‘They silenced our voices’;a genealogy of the linguistic othering of the Kurds in Iran

Introduction

First, in a confidential letter addressed to the Education Offices of all cities, the General Education and Training Office of Kermanshah Province announces the following: ‘With due respect, in order to enhance the proficiency of the standard language, uphold the official language of the country, and protect the rights of non-native students in the classrooms, it is advised that all colleagues be instructed to use Persian for teaching and conversation within the educational environment, while refraining from employing any regional dialects’ (December 2012 Appendix No. 1).

Second, in an official letter addressed to the General Director of the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance of Fars Province, the Public Facilities Supervision Office of the General Command of the Law Enforcement of Fars Province requests a review and consideration regarding the issuance of a license to use the word ‘Jina’ for naming a bed set guild unit. Eventually, the letter is forwarded to the appropriate expert, stating, ‘The Facilities Supervision Office should be informed that the use of this word is not possible as it is of non-Iranian, Kurdish origin’ (June 2013; See Appendix No. 2).

Third, regarding the recent achievement of a Kurdish mathematician, who changed his name from Fereydoun Derakhshani (Persian) to Caucher Birkar (Kurdish), the Vice President for Science and Technology of Iran, Sourena Sattari, acknowledges that ‘whether or not he wishes, Caucher Birkar is Feridun Derakhshani, who is and will be an inspiration for many young people in the country’. ¹

Fourth: On August 19, 2021, coinciding with the Day of Ashura, a group of Persian students removed all Kurdish words from the official boards of Kurdistan University. ²

‘How were our voices silenced?’ is the question that may have arisen among Kurds living in Iran, closely related to the four facts mentioned above. The first document explicitly prohibits the use of Kurdish, the native language of Kermanshah, in the school environment. The second document represents Kurdish as a non-Iranian language, leading to its exclusion from the public sphere. The third fact also signifies how the Kurdish elements are represented as external in the hegemonic discourse. After winning the Fields Medal, Caucher Birkar dedicated his award to the Kurds and changed his name to a Kurdish one, which sparked reactions in Iran. More often than not, changing one’s name from Persian to Kurdish is seen as separatist behavior and a betrayal of the homeland. The mathematician is expected to have an authentic identity tied to the Persian culture and language, and any disconnection, even in favor of the mother culture (Kurdish), is viewed as a form of betrayal. Finally, the fourth fact clearly illustrates the intolerance of the hegemonic discourse toward the presence of the Kurdish language in formal and public spheres. Generally, Kurdish, its orthography, and all its distinct components are seen as separatist elements in the discourse of ‘Iran’ (also see Soleimani and Mohammadpour, 2019: 929–930).

Such facts are highly evident in present-day Iranian society, constantly reminding us of the question raised by Alireza Asgharzadeh in Iran and the Challenge of Diversity, which has yet to meet a proper answer: Why is Kurdish, along with non-Iranian languages like Turkish, Turkmen and Arabic, subjected to exclusion despite being considered Iranian according to common linguistic definitions? (Asgharzadeh, 2007: 99, 161, 186). The question would be best answered in the context of the history of Persian nationalism. Drawing on Žižek’s Hegelian conceptualization of ideology (Žižek, 1994: 9), we can provide a historical account of the emergence of Persian nationalism in three forms: as the doctrine (a complex of ideas), as the ritual or the ideological state apparatuses, and in the spontaneous’ (self-) experience of subjects. It is believed that Persian nationalism can be traced back to the mid-19th century when Persian intellectuals began proposing nationalistic ideas (Vaziri, 2013: 163–165; Mara’shi, 2008: 57; Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 186). During this period, the Qajar dynasty was witnessing the rise of some forms of intellectuals’ shame of the country’s unsatisfactory condition (for example, see Kermani, 1986: 164, 165; Maraghe’ei, 1894: 67). The condition had been problematized for intellectuals because of traumatic events such as territorial loses due to Russo-Persian wars (Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 186), economic crisis leading to population migration to other countries, rumors about Iranian women being sold into forced prostitution (Kermani, 1967: 225; also see, Najmabadi, 1998) and, as Zia-Ebrahimi (2016b) has stated, “the traumatic discovery of the European Other” (pp. 19–27). These events prompted intellectuals to questions such as ‘why was the glorious past lost?’, and ‘how have European countries gotten the upper hand over us?’

In addressing the problem, intellectuals such as Jalal od-Din Mirza (1832–71), Mirza Aqa Khan Kermani (1854–1896), and Mirza Fatali Akhondzadeh (1812–1878) advocated for the resurrection of glorious ancient Persia and raised the idea of an imagined nation based on the Persian language (see Seidel, 2019: 334; Kia, 1998). This was an articulation of Persian nationalism as a doctrine, about which Cole (1996) has argued that ‘Iranian national identity was not prevalent, hence it was not needed to be symbolized, but an idea yet to be realized’ (p 37). However, it was through a series of events that Persian nationalism was materialized and its institutions and subjects were gradually constituted. As first-hand accounts indicate, it was around the Constitutional Revolution that a nationalistic slogan, i.e., ‘Long Live the Nation of Iran,’ was heard from a group of Persians in Tehran for the first time (Kermani, 1967: 124; also see, Abrahamian, 1979: 405). The Constitutional Revolution was followed by the establishment of national institutions, such as ‘the National Consultative Assembly’ and, a few decades later, the ‘modern-national state,’ which both universalized the Persian elements and excluded non-Persian ones (Bazafkan and Rezaei, 2020: 12). Vali (2011) argues that ‘although the Constitution of 1906 did not contain an ethnic definition of the conditions of citizenship, the exclusion of ethnic difference from the political process amounted to the denial of ethnic identity’ (p. 4). At the same time as the constitution of a modern state by the Pahlavi dynasty, Persian nationalism became hegemonic. Mohammadpour and Soleimani (2020) have explained how Persian nationalism was materialized: “Reza Shah’s accession to power with the motto, ‘One Nation, One Language, and One Country’ paved the political ground for materializing what Iranian intelligentsia had dreamed for decades” (p. 3). Despite claims by the ruling elites after the Islamic revolution that non-Persian ethnicities would not face nationalistic exclusion under an Islamist order, the state ideology remained nationalist (Elling, 2013: 4; also see Mohammadpour, 2023: 5). Indeed, the Pahlavis’ nationalist discourse had become so sedimented that hardly could be dislocated.

What is important to us is that Persian Nationalism and its ethnic exclusions became possible in the context of Iranologist discourses, at the heart of which were the projects of ‘the authentication of the Persian language’ and ‘the othering of non-Persian languages.’ This is the moment on which we shall focus, so that we can shed light on the linguistic othering of the Kurds.

‘How the Kurds were othered?’ A short glimpse

The issue of how the Kurds became marginalized is complex and multifaceted, and it is beyond the scope of this study to fully explore. However, it can be traced back to Naser al-Din Shah Qajar’s (1831–1896) remarks on the Kurds following Sheikh Ubeydullah’s revolt. At the same time as the problematization of the situation for Persian intellectuals, the revolt spread from Turkey to Iran, causing for the government and intellectuals about the potential separation of Kurdistan from Iran. ³ In response to the above-mentioned unsatisfactory status quo of the country, some regions of Kurdistan joined the uprising instead of seeking refuge in other countries. Naser al-Din Shah Qajar expressed surprise at the situation, claiming: ‘I never thought that the western Iranian Kurds, who have historically guarded the western borders, would do this. The Kurds have a long history of civility. I never expected the Kurds to act like the Turkmens in eastern Iran’ (October 11, 1988, as quoted by Mirza Aziz, 2000: 14). ⁴ Right at this moment, the indications of othering of the Kurds could be observed, in which the signifier ‘Kurd’ was related to other signifiers such as ’insurgent,’ ‘heretic,’ ‘Yazidi,’ ‘barbaric,’ ‘rebellious,’ and ‘uncivilized’ (Afshar, 2008: 45, 104, 105). After the suppression of Sheikh Ubeydullah’s revolt, Kurdistan was represented as a threat to state security. ⁵ This perception persisted even after the Persian Constitutional Revolution (1905-2906), leading to the the neglect of The Kurds’ demands in the Constitution and eroding their trust in the new order (see Azari-e Shahrezaei, 2006: 69, 127, 128, 232). In 1907, the Kurds opposed the Constitutional movement by supporting Salar al-Dawla (Mardukh Kurdistani, 1973: 283), and continued to struggle against the ethnic exclusion inscribed in Persian nationalism until the foundation of the modern state. All of these were used as justifications for demonizing the Kurds. ⁶ As the modern state took shape, linguistic assimilation became a strategy employed by Persian rulers and intellectuals to address the Kurdish problem, with an aim to eradicate Kurdish language and assimilate it into Persian. This national plan was implemented by the Pahlavi dynasty to ‘eradicate all languages besides Farsi by criminalizing their use and by destroying the minorities’ language schools’ (Mohammadpour, 2023: 186). Even after the 1979 Revolution, Kurdish ethnic and cultural distinctions were viewed as a threat to national security, resulting in restrictions on the use of Kurdish in official contexts (Mohammadpour and Soleymani, 2022: 193).

It is important to acknowledge that the Kurds have faced multidimensional exclusion, overdetermined by various factors such as ethnicity, language, religion and geography. However, one common aspect that all Kurds have experienced is linguistic exclusion, which its lineages can be traced back to Orientalist interventions.

Orientalism, Iranology and the linguistic othering of the Kurds

The systematic Orientalist studies appeared in the aftermath of the presence of Orientalists in the East during the colonial era, and were specifically influenced by the Aryan race superiority theory. The term ‘Aryan’ was borrowed by Anquetil-Duperron from Sanskrit and Avestan texts to refer to the people who had written the Avesta. However, the birth of the Aryan myth is attributed to Sir William Jones’ discovery in 1786, which claimed that Greek, Latin, Sanskrit, and Old Persian languages all shared common roots (Renfrew, 1989: 9; Vaziri, 2013: 219; Zia-Ebrahimi, 2016a: 108, 109). In 1813, Thomas Young coined the term ‘Indo-European’ to describe a group of related languages (Zia-Ebrahimi, 2016b: 11). These two signifier, ‘Aryan’ and ‘Indo-European’, became the nodal points of the Aryan discourse for the later Orientalists.

Initially, the ideas about the relationship between the Aryan race and the Indo-European languages were fictional and based on the correspondence between race and language. However, they later gained acceptance as scientific facts due to the intervention of Orientalists. ⁸ During this this time, history witnessed the emergence of discourses attempting to fill the empty signifier ‘Aryan’ by articulating different nodal points and constructing a single identity for different groups of people by setting them in a chain of equivalences. Therefore, the focus of racial studies shifted to the study of languages, particularly in search of the ancient roots of the similarities between Indo-European languages and original homeland of the Aryans (Renfrew, 1989: 13-14). Orientalists such as Duperron, Jones, and Herder believed that Iran was the original homeland (Rezaei-e Baghbidi, 2014: 28; Renfrew, 1989: 15; Zia-Ebrahimi, 2016a: 112). As a result, many excavations and studies were conducted by archaeologists in Iran to uncover signs of this original homeland and proto-language.

The approach of Iranologists, who were primarily focused on Iran rather than the broader Orient, differed significantly from that of Orientalists. Iranologists viewed the language, literature, and other aspects of Iranian culture as evidence of the advanced civilization of the Aryan race in the Eastern region, rather than considering them as inferior elements. The archaeological studies conducted during this time were aimed at providing scientific evidence for the Aryan myth. This process can be described as the “sciencization of myths,” which involved the interplay between Aryan mythology, linguistics, and archaeology (See,(Ansari, 2012): 8-12).

During the Qajar era, France and England competed for permission to conduct archaeological excavations in Iran. As Abdi has extensively discussed, each country had periods of dominance (Abdi, 2001: 51–76). In 1895, Nasser Eddin Shah granted exclusive excavation rights throughout Persia to French archaeologists. Prior to this, orientalists such as De Sacy from France, Baron Th. A. de Bode from Russia, and Austin H. Layard and Henry C. Rawlinson from England, as well as G. F. Grotefend from Germany, had conducted significant archaeological and linguistic studies on Iran’s history (Abdi, 2001: 53-54; also see Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 188). French monopoly over excavation continued until 1931 when American archaeologists caught the attention of Reza Shah, a few years after Arthur Upham Pope’s speech at the Society of National Heritage in Tehran. According to Mohammadpour, ‘Western archaeologists and Iranologists such as Pope, Herzfeld, Richard Frye, and Goddard, among others, having established close relationships with the Iranian authorities, molded archaeological records to fit the narrative of the “unified Iranian identity’” (Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 188). Thus, there was a state-sponsored archeology being raised in which the Pahlavi state hired European and American archeologists to

Provide evidence and epistemological legitimacy for the Persianization of Iran’s past...voice or silence the past selectively in favor of the state nationalist discourse, and excavate specific sites and translate all cultural and archaeological values into “the heritage” of the sovereign ethnie (i.e., Persians) (Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 185-186).

This trend continued into the second Pahlavi era, during which Mohammad Reza Shah hired a group of Iranologists to write a Persian nationalistic book titled The Legacy of Persia (1953). The book focused on reducing all of Iran’s legacy to Persian language and culture. This action can be seen as similar to the colonial encounter described by Soliman as “a ‘process’ during which the cultural diversity and heterogeneity of indigenous cultures are systematically and deliberately eliminated or silenced, imposing a single and univocal cultural identity” (as quoted by Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2022: 187). The articulation between “Persian language” and “the idea of Iran” became possible through the hegemony of two archaeological discourses that had emerged as a result of orientalists’ interventions in previous decades. The first discourse drew references from Sassanid tablets to construct the idea of Iran, allowing its articulation in a territorial discourse. In the second discourse, there was a linguistic connection between ‘Iran’ and ‘Persian’ signifiers. These two archeological moments facilitated the initial traces of the othering of the Kurds in the discourse of Iran.

The Naming Fallacy

The naming fallacy can be examined through Rawlinson’s arguments regarding the ancient Persian language. Only a few texts, Known as ‘Old Persian’ by Orientalists, have been preserved, with the most well-known being Bisotun Inscription (Cook, 1985: 208). The issue lies in the fact that while Darius had referred to his language as ‘Aryan’ and not ‘Persian’ (Cook, 1985: 208; Schwartz, 1985: 648; Oranski, 2000: 60), Rawlinson insisted on using the term ‘Old Persian’ (Rawlinson, 1867: 107). To understand the fallacious nature of this naming, it is important to notice that the phrase ‘Old Persian’ was popularized before the decoding of ancient texts, based on the speculative assumptions of early orientalists like Jones and Sir John Malcolm. Furthermore, while Iranologists acknowledge the existence of multiple languages in the region during ancient times, they insist on categorizing them all under a single label of Persian. ¹⁷

The same issue arises with the naming of Middle Persian. During this period, we encounter various languages that cannot be reduced to a single language or exclusively linked to one of the modern Iranian languages (Figure 1). In general, two prominent language groups existed during this time, each consisting of several distinct languages: the Arsacid Pahlavi and the Sassanian Pahlavi. Arsacid, Parthian Pahlavi, or Pahlavani are all names for one of the Mid-northwestern Iranian languages, with its orthography referred to as Pahlawānīg in a Manichaean text (Boyce, 1968: 40). In indigenous Arabic and later Persian historical texts, the common language before Islam is referred to as ‘Pahlavi’. (Oranski, 2000: 159; Boyce, 1968: 32). However, Iranologists chose to use the term ‘Middle Persian’ as the equivalent for the Arsacid Pahlavi and Sassanian Pahlavi languages, as well as all other languages of the period, in order to construct an imaginary narrative of the historical continuity of Persian as the essence of Iranian languages. ¹⁸ OPEN IN VIEWER

The appropriation fallacy

The fallacy of naming, which argues for the authenticity of the Persian language, is only one aspect of the issue. The other side, which is focused on the Persianization of the content of the old languages, is the fallacy of appropriation. The problem lies in the fact that while the old and middle Iranian languages can be seen as the predecessors of modern Iranian languages, there are significant morphological and syntactical differences ¹⁹ that make it unlikely to assume continuous connection between them. Instead, we are faced with distinct languages that were grouped together under the influence of power mechanisms. As previously mentioned, the language used in Achaemenid inscriptions is not referred to as Persian in the inscriptions themselves, nor does its content align with the Persian language. Therefore, labelling it as Persian is fallacious. Rawlinson highlighted certain words from the ‘Aryan’ language that clearly demonstrate its differences with the Persian language (Rawlinson, 1867, see Table 1).

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Table 1.

Comparison of Persian words with old Iranian languages.

English	Persian	Aryan
I was	Bōdam	Aham
He was	Bōd	Aha
They were	Bōdand	Aha
They become	Shodand	Ahata
I am	Hastam	Amiya
He may be	Momken ast bāshad	Ahatiya
He is	Hast	Astiya
We are	Hastam	Amahya
They are	Hastand	Hatiya
We	Mā	Vayam

Such differences are much more fundamental in terms of grammar and syntax than just the words themselves, making it difficult to imagine any continuity between these two languages. This is why most researchers who have conducted serious comparative studies on the relationship between the Achaemenid language and Persian have explicitly acknowledged significant discrepancies between the two. For instance, Cole (1996: 38) asserts that

The grammar of New Persian is greatly simplified from the near- Sanskrit of Old Persian and even from Pahlavi or Middle Persian. Moreover, over fifty percent of the vocabulary of modem Persian is Arabic in origin, so that it greatly differs, lexicographically, semantically and grammatically, from the languages spoken in Achaemenid times.

The disparities between Aryan and Persian are so notable that even Iranologists acknowledge that ‘Some details in historical phonetics and the system of pronouns demonstrate that Middle Persian is not a direct continuation of the dialect in which Old Persian was written’ (Oranski, 1999: 78).

However, the signifier “Persian” gradually became the nodal point of the linguistic discourse of Iran due to its repeated use by Iranologists. A nodal point that was projected from ‘now’ into ‘then’, shaping the narrative of Iran’s linguistic history (See Figure 2). In Figure 2, it is evident that there is no mention of a language called ‘Persian’ in antiquity. Instead, languages such as Median, Aryan, and Avestan, belonging to the Indo-Iranian family, coexisted with other languages like Elamite and Aramaic. As part of the effort to authenticate the Persian language, the signifier ‘Persian’ replaced ‘Aryan’ (third row of Figure 2) and was then articulated in differential relations with other signifiers ‘Avestan’ and ‘Median’ (second row of Figure 2). Finally, as it is evident in the upper part of the figure, the signifier ‘Persian’ was equated with all the other signifiers. Despite the scarcity of available texts in these languages, this plan was represented as a historical-scientific fact.OPEN IN VIEWER

The main problem is what happened to the signifier ‘Kurdish’ in the process of authentication of Persian. Therefore, to comprehend this process, we must analyze it within a contingent logic, alongside the ‘othering of the Kurdish language’. Following the contingent logic, the process of the ‘authentication of the Persian language’ was just one possibility among several that could have persisted, but were closed off during a historical process. Thus, in addition to exploring the connection between Persian and the Old languages, it is imperative to investigate the Kurdish possibility, allowing us to trace one of the lineages of othering of the Kurdish language.

It is important to note that there are significant differences between the Aryan language and the modern Iranian languages, to the point where the Aryan language could be considered a dead language. However, some phrases in the Bisotun inscription bear more resemblance to Kurdish than Persian. For example, in the inscription, Darius has used phrase such as ‘iyam mada’, ‘iyam parsa’ when referring to representatives of different countries (Oranski, 2000: 122). These phrases are more similar to the southern dialect of Kurdish, specifically ‘iya mada’, ‘iya parsa’, than any other language. Additionally, certain components of the Aryan language can only be found in Kurdish and not in Persian. One such example is the gender difference, both in pronouns and verbs, which is a feature of the Aryan language that exists only in Kurdish (Kurmanji and Zazaki dialects) and has no traces in Persian (Korn, 2019: 256). This is why Ely Bannister Soane (1909a, 895) argues that the Kurdish language (the Kurmanji dialect) ‘appears as a well-preserved old Persian tongue’.

Furthermore, as shown in Table 2, the similarities between the Kurdish language and Avestan are even more apparent. However, when deciphering Old languages, Kurdish did not receive the attention it deserved and was often completely disregarded. Instead, attempts were made to decode the Avestan language based on modern Persian, following the order of the authentication of the Persian language and excluding any claims of historical validity for other languages like Kurdish. Dolatshahi asserts in his research on Avestan texts that the Orientalists have translated them based on Persian, resulting in many mistakes in the meaning, dialects, and transcriptions of the words (1984, 8). His reflections demonstrate how the hegemony of the linguistic discourse of Iran was tied to the primacy of the Persian language and the exclusion of the Kurdish language. This Persian-oriented nationalist approach to reading Avestan texts has led to significant errors and false claims. For instance, the word Ēria is translated as Iran, even though it does not make much sense in the context. Dolatshahi (1984: 30) provides an example of its usage, ‘Wa Ēria Waw’, which can be translated as ‘that are here’ based on Kurdish. In any case, this focus on Persian in deciphering ancient languages served as a pretext for reducing all other languages to serve the myth of the authenticity of the Persian language, while downplaying the significance of the Kurdish language. Consequently, not only Aryan but also Avestan language was defined under the category of ‘Persian’ (See Renfrew, 1989: 46; Boyce, 1968: 33).

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Table 2.

Comparison of Kurdish and Persian with old Iranian languages. ²⁰

Aryan	Avestan	Kurdish	Persian	English
Adam	azǝm	Az	Man	I
Vāta	Vāta	Vā/wā	Bād	wind
	vačah	Wečah/večah	Vājeh	word
Dā-	Dā-	Dā-	Dād-	give
	Fra	Fra	Farāvān	Much/many
	až	až/ža	az	from
	Ashem	Eushem/aēžim	mi-goiam	I say
	Ērya	Ēra	Iynjā	here
	Fras	Fras	Zeyad ast	It is
	Hā	Hā	hast	Is/are
	dang	Dang	Sedā	voic
	eyškat	Eškaft/eškawt	Ghar	Cave
Hauva/avā		Hawa/awa/av	Ān	that
Iyam	aem	Iya	Iyn	This
	Bōt	Bō	Šod	became
	Māsiā	Māsi	Māhi	Fish
	wrāxa	Wark	barreh	Lamb
	Hāmin	Hāwin	tabestan	summer
	girtin	Girtin	gereftan	Hold
	darzi	Darzi	Sōzan	needle
	Maz	Mazen	Bozorg	Big

In addition to the evident divide between the Old and Middle Stages, there is also a notable rupture during the transition from the Middle Stage to the New languages that remained unresolved, despite the efforts of Iranologists. The fact is that the Arsacid Pahlavi and Sassanian Pahlavi languages differ significantly in content from modern Persian, to the extent that they cannot be regarded as a single language. Figure 3 illustrate how the Iranian languages of the Middle Stage were reduced to a single category related to the signifier ‘Persian’.

Figure 3 demonstrates how ‘Persian’ became a signifier for all Middle Iranian languages through a two-step process. Firstly, the signifier ‘Persian’, being in a differential relation with ‘Pahlavi’ which signified the Arsacid Pahlavi language, replaced the signifier ‘Sassanian Pahlavi’ (second row of the Figure). Then, secondly, all the Arsacid Pahlavi texts were also represented as manifestations of the ‘Persian’ language, so that the signifier ‘Pahlavi’ was substituted with ‘Persian’ (upper row of the Figure). This process resulted in the exclusion of other possibilities, such as the prominence of the Kurdish language as a significant Middle Iranian legacy. However, as indicated in Table 3, the Pahlavi language has left many words in the various dialects of Kurdish, while there are no traces of this words in Persian. ²¹ In terms of phonology, many phonemes found in Pahlavi and other ancient languages are still present in Kurdish but not in Persian (See Keyvan, 1966).OPEN IN VIEWER

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Table 3.

Comparison of Kurdish and Persian words with the Pahlavi language. ²²

Pahlavi (sasanian)	Kurdish	Persian	English	Pahlavi (sasanian)	Kurdish	Persian	English
Mazg	Mazg	Maghz	Brain	Wāt	Vā/wā	Bād	Wind
Mazgit	Mazgit/mizgawt	masjid	Mosque	Gōz	Gwēz	Gerdu	Walnut
Sōr	Sōr	Šōr	Salty	Freh	Frah	Farāvān	Much, more
Šānag	Šānig	Šāneh	Comb	Frazānag	Frazān	Farzaneh	Wise
Tēx	Tēx	Tīg	Sharp edge	Abāy	abē	Bāyad	Must
Tōz	Tōk	Pōst	Skin	Ādur/āgir	Āgir	Ātas	Fire
Wahār	wahār	Bahār	Spring	Ars	asr	Ashk	Tear
Warān	warān	Ghōch	Ram	Az	az	Man	i
Wārān	wārān	Bārān	Rain	Bālēn/bāliš	Bālēnj	Bālišt	pillow
Warāz	warāz	Gorāz	Boar	Bē	Bē	Joz	Except
Wāz-	Wāz girtin	parīdan	Fly	Brin	Brin	Boridan	Cut
Wāzīg	Wāzī	Bāzī	Game	Dālman	Dāl	Karkas	Lammergeyer
Wīr	Wīr/bīr	Yād	Memory/mind	Dēw	Dēw	Div	Evil
Wišād	wišā	Gošād	Loose	Drō	Drō	Dorōgh	Lie
waxšēg	waxšēg	Baxšad	She/he forgives	Drōzan	Drōzen	Dorōgh-gu	Liar
Xānag	Xānig	Xāneh	House	Ēbārag	Ēwāra	Asr	Evening
Zuwān/uzwān	Zuwān	Zabān	Tongue/language	Ēg	ēgil/ēg	Sepas	Then
Pad	Pē	Bē/bā/hamrāh	To/with	Ēmēd	Emēd	Omid	Hope
aēžim	aēžim/ēžim	Mī-gōīam	I say	Ēran	Ēran	Iran	Iran
Kād	Kāt	Zaman/hengām	time	Jār	Jār	Bār	Time
mulwīčik	malōčik	gonješk	Sparrow	Juxt	Jaxt	Joft	Pair
Bašn	bajn	Ghāmat	gesture	Kanig	kanišg	Doxtar	Girl
Bōn	Bōn	šodan	becoming	Kē	Kē	Kei	Who
Rōn	Rōn	rawghan	Oil	Kēr	Kēr	Keir	Penis
xwaramen	xwarinam	Mara mixorand	[They] eat me	Kilēl	Kilīl	Kilīd	Key
žanend	žanen	Mī-navāzand (sāz)	Playing (music)	Kiš	Kir	Xat	Line
ayāne	ayāna	Īynhā	These	Koštan	koštin	Zadan	Beat
wāxt	wet	Goft	(she/he) said	Mān	Māl	Xāneh	House
Mazg	Mazg	Magz	Brain	Māndag	Māndu	Xasteh	Tierd

As mentioned earlier, Arsacid Pahlavi’s texts were also associated with the ‘Persian’ nodal point. For instance, the Assyrian Tree and the Goat, despite being significantly different from the Sassanian Pahlavi texts, has always been considered a manifestation of the Persian language (Boyce, 1968: 55; Oranski, 2000: 171). However, as Osoulian (2019: 7) argues, the Assyrian Tree and the Goat is actually consistent with modern Kurdish, and Iranologists’ attempts to interpret it based on Persian have often led to misunderstandings.

There are words in the text that have equivalents in Kurdish, but interpreters have chosen incorrect equivalents due to their unfamiliarity with Kurdish and their insistence on Persian. ²³ It should be noted that whenever the interpreters encountered a word that did not fit with the Persian language, they would remove it from the text and replace it with a Persian word. The Middle-Stage texts had certain features that allowed for interpretation not just through deciphering but also through reconstruction of the writing format. This made them susceptible to distortion, resulting in manipulation and distortion of the original texts based on Persian words. ²⁴ For example, the interpreters used Persian words like ‘Khuk’ (pig), ‘Hasteh’ (core), and ‘Sokhan’ (speech) instead of the Kurdish words ‘waraz’, ‘Dan’, and ‘Qesah’ found in the text (Osoulian, 2019: 32). With such distortions, the Assyrian Tree and the Goat, which is most closely related to Kurdish today, was falsely represented as evidence of the presence of the Persian language in the Middle Stage.

Therefore, the representation of Persian as the essence of all Iranian languages, and the exclusion of similarities between Kurdish and the Old and Middle Iranian languages were based on two fallacies: naming and appropriation. The article does not aim to prove the authenticity of the Kurdish language instead of Persian, but rather to illustrate the contingency of the authenticity of the Persian language by exploring alternative possibilities that were disregarded in practice. It is important to note that Orientalists approached the Persian-speaking and Kurdish-speaking people within a dualistic and distinct logical framework. The Persians were represented based on an Iranological logic, while the Kurds were portrayed through an Orientalist logic. Persian, as the language of power, was recognized as the true inheritor of Aryan languages, whereas Kurdish was considered an insignificant dialect with little value for examination. Despite having a reach literary heritage, Kurdish failed to attract Orientalists attention due to its lack of political power and the tribal and nomadic nature of Kurdish society. ²⁵ Orientalists represented Kurdish people with reference to characteristics such as savagery, banditry, looting and primitiveness (For example, see Grant, 1841: 21–24), without any attention to Kurdish language and its highly diverse dialects. They either regarded it as a dialect of Persian or deemed it unworthy of study (For example, see Soane, 1909b). Even the few articles on Kurdish and its authenticity published by Kurdologists were marginalized and did not contribute to the emergence of an alternative nodal point for the re-articulation of Iranology discourse. Consequently, the signifier ‘Persian’, supported by political power and influential movements, was articulated as the nodal point of various hegemonic discourses, while alternatives associated with Kurdish failed to attain a similar position. This led to the creation of the myth of Persian language authenticity. Iranologists attributed all the linguistic and literary heritage of the Iranian plateau to Persian, considering it the only authentic language (Bailey, 1953). As a result of this dual position, where Iranologist emphasized Persian and Orientalists disregarded Kurdish, Persian language dominance as the sole valid language of all Iranians.

Conclusion

Due to the sedimentation of nationalist and linguistic significations in the signifier ‘Iran,’ the field of discursivity was organized in a way that subsequent events became meaningful in its context, and the challenge of alternative discourses was how to articulate its elements. As a result of the articulation of nodal points ‘Iran’ and ‘Persian’, the non-Persian languages such as Kurdish and Luri were marginalized and there appeared a historical silence around Kurdish. The signifier ‘Kurdish’ was also marginalized by the Orientalist discourse, being articulated with signifiers such as militancy, savagery, brutality, and primitiveness (see Karimi, 2017). Under the hegemony of the myth of Persian authenticity, any insistence on Kurdish particularity, including Kurdish orthography or names, were considered deviation from Iranianness, and even the betrayal of the homeland. This can be observed in actions such as banning the use of Kurdish in schools, prohibiting the choice of Kurdish names for business units, and even the destruction of Kurdish boards in Kurdistan University (See the aforementioned facts at the beginning of this article).

Generally, in contemporary Iran, Persian nationalism has remained dominant and is closely intertwined with Shiite religious tradition. The hegemony of this discourse has resulted in the ethnic-religious exclusion of the Kurds. It is important to note that more than half of the Kurdish people in Iran belong religious minorities, such as Sunni and Ahl-e Hagh. Therefore, they have been experiencing a kind of ‘double exclusion’ due to being under the governance of Persian nationalism.

In addition, the Kurds’ voices are still being silenced, making it difficult for them to write their own history and live their lives according to the Kurdish identity. For instance, limitations on archaeological excavations at Kurdistan sites further restrict their ability to explore their heritage. In recent decades, as Mohammadpour and Soleimani (2022) have argued, the Iranian state has prohibited excavations that challenge the Aryan-Persian narrative of history (pp. 193–196). Additionally, the Kurds are denied their right to education in their own language and face restrictions on naming their children, geographical places, and trade units in Kurdish.

However, as Foucault pointed out, “where there is power, there is resistance” (95). So, where does the resistance of the Kurds lie? Alongside the historical movements led by Kurdish leaders such as Simko (1918–1829) and Qazi Mohammad, there are various forms of linguistic resistance that exist in the everyday lives of Kurds. Despite the challenges faced by Kurds in Iran, there are NGOs like Nozhin that unofficially teach Kurdish, Journals and presses that publish Kurdish literature, parents who choose Kurdish names for their children, and children who adopt unofficial secondary Kurdish names when their parents face difficulties due to unwritten laws (see Mohammadpour and Soleimani, 2020: 15). The latter example can be seen as a form of resistance that can be referred to as ‘the war on naming’, where two competing discourses vie to define the rules of ‘good naming’ and ‘bad naming’. According to the discourse of Iran, ‘good naming’ entails selecting Persian names over ‘bad’ non-Persian ones. However, in the discourse of resistance, the dichotomy of good/bad itself is challenged and replaced with plural democratic principles of ‘naming’. In other words, naming should be viewed as a context-based process where names are chosen from the native languages of ethnic minorities rather than the Persian language. This ‘war on naming’, as a part of the lives and resistance of non-Persian peoples in Iran, can shed light on an aspect of recent ‘Jina’ movement.

‘Jina’ was one of those children who chose a secondary, unofficial Kurdish name for herself instead of the Persian name ‘Mahsa’ that her parents had given her (also see Mohammadpour, 2023: 2). Her death became a symbol for a movement against various forms of oppression including sexism, classism, ethnic discrimination, racism, and religious intolerance. This movement truly represented subalterns, but it was also tainted by elements of ‘subalterns’ fascism’, which threatened to divert the movement from its democratic objectives. Consequently, the movement became a battleground between two antagonistic camps vying to name ‘the girl’ and appropriate the movement’s nodal points. On one side, there was the resistance camp that named the girl in her own language, ‘Jina’, and appropriate the nodal points in Kurdish: ‘Jin’ [woman], ‘Jiyan’ [Life], ‘Azadi’ [Freedom]. On the other side, there was the Iranian camp that insisted on using the Persian name ‘Mahsa’ and the Persian equivalents of the nodal points: ‘Zan, Zendegi, Azadi’. The former camp emerged through the construction of an equivalent chain between various groups, including ethnic minorities like Kurds, Balochs, Gilaks, Arabs, and Turks, non-Persian women, religious minorities, and some Persian leftists. What united these groups was the shared desire to disarticulate the patriarchal, Persian nationalism. In response to this position, the Iranian camp was formed, consisting of Persian people, a few assimilated ethnic peoples, monarchists, and Persian feminists. What brought these groups together was the fear of various forms of separatism, which led to the resurgence of patriarchal Persian nationalism. As a result, this camp emphasized the conservative nodal points, namely ‘Man, Homeland, Prosperity’, instead of the revolutionary ones, ‘Woman, Life, Freedom’.

While the Mahsa camp seeks to reproduce Persian nationalism in a monarchical form and, in a Lacanian word, essentially desires a new master. On the other side, the resistance Jina camp, inspired by the Kurdish motto ‘Woman, Life, Freedom,’ aims to reject all forms of master/slave relations. This rejection is also reflected in the Baloch people’s slogan: ‘although there are many dangers in freedom, we prefer [it] to slavery’. That is why Slavoj Žižek has pointed out to all Iranians that ‘Without freedom for the Kurdish people, the majority of Iranians will not be free.’ However, we must ask, free from what? It is crucial to understand that the signifier freedom gains its meaning in opposition to Persian, patriarchal, nationalism, which has perpetuated itself in various forms since the Constitutional revolution. Therefore, true freedom can only be achieved through the agnostic deconstruction of this form of nationalism.