The objective of this paper is to describe cultural improvisations on the theme of temporary marriage, mut'a (sigheh in colloquial Persian) in Iran; I wish to bring to light the relationship between the law of the institution of temporary marriage, and certain common motifs of behavior of the Iranian people. I do not presume that the following is an exhaustive compilation of such improvisations; rather, it consists of those that I have been able to identify. While the terminology used is partly mine and partly indigenous, the descriptions of sigheh variations is entirely indingenous.

In The Jews of Islam, a recent attempt at evaluating the history of the Jews in Muslim lands, Bernard Lewis makes several references to the fact that Jewish experience in Shi'i lands, particularly in Iran, differed substantially from that of Sunni lands. He points out that Iranian Jews were more persecuted and, on several occasions, were even forced to convert. Yet, aside from mentioning some of the conventional reasons for these differences such as the Shi'i concept of najasa (ritual impurity), he does not dwell on the experiences of Iranian Jewry at length. This is partly on account of the scarcity of reliable sources before the Safavid period and partly because the accessible sources from the Safavid period and later are still in need of close analysis.

Iran's rich repertoire of narrative literature of oral origin, ranging from single-scene situation comedy through fairytale to the lengthy heroic epic, can certainly be appreciated for its intrinsic literary merits and entertainment value. Both compilers and patrons, however, of what are in effect folktale collections, have from ancient times adopted a utilitarian attitude to their material, a classic instance being the political science course that King Dabshalim (or Devasarma) took from Professor Bidpai in the form of animal fables. In one form or another, the practical autocrat and his obliging philosopher have continued to vet Persian literature through the centuries, insisting that myth and folktale be used as parables to leaven works ostensibly of devotional or moral instruction (as of Rumi or Sa'di) or of historical narrative.

Since the Iranian Revolution, Soviet writers have evidenced two general perceptions of that phenomenon. On the one hand, they perceive it as an anti-imperialist movement motivated by desires for socioeconomic development free of capitalist fetters. On the other hand, they cannot easily fit this revolution into the general theory of social change that is to be found in writings dating from Lenin and Stalin to more contemporary doctrines of the National Democratic State and the Revolutionary Democratic State.

This paper assesses the Soviet image of the Iranian Revolution by comparing and contrasting the arguments adopted by such theoreticians as Primakov, Stepaniants, Demchenko, Ulianovskii, Zagvozdkina, Vasil'ev, Timofeev, Nikol'skii, Trubetskoi, and others. They have tried to clarify the differences between what they term Islamic “orthodoxy” (fundamentalism), Islamic “reformism,” and Islamic “modernism.” In their view, the classification scheme is based on two factors: (1) the linkage of the movement to Islamic dogma; (2) the class basis of the movement.

Ali Shariati was born in Azar 2, 1312 (November 23, 1933) to a deeply religious family in the provincial capital of Khurasan, Meshed. His forefathers were all important local religious scholars in the suburb of Sabzavar, one of whom, Allamah Mahmanabadi, received a royal invitation from Naser al-din (1848-1896) to move to Tehran to teach Islamic philosophy in Sepahsalar theological center, which he did for a short period. His father, Muhammad Taqi Shariati, still living, is a well-known religious scholar of national fame and an expert on Quranic exegesis. Muhammad Taqi broke two traditions: he moved to the city for good at the age of 20 and he stopped weaving, as he had been the traditional garb of the ulama. Ali attended modern schools, entered Teachers Training College, the newly founded University of Meshed, and finally left for Paris to study at the Sorbonne on a government scholarship.

The colonization of the Muslim lands and the increasing political and commercial influence of the Christian West during the last 200 years shocked Muslim leaders. In response to the agonizing problems that increasing incursion by the West brought to the Muslim lands, there arose three groups of intellectuals. The traditionalists believed that the situation was transitory and that traditional Islam would eventually triumph. The ultramodernists sought salvation through uncritical and wholesale imitation of the West.

Among the prominent advocates of this last approach one can count Afghani, Abduh, Gokalp, Iqbal, and probably Kasravi, the Iranian social reformist. Kasravi seems to stand out among them in two important respects. First, unlike his predecessors, he formulated his ideas in a systematic way, tracing “problems” to their roots and advocating explicit “remedies.” Second, Kasravi never shifted strategy to suit the occasion as did his predecessors who, by so doing, confused their followers.

When Dihkhuda published his poem Inshallah gurbah ast (“God willing, it's a cat”) in 1933, he created quite a stir in Iranian literary circles. The great scholar Muhammad Qazvini, for example, was inspired to call the poem “without a doubt one of the masterpieces of modern literature.” Even a poem of lesser quality, however, would have been the cause of some wonderment, for Dihkhuda's pen had been silent for nearly fifteen years. After transforming Persian prose during the Constitutional Revolution of 1905 with his column Charand parand (Chit-Chat), Dihkhuda gave up writing satirical social commentary in the tumult and disillusionment of the First World War. While sitting out the war in the mountains southwest of Isfahan, Dihkhuda occupied himself with the only book he had available—a Larousse French Dictionary.

It is difficult to say something new about Nowruz. It is a national festival, and everyone knows what a national festival is. Nowruz takes place and is spoken of every year. Much has been told and much you have heard. Then is repetition appropriate?! Yes it is! Doesn't Nowruz repeat itself? Then you should attend to what is repeatedly said of Nowruz. In science and literature, repetition is boring and useless.

Only three out of her 36 short stories are available in English (two translated by the writer herself), and yet Simin Daneshvar (b. 1921) is Iran's first woman novelist and one of the country's most significant fiction writers. Daneshvar has published Savooshoon (the most popular Iranian novel), three collections of short stories, ten translations, and a memoir about her late husband, Jalal Al-e Ahmad. Having retired from her teaching position at Tehran University, she lives in Iran and is now working on her second novel, The Wandering Island.

Daneshvar's literary work is a celebration of the feminine—her taste for life and love, her art of endurance and strength. While most of her female characters manage to survive, none reveals such stamina or resilience as the narrator of Jalal's Sunset. Confronted with the unexpected death of a husband, a colleague, and a collaborator, Daneshvar in this text portrays a real survivor.

Farideh Fardjam (b. 1935) is an accomplished Iranian playwright. After receiving her early education in Iran, she spent several years studying in France. She then returned to Iran and obtained her B.A. degree in Persian literature from the University of Tehran.

Fardjam has been writing plays since 1961. Her interests also center on children's stories. Ten of her stories on traditional Iranian themes have already been published. Fardjam has been living in Amsterdam since the early 1970s where she has been active in the public relations division of the Dutch Radio and Television. She has prepared several documentary films including a film on Iranian women during the revolution.

The Bride has been produced and shown in both Iran and the United States. The play was shown on the Iranian television in the early 1960s with a noted cast that included Khorvash, Safavi, Nasirian, and Entezami.

This article is actually an outline of history of anthropology in Iran. In part, it traces the development of the field and the problems that some of its practitioners have been endeavoring to overcome. In part, it recounts some of the experiences of the author and the frustrations she and others encountered in trying to broaden the scope of the permissible range of study of anthropology.