This article focuses on Arthur Christensen's meeting with the Iranian intelligentsia in 1929. Arthur Christensen's L'Iran sous les Sassanides had a tremendous influence on the Iranian nationalism at the beginning of the twentieth century. However, Christensen's encounter with Iranian intellectuals in 1929 shows that from the very beginning they had much in common, and furthermore that Christensen was influenced by Iranian nationalism.

Azerbaijani national identity emerged in post-Persian Russian-ruled East Caucasia at the end of the nineteenth century, and was finally forged during the early Soviet period. After the fiasco of the short-lived independence period of 1918–20, Azerbaijan became Soviet. Soviet power then instrumentalized Azerbaijan for political and ideological penetration into Iran by galvanizing local separatist movements. Azerbaijani Iranology was shaped within Soviet oriental studies and put into service of Azerbaijani nation-building. Exiled Iranian communists found asylum in Baku, joined local research institutions, wrote the first Persian academic and school textbooks, and contributed to the translation of classic Persian poetry into Azerbaijani. Soviet Azerbaijani Iranologists were sent as translators to the Soviet missions to Iran and Afghanistan. After Azerbaijan regained independence in 1991, its Iranological infrastructure was represented by several departments at the National Academy of Sciences and the Iranian Studies Program at Baku State University. While the number of Persian classes at schools during the last three decades diminished, a new generation of post-Soviet Iranologists—those who studied in Iran—emerged. While Soviet Azerbaijani Iranologists never created a solid bilingual dictionary of Persian, several Persian–Azerbaijani and Azerbaijani–Persian dictionaries were published in the 2010s. Post-Soviet Azerbaijani Iranology is still trying to find its place within humanities in the transitional nation.

This article examines the life and works of Hossein Kazemzadeh Iranshahr, focusing on the evolution of his thought from an ardent nationalist to a cosmopolitan mystic. It offers a detailed account of the spiritual transformation that Iranshahr went through around 1920 in Europe—a topic that has never been addressed in existing scholarship. It contextualizes his esoteric views, especially the influence of Theosophy on his thought in the context of the so-called “Occult Revival” in Weimar Germany. Finally, it discusses how Iranshahr's emerging spiritual worldview impacted his intellectual outlook, especially his views on religion, nationalism, civilization, and race.

This paper presents some of the preliminary findings of the research on the history and religion of the Ahl-e Ḥaqq in nineteenth century Iran. It seeks to shed light on the Qajar-era statesmen's efforts to learn more about and thus better understand the otherwise enigmatic community, their origins, identities, beliefs, and practices as well as political loyalties. In particular, the article discusses arguably the most important text pertaining to the group and produced in late nineteenth century Iran, addresses the question of its authorship and sources, seeks to contextualize its composition and finally offers its full translation. Lastly, the paper offers a partial review of the most important Persian-language research and scholarship on the subject, points to several hitherto untapped primary sources for the study of the Ahl-e Ḥaqq, and also discusses the major actors and trends essential to understanding of and further research on the history of the community during the period in question and beyond.

This paper sheds light on Ismāʿīl al-Qasṛī, his scholarly and pietist networks, Sufi genealogy, and its later transmission. Other than his debated role in Najm al-Dīn Kubrā's initiation into Sufism, very little is known on this understudied yet significant Sufi from Khuzistan. The paper argues that Ismāʿīl al-Qasṛī and his western Iranian Sufi genealogy was the primary, rather than secondary, initiatory chain claimed by Kubrā, his associates, and the later heritage. Besides, al-Qasṛī's robe continued to be transmitted beyond Kubrā's Sufi chain, and received multiple names in the absence of a prominent, eponymous master to claim it. Also introducing the figures in al-Qasṛī's, and hence Kubrā's, spiritual genealogy, the paper discovers the overlooked yet decisive impact of Iranian masters, most notably the famous pietist of the Fars area, Abū Isḥāq al-Kāzarūnī, on Sufism in the later tradition.

Zāl is the embodiment of the heroic culture which shapes and determines the conduct of the Shāhnāmeh heroes from Manūchihr through Rustam's death. For Zāl to attain that level of moral authority, the poem semiotically endows him with innate wisdom symbolized by his white hair at birth. By the end of the story, when he is still a relatively young man, he has gained the authority to change the ruling dynasty by choosing and crowning kings at will (e.g. his crowning of Zav and Kayqubād). Zāl's story is thus a tale of transformation that seamlessly fits into the overall narrative of the Shāhnāmeh. It helps the poem's narrative make the transition from the age of ancient kings in whom heroism, royal authority, and magical potency are combined, to the era of a different line of rulers who govern by royal authority alone. This process moves in two parallel lines: the transfer of the magical wisdom of the primordial kings to the person of a sage who functions as the embodiment of sagacity and prudence, and the transfer of their heroic aspect to a great warrior who serves as the country's “chief hero,” its jahān pahlawān. With the exception of Kaykhosraw, whose character has very strong supernatural and religious dimensions, every important legendary king after Manūchihr has a sage on whose advice he depends (e.g. Zav, Kayqubād and Kaykāvūs have Zāl, Gushtāsp has Jāmāsp, and Alexander has Aristotle). The king also has a warrior who holds the office of the jahān pahlawān (Kaykāvūs and Kaykhusraw have Rustam, Luhrāsp has Zarēr, and Gushtāsp has Isfandiyār).

This article examines how Zeyā al-Din Barani may have imagined that contemporary audiences would consume his Tārikh-e Firuz Shāhi. Would it only be read visually or also read aloud (directed at the ear rather than the eye), and thus be received aurally, or would it even be performed in front of a larger audience? The plot and protagonists of Barani's story on Moʿezz al-Din Keyqobād present a tragedy that develops around a sultan doomed to fail. An examination of the set-up of Barani's narrative reveals that it contains numerous textual devices that would enable a storyteller to perform the story, using the text as a kind of tumār. As tragedies are written for the stage, not the study, these features of the text indicate that matters of orality, which are crucial for many genres of premodern Persianate courtly literature, are also relevant to the Tārikh-e Firuz Shāhi.

In 1989, the acclaimed Iranian novelist Moniru Ravanipur (b. 1954) sent ripples through her homeland with a book that spoke out about the plight of a remote village, fighting for survival in the face of the country's rapid modernization. Ahl-egharq, or The Drowned, tells the story of the author's birthplace, Jofreh, on the Persian Gulf; an isolated village where life is shaped by myth-telling, rituals, and a reliance on the sea. The 2019 publication of Ravanipur's novel in English translation gives occasion to critically reflect on its place in the canon of modern Persian fiction.

The criminal laws of the Islamic Republic of Iran are organized around the right of the victim. In cases of murder and other intentional injuries, the judiciary recognizes the victim's next of kin or the victim as a private plaintiff with the right to retribution (qisas). The injured party confronts the perpetrator in court and decides whether to demand retaliation or forgo it in lieu of a monetary compensation (diya). If they choose qisas, they are legally bound to witness the punishment. In cases of forbearance, the maximum sentence that the state can levy for murder is three to ten years. While the rates of capital punishment in Iran continue to be among the highest in the world, the majority of murder cases culminate in forgiveness. Why would an aggrieved party forgive when the law gives them the right to retribution?