The Legacy of Anti-Culture, Anti-Handicrafts, and Anti-Tourism in Iran

The Islamic regime’s 'Cultural Heritage, Handicrafts, and Tourism Organisation' has announced that its head, deputies, senior managements, and certain experts and staff members visited Khomeini's grave yesterday morning to 'renew their allegiance' to his ideologues.

 

First and foremost, it is a universally accepted principle that institutions entrusted with the preservation of a nation's historical and cultural heritage must operate with scientific precision, administrative neutrality, and professional expertise. Such institutions, whether museums, archaeological organisations, or heritage conservation bodies, are inherently apolitical, with responsibilities that transcend fleeting ideological agendas. This principle holds particular significance in nations with millennia-old civilisations, such as Iran, one of the few cradles of human civilisation, which has made immense contributions to the evolution of art, architecture, literature, and philosophy. Therefore, it is self-evident that the management of Iran's cultural heritage necessitates leadership with demonstrable expertise in fields such as archaeology, history, or conservation, rather than individuals appointed solely based on political or ideological affiliations.

 

To grasp the gravity of this issue, one may compare it to other analogous domains. Just as a surgeon's proficiency is indispensable for managing a hospital, or an urban planner's expertise is critical for city development, so too must cultural heritage institutions be led by specialists in their field. The absurdity of appointing unqualified individuals to such positions is glaring: a butcher cannot oversee complex surgical procedures; a street cleaner lacks the strategic vision required for municipal governance; and a convicted financial fraudster cannot be entrusted with the management of a banking system. These examples underscore a fundamental tenet in all reputable institutions: 'Competence must prevail over cronyism.' Regrettably, however, sermonisers devoid of political literacy and cultural awareness, whose entire intellectual and ideological framework is rooted in base instincts, have ascended to the ranks of statesmanship and governance. Likewise, since the engineered revolution of 1979, the institution responsible for safeguarding Iran’s cultural heritage has been plagued by such paradoxical appointments, an unmistakable indication of the systemic disregard for meritocracy in the 'cleric-ridden Iran.' Many individuals within this organisation, lacking formal training in relevant disciplines, have prioritised ideological loyalty over the preservation of Iran’s heritage, whether pre-Islamic or Islamic. The consequence of this policy has been the appointment of individuals with no background in archaeology, museology, or historiography to key positions within the cultural heritage organisation, an approach as illogical as entrusting a bank’s security to a professional thief.

 

in fact, the Islamic regime, whose narrative is built upon hostility towards the Pahlavi era and the nationalism of its two monarchs, frequently treats Iran’s cultural heritage, of which Reza Shah the Great and Mohammad Reza Shah saw themselves as revivers and protectors, as a battleground for its destruction and the imposition of its own regressive and anti-Iranian ideology. Historical sites such as Persepolis and Pasargadae, historical figures like Cyrus the Great and Ferdowsi, manuscripts such as the Shahnameh, and other archaeological treasures like Bisotun, Taq-e Bostan, and Naqsh-e Rustam, which do not conform to the official narrative of the regime, have been subject to neglect, modification, or even deliberate destruction, a pattern documented in reports by UNESCO and other heritage monitoring bodies. This destructive and anti-Iranian policy is set to persist until the complete transformation of Iran into 'Irānestān' (meaning ‘fragmented Iran’ or the Balkanised Iran).

 

Consequently, the subjugation of Iran’s cultural heritage institution to political interests constitutes a profound betrayal, not only of the national heritage of the Iranian people but also of global heritage. Just as hospitals require physicians and banks require financial experts, the management of cultural heritage demands leaders with both theoretical and practical mastery of the field. Until the Islamic regime and its clerical rulers align with this universal principle, Iran’s status as the guardian of one of the world’s oldest civilisations will continue to suffer irreparable degradation.

 

Another crucial issue is the so-called 'renewal of allegiance' by these individuals to Khomeini, an individual who, throughout his lifetime, harboured deep-seated hatred and publicly rejected Iran’s national heritage, its people, culture, civilisation, history, and achievements. This act of allegiance and the accompanying photographs beneath such banners not only reveal the ideological underpinnings of the officials in charge of Iran’s cultural heritage but also expose their ultimate agenda and the regime’s blueprint for Iran’s future.

 

 

The Degradation of the National and Official Language and the Prioritisation of Arabic

A glance at the signboard under which these officials and authorities, some of whom wear Arabic cloaks, have gathered for a photograph not only reveals the depth of the catastrophe engulfing Iran’s cultural heritage, handicrafts, and tourism but also sheds light on the future of this institution.

 

Above the heads of these individuals, who refer to themselves as 'Maktabi' (ideological adherents), a multilingual sign displays a quote from Khomeini: 'We share in the sorrow of all the oppressed people of the world, and we support all the oppressed of the world.' This inscription appears in three languages: Arabic, English, and Persian. However, the most troubling aspect is the order in which these languages are presented, a hierarchy that carries profound and controversial implications. Arabic occupies the first position, English the second, and Persian, the national and official language of Iran, the third. This ranking is neither incidental nor innotable; rather, it reflects the Islamic Rregime's deliberate preference for Arabic over Iran’s millennia-old linguistic heritage. Such a configuration, which effectively demotes the country’s national language beneath two foreign tongues, is an anomaly seen nowhere else in the world except in the Islamised Iran.

 

The roots of this phenomenon can be traced to statements by Khomeini and other regime leaders:

 

- Ruhollah Khomeini: 'Do not say that Arabic is not our language. Arabic is the language of Islam, and Islam belongs to everyone. Until our writers rid themselves of this trap, until our books are purged [of Persian words], and until our streets are stripped of their [Persian] names, we cannot achieve independence.'

 

- Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani: '…We believe that the future [language] is Arabic, not Persian… and the day when the global Islamic government is established, there will be no place for any language other than Arabic.'

 

- Mir-Hossein Mousavi, Khomeini’s favoured prime minister: '…The celebration of Ferdowsi’s millennium in 1934 and the purification of Persian from Arabic words, carried out on the basis of nationalism, was a Western conspiracy to destroy Islam.'

 

The implicit marginalisation of Persian is particularly striking given its historical and cultural significance. As the language of classical poetry, literature, and Iran’s pre-Islamic identity, Persian has played a central role in shaping Iranian national consciousness for over a thousand years. In contrast, the regime’s prioritisation of Arabic, a language unfamiliar to the vast majority of Iranians, underscores its ideological commitment to a foreign identity at the expense of Iran’s indigenous cultural sovereignty. In other words, this linguistic order reflects not only the regime’s internal mindset but also its broader worldview. Since 1979, the Islamic regime has attempted not only to redefine Iranian identity through the lens of Shiite orthodoxy but also to replace it with an imposed Arabic identity.

 

On a global scale, such denigration of a national language is inconceivable. France, for instance, legally recognises French as the sole official language and strictly limits the intrusion of foreign languages into public life. Similarly, post-colonial nations, despite their histories of linguistic imperialism, often reclaim and elevate their native languages as symbols of regained independence. Yet the Islamic Regime reverses this norm, revealing a stark contradiction: in practice, it fosters cultural subservience to Arabic, the language of Quranic exegesis and clerical authority. This policy not only weakens Persian institutionally but also signifies the regime’s fusion of religious and national identity in its official discourse.

 

Thus, this signboard is far more than a mere example of multilingualism; it is emblematic of the regime’s broader cultural policies. The diminished status of Persian in this inscription clearly illustrates the regime’s dual approach to Iran’s heritage: the deliberate sanctification of its political ideology at the expense of Iranian cultural identity. This stance stands in stark contrast to a nation that, increasingly, is displaying a quiet resistance by reclaiming its linguistic and cultural identity.

 

 

Conclusion

The systematic erosion of Iran’s cultural heritage and linguistic identity under the Islamic Regime’s ideological regime is not merely an administrative failure, it is a calculated assault on the essence of Iranian civilisation. By subordinating institutions like the Cultural Heritage, Handicrafts, and Tourism Organisation to political dogma, the regime has weaponised neglect, rewriting history to align with its anti-Iranian narrative. The prioritisation of Arabic over Persian, a language woven into Iran’s literary, historical, and national fabric for millennia, epitomises this cultural betrayal. It reflects a regime determined to supplant Iran’s rich, pluralistic identity with a homogenised, foreign orthodoxy, one that views Persian heritage as a threat to its ideological supremacy.

 

The photographs of officials renewing allegiance to Khomeini’s grave, beneath banners demoting Persian beneath Arabic, are more than symbolic gestures. They are stark reminders of the regime’s ultimate vision: to sever Iran from its pre-Islamic and national legacy, reducing it to a hollow vessel for clerical authority. The deliberate degradation of Persepolis, the marginalisation of figures like Cyrus and Ferdowsi, and the institutional sidelining of Persian all serve a singular goal, to erase the pillars of Iranian identity and replace them with a manufactured, Islamist narrative.

 

Regrettably, the silence of the Iranian people in the face of the regime’s assaults on their identity, history, culture, and nationality does not bode well for the future of the country, themselves, or their children. Cultural annihilation thrives in the absence of collective resistance. Every neglected archaeological site, every Persian word purged from public discourse, and every ideological appointee mismanaging Iran’s heritage accelerates the transformation of a 7,000-year-old civilisation into “Irānestān”, a fragmented Iran, stripped of its unity, disconnection from its past and an end to the Iranian nation after 7,000 years of history.

 

The path forward demands more than passive endurance. It requires reclaiming the narrative of Iranian identity, challenging the regime’s anti-cultural edicts, and insisting that expertise, not ideological fealty, guide the stewardship of Iran’s heritage. Until then, the Islamic Regime’s war on Persian language and culture will continue unabated, leaving future generations to inherit a diminished nation, severed from the very roots that once made it a beacon of human civilisation. The choice is stark: silence today ensures oblivion tomorrow.