Excerpts from two translations of “Two Centuries of Silence” by Iranian Scholar Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub on the 200 Years of Mass Genocide of Iran under the Islamic Conquest and Colonization: The Most Forgotten Genocide in World History

For context on why Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub gradually had to silence himself after the 1979 Iranian Revolution:

“Zarrinkoub may have had other reasons for changing his mind about the role of Arabs and Islam in Iranian history. He was certainly aware of what happened to Parviz Nātel Khānlari, the promoter of his first book and one of his professors, in the early days of the Islamic Revolution. Because of his friendship with Mohammad Reza’s Minister of the Royal Court Asadollah Alam (1919-78), Khānlari was stripped of all his posts and imprisoned.23 Manṣur Rastegār Fasā’i’, a biographer of Khānlari, believes Motahhari, who was aware of Khānlari’s services to Persian linguistics, letters, and music, would have intervened on his behalf had he not been assassinated. After spending a harrowing hundred days in prison, Khānlari was released, but he was deprived of his pension and required to pay back the salary he earned as a senator. Despite efforts by expatriate groups to help Khānlari leave Iran, he chose to remain in his homeland and died there in 1990, in poverty and severe pain.24 The change in Zarrinkoub’s attitude was reported in an article published by the site Rahyāfteh25 called “To What Extent are the Matters in the Book Two Centuries of Silence by Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub Correct?” The article asserts that, having come of age during a time when cultural policy in Iran was to attack Islam and to sanctify ancient Iran (ḥamleh beh Eslām va taqdis-e Irān-e bāstān), Zarrinkoub was among those “pretend-chauvinist intellectuals” (rowshan-fekrān-e showvinist-māb) who showed great courage in openly admitting the error of their ways. To have a public intellectual of Zarrinkoub’s stature regret writing Two Centuries of Silence was and continues to be a boon to ideologues in the Islamic Republic.26 Even after his death, the author’s much-publicized change of heart serves as a lesson to others who might harbor thoughts of crossing the bright red lines around the taboo topics in today’s Iran.” – Paul Sprachman on Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub’s supposed “change of heart” after his life and safety were threatened by the Iranian Islamist regime, in “Translator’s Introduction” subsection of Two Centuries of Silence: An Account of Events and Conditions in Iran [Persia] During the First Two Hundred Years of Islam, from the Arab Invasion to the Rise of the Tahirid Dynasty First edition.

First the Avid Kamgar translation:

At the time when Iranian cities in Iraq, Pars, Azerbaijan, Shoosh, Nahāvand, Ray, and Khorasan were under the Arab rule, cities of Transoxiana―that at any rate were considered Iranian cities―had remained safe from the Arab larceny. Arabs had tyrannized, foraged, and desecrated Khorasan early on, but had not been able to take hold of the other side of Āmūdarya until 53/673.

Around then, Mu’āwiyah appointed Ubayd Allah b. Ziyad, a fearless and cruel Umayyad commander, to rule Khorasan. At this time Bokhara Khodat, its longtime ruler, had died. Tughshada, his infant son, and his mother, Khātūn, the Queen Regent, survived him. During Khātūn’s time Arabs came to Bokhara a few times, and each time she sued for peace and paid tribute.217 In 674, ibn Ziyad crossed Āmūdarya and headed for Bokhara. He captured some of the flourishing villages of Bokhara and their surrounding hamlets and communities, and engaged Khātūn in brutal battles. As war went on, the Arabs uprooted orchards, destroyed villages, took many captives and seized booty.

Bokhara Khātūn

Sometime later, Sa’eed b. Osman replaced Ubayd Allah as the Khorasan emir. In his army, in addition to ghazis and mujahids, ex-convicts—thieves, bandits, and killers—served in great numbers. They had come along in the hope of sacking Khorasan cities and seizing booty. With such a predatory army, for a while Sa’eed b. Osman made inroads on the other side of Āmūdarya and looted and took prisoners, but he could not conquer Samarkand or Bokhara and had to settle for collecting levies. In Bokhara however, he acted toward Queen Regent, Khātūn, kindly and gently. Some have alleged Khātūn accepted him as a friend and that the relationship developed into a romantic liaison.

Silver dirham following Sasanian motives, struck in the name of Ubayd Allah https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20550949

It is said, “Once Sa’eed made peace with Khātūn and reached Bokhara he became ill. Khātūn came to visit him. She had a pouch filled with gold coins. From it she took out two small items and said, ‘I will keep one for myself and give one to you to eat and get well.’ That left Sa’eed curious about what it is that the Khātūn dispenses with such dearness and distinction. When she left, Sa’eed took a look at it. It was nothing but a dried-out date. The next day he ordered his men to bring five camel loads of fresh dates to Khātūn. She opened the saddlebags and saw the dates, then took out her own date to compare; it was the same. She went to Sa’eed to apologize and said, ‘We do not have much of this commodity. I had kept these two dates for years in case I become ill.’ Further, it is said Khātūn was sweet and very beautiful and Sa’eed became besotted with her. People of Bokhara wrote songs in Bokhara language about their affair.”218

Qutayba ibn Muslim

At any rate, the inroads made by Ubayd Allah Ziyad and Sa’eed b. Osman in their first raids across Āmūdarya did not add to Muslim territories. Unable to export Islam to Transoxiana, they contented themselves with seizing booty, levying taxes, and taking captives. Muslim b. Ziyad, Ubayd Allah’s brother, and a few others who came to rule Khorasan flaunted and paraded in Transoxiana, but except for raiding, killing, and pillaging every few years accomplished nothing. Transoxiana did not submit to the Arabs fully, until 86/705 when Qutayba b. Muslim Bāhilī (669–715/716) was appointed Khorasan emir by Hajjaj.

Ibn Qutayba—much like his superior, Hajjaj—was one of the cruelest and most fearless of all Arab commanders. In pillaging, killing, and tyrannizing the citizens of Khwarazm, Tokhārestan, and Transoxiana, he did what no one had done before or after.

To invade Bokhara in 710, he camped near Paykand, a prosperous commercial town outside of Bokhara, and put it under siege until the town fell. He then left one of his men in charge there and headed for Bokhara. The residents of Paykand, however, rebelled against the lawlessness of the usurpers and killed the Arab emir. When Qutayba received the news he ordered his army to turn back and proceeded to ransack Paykand. He declared people’s lives and possessions mobāh (can be taken with impunity). The Arabs reaped much from this killing and looting; they demolished the Paykand temple and took away all and any valuables and rare novelties that they found.

Bokhara too was taken by storm. A peace accord was drawn and Qutayba imposed a yearly tax; whereby 200,000 dirhams were to go to the caliph’s coffers and 10,000 dirhams to the Khorasan emir. In addition he ordered half of the residents’ homes and fields be given to the Muslims; and those living in the fringes of the city provide fodder for the Arabs’ horses.219 And so the Arabs invaded Bokhara and became housemates with the dehghāns. Those who found living with the Arabs a disgrace had no alternative but to move out of their homes, thus leaving the city to the Arabs. Bokhara was transformed into a Muslim city; mosques were erected over the ruins of fire temples and the precious metal bazaar, Mākh,220 where carpenters and painters—perhaps until a short time earlier—were crafting idols and images, lost its luster. Qutayba eventually installed one of his men in Bokhara as the emir and headed for Samarkand.

Invasion of Samarkand

But Samarkand was not conquered easily. Qutayba put the city under siege for a while; the city residents defied the siege, while Qutayba and his army waited outside the city for a long time. About the conquest of Samarkand, which inevitably was accomplished with much looting, killing, and brutality, the story related in some history books, brings to mind Homer’s tale of the Trojan War. It is written when Qutayba’s wait behind the gates of Samarkand dragged on, the Samarkand dehghān sent him a message that said, ‘You will not be able to unlock the city, even if you stayed behind its gates all your life, as it has come in our books that no one can achieve this feat, except for a man by the name Pālān, and your name is not Pālān.’ Upon hearing this, cries of Allah-u Akbar filled the air, as Qutayba and his men joyfully yelled out Samarkand shall be conquered by us, because Qutayba means Pālān (camel saddle).

At any rate the lengthy siege urged the assailants to resort to a stratagem. Qutayba ordered his men to build several wooden crates whose doors could be opened and closed from the inside. He stuffed a fighter in each, sealed the crates, and sent a message to the dehghān that he would soon leave the gates of Samarkand and head for Chaghanian. He added that he would need to leave behind some weaponry and possessions, which he would pack in crates and send to the dehghān as a pledge, and asked that they’d be restored to him if he were to return safely. The unsuspecting Samarkand dehghān accepted Qutayba’s request, and the crates made it inside the city gate. When night fell, the fighters broke out of the crates, wielded their swords and put anyone that they crossed on their way to the gate to the sword. There, they killed the guards and opened the gate for Qutayba fighters to storm inside. The dehghān—unable to resist―fled and Samarkand fell into the enemy hands…221

Perhaps the conquest of Samarkand was not accomplished by such a “Trojan Horse” ruse, and perhaps too this account is filled with hyperbole and allegories, but there appears to be no doubt that Qutayba conquered Samarkand dishonestly and contrary to the Muslims’ accord. Prior to Qutayba’s arrival in Khorasan, Sa’eed b. Uthman―the former Khorasan emir―had apparently made peace with the Samarkand dehghān by imposing 700,000 dirhams kharāj and taking 100,000 men hostage, in exchange for ceasing to interfere with Samarkand, its residents and their faith. Since then the Samarkand dehghāns had operated on the basis of this accord, for both the Arabs and the inhabitants of Samarkand upheld it. However, after the invasion of Samarkand, Qutayba expelled its residents from their homes and settled his own men in their houses; it is not hard to envision the bloodshed and the devastation that took place in a situation such as this.

It is said that once Caliph Umar b. Abd al-Aziz (r. 717–720) was seated, inhabitants of Samarkand took their grievances to him and lamented about Qutayba invading their city with brutality and taking their homes―thus violating the accord that the Arabs had made with the Samarkand dehghān. Umar b. Aziz ordered one of his judges to look into their petition and offer a just decree. The judge ordered the Arabs and the people of Samarkand to once again battle over the Samarkand gate. If the Arabs won, Samarkand would be considered a city taken by curse; otherwise they would conclude another treaty.

Clearly this edict did not change the life of the people of Samarkand whose city and homes had fallen into Arab hands unlawfully, but the narrative shows that the conquest of Samarkand by Qutayba continued to be seen as an unwarranted deception.222 Apparently, the deception that Qutayba resorted to was with the intention of invading Samarkand, taking the inhabitants captive, and seizing their properties and possessions. At any rate, this conquest devastated Samarkand, and the dehghāns and the elites had no choice but to write its elegy.

After the invasion of Samarkand, Qutayba installed a garrison there and rushed to other cities in Transoxiana. He invaded Chaghanian, Kesh, and Nakhashb, and most cities on the other side of Āmūdarya, as well as Khwarazm and Tokhārestan, and he sacked every city with the same brutality.223 And although he was eventually killed by Arab soldiers,224 the cities beyond Āmūdarya had been destroyed, and with it hopes and dreams of the troubled former elites of Tīsfūn and Nahāvand.

Thereafter, until the fall of the Marwanids (715–747), the Arabs wielded complete control in cities of Transoxiana. Iranian dehghāns, amirs, and princes of these cities who had, for the most part, accepted Islam in appearance, secretly preserved their own faith as they aided the Arabs in collecting kharāj and milking the destitute, while frequently fighting amongst themselves.225 Qutayba cleverly took advantage of these conflicts―which he often helped create―in order to capture the Transoxiana cities. When disagreements grew between the emirs of Chaghanian and his neighboring cities, Qutayba launched attacks on these cities with the pretext of supporting the Chaghanian emir; and when the Khwarazm emir faced uprising by the Khwarazm dehghāns he made their support an excuse and invaded Khwarazm.226 He then proceeded to massacre a large section of their population.227, 228

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence (pp. 157-163). Translated by Avid Kamgar. AuthorHouse. Kindle Edition.

Book Burning

There is little doubt that in the Arab invasion numerous books and libraries in Iran were destroyed. This claim is backed by historical facts and supported by many circumstantial evidence. All the same, some historians express doubt about it. Why this doubt? For the Arab, who had no respect for any language but the word of his God, what purpose did preserving Magi books—that to him were at best a cause for deviation from the true path—serve to try to preserve them? Alone the fact that at the time among Muslim Arabs the knowledge of script and books was exceedingly rare, speaks of their lack of interest in books and libraries. All point to the fact that the Arabs did not benefit from the kind of books—of which a few renderings from the Pahlavi culture has survived—and leaves no doubt that they did not regard these kinds of books with deference and admiration.

Added to that, in the era when knowledge and excellence were almost exclusive to the mobeds and the elites, the disappearance of these two classes of society evidently left no steward of their books and literary works. Was it not that in the Arab assault these classes lost their status and respect more than all others, and were routed or killed? Their disappearance left no patron to whom to trust the effects and books. The names of many of the books from the Sasanian era have survived, but no other information about them exists. Even their translations that were made in the early Abbasid era have been lost. Clearly the Islamic environ was not suited for such books to thrive in, or even survive in, and that is basically what is behind the destruction and disappearance of Iranian books.155

It is said that when Sa`d b. Abī Waqqās captured Madā’in and saw countless books in its libraries, he wrote to Umar and asked what to do with them. Umar in response wrote, “Throw them all in the river. If what appears in these books gives guidance, then God has sent us the Quran, which is a most superior guide, and if in them there is nothing but cause for deception, God has indeed saved us from their evil.” Therefore, all the books were thrown in the river or were burnt.156 Some historians have doubted the accuracy of this information because it is not reflected in books belonging to early Islamic centuries, but it is hard to imagine that the Arabs treated the Zoroastrian books any better.

Regardless, when the Arabs clinched the rule of Iran, the Iranian languages, too, became their hapless victims. These languages were neither used in the Arab governmental institutions, nor could they play a role in their religious functions. With no effort put in their growth, their importance and status declined by the day. The use of the Pahlavi language gradually became exclusive to the mobeds and the Zoroastrians―if they did write any books. However, its difficult script caused it to gradually fade away. In cities and villages people conversed in Dari, Soghdi, and Khwarazmi languages among themselves, but had no further use for them, and not being harmonious with the Arab religion or the new life, no new literary work was transpired in these languages. And so, when Arabic thundered, Persian went silent―for a time. That was why in the years of silence and destitution Iranian languages became subjugated to Arabic, and mixed with Arabic, as Arabic words―in particular in the arena of religion and administration―were gradually adopted into the Persian language.

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence (pp. 116-118). Translated by Avid Kamgar. AuthorHouse. Kindle Edition.

When will it be that a harbinger from Hindustān,

Herald coming of Bahram Shah Kian,

With elephants, atop each a mahout in a caravan,

Adorned with a banner, Khosravān,

Generals in front, troops behind,

A clever man, a sage must go

And tell the Hinduān,

How we suffered from this horde

Unfurled the Arab its creed

And gone was our Empire by their deed

Like dievs their faith, like dogs they eat

Padeshahi they robbed from Khosravān

Not by merit, not gallantly,

But with shame and mockery,

Took from people heartlessly,

Women, sweet possessions, gardens and blossoms,

Allotted jizya on our heads,164

Extorted taxes too,

Watch what evil they can do,

Worse than that nothing in the world imbue …

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence (pp. 121-122). Translated by Avid Kamgar. AuthorHouse. Kindle Edition.

Zandik

The first few Abbasid caliphs, too, sternly prevented the spread of the mawāli’s ideas. During the reigns of Mansur and Mahdi many mawāli were accused of being Zandik and were put to death. Yet, there are many indications that towards the end of the Umayyad, vestiges of Zartoshti and Mānavi began to secretly promote their beliefs.

The Zandiks seem to have been more proactive in spreading their views compared with other factions. Their approach was to first sow seeds of doubt in the minds of Muslims about their religion, and naturally they found a more conducive environment for growth in the corrupt and ruffian political atmosphere of the Umayyad regime. Zandakeh was apparently a sequel to Māni’s teachings, but it was founded on mistrust of all religions. Consequently, anyone who doubted religious principles was linked to the Zandiks, or at least was imputed to be their ally. Certainly during the Umayyad era such beliefs had more opportunity for growth. There is then little surprise that one of the most decadent of the Umayyad caliphs, Walid b. Yazid, welcomed Zandakeh beliefs and pretended to be a Zandik.

At the beginning of the Abbasid era too, the ongoing troubles and concerns, provided a relatively free environment for the spread of Zandik. It allowed Māni’s followers and other free-thinkers and atheists to begin promoting their faiths in Basra and Baghdad, and generate uncertainty in the minds of Muslims. But when, during the reigns of Mansur and Mahdi, their activities grew more serious and dangerous; these caliphs were forced to search for a cure.

In reality, Zandakeh threatened not only Islam, but also the caliphate―Zandiks refuted both Islam and the Quran, which the Arab caliphate was based on. They had no praise for the Quran, did not accept what the interpreters said of Quran’s Mohakemāt and Moteshābehāt,421 claimed that there were conflicting remarks in the Quran, and considered some verses to contradict others.422

Some Zandiks counterfeited Quranic verse, contrasted them with those in the divine book, and mocked religious rites and customs. Yazdān ben Bazān saw people circumambulate the Kaaba, in Mecca. He laughed and said, ‘These people are like revolving oxen as they thresh the grain from stalk.’423 Another Zandik, while debating Imam Ja’far Sādiq (the seventh Shi’a imam) asked, ‘What is the purpose of praying and fasting?’ The imam replied, ‘If there is a day of judgment, performing these religious duties will pay off, and if there is none, from such deeds no harm will come to us.’424 Such remarks by the Zandiks of course were bold and dangerous. Not surprisingly the Abbasid caliphs quickly sensed the danger and fought to abolish it. In the course of this, some clear sighted free-thinkers were accused of being Zandiks and were executed. However, records indicate that invitation and promotion of Zandakeh were pursued seriously and fervently since Mansur’s era.

Abdullah ben Muqaffa

Among those who were accused of Zandakeh and were eventually put to death in this era, ibn Muqaffa and Bashshār ben Burd can be named. Abdullah b. Muqaffa was a prominent translator and author of Arabic language, but he was Iranian. His original name was Rūzbeh, son of Dādviyeh from Jur, Pars/Fars province. Numerous narratives claim that he was a Zandik, and it is said that he wrote a book vis-à-vis the Quran.425 Caliph Mahdi is quoted as having said that he has not seen a book on Zandakeh whose genesis was not driven by ibn Muqaffa. Abu Rayhān Bīrūni has said that when ibn Muqaffa translated Kellil-o-Demneh from Pahlavi into Arabic,426 he added the Borzūyeh chapter—which was not part of the original—in order to sow the seeds of doubt in the minds of Muslims, and prepare them to accept his faith which was Mānavi.

What has been related in books, of Muqaffa’s life story, suggest that he had Zandik proclivities. Eventually, Sufyān b. Mu’āwiyah, Basra’s governor, accused him of Zandakeh and killed him under gruesome conditions. But the truth is that above all he became victim to his enemies’ envy. It is written that Sufyān begrudged al-Muqaffa and was steadfastly looking for an opportunity to destroy him. Encouraged by Caliph Mansur―who also resented Muqaffa―Sufyān found an opportunity and arrested him. Then he ordered to fire up a furnace, dismembered Muqaffa little by little, and threw the parts in the furnace as Muqaffa watched.

Ibn Muqaffa’s words that have been related in books point to the fact that he, like other Zandiks, was irreverent towards religions. Even if—notwithstanding Abu Rayhan’s claim—ibn Muqaffa did not add the Barzuyeh chapter to Kellil-o-Demneh, there are other indications that Muqaffa regarded religion and faith with doubt and distrust. For example in Risala fi-l-Sahaba that Muqaffa sent to Mansur―after emphatically recommending the protection of the Khorasanis―he says that there is much contradiction and disagreement in religious jurisprudence and often two opposing commands are issued on one subject. He then asks the caliph to seek a solution; to write to his judges and urge them to make a ruling to guide arbitrations, in order to prevent disagreements and anxiety. In this treatise the doubt and confusion that is abound in the Borzūyeh Tabīb chapter, and which is one of the important frameworks of Zandakeh beliefs, are apparent, and reveal that its author’s purpose, more than finding a solution, was criticism.

Even if ibn Muqaffa was a Zandik, he was not like the zandiks who viewed atheism and free thinking a kind of wittiness and he did not pretend to be Zandik by as much as Bashshār b. Burd and Aban b. Abdolhamid did. But he did try to open the Muslims’ eyes to new ideas, and by translating books and circulating scientific and literary treatise make them doubt their religious beliefs.

Bashshār ben Burd

In contrast to ibn Muqaffa, Bashshār (714–783) construed Zandakeh a kind of humorous act and a performance, and did not shirk from flaunting his sentiment. Bashshār was a blind poet from Tokhārestan. His poetic gift in ghazal sarāii427 made him a favorite with women who would go to his home to learn his poems, and with minstrels who would not sing anything but his songs. But the devout used to say that nothing more than the songs of this blind man spreads debauchery, sin, and lust. Bashshār used his talent and art to promote Zandakeh, and not surprisingly his songs were considered the main instrument of propagating Zandakeh. Wāsil b. Atā, a prominent Mu’tazilite said of Bashshār, “Words of this blind is one of the biggest and most durable of Satan’s snares.”

One of the beliefs that Bashshār openly preached and indoctrinated was that fire—the paragon of light, and object of worship for Zartoshtis and Zandiks—was superior to clay, on which Muslims prostrated, and regarded as the composition of human nature. Below is his famous couplet:428

The Earth is dark and the Fire resplendent,

and the Fire has been adored since it became Fire.

He even placed Satan—that was created out of fire—above man that was formed from clay. Such remarks that quipped and demeaned Islamic beliefs resulted in him being accused of Zandakeh. Eventually when Caliph Mahdi went to Basra he ordered Bashshār to be arrested—because of Bashar’s mockery of him—and flogged until he died.

Proliferation of Zandik

In addition to Bashshār and Muqaffa, a number of other narrators and writers of Arabic language were accused of Zandakeh. They had even written books authenticating and validating Māni, Marqiyun, and Burdisan faiths. Some of them were put to death by Mahdi; among them Abdulkarim b. Abi al-Ūjā―a follower of Māni who actively pursued proliferation of Zandakeh, and openly debated the opposition. Some of his debates with Abū l-Hudhayl Allāf, a Baghdad Mu’tazila, have been related in books. He too, was killed by Caliph Mahdi’s decree.

In fact, in the caliphate age, Zandakeh became more popular than most other ancient Iranian religions. Free-thinkers, not wanting to live under the yoke of any religion, found Zandakeh to their taste, while many accepted it only for its grace and for pleasure. Zandakeh was not exclusive to the mawāli; some Arabs were familiar with it through the inhabitants of Hira since ancient times, and Iraq had long been considered one of the arenas for the rise of the Māni faith. As such, Zandakeh was popular with free-thinkers, at the beginning of the Abbasid caliphate.

Besides those who lost their lives by being accused of Zandakeh, there were others who were allegedly Zandik, but did not overplay it and thus were not ensnared by it. Many poets and writers―whose accounts can be found in literary and history books―were accused of Zandakeh and mockery. What compelled the caliphs to tangle with them was the persistency with which the Zandiks tried to instill distrust of all religions in people, and regarded anyone labeled prophet―but for Māni―liars. Certainly Muslim caliphs found that difficult to tolerate. In particular that the Quran held the Majoos as people of book, but mentioned nothing of the sort about Mānavis.

Consequently, Caliph Mahdi and his successors set out to eliminate the Zandik in earnest. Mahdi assigned someone with the title “Sahib al-Zandigh” (owner of Zandiks) to hunt them down and rout them.429 He also urged his son Hādi not to stop the persecution of the Zandiks when he succeeds him,430 and Hādi did not disappoint. After Hādi, Hārūn continued the clampdown, and in 171/788 when he pardoned defectors and deserters, he did not include, among them, the Zandiks―who fearing him had fled.431 When Caliph Ma’mūn invited Yazdānbakht, one of Zandik leaders, to come from Ray and debate the Muslim ulama in his presence, Yazdānbakht asked for safe conduct, to freely debate them, but he suffered defeat in the debate. Ma’mūn told him, ‘Yazdānbakht, convert to Islam that if I had not given you immunity I would kill you now.’ He responded, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, what you say is reasonable, but I know that you are not one to force people to renounce their faith.’432

Even so, Ma’mūn showed little forgiveness towards the Zandiks, and followed his predecessors’ policies in persecuting them. When they brought Ma’mūn the news that ten Zandiks had emerged and were calling people to the Māni faith, he ordered to arrest them and bring them to him. A sycophant saw ten people going somewhere. Thinking that they were going to a feast he joined them, and when they were taken aboard a boat he climbed on with them. As they arrived he was put in chain along with the others. The frightened man asked the ten who they were and why they were shackled. They told him their story and asked him why he fell among them. He replied, I was a toady and when I saw you I thought that you were invited to a feast and joined in with you; now I am caught. The boat arrived in Baghdad and the company was taken to Ma’mūn. He called them in, one by one, and urged them to curse Māni and abandon their faith, and when they refused he killed every one of them. Then it was the sycophant’s turn. Ma’mūn asked him who he was. The man told his story, whereupon Ma’mūn laughed and set him free.433

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence (pp. 273-279). Translated by Avid Kamgar. AuthorHouse. Kindle Edition.

Notwithstanding his conduct towards the Zandiks, Ma’mūn treated other factions with moderation. In fact, in his era religious debates among the people of book were revived. These gatherings—that were mostly held with Ma’mūn present—allowed religious authorities, and in particular the mobeds, to speak in support of their beliefs, and to debate Muslim orators. The debates started a new kind of battle between the Zartoshti mobeds and Muslim theologians. It was a battle that took place in the light of wisdom and knowledge, where physical force and sword played no role.

Ma’mūn, because of his interest in exploring ideas, for a while, gave freedom to followers of different faiths to debate and argue their case. Theologians and scholars―familiar with Greek, Iranian, and Hindu educations―argued with ashāb-e hadith (experts in Islamic traditions) and out of it new discourses about beliefs emerged. Topics such as, whether or not human beings have a will of their own, and whether the Quran is created or not, were discussed and fought over. About which religion or faith is compatible with knowledge and wisdom, and which is not, theologians and experts, argued and fought.

Ma’mūn was fond of such debates and found them valuable in search for truth. Thus he sheathed the sword that the caliphs had drawn on the clear-sighted, and ordered the sectarians to rise and argue with the Islamic ulama and theologians. Ma’mūn was of the opinion that the enemy should be overcome with reason and not by force, because victory achieved by coercion disappears when power fades, while victory reached with reason cannot be destroyed.434

It is related that on Tuesdays, scholars and authorities in religion and discourse, gathered in the caliphate hall of audience. They ate in the light of braziers―in a special chamber that Ma’mūn had arranged for them―then washed hands and gathered in the debating suite, where Ma’mūn welcomed them and opened the debate. During the debate they spoke in complete freedom, and at twilight once more they were offered foods and drinks before they dispersed.435

At these gatherings the disciples and leaders of different religions were present; among them individuals such as Āzar Farnabogh, the Zartoshti high priest, and Yazdānbakht, the Mānavi leader. In some of these gatherings that took place in Khorasan, Ali b. Musa al-Ridha took part too. Records of some of these debates, cited in books, reveal that such gatherings had made brisk, the bazaar of discussions and debates about science of commandments and beliefs―and encouraged the followers of religions to write books and treatises in order to affirm their religions or to remove their deniers’ misgivings.

Dualism Debates

In the uproar that flared up among the masters of beliefs and religions in this era, inevitably the Mazdayasnan found an opportunity to join in the debates. This participation gave the mobeds a chance to discuss Islam and the Quran, and to argue, and offer opinion on the validity or weaknesses of the beliefs that in the last century had humbled and subdued the Zartoshti faith. Examples of such debates―between the Zartoshti and Muslim ulama―are found in books. Among them, it is written that Mahin, a hirbod, debated Imam Ridha, in Ma’mūn’s presence. “Al Ridha asked Mahin, ‘By what logic do you regard Zarathustra a prophet?’ Mahin replied, ‘Zarathustra brought us something that prior to him no one had, and sanctioned things for us that no one before him had. Ridha questioned, ‘did such things, that you say about him, not reach you from the traditions of ancient forbearers?’ Mahin answered, ‘That is so.’ Ridha contended, ‘other world’s nations are the same, because they too, learned about their prophets―such as Moses, Jesus, and Mohammad―from their ancestors. Then how is it that you know Zarathustra from your ancestor’s predicate, have yielded to his prophecy, and claim that what he has brought, no one before him has, but you do not believe the claims of other prophets whose traditions also have come through ancient ancestors?’ Mahin, lost for words, gave no response.”436

Another example of such debates is a conversation that took place between Ma’mūn and a dualist. The story of this debate is related as follows: “In Ma’mūn’s time by his order all religions were debated in his presence. Until a man came to speak who had dualist beliefs. Ma’mūn ordered experts in Muhammadan jurisprudence and orators to gather and debate him. The man began, ‘I see a world filled with good and evil, light and dark, noble and wicked. The mirror image of any of these opposites, must be a separate maker, as wisdom does not allow for one creator to do good and to sin as well―and he made other similar arguments.’

“The crowd went up in arms, as they cried out, ‘O Commander of the Faithful, with a person such as this, one should not debate, but with a sword.’ Ma’mūn was quiet for a while; then he asked the man, ‘What is religion?’ He responded, ‘Religion is that there are two makers; one creates good and the other evil, and the role of each is clear―one who does good, does not commit sin and that who commits evil does not do good.’ Ma’mūn questioned, ‘Are they both in control of their actions, or not?’ The man rejoined, ‘Both are in control of their actions, and the creator is never powerless.’ Ma’mūn continued, ‘and no inability infiltrates them?’ The response was, ‘No, how would deity be unable?’ Ma’mūn said ‘Allah-u Akbar, the maker of divine wants everything to be him and the maker of evil not to exist, and the creator of evil wants the creator of good not to exist. Can it go according to their wish or not?’ The man replied, ‘no, neither has power over the other.’ Ma’mūn said, ‘thus the impotence of both is clear and an impotent cannot be God.’ The dualist remained puzzled. Then Ma’mūn ordered him be executed, and everyone praised Ma’mūn.”437

The dualist’s name is not revealed in the text, but since what Ma’mūn did to him—at the end of the debate—is similar to how he censured Māni’s followers, some historians have alleged that he was a Mānavi; have even supposed him to be Yazdānbakht.438 Yet, Ma’mūn did not kill Yazdānbakht. It is possible that this debater is the author’s figment of imagination, and borne out of his wishes and prejudices. Still, this debate that took place between a dualist and Ma’mūn is based on Zartoshti beliefs―examples of which have appeared in Pahlavi books. It is evident that, in such deliberations, what concerned the Zartoshtis was the question of good and evil, and how it is possible to attribute wickedness to God.

Doubt-Dispelling Exposition

In the Pahlavi book, Shekand Gumanic Vichar,439 which was apparently written shortly after Ma’mūn’s era, there are remarks that disclose the extent of the mobeds’ bewilderment. For mobeds the notion of attributing ugliness and sin to the God of divine and good was unimaginable. Did God, who created the world’s beauties and goodness, offered ugliness and evil to the world as well? If the God of universe created evil, He must be ignorant, powerless, and devoid of charity. Such are imperfections, and how can God who should be consummate and complete, be discharged from such failings.440

In the debate that took place between Ma’mūn and the dualist, the very notion that forms the basis of conversation in Shekand-Gomanik Vichar, no doubt, was the major obstacle that made the dualist Mazdayasnan and hesitate to accept Islam. They were asking that, if God―as Muslims say―has no opposite or counterpart, what does it mean to call him dominant and powerful?441 It was not easy for the Mazdayasnan to imagine a unique God with no opposite, and no counterpart. They said, “if such God is wise and propitious why does he allow evil and ugliness to transpire, and if he, himself, ranks divine higher than evil why is it that the impure and the wicked have an upper hand in this world?’442 ‘And if he is merciful and compassionate why does he ordain people to be ignorant, blind, and cruel?’443

To these criticisms, Muslim ulama such as Abu al-Hadhil and Nezam, offered accurate and precise responses, which have appeared in books of commandments. But the kind of objection that has been directed at the Muslim ulama in Shekand Gumanic Vichar, are examples of the disputes that transpired between Mazdayasnans and Muslims, from the start. The breadth of Ma’mūn’s natural disposition, and the nonchalance and forbearance that he adopted in his conduct towards the Mazdayasnans and other factions, gradually gave them courage to raise objection to various topics in the Quran too―and reckon its teachings contradictory. Examples of such objections, found in Shekand Gumanic Vichar, reveal the kind of fight that Iranians engaged in―against Arabs and Muslims―in the light of logic and wisdom.

In one place Shekand Gumanic Vichar says, “In their heavenly book there is the following seemingly contradictory claim about good deed and sin, ‘virtue and sin are both by Me; demon and sorcery are unable to harm anyone, no one bears religion and does good unless it is My will, and no one speaks blasphemy and commits sin unless I will it.’” And then, in the same book, often He complains, and curses the created that, why they want sin and do evil … This is His desire and His doing, and nonetheless He threatens humans with the torture of Hell and physical and mental torment for these sins. In one place the Quran states, “I, myself, draw humans to deviance, that if I so desire I can bring them to the righteous path, but I want them to go to Hell.” Then in a different place it declares, “Humans are themselves the cause of sin and the doers of evil…”444 These are examples of what, the Mazdayasnans were articulating in their struggle, against the Islamic ulama, and in their attempt to prove the supremacy of their religion.

However, the tongue of the Muslim orators―like the sword of their ghazi―triumphed in rebuffing these doubts and objections, and ended all such conversations. Yet, these remarks show that the Zartoshti mobeds and hirbods—even at the height of Islam’s power and grandeur―used any opportunity to oppose Islam and debate to reject it. And even if these contentions do not have firm footing, they speak of the struggle that went on between Iranians and Arabs in the light of knowledge and wisdom. The Zartoshti ulama did not only debate the Muslims. They debated Jews, Christians, Mānavis and even the atheists. Examples of these, too, can be found in Shekand Gumanic Vichar, and suggest that the Zartoshtis did not fall short in their efforts to propagate their faith in the age of Islam, and they did it fervently.

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence (pp. 279-284). Translated by Avid Kamgar. AuthorHouse. Kindle Edition.

Professor PAUL SPRACHMAN‘s Translation:

The Conquerors’ Behavior

Stories recounted in the sources in this vein are astonishing and, often, grim and lamentable. We read cAbd al-Raḥmān b. Samura, the conqueror of Sistan enforced the practice of “not killing weasels and [jzh`hā?].”7 Apparently, the hungry lizard-eaters could not keep their hands off weasels. Accounts of the conquest of Mada’in also illustrate the Arabs own simple natures and ineptitude. Hindushāh writes:

“It is said a man found part of a ruby of exceptional quality, but did not know it. Another man, who knew the value of the stone, bought it from him for one thousand dirhams. When asked by another man why he sold the ruby so cheaply, the finder said, “If I had known there were numbers over a thousand, I would have asked for more.” Another man having gotten hold of some red gold called out among the soldiers, “Anyone want to trade this yellow for white?” He was under the impression silver was better than gold. There is also the case of a group of people who found a bag full of camphor, thinking it was salt. They sprinkled a bit in a cooking pot, which made their food taste bitter, not in the least salty. They were about to throw the bag away when someone who knew it was camphor bought it from them for a piece of coarse cotton fabric worth two dirhams.8”

The brutality and irascibility of the conquerors, however, did not become fully apparent until they had taken full control of the vanquished lands. When the Arabs had to administer or act as agents in these lands, their helplessness and lack of ability, and, at the same time, their cavils and ferocity became all too apparent. The sources contain narratives revealing the savage rapacity in the way the conquerors conducted business with the conquered. Undoubtedly, many of these narratives are nothing more than fiction; nevertheless, they plainly show the conquering people being foolish, borderline deranged, and devoid of refinement and breeding. They write:

“They put an Arab in charge of a province. He gathered the Jews living there and asked them about Jesus. They said they had killed him and placed him on the cross [literally “scaffold”]. The Arab said, “Did you pay his blood money?” “No,” they said. “I swear to God,” said the Arab, “you will never leave this place until you pay it.”… Abū al-cĀj was in charge of the Basra area. They brought a man from the Christian community to him. He asked the man, “What’s your name?” The man said, “Bondād Shahr Bondād.” Abū al-cĀj said, “You have three names, but you only pay the head tax for one person.” He then ordered they take by force the head tax of all three people from the man.9”

One can find many such accounts in the old chronicles. They are unanimous in showing how incapable the Arabs were of administering the lands they conquered. Despite this it was not long before local resistance to the Arabs dissipated, and, despite all their deficiencies and incompetence, the Arabs gained control of the situation. Mihrabs [prayer niches] and minarets replaced Zoroastrian fire temples and shrines. The Pahlavi language gave way to Arabic. People long accustomed to listening to the murmuring of the Magi and the royal Sasanian anthems, were now forced to endure the grim chants of “God is great” and the resounding calls of the muezzins. People who for ages delighted in the festive songs of the court minstrel Bārbad and the harpist Nakisā gradually grew use to the cries of camel drivers and the clang of camel bells. Life, which had previously been full of glitz and glamor, though stable and peaceful, was now rife with sound and fury. In place of the bāzh, barsom, kusti, hom, and of the soft orisons (zamzameh), there were now the ritual five daily prayers, ablutions, month-long fasting, alms giving, and the pilgrimage to Mecca.10

Iranians, in short, except for those acutely influenced by the teachings of Islam looked at the Arabs with ill will and loathing. There were also, however, soldiers and warriors among them, who in addition to ill will felt humiliation. This particular group considered the Arabs the vilest of creatures. The following words of Khosrow II Parviz as quoted in Arab sources give a good idea of what the Iranian royal cavalry [asāvera] and the warriors felt about Arabs:

“I have found nothing good in the way the Arabs worship nor in the way they conduct themselves in the world. They are without resolve and judgment, a people lacking energy and force. To picture their depravity and vile ambition it is enough only to see them as vermin and vagrant birds that starve their offspring to death and feed on one another out of hunger and helplessness. They are totally devoid of cuisine, clothing, and the pleasures and pastimes of this earth. The best food their wealthy benefactors can obtain for them is camel flesh, which many wild animals avoid for fear of getting sick and for its foul taste and indigestibility.11”

Anyone with such thoughts about the Arabs would naturally not submit to their yoke. Arab hegemony would have been intolerable for them, especially since it had not been achieved without widespread looting, destruction, and murder.

In the wake of the Arab invasion, many towns, cities, and fortresses were devastated. Extended families and lineages were wiped out. They pillaged the riches and property of the wealthy labeling what they robbed the spoils and lawful benefits of war. They sold Iranian women and girls in the markets at Medina, calling them “captives” and “prisoners” of war. In the name of a “head tax,” they extorted heavy payments and protection money from craftsmen and grandees who did not convert to Islam.

The Arabs took all of these measures backed by the sword and the lash. No one was ever able to object openly to them. The sole Arab responses—especially in the Umayyad period—to any kind of opposition were the punishment [ḥadd] fixed in the Quran, stoning to death, and burning.

The Clients [mawālī] and the Umayyads

Umayyad reign [661-750] was insufferable to the scions of Iranian nobility and the “freemen,” because it was established on basis of their inferiority as cajam or people of non-Arab descent, and, at the same time, on the superiority of the Arab. Even the lower classes could not stand Umayyad rule, for they found no relief or peace from the caliph or his agents, nor had they jettisoned their age-old religious prejudices. It is no wonder whenever rebellions sparked against the Umayyad machine Iranians had a hand in them.

Arab brutality and ruthlessness toward the conquered nations knew no bounds. The Umayyads, who had never forgotten their ardent tribal solidarity [caṣabiyya ], founded their government on the primacy of the Arab. With their childlike self-regard, the Arabs after every conquest categorized other Muslims as “clients” or “slaves.” The humiliation and scorn implicit in these slurs were enough to make Iranians view Arabs with enduring malice and vengeance; but somehow the harsh legal constraints and punishments the Arabs imposed on them justified that rancor. That said, the injustice and repression of the ruling apparatus caused intense anguish and dissatisfaction. The Umayyad aristocracy deprived the Iranian freemen and nobility of all their civil rights and social stature, treating their captives like store-bought slaves. This was why the term “client” (mawlā) came to signify cruelty and coercion of every type. A client was not able to engage in any respectable work. He could not make weapons nor mount a horse. If a man of Iranian descent were to take a nomad nobody for a wife, some slander monger would only have to spread lies and rumors about the couple to force the woman to abandon and divorce her husband and to have the man endure a lashing and imprisonment.

To rule and to judge were the special preserves of the Arabs; no client ever rose to such positions of power. Although Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf [governor of Iraq 694-714] appointed Sacīd b. Jubayr—despite his being a client—as judge in Kufa for a time, the Arabs generally did not think it appropriate to promote clients to high positions and stations. It was at odds with the principle of Arab primacy in temperament and race. But this preference could not last forever, since Arabs in no way had sufficient taste, talent, and experience to rule a country or an empire.

The Superiority of the Iranians

This “superior race” of Arabs, whose thoughts and actions never strayed beyond the fields of “equine and camel” husbandry, now had to govern the vast territories they had acquired and thus could not ignore their clients completely. Like it or not, sooner or later they had to admit the superiority of clients. Hence it was not for nothing a vane, proud, and ambitious Umayyad caliph was compelled to utter these famous words: “These Iranians amaze me. They ruled for a thousand years and did not need us even for an hour. While we have been ruling for a century and cannot for an instant do without them.”12 Despite those who could not see clients heading the government, it did not take long for Iranians to take their rightful places in the fields of theology and other types of learning.

Towards the end of the Umayyad period, then, most of the judges and even a large number of government agents were clients. They had control of all affairs of government. The clients’ talent and genius gradually took hold of all official endeavors. The Arabs, however, were not ready to submit peacefully to the proliferation and superiority of their own windfall slaves. The violent confrontations between the two groups gave the Iranians the chance to impose their intellectual and material superiority on the Arabs. The myth of the primacy of the Arab notwithstanding, not only did they gain the upper hand over their conquerors in administrative matters, they also proved their superiority in the military and political spheres.

But, even before this, from the very dawn of Islam, the Iranian never hid his hatred and extreme resentment of his enemies and of those who extorted money from him. Not only did one Iranian stab the Caliph cUmar b. Khaṭṭāb to death in 644, Iranians also played major roles in every act of sedition and disturbance that occurred in the Islamic world. Hatred for Arabs and discontent over the misconduct and racial prejudice of the Umayyads compelled them to join in movements against the caliph. Thus, in 683, twenty thousand Iranian residents of Kufa nicknamed the “Reds of Daylam” [ amrā’: “fair-skinned”] accepted the call of Mukhtār to rise up against the Umayyads.

Zarrinkoub, Abdolhossein. Two Centuries of Silence: An Account of Events and Conditions in Iran [Persia] During the First Two Hundred Years of Islam, from the Arab Invasion to the Rise of the Tahirid Dynasty First edition. Mazda Publishers. Kindle Edition.

Seen in this light, Mukhtār’s revolt became a pretext for Iranians to test their strength against the Arabs and an opportunity to avenge themselves against the Umayyads. The Arabs, however, who could not abide an independence movement among the Iranians, accused them of looting the wealth of widows and orphans. The accusation was false; in fact, the Arabs were themselves the ones plundering widow and orphans. It was the Arab commanders themselves who made the fall of the Umayyad government inevitable.

The primary task of these commanders was to conduct raids and jihad, the function of which was not to advance religion, but only to amass plunder and profit. Many soldiers and agents were left destitute by the avarice of the Arab chiefs and emirs. When one agent replaced another, he would have the dismissed agent arrested, and, using a variety of punishments and tortures seize everything he owned. With these measures Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf set fire to Iraq and Qutayba b. Muslim consigned Khorasan to the flames. As the demand for tax funds increased by the day, the cruel tactics used by the agents to extort revenue became more pronounced. In their writings, historians have included many stunning accounts of the callousness and brutality of Ḥajjāj’s tax farmers. The following is an example: For some years the people of Isfahan were unable to pay the taxes levied on them. Ḥajjāj assigned a Bedouin Arab the task of collecting their taxes. In Isfahan, the Arab got surety from several Isfahanis to submit their taxes and gave them ten months to pay. When the allotted period elapsed with the taxes still unpaid, the Arab arrested the Isfahanis, who made excuses for their failure to pay. The Arab swore he would have them beheaded if the taxes were not paid. One of the surety-givers was brought forward so they could behead him. After the beheading, he had them inscribe on his severed head “so-and-so, the son of so-and-so, fulfilled his loan agreement.” Then he ordered the head placed in a moneybag, which they sealed. Then they did the same to a second surety-giver. Faced with no other choice, the Isfahanis grudgingly gathered the money they owed and paid their taxes.19

In the face of the savagery and spite condoned by the tax farmers, people had only two recourses: abject obedience or bloody revolt, to which the luckless folk resorted several times.

Ḥajjāj 20

The histories relate loathsome tales of the unrelenting calamities and acts of cruelty that occurred during the bloody reign of the governor of Iraq Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf. Such accounts fill one with horror and hate. In one history we read: “Several thousand languished in his prisons, and he ordered that they be given water to drink mixed with salt and lime, and, instead of food, that they be fed with a mixture of dung and donkey urine.”21 Ḥajjāj ruled Iraq for twenty years. During that period—if the histories can be relied on—the total number of those he had killed, excluding those slain in battle, exceeded 120,000. They have written when Ḥajjāj ruled there were 50,000 men and 30,000 women in his prisons.22 These figures may not be free of hyperbole, but one can say this much: Ḥajjāj’s reign in Iraq was for everyone, especially the clients, a huge misfortune.

The Lost Language

This is what emerges when one ponders the Iranian history after the Arab invasion: The Arabs in an apparent effort to remain immune from abuse in the local languages and to never see Persian become a weapon in the hands of the conquered people, tried to wipe out languages and dialects commonly used in Iran. There was also the fear that these tongues might stir up people and threaten Arab rule in the far-flung parts of Iran. This was why wherever they ran into inscriptions, other written language, books or libraries in Iranian cities, they strenuously objected to them. The Arabs’ behavior toward the writing and language of people in Khwarazm attests to this attitude. Historians have written that when Qutayba b. Muslim, Ḥajjāj’s commander, conquered Khwarazm he put to the sword every person who wrote Khwarazmi and who was knowledgeable about history, science, and reports of past events. He also had all the Zoroastrian clergy, from the high to the low priests [herbad s], exterminated and their books incinerated. The result was that people became illiterate by degrees, and their history was forgotten.3 The incident shows the Arabs thought of spoken and written Persian as weapons, which, in the hands of the conquered people, could be used to confront their conquerors and mount attacks on them. With this in mind, it comes as no surprise they ruthlessly pursued the eradication of the language, writing, and culture of Iran. Another thing that may explain the Arabs’ war on written and spoken Persian is that the presence of the Magus’ language might have impeded the spread and propagation of the Quran. The reality was that Iranians, even those that converted to Islam, did not learn Arabic, consequently they were by and large unable to pray or read the Quran in the language. In one history, we read

“The people of Bukhara when praying at the beginning of Islam recited the Quran in Persian and could not learn Arabic. When the time came for congregants to perform the rukūc [the bow], a man behind them would call out bknitā nkint and, when it came time for sajda [full prostration], he would call out nguniyānguni konit.4”

Given the strong attachment the people in Iran had for their language, it is no wonder the Arab commanders would, to some extent, view it as antithetical to their rule and religion and would spare no effort to wiping it out everywhere they found it.

Book Burning

There can be no doubt, then, many of the books and libraries of Iran fell prey to destruction in the Arab onslaught. The histories contain numerous direct reports documenting the eradication of the writing of the past, and there are also many indications from other sources attesting to it. Despite the evidence, however, some in the scholarly community have their doubts. Are such doubts necessary? What purpose would deigning to save such books have served the Arab, who valued no writing other than the Quran? The books were the Magus’s affair and, to say the least, a cause of deviance from the straight path of scripture. At the time it was very rare to find in the Muslims’ rituals a familiarity with written culture. The level of such people’s affection for books and libraries was no secret. All indications show the Arab saw no value in books such as the Pahlavi texts extant today. Thus, there can be no doubt they would not esteem or honor the contents of such books. Apart from this, with the two groups that had enjoyed a near monopoly on learning and art, the priests and the aristocracy, out of the way, there was no need to preserve their relics and books. Wasn’t this, after all, the reason why the priests more than any other class lost their previous high status and were annihilated? Obviously, with the priestly class decimated or disbanded, no need for their books and learning, which were useless to the Arabs, remained. History records the names of many books from the Sasanian period that no longer exist. Even translations of these works, which were done at the outset of Abbasid rule, have been lost. Clearly, the environment the Muslims created was not conducive to the survival of such books and resulted in their destruction.

In short, there is every indication that many of the Iranians’ books were lost in the Arab invasion. Historians write when Sacd b. Abī Waqqāṣ took Mada’in, he saw many books there. He wrote cUmar b. Khaṭṭāb asking for instruction as to what was to be done with the books. The caliph ordered them thrown into the water. He reasoned: if what is in those books offered right guidance, God has sent us the Quran, which is a better guide than they are; but if what is in those books is nothing but misleading, God has protected us from their evil. On the basis of this they threw the books in the water or in the fire.5 While it is true this report is not found in quranic writing from the beginning of Islam, which is why some scholars doubt its authenticity, it is difficult to imagine Arabs would have behaved any better toward the Magus’ books.

Whatever the case, from the time Arabs took over, the language of Iran was subjugated by the conquerors. It was not used in the governing apparatus, nor was it of any use in religious matters. No effort was made to spread or propagate it, causing an inevitable decline in its stature and importance. Little by little the Pahlavi language became the exclusive concern of Zoroastrian priests and worshippers. If books were written at all, they were in that language; but written Pahlavi was so intricate compositions in the language eventually died out. Languages like Sogdian and Khwarazmi in the face of the harsh measures the Arabs took also gradually became obsolete. It was not just that these languages were incompatible with the Arabs’ faith and life, writing in them no longer appeared. This was why from the time the Arabic language sounded in Iran, Iranian languages became virtually speechless. With Arabic the language of religion and government, Pahlavi, Dari, Sogdian, and Khwarazmi were no longer used except among common people. To be sure people in towns and villages spoke these languages in everyday communication; however, except for that purpose they did not have much utility. This is why, during those times of silence and privation, Arabic came to dominate the languages of Iran and intermingled with them to such an extent that Arabic expressions related to religion and political administration gradually found a home in modern Persian [fārsi ].

The Silence Begins

Scholars will hunt in vain for Persian poetry written during the savage, blood-tinged silence and dark that loomed over Iran for nearly two centuries. This is because the climate in those days was not conducive to nurturing Persian poets. In the understanding of Arabs of that period, poetry meant long odes praising or condemning their own prominent men or another type called rajaz, shorter pieces imbued with bravado and a combative heroism. It goes without saying, given the tenor of the times, these two types of poetry had no chance of surfacing in Persian. This was an age when the Arabs had vanquished the Iranian people, leaving them with no recourse but death, defeat, or flight; there was then nothing heroic to sing about. Also during such times, with Arabs ruling over the cities and with the caliph sitting in Syria or Baghdad, there was no one to praise the caliph or his agents in Persian. Religious and moral themes were also not common in the poetry of those days, and Iranians, even if they had thoughts along those lines, saw no profit in expressing them in Persian. Non-Muslim Iranians also hardly had the opportunity or the leisure to indulge this type of writing. Lyrical poetry in praise of wine and women could have existed; but as it was the bane of Muslim dignity and piety, Arabs would not shut their eyes to it. Nevertheless, if the heretics and freethinkers of the time had cultivated this poetry, it never went beyond closed tribal circles and never resonated more widely. Perhaps this in itself was the reason that if there had been something like erotic poetry in Persian and even in Arabic, it did not last long and died. Even lampoons and laments, which are basic to poetry, had no chance of seeing the light of day. During those times, every protest, every complaint, from the mouths of an Iranian was brutally stifled. The caliphs regularly tormented and tortured poets and others who composed works in Arabic about the past glory of Iran and their own [pre-Islamic] ancestries.7

The Cry of the Silenced

If things were said along those lines, they did not endure, and like other traces of the Shucūbiyya [pro-Persian] movement have disappeared. And if a protest or a complaint did arise, it did not circulate widely and faded over the centuries. Objecting to the injustices and miseries the Arabs visited on people in the cities and towns, was impossible. Any person who raised his voice to object to Arab tyranny was labeled a heretic and a fire worshipper, and his blood became fair game. The swords of the holy warriors and the whips of the rulers silenced any form of protest.

If a voice were raised at all, it was in the plaintive but faint lament of a poet weeping over the ruins of his city and homeland—as in a poem by Abū al-Yanbaghī, the ill-fated son of an emir who expressed his sense of grief and grievance this way:

O Samarkand, who has reduced you to ruins?
You are better than Chāch [Tashkent], always better, bravo!8

Or it was the cry of a Zoroastrian who under torture wished the hand of the Almighty would emerge from its invisible sleeve to free his beloved Iran from the Arabs’ clutches. While waiting for the invisible to become visible, he sang in Pahlavi:

When will a messenger come from India
Saying that Shah Bahrām of Kayāni descent
Has a thousand elephants each with a keeper mounted on its head?
Who bears the royal standard on display
Before the army? To the army generals
A man must be sent, a skilled interpreter
Who will come and say to the Hindus
What we have suffered from the desert of the Arabs,
With a small band they spread their faith, and gone
Is our king of kings, gone because of them.
They worship like demons, they eat like dogs;
They have taken the monarchy from the Khosrow kings
Not with art nor with valor, but with disdain and mockery.
From men they have cruelly taken
Wives and possessions, gardens and orchards.
They imposed a tax on every head.
Despite our special garments they demand Protection money.
Look at the evil they have cast upon the world,
For there is nothing worse on earth.9

During the period when all the cities of Iran from Iraq, Fārs, Azerbaijan, Shush, Nahavand, Rayy, and Khorasan were subject to the Arab caliph, the cities of Transoxiana, though considered Persian, remained immune to the predations of the Arabs. Before that, the Arabs made considerable inroads in Khorasan, looting and tyrannizing the people, but they never gained a foothold in the lands beyond the Oxus. Around 656 Khorasan was governed by cUbaydallāh b. Ziyād, a man known to be bold but ruthless. At this time the Bokhār Khodā, as traditional governors of Bokhara were called, died leaving behind an infant son named Toghshādeh,4 whose mother, the Khātun, ruled in his stead. In her time the Arabs came to Bokhara several times, but each time she made peace with them by paying the kharāj. cUbaydallāh b. Ziyād traveled to Khorasan and, having crossed the Oxus, headed for Bokhara. He took some of the prosperous rural areas of Bokhara and the hamlets and villages near it and engaged the Khātun’s forces in fierce battles. During these encounters, the Arabs uprooted gardens and orchards, demolished villages, took many captive, and gained numerous spoils.

The Khātun of Bokhara

Not long after the events described above, Sacīd b. cUthmān replaced cUbaydallāh as governor of Khorasan. In addition to ghāzīs [warriors for the faith] and fighters engaged in jihad, Sacīd’s army consisted of many highwaymen, convicts, and killers who had come out of prison and gone to Khorasan hoping for a share of the loot and spoils of war. It was with such a force of marauders the governor carried out raids for a time in Transoxiana that yielded much wealth and many captives. However, he failed to take Samarkand and Bokhara and was only able to extract tribute and food from those two great Transoxianan cities. He treated the Khātun, the queen of the region, with kindness; some suggested their friendship was a secret romance. In the According to the Tārikh-e Bokhārā:

“After making peace with the Khātun, Sacīd fell ill, and the Khātun paid him a visit. She had a purse full of gold with her and reached into the purse pulling out two things. “This one,” she said, “I keep for myself in case I get sick. The other I’ll give to you so you can take it and get well.” Sacīd was baffled and wondered what the two things were that the Khātun had so grandly given to him. He examined them only to discover the object was shriveled date. He then ordered his men to load up five camels with sacks of fresh dates and deliver them to the Khātun. The Khātun opened the sacks and then pulled out the old date she had kept for herself. Comparing Sacīd’s dates with her own, she became apologetic saying, “We don’t have a lot of these things, so I put the two dates aside for many years in case I got sick. It is said the Khātun was a genial woman blessed with very good looks. Sacīd succumbed to her charms, and among the people of Bokhara there are many poems about their love in the local language.5”

Qutayba b. Muslim

The raids of cUbaydallāh b. Ziyād and Sacīd b. cUthmān carried out did not result in a victory for the Muslim cause. Rather than spreading Islam in Transoxiana, the Muslim warriors had to content themselves with the loot, tribute, and captives they took, and then go back across the river. Although Muslim b. Ziyād, cUbaydallāh’s brother, and several other governors of Khorasan, also made incursions into Transoxiana, all they could manage was to pillage the area and extract tribute, and, though prey to Arab raiding and killing every couple of years, Transoxiana was never wholly controlled or conquered by the invaders. This went on until 705 when al-Ḥajjāj appointed Qutayba b. Muslim al-Bāhilī governor of Khorasan. This Qutayba, like his master al-Ḥajjāj, was one of the most hardhearted and fearless Arab commanders. No one had tyrannized, slaughtered and pillaged in Khwarazm, Tokharistan, and Transoxiana to the extent he had. When he was on his way to subdue Bokhara, he stopped in the nearby town of Baykand. He stayed there besieging the town until he took it. He then put one of his men in charge and headed for Bokhara. Fed up with the volatility and lawlessness of the Arabs, the people of Baykand rebelled and brought down the Arab emir. Having learned of this, Qutayba declared the lives and property of the Baykandis fair game, which resulted in the Arabs gaining a large measure of booty. They demolished the places of worship in Baykand and took away whatever they found of value or refinement.

Bokhara was also subdued by force. Qutayba made peace with its inhabitants provided they paid a yearly tribute of 200,000 dirhams to the caliph and 10,000 dirhams to the governor of Khorasan. They also had to hand over half their dwellings, estates, and farmlands, and those who held land outside of the city were responsible for providing hay for Arab horses and pack animals. This was how the Arabs conquered Bokhara and how they came to occupy the same homes as the dehqāns. The enforced quartering naturally was not to some Bokharans liking, so they moved their households outside of the city, leaving it to the invaders. Bokhara became Muslim with its Zoroastrian fire temples destroyed and its Buddhist shrines replaced by mosques. The Bazaar of Mākh, a mosque where presumably to that point local merchants and peddlers had been making and selling [wooden] idols now fell on hard times.6 Qutayba ultimately put one of his comrades in charge of Bokhara and made for Samarkand.

The Conquest of Samarkand

The conquest of Samarkand, by contrast, was not as easy as the taking of Bokhara. Qutayba besieged the city several times, but the people put up stiff resistance, forcing the Arab general to spend a lot of time camped at its gates. Histories tell stories of the siege of Samarkand that, coupled with the inevitable looting, killing, and brutality, bring the Homeric legend of Troy’s downfall to mind. They write that when Qutayba’s siege of the city had dragged on for a time, the dehqāns of Samarkand sent him a message saying even if he stayed at the gates for a lifetime he would never open them, because it was written in their forefathers’ annals that no one would conquer the city except a man named Pālān [“saddle”]. Since Qutayba was no “Pālān,” they reasoned he would not be able to take their city. Hearing this, Qutayba and his allies let out a hearty “God is great.” They rejoiced, expecting the city would now fall into their hands, because their leader was indeed known as “camel saddle” (the meaning of qutayba). To make a long story short, as the siege dragged on Qutayba decided to use trickery to take the city. He ordered trunks made that could only be opened and closed from inside and had a swordsman placed in each trunk. The trunks were sent to the dehqāns of Samarkand along with this message: I, Qutayba, can no longer stay camped at the gates. From here I will go to Chaghāniyān, but I have some possessions and weapons I must leave behind. I have placed these in trunks, and, with your permission, I will entrust them to you. If I return safely from Chaghāniyān, you can give them back to me. Unaware of the trap Qutayba had set for them, the dehqāns of Samarkand agreed. Qutayba then ordered the swordsmen hiding in the trunks to wait until night before they climbed out, opened the gates, and delivered the city to the Muslim army. The trunks were then sent to the dehqāns, and at nightfall with the city deserted, the men got out of the trunks and, with their swords drawn, dispatched anyone who crossed their paths until they reached the gates. Then they killed the gatekeepers and opened the gates. Qutayba entered the city with his army. Having lost the will to fight, the dehqāns abandoned the city. Samarkand then fell into the hands of the invaders.7

The story histories relate of the conquest of Samarkand— however gripping and stimulating to the imagination—doubtless included the requisite looting, ruthlessness, slaughter, and destruction. Let us say, however, this particular ploy did not lead to the fall of the city or suppose the account in the histories is not devoid of hyperbole and fantasy; there is, nevertheless, no doubt Qutayba took Samarkand using treachery in violation of peace pacts made by Muslim rulers. This is because before Qutayba’s appointment to the governorship of Khorasan, Sacīd b. cUthmān had apparently formed an agreement with the dehqāns of Samarkand stipulating that if they paid a kharāj of 700,000 dirhams and if the people furnished them with 100,000 tons of provisions, the Arabs would leave the city, its inhabitants, and its religious practice alone. From the time between Sacīd b. cUthmān became governor and Qutayba b. Muslim’s coming to Khorasan, the dehqāns continued to act in accordance with the agreement both parties, the Arabs and the people of Samarkand, recognized as valid. When Qutayba b. Muslim entered Transoxiana, he took Bokhara and then turned toward Samarkand and, breaking the agreement between Arabs and dehqāns, conquered that city using deception. And it may also be that something akin to the story about the trunks in the histories (recounted above) did, in fact, take place. Be that as it may, because Qutayba used trickery to take the city breaking the standing agreement, forcing folks from their compounds and quartering his troops in the vacated dwellings. What is abundantly clear is how much wealth was squandered and how much blood was spilled because of this venture. The histories relate that after cUmar b. cAbd al-cAzīz [cUmar II, caliph 682-720] became caliph, the people of Samarkand came to him, complaining that Qutayba had broken their agreement with the Muslims by wrongfully taking their city and occupying their homes. cUmar b. cAbd al-cAzīz ordered one of his judges to look into the dispute and come up with a fair and just decision. The judge ordered the Arabs and the people of Samarkand to fight at the gates of the city once more. If the Arabs were victorious, then Samarkand would be considered a city taken as the spoils of war. If not, then a new agreement would have to be made between the two parties. While it is true the judge’s decision did not change things for the people of Samarkand, it does, nevertheless, point to the fact that Qutayba’s taking of the city was seen as accomplished through duplicity.8 Deception apparently was used to pretend the city had been conquered as a result of warfare so the Arabs could make the inhabitants prisoners of war and confiscate their property and goods as spoils. It was through such despicable trickery that Samarkand fell into ruin and anguish, and the dehqāns and grandees of the city looked upon the devastation and rightly composed laments mourning its loss.

Qutayba, for his part, put someone in charge of Samarkand and set out for other parts of Transoxiana. He also took Chaghāniyān, Kish, and Nakhshab.9 Thus he conquered most of the cities in Transoxiana, Khwarazm, and Tokharistan and continued the subjugation, ransacking, ravaging, and looting of the entire area. Although Qutayba met his death at Arab hands, he was, nevertheless, responsible for bringing down, despoiling, and ruining the cities of Transoxiana, which once had been beacons of hope to the victims of the pillaging and injustice in Ctesiphon and Nahavand. Those hopes were now dashed, and Arabs exercised total control over the cities of Transoxiana during the entire Marwanid period. The local dehqāns and emirs and their offspring, most of whom were outwardly Muslim, but inwardly adhered to their old faiths, helped the Arabs to collect the kharāj and prey on the weak.10 The local leaders were also in constant conflict with one another. In his conquest of the cities, Qutayba b. Muslim actually benefitted from these very disputes; they smoothed his path toward dominion, and he would often sow discord among them to cripple their activities. For example, when a dispute broke out between the governor of Chaghāniyān and the emirs of some neighboring cities, Qutayba, using the pretext of supporting the governor, led his army to the area. Likewise in Khwarazm, he used the excuse of supporting dehqāns who had rebelled against the Khwarazmshāh to take the province and ransack, batter, ravage, and kill in it.11

The Arabs, then, ruled with complete authority over the territories in Transoxiana all through the reign of the Umayyads. Their dogged practice of demeaning the clients and the people of non-Arab descent naturally aroused the anger and resentment of the inhabitants of those territories.

The Zindiqs [“heretics/free thinkers”: zandaqeh ] and the Interpretation of Doctrine

There is evidence indicating that from the time of Anushirvan Iranians were familiar with Greek philosophy. Even prior to that time there was contact between India and Greece. Many religious and scientific works had been translated into Pahlavi. Exposure to Greek and Indian ideas and customs would have the effect, of course, of opening new horizons, raising doubts, and promoting heresies. The extraordinary simplicity and clarity of the old ways of thinking could not sustain the weight of new ideas without breaking. Interest in the interpretation of beliefs and in the analysis of myths was growing. The rise of the Zindiqs, whom the priest bitterly opposed, can be attributed to this penchant for interpretation. Mani and Mazdak also held views colored by an interpretive impulse, and were thus branded as “heretics.” Faith in the old myths and doctrines was gradually waning. In their debates with the hierarchy of new religions, the free thinkers resorted to interpretation and exegesis. In this type of interpretation, which consisted of adducing arguments based on reason, the apparent meaning of words in religious texts lead to anomalies. In one instance, a Zoroastrian priest, who was in a dispute with a Christian named Mehrān Goshnasb, said, “We do not consider fire in any way a god. We worship God by praying to fire, just as you also worship God by praying to a cross.” Mehrān Goshnasb, who in Syriac texts is called “Georgios,” quotes from the Avesta to prove that in Zoroastrianism, fire as a god had been the object of worship.6

The effects of exposure to philosophy and the Zindiqs was gradually eroding the optimism and naiveté characteristic of Zoroastrianism. The spread of Manichaean beliefs and the teachings of Christ and the Buddha all contributed, to a greater or lesser extent, to a growing interest in ascetism and withdrawal from the world. In the “Advice of Oshnar the Wise,” there are sentiments that contradict the views of Zoroaster and, to some extent, are colored by Manichaeism. He says, “The soul survives; what disappears is the body.” Zurvanism, which was superior to the other sects during the Sasanian period, propagated a fatalism and determinism that was poisonous to the free will of Zoroastrianism and the idea of sovereign rule.

The animosity on the part of the high priests and the increasing excesses of heretical sects were also factors in encouraging people to convert to Islam. Even so, those Zoroastrians who refused to accept the new faith would become dhimmis in Islam. Their fire temples would remain safe but they would have no opportunity for proselytizing. The Muslims left them free to practice their religious rituals but, in effect, denied them permission to go to war with the Quran and Islam by spreading their faith. The Umayyad caliphs were particularly adamant on this point, suppressing any new idea that gave off the slightest whiff of heresy. This was not because the Umayyads were pious or devout; for the most part, they had little interest in religion. They had to combat any new idea and every free thought because these would seep into the minds of the clients [mawālī ], who could pose a major threat to Arab supremacy. This was the ostensible reason al-Ḥajjāj b. Yūsuf put to death Macbad b. cAbdallāh al-Juhanī, who had gotten Qadariyah doctrine from Sinbuya. The Umayyads were also brutal to Ghaylān of Damascus,14 who professed these views. Jahm b. Ṣafwān, a man from Termez in Khorasan, introduced determinism, and was severly punished for his innovation. The examples show the extremes the Umayyads would go to suppress any deviation from the religious norm, the violence they used to prevent any idea attributed to the clients from spreading.

The Zindiqs15

The first Abbasid caliphs were harsh and uncompromising toward the Zindiqs. Many people, whether clients or not, were charged with Zindiqism and put to death during the reigns of al-Manṣūr and al-Mahdī. There is, nevertheless, much evidence indicating that from the end of the Umayyad period, the remaining Magians and Manichaeans were spreading their doctrines in secret. The Zindiqs were apparently more active in this activity than the other sects. Their method of proselytizing was, first and foremost, to sow doubt about the religious and ethical bases of Islam. This method, given the climate of corruption and criminality that existed under the Umayyads, provided the Zindiqs with the chance to form movements and struggles sooner than other sects. On the surface the Zindiqs were followers of Mani, but their actual doctrine was grounded in doubt and skepticism. This was why any doubter or skeptic [of religion] was branded a Zindiq or, at least, a fellow Zindiqist traveler. During Umayyad rule, this type of belief, of course, had a wider currency than other religions. It is not surprising that one of the most corrupt Umayyad caliphs, Walīd b. Yazīd, looked with favor on Zindiq doctrine and made a show of Zindiqism. At the outset of Abbasid rule, the caliphs’ difficulties and preoccupations, to some extent, created a climate of liberalism conducive to the spread of Zindiqism. This was why in Basra and Baghdad, followers of Mani, other free thinkers, and irreligious people engaged in disseminating their views and promoting skepticism about Muslim doctrine. Under al-Manṣūr and al-Mahdī, Zindiq efforts and activities became more difficult and dangerous, which forced the caliphs to seek a solution to the problem.

The Zindiqs, in reality, threatened both Islam and the caliphate. The foundation of Arab rule was built on Islam and the Quran, the truth of which the Zindiqs questioned. Both the caliphate and the religious establishment, then, considered them pernicious. The Zindiqs did not speak kindly of the Quran; they rejected what the interpreters said about two types of verses in the Quran: the “plainly clear verses” [muḥkamāt] and “the verses requiring intuition” [mutashābihāt ]. They claimed the Quran was inconsistent with some verses contradicting others.16 Some made up verses on their own and juxtaposed those verses with the verses of the book of God. They also found [Islamic] religious rituals and rites the subject of mirth. While in Mecca, Yazdān b. Bādhān saw people circumambulating the Ka’ba and said they look like a herd of cattle trampling hay with their hooves.17 Another Zindiq, in debate with [the sixth Shia Imam] Jacfar al-Ṣādiq, asked the Imam what was the use of fasting and prayer. The Imam said, “If there is a Day of Reckoning, carrying out these duties will benefit us; but if there is not to be such a day, then they can’t do us any harm either.”18 Such talk on the part of Zindiqs, of course, was impudent and alarming. It was not surprising that the Abbasid caliphs were very quick to see the danger in it and confront it. While there were authorities and free thinkers among those put to death on charges of Zindiqism in the early period, sources indicate active recruitment to the movement and proselytizing of its doctrines did not go into full force until the time of al-Manṣūr.

cAbdallāh b. Muqaffac [ca. 721-ca. 757]19

Among those arrested and, ultimately, put to death during this period one can mention Ibn Muqaffac and Bashshār b. Burd. Though himself Iranian in origin from G r [Firuzābād] and known as Rōzbeh the son of Dādūya [a.k.a. Dādōē], cAbdallāh b. Muqaffac was considered one of the master translators and writers in the Arabic language. Many works provide accounts of his Zindiq leanings. It is said he composed a book in imitation of the Quran. The Caliph al-Mahdī is reported to have said, “Every work of heresy [zandaqa] I have seen can be traced back to Ibn al-Muqaffac.” Abū Rayḥān Bīrūnī also wrote that after Ibn al-Muqaffac translated Kalila wa Dimna from Pahlavi, he appended the chapter on Borzuya to it to cause Muslims to doubt their beliefs and make them ready to accept his faith, the religion of Mani.

From what sources tell us about the life of Ibn al-Muqaffac, we conclude he was inclined toward heresy. Safwān b. Mucāwiyya, the governor of Basra, having officially accused him of heresy, put him to death in the most appaling way. The truth is, however, Ibn al-Muqaffac, more than anything else, was the victim of his enemies’ jealousy. Safwān, it is said, resented him and was on the lookout for an opportunity to bring him down. Al-Manṣūr also despised him and egged Safwān on in his search for vengeance. After finding a way of bringing Ibn al-Muqaffac down, the governor of Basra ordered a bread oven stoked and, before his very eyes, they put his body, torn limb from limbs, into the inferno. The sources tell us Ibn al-Muqaffac, like the other Zindiqs, was respectful of religion. Even if what Abū Rayḥān Bīrūnī said about him appending the chapter on Borzuya to the translation of Kalila wa Dimna is not true, there is evidence that he looked at religions and religious sects with skepticism and distrust. One such piece of evidence is his own treatise called Risālat al-Ṣaḥāba [“Treatise on the Companions”] which he sent to al-Manṣūr. After going on at length about the inhabitants of Khorasan and their treatment, Ibn al-Muqaffac says there are many contradictions and discrepancies in the provisions of Islamic jurisprudence. Often the rulings issued on one issue contradict other rulings on the same issue. He therefore requested the caliph give some thought to the matter and write his judges so they could rule without incurring inconsistencies and confusion. Evident, too, in the treatise are the skepticism and distrust expressed in the “Borzuya, the Physician” chapter and the pillars of Zindiq belief. This shows the writer’s intent was not so much to find a solution but to find fault. In any case, Ibn al-Muqaffac, though decidedly a Zindiq, was not, like many of that ilk, one who saw irreligion and free thought as a badge of refinement and good schooling. He did not, therefore, make such an open show of disbelief as Bashshār b. Burd and Abān b. cAbd al-Ḥamīd Lāḥaqqī did. Rather, by translating and publishing works of scholarship and literature, he tried to expose Muslims to new thinking and get them to doubt their own beliefs and views.

Bashshār b. Burd

To Bashshār b. Burd, Zindiqism was a way of showing off his literary virtuosity and craftsmanship. This is why he had no compunction about openly proclaiming his affiliation to the sect. Bashshār b. Burd was a blind poet from Tokharistan. So famous was Bashshār as a lyric poet, women would visit his home to memorize his poetry, and professional singers would not perform any lyrics but his. Pious people in that age said nothing contributed to the proliferation of debauchery and depravity, of sin and lust, more than the songs of the blind poet. Bashshār also employed his taste and talent to spread Zindiqism, and his poetry was considered one of the principal reasons for the popularity of the doctrine. Wāṣil b. cAṭā, one of the major Mutazilites, said in this regard, “The poetry of this blind man is one of the greatest and grimmest of the Devil’s snares.” One of the beliefs Bashshār openly espoused involved fire. He placed a higher value on fire, which for Zoroastrians is the manifestation of light and a focus of worship, than earth, on which Muslims pray and which is the basic element in human nature. Bashshār is famous for composing the following: “earth is dark and fire is bright/and fire has been worshipped ever since it was fire.”20 The import of this is: even the Devil, who is made of fire, is superior to man, who comes from clay. This type of mocking and belittling of Muslim beliefs got Bashshār branded as a heretic. Finally, after Bashshār satirized the caliph, al-Mahdī had had enough and, while on a trip to Basra, he ordered the poet arrested and flogged to death.

The Spread of Heresy

Apart from Bashshār and Ibn Muqaffac, several other authors and composers of Arabic verse were accused of heresy. They went so far as to write books justifying the doctrines of Mani and of [early Christian theorists like] Marcion and Bardaisan. Al-Mahdī executed some of these writers as well. One of them was cAbd al-Karīm b. Abī al-cAwjā’, a Manichaean proselytizer, who engaged in open debate with his opponents. Books record some of the debates with Abū al-Hudhayl cAllāf, the Baghdadi Mutazilite. cAbd al-Karīm was also put to death by al-Mahdī. The truth is that Zindiqism during the time of the caliphs was the most widespread of all the sects of ancient Iran. This was because it represented the faith of most free thinkers who rejected religion, could be adapted to their own tastes. Many also adopted Zindiqism out of a sense of delicacy and delight in life. It was not only special territory to the clients, but the Arabs also were familiar with it. The Arabs came to know about Zindiqism through the people of Hira; Iraq also was, from early times, considered one of the places where Manichaean rites made their appearance. This was why from the beginning of the reign of the Baghdad caliphs, Zindiqism was current among the enlightened people and free thinkers of the age. Apart from those accused of Zindiqism executed by the caliphs, others to whom it was ascribed but did not go overboard in professing it were, therefore, not arrested. One can mention the names of many poets and writers of Arabic from this period who were branded Zindiq or Magian and whose stories can be read in books of history and literature. The thing that forced the caliphs to tangle with these heretics was their inflexibility and insistence on convincing people to become skeptical of all religions and beliefs. Except for Mani they considered all those known as prophets to be liars. The Muslim caliphs could not, of course, abide such a view. This was especially true considering the Quran includes Magians among the People of the Book; but there was no such language about the Manichaeans in the Quran. Al-Mahdī, then, as well as his successors, made great efforts to eliminate the Zindiqs. Al-Mahdī appointed a special agent, the “Zindiq Officer” [Ṣāḥib al-Zanādaqah ], charged with hunting down and stamping out heretics.21 He also stipulated in his will that al-Hādī, his son and successor, would continue the pursuit of the Zindiqs,22 which he did energetically. Al-Hārūn also did not stop the persecution, and in 171 [22 June 787-10 June 788], he granted all refugees and escapees but the Zindiqs, who had turned away out of fear of him, safe passage.23 Al-Ma’mūn ordered one of the Zindiq leaders from Rayy, Yazdān , to engage in open debate with Muslim scholars. Yazdān agreed but asked in advance for clemency. When he failed to be persuasive, Al-Ma’mūn said, “Yazdān , convert to Islam, for, if I had not granted you clemency, you’d have been executed by now.” Yazdān said, “O Commander of the Faithful, what you say is reasonable, but I know you are not one of those people who force others to abandon their faith.”24 This anecdote notwithstanding, al-Ma’mūn, was less tolerant toward heresy than other caliphs. Historians record he used the methods of his predecessors in his persecution of heretics. When informed that ten Zindiqs had appeared and were calling on people to follow Mani, al-Ma’mūn ordered them taken as a group. A potbellied man, famous for regularly turning up at homes uninvited, happened to see the group. Imagining they were on their way to a wedding festivity, he fell in with the men, who were on their way to a ship. When those charged with bringing them in arrived, they put the interloper in chains along with the others. Terrified, the gatecrasher asked them who they were and why were they in chains. They explained and asked him how was it he had joined them. “I’m just an uninvited guest by profession. When I saw your group, I figured you were on your way to a gathering, so I joined the group.” After the ship had reached Baghdad, they brought the men before al-Ma’mūn. One by one, each of the ten was ordered to curse Mani and renounce their faith in his religion. All ten refused and were executed. The caliph turned to the gatecrasher and asked his name and inquired about his circumstances. The man told him. This made al-Ma’mūn laugh, and he pardoned the man.25

Al-Ma’mūn and the Debate Sessions

Al-Ma’mūn, what was said above not-withstanding, was more patient and tolerant in his behavior toward sectarians. His reign, in fact, marked a renewed period of open debate and discussion among People of the Book. At these sessions, which were held mostly in the caliph’s presence, followers of [non-Muslim] religions, especially the Zoroastrian high priests, were given the opportunity to argue the truth of their religious doctrines with Muslim scholars. The debates sparked a new round of conflicts in the war between the Magians and Muslim scholastic theologians, conflicts waged in the light of knowledge and the intellect, without coercion or the sword getting in the way.

Given his interest in research and investigation into the beliefs and views held by sectarians of all stripes, al-Ma’mūn permitted a certain amount of freedom for argument and discussion. Scholastic theologians and other scholars familiar with Greek, Persian, and Indian learning would debate with those steeped in the Prophet’s traditions and pronouncements [ḥadīth s]. The confrontations gave rise to novel discourse on the issues in question. Disputes flared on human free will and the createdness of the Quran. Also controversial was the question of which faith and religion was more in tune with human learning and the intellect. Followers of various faiths and those with other beliefs engaged in debates with one another, which pleased al-Ma’mūn, who considered the back and forth an effective tool for finding the truth. For this reason, he sheathed the sword the caliphs had been using on non-Muslim leaders and ordered them to engage Muslim scholars and scholastic theologians in debate. Al-Ma’mūn believed the enemy must be vanquished by reason not by force, because any victory won by force would fade when that force degraded; however, nothing could remove victory won by reason.26 For this reason, al-Ma’mūn was very fond of debate and argumentation and regularly consorted with Muslim scholastic theologians and scholars. History records that on Tuesdays scholars and authorities from various faiths and schools would gather at the caliphal court. A special chamber was decked out; food was served, hands were washed, and braziers were lit. After lunch, the guests went en masse to begin debating at a place al-Ma’mūn reserved for them. During the sessions, there was complete freedom of speech. Towards evening, they would dine and then disperse.27 Followers of various faiths and their dignitaries would attend these meetings, including the chief Zoroastrian priest Ādhar-farnbagh and the Manichaean leader Yazdānbōkht [a.k.a. Yazdānbukht]. [The Shia Imam] cAlī b. Mūsā al-Riḍā also participated in some of the sessions held in Khorasan. Histories have preserved portions of the debates, and they reveal that the market place of ideas heated up considerably during sessions dealing with the science of discourse [kalām] and of religious doctrine. The debates compelled followers of non-Muslim religions to defend their faiths and write treatises to uphold their views and rebut the objections of their critics.

Debating Dualism

During the period of open debate among scholars from various faith communities, Manichaeans and Magians would have been expected to take part in the discussions. This meant the Zoroastrian high priests would engage in dialogue and dispute on Islam and the Quran and trade views on the truth of doctrines that had humbled and supplanted Zoroastrianism more than a century before. Histories include extracts from the exchanges between the Zoroastrian and Muslim theologians. It is reported, for example, that, with al-Ma’mūn present, cAlī b. Mūsā al-Riḍā (peace be upon him) asked one of the major herbads,

“What proof do you have that Zoroaster was a prophet?” The herbad said, “Zoroaster brought a message no one had brought before him, and he made things permissible to us that had not been permissible prior to his time.” Al-Riḍā then asked, “The things you say about Zoroaster—they’ve reached you in reports from your ancestors, haven’t they?” The herbad admitted they had. Al-Riḍā said, “Other nations of the world are no different. They have reports about their own prophets like Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad from their forebears. Why, then, do you acknowledge the prophethood of Zoroaster and claim he had brought things no one else had before, but deny the prophethood of other peoples’ prophets, when they have learned about their prophets in the same way as you have?” Left without a response, the herbad, went away.28

Another example is found in the following report of a conversation between al-Ma’mūn and a Manichaean:

During the time al-Ma’mūn arranged to have all religious sects engage in debate before him, a scholastic theologian, who practiced dualism, turned up wanting to join the fray. Al-Ma’mūn ordered all Muslim scholastic theologians and divines brought together to debate the dualist. The man began, “I see a world full of good and evil, light and dark, and right and wrong. Logic dictates each of these antitheses have a separate maker; it would be unreasonable to imagine good and evil coming from a single source.” As he went on with similar arguments, those in the gathering shouted out, “O Commander of the Faithful, the sword is only answer for such talk!” Al-Ma’mūn remained silent for a time, then he asked the man, “What is the religion?” He said, “The religion is that the Creator is twofold; the Creator of good and the Creator of evil; the actions and states of each are clearly spelled out. That which creates good does not do evil, and that which creates evil does not do good.” Al-Ma’mūn asked, “Do both have control over their actions or not?” “Both,” said the man, “have authority over what they create; the Creator never lacks such capability.” Al-Ma’mūn asked, “No Creator can admit inability?” “No,” he said. “How could a worshipped-being admit being incapable?” “God be praised!” declared al-Ma’mūn, “The Creator of good wishes all to be him and not to be the Creator of evil, and the Creator of evil wishes not to be the Creator of good. Is this not what they intend?” “No,” he said, “Neither has the upper hand over the other.” Al-Ma’mūn said, “Now the incapacity of the two is plain for all to see, and it is not right to attribute such weakness to the Creator.” This baffled the dualist. Al-Ma’mūn had him killed, after which all sang the caliph’s praises.29

The dualist’s name does not appear in the report. However, because al-Ma’mūn handled him the way he handled other Manichaeans, some scholars have been led to believe the dualist was Manichaean. Some even identify him as Yazdān Bokht.30 It is possible that al-Ma’mūn did not have Yazdān Bokht killed; however, it also seems the writer fabricated the incident out of bias, or because he wished it to be so. The debate, nevertheless, between the dualist and the caliph lifts the curtain on a basic Zoroastrian tenet, which resembles what we find in Pahlavi works. It shows what troubled the dualist more than anything was the problem of good and evil. The [Zoroastrian] people were preoccupied by the question of how evil acts could be attributed to the deity.

The Polemics of the Shikand-gumanik Vichār

Does language in the Shikand-gumanik Vichār,31 apparently written a short time after the history mentioned above, show just how perplexed and skeptical the Zoroastrian clergy were in this matter? The idea that offence and sin could be attributed to the God of right and goodness was unthinkable to them. Could the god that created all that was fine and beautiful in the world be the same One who bestowed upon it what was repulsive and evil? If the God of the world was the Creator of ugliness and evil, then that Creator must also be unknowing, incapable, and devoid of goodness and mercy, all of which are defects. How could God, who must be the perfect being and the perfection of being, brook such imperfections?32 This question, which arose in the debate between al-Ma’mūn and the dualist, formed the basis of the discussion in the Shikand-gumanik Vichār. This was undoubtedly one of the most important problems that made Mazdakites and dualists dubious about converting to Islam. This question was on their minds: If, as the Muslims say, God has no peer or partner, how is it right to call Him “the Irresistible” and the “Conqueror?”33 Apart from this, it was not easy for Mazdakites to imagine a single god without antagonist or peer. Why would, they asked, a god who is wise and content allow evil and ugliness to arise? If god preferred good to evil, what explains the superiority of the impious and the criminal in the world?34 If God is compassionate and merciful, why does he afflict mankind with ignorance, blindness, and heartlessness?35

Muslim scholars like Abū al-Hudhayl cAllāf and [Abū Isḥāq] Niẓām rightly and diligently met these objections in books of scholastic theology. The critiques found in the Shikandgumanik Vichār, nevertheless, are exemplary of debating points Mazdakites leveled against Islamic theologians early in the period of scholarly sparring between Mazdakites and Muslims. The leeway, unconcern, and tolerance that characterized al-Ma’mūn’s dealings with Mazdakites and members of other sects, gradually gave them the courage to criticize the Quran itself, and declare parts of it inconsistent and self-contradictory. One can see such objections, which are found in the Shikand-gumanik Vichār, as illustrative of the ways Iranians, in the light of logic and reason, conducted disputes against the Arabs. At one point the book states: “In their [the Muslims’] scripture there is this claim on the topic of heavenly reward [korfeh, thawāb ], which seems contradictory. It says, ‘Both reward and punishment are from me [God], and no evil spirit nor sorcerer can harm a person. None can accept faith nor do good but that I will it, and none can incline toward unbelief and fall into sin but that it be my wish.’” The same book often takes the tone of a complaint, cursing the Lord’s creatures for doing wrong and commiting sin…These things are His own will and doing. Despite this, He threatens people body and soul with the torments of hell as punishment for their sins and wrongs. In another place He says, “I myself lead people astray; for I can if I wished lead them on the right path, but it is my desire they go to hell.” But elsewhere in the book He says, “The people are responsible for their own wrongs and sins…”36 These illustrate what the Mazdakites argued to challenge Islamic theologians and prove the superiority of their faith. But the eloquence of the Muslim scholastic theologians acted like the sword of the Islamic warriors in lifting and countering such doubts. It put an end to the dialogues. The arguments, nevertheless, show that even with Islam at the height of its power and greatness, the Zoroastrian priests and clergymen found the opportunity to speak up and challenge the religion by adducing rational arguments. Though lacking proper foundation, these arguments speak of a battle between Iranians and Arabs joined in the light of leaning and reason. The Zoroastrian clergy’s arguments, however, were not solely directed at scholastic Muslim theologians, they also debated with Jews, Christians, Manichaeans, and even materialists [dahrīyān ]. Examples of these debates are also found in the Shikand-gumanik Vichār. They show that the Magians in the Islamic period were far from lax when it came to proselytizing their faith and approached the task with interest and energy.

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6 thoughts on “Excerpts from two translations of “Two Centuries of Silence” by Iranian Scholar Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub on the 200 Years of Mass Genocide of Iran under the Islamic Conquest and Colonization: The Most Forgotten Genocide in World History”

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First the Avid Kamgar translation:

Professor PAUL SPRACHMAN‘s Translation:

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6 thoughts on “Excerpts from two translations of “Two Centuries of Silence” by Iranian Scholar Abdolhossein Zarrinkoub on the 200 Years of Mass Genocide of Iran under the Islamic Conquest and Colonization: The Most Forgotten Genocide in World History”

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