On Whose Side Is God?

The Wrong Question About Barbarians

Omar’s excellent piece raises the question of barbarians. I want to raise a harder one: whose side is God on? I ask this not as theology but as military analysis. Because the planners of Operation Epic Fury appear to have assumed the answer is obvious; and that assumption may be the central miscalculation of this war.

Isfahan: A Rich History and Unique Tourist Attractions - Persis Collection
Barbanians

The Pahlavist Map of Iran

The Pahlavists who helped guide this operation are, broadly speaking, secular liberals. Their Iran is Tehran’s northern suburbs, Los Angeles, Paris. Their model of the enemy is a man like themselves: attached to life, afraid of death, protecting assets and family and position.

Rational actors in the economic sense. You remove the leader, you remove the fear, the system collapses. This is a coherent theory of change. It just happens to be wrong about the specific civilization it was applied to.

Iran faces a pivotal moment. Can a tired regime contain a fresh wave of ...
Pretender to the Peacock Throne

The Gift of Martyrdom

Shia Islam is not organised around the fear of death. It is organised around the embrace of honourable death as the supreme spiritual achievement. Karbala is not a trauma to be processed; it is a template to be repeated. Husayn did not miscalculate when he rode into the plain knowing Yazid’s army outnumbered him. He made a theological choice.

The willingness to die without surrendering is not a bug in the Shia operating system. It is the entire point of the operating system. When you assassinate a Supreme Leader who has spent forty years framing his rule in exactly these terms, you do not break the system. You hand it the most powerful gift available: a martyr. Khamenei is now Husayn. The Americans gave him that.

Ashura Mourning Procession in Karbala, Iraq by students. - Islamic ...
Yá Husayn

On Sky Gods and the Human Spirit Continue reading On Whose Side Is God?

Open Thread: From Flattery to Fatigue — What the Iranian Diaspora Can’t Admit

On July 14, I wrote about Ta’arof ; the millennia-old Persian art of flattery, refusal, and ritualised courtesy. It’s often misunderstood in the West as “saying no three times,” but it’s really about emotional high-context negotiation, reading the room before the room speaks.

The next day, on July 15, Sharghzadeh posted a powerful video, calling it Iranian Diaspora Fatigue. A searing takedown of the Iranian Diaspora’s toxic racial insecurities, internalised Islamophobia, misogyny masked as modernity, and cultural denialism. He’s mostly right.

What he calls fatigue, I’d call poisoned flattery turned inward. Because Tehranglos are no longer performing Ta’arof to honour guests or elders. They’re doing it to whiteness itself. Hoping if they refuse our own identity long enough, maybe the West will say: “Yes, come in.”

That’s not assimilation. That’s exhaustion. And the worst part? Even the racism feels borrowed; against Arabs, against Afghans, against Iranians back home. It’s not even Iranian. This isn’t just about cringe TikToks or awkward panel guests. It’s about who gets to narrate Persian culture. And what gets flattened when tradition becomes product. I was stunned when Zachary Newman — one of the most prominent Persian-Jewish American chefs — endorsed Netanyahu’s strikes on Iran. That moment crystallised something.

Sharghzadeh and I are saying the same thing: Persian culture is being gentrified by its own children. What survives isn’t tradition. It’s content. It’s vibes. If Iran is an unreadable poem, diaspora is turning it into a slogan. If Iran is lived, diaspora is increasingly just captioned. And they wonder why they’re tired. Is the Persian diaspora preserving a culture, or just performing it for the algorithm?

Ta’arof & The Art of Flattery

 

Because Tarof isn’t about numerical formulae. It’s not just “no means yes after the third try.” It’s not a knock-knock joke.

Onunchi, Ta’arof, and High-Context Societies

Tarof is best understood as high-context negotiation within deeply hierarchical and emotionally attuned societies; a kind of cultural Onunchi (온눈치), for those familiar with Korean sociolinguistics. It’s the art of reading the room before the room speaks. More than etiquette, Tarof is a performance of dignity through flattery, deferral, and intuition.
And that’s precisely what’s being lost; not just in Rainn’s version, but in the Westernisation of diasporic Persian culture more broadly.

 

Read More Here

Brown Pundits