked by a series of social, cultural, and economic changes in Iranian society, which inevitably had an impact on Yazdi Zoroastrians as well. Chapter three, titled “Second Pahlavi and the Expansion of Modernity in Iran” (pp. 95-130), serves as an introductory chapter that outlines one of the main phenomena of this period: urbanization and the decline of village life, particularly from the 1950s and 1960s onwards. For Zoroastrians, this transition resulted in a transformation from predominantly rural communities in Yazd and Kerman villages at the beginning of the Shah's rule (reliant on agriculture, trade, and weaving) to urban middle-class citizens residing in major cities across Iran during the later decades of his reign. T. commences this chapter with a section on the overall condition of Iranian villages prior to the land reforms of the 1960s and the prevailing unequal relationships between landlords and peasants (pp. 97-104). The land reform aimed to disrupt these imbalanced dynamics and succeeded in diminishing the power of landlords, although it did not fully accomplish all its intended objectives. While the initial purpose was to revitalize rural areas, it ultimately led to the abandonment of villages and mass migration of young villagers to urban centers (pp. 106-111). By focusing on Yazd, T. provides insights into what rural life looked like in the Yazdi plain before the reforms and how modern urban elements gradually permeated the city of Yazd (pp. 111-129).

Chapter four, entitled “Structure and Social Questions of Zoroastrians during the Second Pahlavi” (p. 131–196), examines specific social issues Iranian Zoroastrians faced during this period. Among the various topics, T. focuses on two key questions: the migration of Zoroastrians from rural villages to urban areas and the decline in the Zoroastrian priesthood's prestige.Footnote ⁸⁷ The chapter begins by presenting demographic information on the distribution of Zoroastrians in the Yazdi plain based on various census data from the 1960s and 1970s collected by local anjomans and Michael Fischer, an American anthropologist who conducted fieldwork in Yazd from 1970 to 1972 (p. 131–143). These statistics clearly indicate a consistent increase in the rate of migration from Yazdi villages, with the rapidly growing city of Tehran as the most appealing destination. Starting from the 1960s, Tehran surpassed Yazd and its villages as the area with the largest number of Zoroastrians in Iran.

After presenting the demographic statistics, T. turns to the topic of Zoroastrian migration to urban centers (p. 144–180). Drawing on reports published by the Tehran-based community magazine Hukht, he describes the dire conditions of Yazdi Zoroastrian villagers prior to land reforms (p. 144–153). T. also discusses various “fruitless” initiatives, primarily organized by the Tehran Zoroastrian Association, aimed at alleviating the villagers’ economic hardships (p. 158–172). One well-documented case is the revival of earlier plans to settle a group of Yazdi farmers in Khuzestan in the 1950s (p. 163–169).Footnote ⁸⁸ Additionally, T. dedicates a section to describing the changes in the Zoroastrian district of Yazd city, which was depopulated of former residents and repopulated by villagers (p. 175–179). While he frequently mentions villager migrations to Yazd and Tehran, T. does not explore migration to other urban centers in Iran, such as Isfahan, Shiraz, Ahvaz, Zahedan, etc. The case of Ahvaz is occasionally mentioned throughout the third volume but presented as a failed Parsi-Iranian Zoroastrian plan, despite the settlement of a group of mainly Yazdi Zoroastrians there since the early Pahlavi period.Footnote ⁸⁹

The advent of modernity is widely regarded as the primary cause for the scarcity of Zoroastrian priests and decline in their social status in Iran, a position traditionally inherited by male members of priestly families. T. also supports this viewpoint (p. 180–184), but does not provide precise demographic information on Yazdi priests. Additionally, one would expect more evidence showcasing Iranian Zoroastrians’ criticism of the institution during this period.

The final three chapters primarily focus on the Yazd association's internal affairs and the election procedures for the Zoroastrian deputy during the reign of the second Pahlavi shah. It is worth noting that T. astutely recognizes the broader social changes affecting Yazdi Zoroastrians through developments within the anjoman and parliamentary elections. Chapter five, titled “Anjoman of Zoroastrians of Yazd during the Chairmanship of Sohrab Kianian” (p. 197–255), provides a comprehensive overview of the anjoman's history until the death of Sohrab Kianian in 1958. As a prominent lay landlord and community leader, Kianian played a pivotal role in compiling new anjoman regulations in the post-war era and ensuring its legal registration with the state registry office. A careful examination of the new rules (presented in full by T. on p. 199–203) reveals the institution's responsibilities as the custodian of community funds, religious sites, and philanthropic activities. Another significant development during Kianian's tenure was the establishment and legal registration of Zoroastrian anjomans in the villages and districts surrounding Yazd (p. 204). These institutions enjoyed a semi-autonomous status vis-à-vis the city's main anjoman. Detailed information is also provided on the elections of Zoroastrian deputies held in Yazd until 1958 (p. 226–53). These elections were overseen by a Yazdi Zoroastrian supervisory council, typically led by Sohrab Kianian himself, and consistently resulted in the election of Arbab Rostam Giv, a Yazdi merchant and philanthropist residing in Tehran, without any significant challengers.

The next chapter, entitled “Anjoman of Zoroastrians of Yazd during the Chairmanship of Fereydon Kianian” (p. 257–299), follows a similar structure, presenting the proceedings of various elections of anjoman members until 1969 (p. 258–283). This is followed by documentation of the elections of Zoroastrian deputies until 1972 (p. 284–290). Following Sohrab Kianian's passing, members confirmed one of his sons, Fereydon, as the association's head. During the association's forty-ninth session in 1964, the third national congress of Zoroastrians took place in Yazd. T. dedicates a substantial section to this event, providing a detailed account of the meetings (p. 261–276). The organization of these nationwide congresses was a new phenomenon that began in the early 1960s, with the first and second rounds being held in Tehran and Kerman respectively. During these congresses, the agendas put forward by various Zoroastrian institutions reflected the socio-religious issues prevalent within the Iranian Zoroastrian community at the time. Following Rostam Giv's decision not to nominate himself for parliamentary elections in 1961, Esfandiyar Yeganegi—a man credited with introducing modern irrigation methods to Iran—was the proposed candidate, with the clear support of the Tehran anjoman. Like his predecessors, Yeganegi was elected for successive terms until his death in September 1972, with three years remaining in his tenure.

According to T., a disagreement arose between community leaders in Tehran around the nomination of Esfandiyar Yeganegi's successor (p. 297–299). As opposed to previous instances of a single candidate being unanimously proposed by the Tehran anjoman, members were divided between Bozarjemehr Mehr and Fereydon Varjavand this time. T. provides an overview of Farhang Mehr's political career as the influential head of the Tehran anjoman and brother of Bozarjemehr. The election is contextualized within the Tehran anjoman's increasing integration into Iran's broader political climate (p. 290–296). Bozarjemehr, supported by his brother, represented the emerging urban middle-class Zoroastrians, while Varjavand was considered aligned with traditional community elites (p. 307).

The election was competitive, but Mehr ultimately stood as the winner. Like in Tehran, he also gained the upper hand in Yazd. In this election, T. observes signs of the increasing tension within the Yazdi community between traditional elites from Mahale (the Zoroastrian district in Yazd), led by the Kianian family (supporting Varjavand), and the more recent city-dwellers (supporting Mehr) (p. 307–312). The culmination of this tension occurred in the same year in the establishment and official registration of a new organization, The Central Anjoman of Zoroastrians of Yazd Province, primarily led by the new urban class (p. 312). This coincided with Yazd's administrative promotion to a provincial capital. As in previous instances, T. includes the new institution's entire statute in the final chapter (“The Central Anjoman of Zoroastrians of Yazd Province: the Supremacy of Village-Born City Dwellers,” p. 301–341). The remaining portion of the chapter presents documents and correspondences showing the efforts of the leaders of this new association to surpass the old association (p. 325–341). A brief conclusion summarizes arguments already elaborated on in the preceding chapters of the volumes(p. 343–346).

Tashakori's meticulous attention to detail throughout the three volumes is commendable, but comes at a cost. The book is filled with unnecessary details and digressions. As a result, the reader may occasionally wonder what the book's main argument is. While the work offers valuable insights and suggestions, some arguments lack rigorous source criticism and there are moments where deeper engagement with primary and secondary sources is needed. However, the work's strength lies in its presentation of unpublished documents, particularly concerning modern Zoroastrians. This feature places it on par with other notable Persian works on the history of later Zoroastrians, such as Touraj Amini's Documents Pertaining to the Contemporary Zoroastrians of Iran (1380/2001) and Jamshid Sorush Sorushian's The History of Kermani Zoroastrians during These Few Centuries (1370/1991). For this reason alone, it is a welcome addition to the collection of anyone interested in the later history of Zoroastrianism in Iran.