Cultural Revolution: It is Time to ‌Balance the Books!

Dr. Paivandi, thank you for accepting our magazine’s interview. Could you please introduce your areas of study and research to our readers?

My academic work is intertwined with my personal life journey and the state of Iranian society. My bachelor’s thesis in 1978 was on 19th-century social movements and the Babi movement with Professor Adibi, who immigrated to Australia after the Cultural Revolution. For my master’s, I worked with Professor Bagher Parham on cultural movements in Iran in medieval times and Mulla Sadra.^[2]Mulla Sadra (1571-1640): A Muslim philosopher excluded from the religious schools of his time because of his writings and his thoughts When I came abroad for further studies, given my position as an immigrant pursuing academic studies, I became interested in the topic of academic migration. Later, my academic work focused more on the sociology of knowledge and learning at various life stages. Parallel to this, I also worked on social movements, dedicating more time to this area given the situation in Iran in recent years.

When the universities closed during the Cultural Revolution, we formed a small research group in Tehran on the revolution and education from a comparative and international or Islamic perspective. My expulsion from the university led me to continue this field of work to this day.

You have written about the Cultural Revolution of 1980 as well.

My work on the Cultural Revolution relates to my project on the Islamization of the education system and its historical roots—from religious schools established in Iran after the Second World War onwards to subsequent periods and the emergence of schools like Kamal, Refah, and Alavi, the collapse of the secular system in 1979, and the Islamization project and its proponents like Ali Shariati^[3]Ali Shariati (1933-1977): A Muslim intellectual and activist who died in London a year before the 1979 Revolution. and Morteza Motahari^[4]Morteza Motahhari (1920-1979): A Shiite cleric, professor of philosophy, Islamic orator, and member of the Revolutionary Council after 1979, assassinated a few months after the victory of the … Continue reading. I viewed the Cultural Revolution more in this cultural movement context despite the clear political aspect we observed in 1980, aimed at gaining hegemony in universities and widespread purges of opposing forces. What happened in 1980 was a political victory for a force that had harbored a negative view of modern secular education for decades. I believe we still need to work on the Cultural Revolution, the paradigm of Islamizing education, its roots and reasons, and its actors.

If we return to the atmosphere of the Faculty of Social Sciences at the University of Tehran, you were subjected to purges during the Cultural Revolution in 1980, correct?

Yes. At that time, I was a master’s student in sociology at the University of Tehran with only three credits and my thesis remaining when I was expelled during the Cultural Revolution purges. My thesis with Professor Parham was well advanced.

Do you remember exactly what year and days it was and what the atmosphere in the faculty was like? What exactly happened? It would be good if you could share the details of the incident so we can have a clearer picture.

The atmosphere at the university in the first academic year after the revolution was very unique, with discussions, speeches, and debates everywhere. The university was somewhat the intellectual center of political tendencies and the dynamism of the young generation. However, tensions and conflicts increased from the second term. It was in April 1980, after the clashes in Tabriz during Rafsanjani’s^[5]Ali Akbar Hachemi Rafsandjani (1934-2017) was member of the Revolutionary Council after 1979, Speaker of parliament (1980-1989) and President of the Islamic Republic (1989-1997). speech, that the Islamic Association students raised the issue of the Cultural Revolution and the need to close universities.^[6]The tensions generated during Hachemi Rafsandjani’s conference at the University of Tabriz (a city in northwest Iran) by students opposed to the Islamic government were considered the beginning of … Continue reading This topic had been previously mentioned in Khomeini’s New Year’s message, but at that time he was making speeches twice a day and we didn’t take these remarks seriously. After the events in Tabriz, the Revolutionary Council intervened, asking political forces to evacuate their offices in the university. Students affiliated with political groups saw this as a kind of coup against the university and the free political space. We viewed this decision as an attack on opposition groups and a political move to close universities. Politically, the Islamic Association, which defended the Islamic Republic and Khomeini, did not hold the upper hand within the university. In most university elections, they had at best won twenty to twenty-five percent of the votes. With the exception of one or two universities which had different atmospheres, in other major universities the Islamic Association was a minority force. Simultaneously, members of the Islamic Association were very active outside the university, engaging in state and political work. My analysis at that time was that the closure of the university was a reaction by the government due to the weak position of the Islamic Association as well as a move against political opponents and to limit the university. During the nights of clashes, I was at the University of Tehran out of curiosity. Major student groups like Pishgam (Left-wing student organization) and the Muslim Students Association (supporters of the Mojahedin[ Muslim left-wing student organization]) had decided to evacuate their offices. In Tehran, the tension was somewhat limited, but in cities like Ahvaz, the clashes were very bloody.

At that time, I was in contact with a few members of the Imam Line Islamic Association who were considered more progressive than traditional Islamic students. We often discussed the political situation and the state of the university. They said that they had gone to the Construction Jihad and state work, got involved in the embassy takeover, while we were present at the university and the groups that were at war with the Islamic Republic were actually using the university as their main base. At that time, we thought that the closure of the university was temporary and would not last beyond a few months. Contact with some students outside the faculty continued. For example, Professor Khosravi held an unofficial methodology class outside the university for leftist students to continue their studies during the closure.

In 1982, I received a letter from the university stating that the committee reviewing students’ status had decided to expel me from the university. The reasons for expulsion included several options, and in my case, it related to “affiliation with heretical and anti-revolutionary groups.” I called one of the employees in the education department who was a friend and had typed my thesis. He suggested we meet at a grocery store near the faculty. Like many at that time, he had grown a beard but spoke to me warmly. He explained that the situation had changed drastically, and the Islamic Association students had become very powerful and were mainly deciding on the expulsion of professors and students. Then, with a bitter smile, he said, “Your thesis advisor has fled, and you are accused of anti-revolutionary activities. You are lucky to be alive. Pursuing this will not help. This is no longer the university you wanted. You should think about saving your life rather than continuing your studies.”

Thus, I had to give up continuing my studies at the University of Tehran. Later, I took an exam for Tarbiat Modares University and passed both the written exam and local investigations.

Was this in 1982 and 1983?

Yes, I think in 1982 it was the first year of Tarbiat Modares University. It was indeed one of the main institutions established after the Cultural Revolution to train “committed and ideological” professors. I passed the written exam with a high rank. One of the decisions of the Cultural Revolution Headquarters at that time was to conduct local investigations about the identity of university applicants. At that time, I was a teacher at Alborz High School. The investigation letter was given to Mr. Homan, the deputy principal of the school, who was a very close friend. He was secular and opposed to the Islamic Republic. However, he wrote in the investigation form that Paivandi was very committed and ideological. Someone also came to our neighborhood to ask the barber and grocery store about what kind of person I was and whether I attended Friday prayers. The neighborhood grocer was very religious, but everyone said the barber collaborated with SAVAK [ The secret police before the 1979 Revolution]. Yet both gave positive feedback about my commitment to the revolution. After the investigations, I was called for an interview. Among the interviewers was one of my former high school students from Alborz who had just graduated. When he saw me, he asked what I was doing there. My process didn’t even reach the interview stage. He told me that the condition for acceptance there was being committed to the ideology and performing religious duties.

You mentioned the Islamic Association. Who were these people? There are discussions about whether the Islamic students started this movement spontaneously, but simultaneously initial movements occurred in several cities, questioning this spontaneity. Were the Islamic students in the Faculty of Social Sciences organized? Did they, like other political student groups, consult with political organizations or the Islamic Republican Party?

In fact, the lines became clearer from 1977. As the political space gradually opened up, the activities of various groups also became more public. The core of the Islamic Association students was mainly composed of individuals with traditional religious identities. For example, their demands from university officials included overseeing Islamic slaughter in the student restaurant. There was also a small group with more open ideas who, for example, debated with Mojahedin [Left-wing Islamist Organization] or leftist students. However, some people joined the Islamic Association on the eve of the revolution without having a background in religious activities. My relationship with this new non-traditional generation was good, and we discussed contemporary social and political issues. But these people became more seriously inclined towards religion after 1977.

Now, if we go back to the post-revolution period, many members of the Islamic Association believed they had to align the university with the goals of the Islamic Republic and saw themselves as the audience of Khomeini’s messages about purification and Islamization of the university. Some activists of the Islamic Association had been proposing the closure of the university since 1979. Later, the famous session tape with Hassan Ayat^[7]Hassan Ayat (1928-1981): Deputy of parliament and influential member of the leadership of the Islamic Republican Party. was released, showing that even if the Islamic Associations didn’t have a centralized project to close the university, at least the Islamic Republican Party pursued this policy. In fact, in the political strategy of this party, eliminating internal and external rivals—from Banisadr^[8]Banisadr (1933-2021): The first president of the Islamic Republic elected in 1980 and dismissed in 1981. to the National Front, the Liberation Movement, the Mojahedin, and the left—closing the university was a significant step. Everyone knew that at least part of the Islamic Association was connected to the Islamic Republican Party. But another part of the Islamic Association, alongside eliminating political rivals, sought to create a non-colonial university serving Iran’s independence. It is difficult to say how sincere this discourse was at the time, but it was presented. Overall, if we look more broadly, all political groups at that time somehow sought to transform a university they saw as dependent on the “West” or “neocolonialism.” Everyone had an ideal university in mind. It was no coincidence that everyone agreed on the purification of professors associated with the Monarchical regime or students who collaborated with SAVAK.

I remember that I and several graduate sociology students had a long discussion with Professor Adibi in 1979 while conducting collective fieldwork in the city of Bandar Anzali. My argument was that the university should be revolutionary and replace bourgeois sociology with scientific sociology serving the oppressed. Among the graduate students, all tendencies were present, and almost everyone supported the establishment of a revolutionary university. At that time, Professor Adibi, with a smile, told me that when you talk about scientific sociology, its professors are certainly people like Ehsan Tabari^[9] Ehsan Tabari (1917-1989): Left-wing intellectual, essayist, writer, and member of the Tudeh Party (Communist Party of Iran)..

At that time, there was also much discussion about the university independence plan proposed by Maleki, the first president of Tehran University after the 1979 revolution, and his Organisation. One of the discussions was that this plan had a liberal nature, closer to the model of a Western bourgeois university, while we supported the establishment of a revolutionary university serving the oppressed.

This is interesting! Because many people from the University of Tehran were in the National Organization of University Professors, but you say the independence plan they brought was not the desired model. Did you hear anything about this organization before the revolution, before Maleki became president?

Some students considered the National Organization of University Professors liberal and non-revolutionary, partly because it included a wide range of professors with various tendencies. Of course, I and perhaps many students did not have a deep understanding of this civil institution and its importance in defending the university and its independence, and we pursued an institution that aligned with our ideology in a more instrumental and ideological manner. The inclusiveness of this institution, which was its strength, was seen as a weakness by us. We had the same understanding of student organizations. No one sought to create a union that represented a wide range of student groups and defended their interests. Each tendency created its own organization, and the various left-wing or Islamic student organizations were all associated with a political organization outside the university. At that time, I read Maleki’s interviews in the media but did not accept his theories. For us, Maleki had a liberal tendency. Later, when I read his interview with Mehrak Kamali in the magazine “Loh,” I realized our misunderstanding of the events of that time.

When the National Organization was formed, Maleki was not its main figure. Perhaps Nasser Pakdaman, professor of economics, was the main figure because he later became one of the directors of this organization. Was he also not acceptable to you?

Yes, but the organization included very different individuals, adding to the doubts. I had some discussions with Professor Nasser Pakdaman in Paris later about the organization’s experience. For us at that time, Pakdaman was more anti-Soviet and nationalist. Later, I realized our view was wrong, especially since he cooperated more with leftist tendencies in Paris.

What were the discussions in political circles about the Cultural Revolution at that time, its goals? Which aspect of it attracted the most attention?

Understanding and analyzing the situation at that time was not easy, and there were many unanswered questions. On one side, there were Banisadr and his supporters, considered non-revolutionary by many leftist and liberal forces. At the same time, he defended civil and political liberties. Opposing him were Khomeini, the Islamic Republican Party, and the Islamic Associations who made revolutionary and anti-imperialist statements but did not favor freedom. The US embassy takeover and revolutionary slogans in support of the oppressed had brought them some legitimacy and credibility, making us lean more towards the opponents of Banisadr. We all viewed the world through the lens of radicalism and the struggle against imperialism, which caused us to see political and civil liberties and democracy as related to capitalist societies. By the time we realized our mistake, it was too late. Many leftist revolutionaries did not understand that at that time the main battlefield was the political openness and resistance against religious fundamentalism.

Can you give a picture of the damage inflicted on the social sciences faculty at the University of Tehran during this period? If you have information from that time or things you heard later about expelled professors and students?

Relatively speaking, a significant portion of our good professors were purged. Scholars like Adibi, Khosravi, Nezami, Ashraf, and Parham either left or secular were expelled, and those who managed to stay or cooperated like Professor Tavasoli had to conform to narrow governmental frameworks. I spoke with Professor Tavasoli many times about the Cultural Revolution and events within the faculty. He mentioned that independent professors had little freedom of action and were even distrusted.

The expulsion or departure of professors was one aspect, but the damage caused by the Cultural Revolution to the function of social sciences was another and perhaps the main disaster that occurred. Fields like sociology took a long time to recover from this severe blow. The reality is that even before the revolution, we had sociology with limitations and red lines in some areas, and the heavy political atmosphere of that period affected the quality of education and research. For example, as students, we could not easily discuss social or political issues and question the state of the country. Perhaps if we could easily read Lenin, Marx, or Khomeini, Shariati, Tabari, which were banned, and even debate and critique them in classes or among ourselves, our identity and views would have formed differently. Forbidden literature became quasi-sacred texts for us, and we accepted them as obvious truth. The university and the classroom were not places for free and fearless debate and critical thinking, and there were things to be said and heard only in private circles. I remember sometimes going to Professor Aryanpour’s house with a few friends. He would talk to us, and we would listen intently. Our relationship with him was religious and unquestioning. For example, he would say there is a scientific sociology serving social justice and the working class, and there is a bourgeois sociology serving capitalism in the West. This is how my understanding of sociology and the university was shaped. I also had a good relationship with Professor Ehsan Naraghi, and in a private discussion, he laughingly told me that a copy of the French Communist Party’s newspaper, L’Humanité, could be found on his desk at the Ministry of Science. I replied, “Of course! They don’t bother you.”

In my opinion, if true academic freedom existed in university life at that time and we would have learned that there are various tendencies in sociology and these tendencies were examined in the curriculum, perhaps we wouldn’t look at sociology and the university so naively and rigidly. If we learned about Marxist or religious critical tendencies alongside other schools of sociology and engaged in free and scientific debates about them, perhaps we would approach social issues with a different awareness and conscience. For example, concepts like Westoxication, scientific sociology, democracy, return to self, Islamic government, or guardianship of the jurist could become subjects of critical discussion. Sometimes we felt that what we learned at the university had no connection to the real life of society. For example, in sociology of classes, we discussed the middle class without referring to its mindset and demands in relation to democracy and the political system. After the Cultural Revolution, social sciences became even weaker, more limited, and restricted. Revolutionary and religious censorship in the academic world was much broader than pre-revolutionary censorship. At the beginning of the Cultural Revolution and the years after, there was a utopia and illusion that there could be an Islamic sociology or Islamic and indigenous human sciences that were independent of the West, anti-colonial, and liberating. Revolutionary Islamists thought these social sciences should be extracted from religious and indigenous sources. There was an illusion that they could seek intellectual help from the seminary. Imagine the level of delusion of those seeking authentic indigenous human sciences who turned to a religious establishment unfamiliar with modern human sciences. In an interview with the newspaper “Kargozaran,” Professor Tavasoli explains the relationship with Mesbah Yazdi as the representative of the Qom seminary in this field. According to him, twenty to thirty university professors would go to City of Qom every week by bus to meet with Mr. Mesbah Yazdi and agree on Islamizing human sciences in the university. Professor Tavassoli said after a while we realized they were just beginning to understand what sociology was. Even Khomeini himself said in a speech that those who say Islam has nothing to do with economics or human sciences are ignorant. This level of delusion and naivety about the university and human sciences is unprecedented in history.

Considering the articles and writings produced by the main participants in the Cultural Revolution, do you think there are still unknown and ambiguous aspects of the Cultural Revolution that need to be worked on? You mentioned at the beginning of the conversation that there is still work to be done on this.

I am very pleased that in Iran, since the late 2000s, a new generation of works has been published that take a deeper look at what happened to us and do not only see the political framework of this project but also address its other aspects. In particular, I think now that some time has passed since this experience, it is time to take stock and answer the essential question of what the designers of this project wanted and specifically what was achieved. When anti-colonial and feminist tendencies raised the claim of criticizing existing human sciences in universities, they didn’t just stay in words and slogans. Feminist approaches, for example, theorized, conceptualized, did fieldwork, conducted historical work, and criticized past writings. Thus, they produced a literature that gave legitimacy and credibility to their discourse. Now, if we go to the claims of establishing an Islamic university and Islamic human sciences, what will we find? What intellectual and theoretical contributions have these sciences made to Iranian society, what new concepts have they created, and what paradigmatic or methodological changes have occurred? If we witness the repeated discourse of the Cultural Revolution, Western influence, and counter-revolution every few years, it means that the Cultural Revolution discourse is stagnant and has nothing to say, only imposing itself on the university through political force. The late Mesbah Yazdi said after thirty years that only the appearance of the university had become Islamic, and Dawari Ardakani^[10]Dawari Ardakani: Philosopher and university professor who supported and theorized the Cultural Revolution and criticism of the West. considers the project of Islamizing human sciences unfeasible or politicized. What did they lack that they couldn’t establish the promised paradise? What has the university gained from Islamizing it other than the purging of opponents, the promotion of ritualistic religion, the interference of religious institutions in executive affairs and control institutions? From Soroush^[11]Abdolkarim Soroush: Muslim intellectual, writer, and activist, member of the Cultural Revolution Headquarters who later denounced the Cultural Revolution. and Dawari Ardakani  and Mr. Golshani, professor of physics and one of the theoreticians of the Islamic university, sooner or later, they got off the Cultural Revolution train. This process should be examined, and those who made such claims should be clearly criticized and academically put on trial. Who should answer for all these damages and losses?

I think the works done since the late 2000s are different from the literature of the previous period, and we are observing the formation of a kind of critical literature of this very negative experience. Perhaps we can say that the case of the Cultural Revolution has just been opened, and over time many claims and promises are being evaluated and examined. Works by individuals like Maqsoud Farasatkhah, Soroush Sadegh, Zibakalam, Mahmoud Esmailinia, Abbas Kazemi, Behrang Sadighi, Mohammadreza Tajik, Amin Alimohammadi, Qasem Zaeri, Hajieh Mohammadalizadeh, Sardar Fotuhi, Nematollah Fazeli, and others each address aspects of this event and subsequent developments.

Another serious task that needs to be done before it’s too late is to return to the experiences of the direct actors and participants in this project over the years since 1980. Many of those who supported the Cultural Revolution were members of the Islamic Associations or accompanied them, gradually realizing the dead end of the process of Islamizing human sciences and the university and beginning to critique it. A critical and analytical return to their individual and collective experiences is very important. The question is how did such intellectual and political shifts occur? What role did practical field experience play in this intellectual transformation? Which theoretical sources had a more enlightening role? From the sociology of knowledge perspective, I use the term “conversion” or profound transformation in relation to knowledge and learning for these individuals. For example, some colleagues refer to the role of theoretical sources and works translated by individuals outside the academic world. Others see theoretical research or fieldwork as the main factor in their identity transformation and new relationship with knowledge. A sociology colleague told me that the deep gap between promises, claims, and realities led him to critique the Cultural Revolution and Islamic human sciences. We can also ask what processes led many colleagues to abandon their religious tendencies and become secular individuals in the academic environment. The official discourse constantly speaks of Western cultural influence or enemy conspiracies, but we need to approach this identity and epistemological transformation of those aligned with the Cultural Revolution with a phenomenological approach.

We must not forget that revolutions are likely to generate myths. The Cultural Revolution, return to self, and Islamizing human sciences and the university were also myths of a historical period in our academic life. Alongside the clear political motivations of the main actors and participants in the Cultural Revolution, it was said that we were supposed to create indigenous sciences serving endogenous development and scientific and economic independence. There was also talk of bringing spirituality and ethics to the academic world and using religious sources. Why and how did these ideals fail to materialize? What impact did ideological selections and purges have on the quality and atmosphere of the university? The same can be said about the unity of seminary and university. What did the seminary give to the university, and what impact did the university have on religious seminaries?

It is true that we do not yet have a definitive summary of the fate of Islamization and localization, but it seems everyone agrees that none of these projects worked. The main actors in social sciences have also admitted this. It seems that focusing on this aspect of the Cultural Revolution risks diverting our attention from its main and recurring aspect, which is political elimination and exclusion through the Cultural Revolution. After all, the attack on the university last year and two or three more times in the 70s to 90s was to purge dissident and independent professors and students. Each time, with a change in government, especially when conservatives came to power, an attack on the university was organized. How can this be understood?

It seems that the Islamic government does not have a proper understanding of the university and its function. In 1980, it was thought that if secular, and “anti-revolutionary” professors and students were purged, re-wrote the curriculum, a few clerics were brought to the university, and government-affiliated institutions like the Supreme Leader’s Representation Office were established, the university would become Islamic, compliant, and docile. But the university is a living social and scientific institution, and research, critical thinking, and questioning influence the identity of individuals. Students and professors are not pre-programmed robots without souls and minds; their relationship with knowledge and the nature of learning can undergo transformation. That is why sometimes officials are surprised by the university’s output and the cultural and scientific resistance of professors. One of the main reasons for the repeated waves of purges and confrontations with the university is the gap between the officials’ expectations and government policies on the one hand and the realities of the university on the other. This tension, which began in 1979, between the academic world and the government has continued in various forms despite restrictions and repression. This tension can be observed more or less in all closed and authoritarian systems. The struggle is over power intertwined with science and, as Michel Foucault said, with “Regimes of Truth.” Authoritarian regimes have problems with truths and sciences built on academic criteria being relativistic and accompanied by questioning and criticism. They want conditional science, a university under control with red lines and censorship, and a university that becomes a government agent legitimizing governmental truths.

Let’s take the discussion towards your experience of migrating to France and teaching in universities there, especially in relation to the experience of academic freedom. Have you ever felt during these years of teaching that, for example, on topics related to Iran or Palestine or similar subjects, there is no opportunity for free research or teaching? Have you encountered any obstacles, hidden or open, in this regard?

I have had a very positive experience in my academic life journey in France. As a student, I could freely attend various classes, learn a lot, and meet great professors. Some of what I learned in Iran became meaningful to me in France. Critical thinking, asking hard and fundamental questions were things I learned as a student through my experience in France. The free nature of higher education, the ability to freely attend many classes and seminars, and the existence of exceptional institutions like the Collège de France, which offers numerous important scientific conferences freely to everyone, provided unparalleled opportunities for me as an immigrant student. Learning scientific dialogue and research in an academic space where students and professors have complete freedom were invaluable experiences.

I never encountered political obstacles in my work, even though some of my writings on French society were very critical. When I wanted to be hired as a foreigner coming from the Islamic Republic, no one asked about my religion or political beliefs or why I had migrated to France. The non-interference of religion in public life, politics, or government was a very positive experience for someone who had endured the horrific experience of the Cultural Revolution and the Islamization of the education system in Iran. At the same time, compared to North America, climbing the academic ladder in France, especially in humanities and social sciences, is not easy for an immigrant. The difficulty mainly relates to paradigms and research topics. One of my concerned PhD professors once told me, “Don’t be upset, but as an immigrant, no one will come after you for work in humanities. You have to create your own position so that they have no choice but to hire you.”

One point about Palestine perhaps should be mentioned. What makes the topic sensitive is the presence of anti-Semitic tendencies, the rise of Islamism in France, and the current image of Palestine being summed up by a force like Hamas. I easily speak about Palestine and criticize Israel in meetings and some classes, and there is no problem. My colleagues know me and understand that I have no affinity with fundamentalist Islam, but the fear of Islamism is a reality.

What about the temporary employment of the workforce? Like many universities with neoliberal policies, not hiring on a permanent basis?

In France, about 80% of students study in the public sector, and in these universities, professors are hired in the traditional way as permanent government employees. A very small number of research or teaching jobs are temporary. The academic environment is still largely what Humboldt, the founder of the modern university in 1810, said: the state must fund an institution whose main task is research on unfinished and never-ending knowledge and to critique the issues and phenomena of society.

In recent years, French researchers working in Iran or Franco-Iranians have faced many problems; they have been arrested, imprisoned, and interrogated. What impact has this had on French researchers? Has it created motivation for discussions about academic freedom in a country like Iran?

Compared to English-speaking countries, humanities in France work less on international issues. Except for a few well-known institutes, the relationship with other countries is not very extensive. But in recent years, the arrest of Franco-Iranian or French researchers in Iran has had a wide reflection in the academic space. It is very shocking and even unbelievable for my colleagues that an academic person could be arrested during fieldwork on security charges without transparent and legal judicial mechanisms. These types of actions cause a lot of damage to the image of Iran and the academic relationship with our country. Unfortunately, we all know that universities and the academic world in Iran in many cases do not have the necessary independence and governments do not respect academic freedom. Perhaps only from 1941 to 1953 did the small and limited university at that time have a certain degree of autonomy.

You referred to the period from 1941 to 1953. In your article in Andisheh Azadi magazine, you introduced this period as the golden age of the university in Iran. Then you refer to the period of 1967 to 1969 when Majid Rahnema was the Minister of Science. What are our achievements in changing the university system during these periods?

I believe that historically the university has been a weak institution in Iran. At the time of establishing the first higher education institutions in the second half of the 19th century, there was not much discussion about scientific and educational independence or academic freedom. When the first university in Iran was founded in 1934, the type of management was somehow discussed. The opening of the political system from 1941 led to the issue of university autonomy being raised in the form of university council administration and the election of the president by figures like professor Ali Akbar Siassi. The university council included the deans of the faculties who were elected by the vote of professors in each field. The university president was also determined by the vote of the deans. This was a very new experience. Since the time of Dar ul-Funun^[12]Dar ul-Funun: The first modern institution of higher learning in Iran, established in Tehran in 1851. and the various scattered colleges that emerged, the government was in charge and appointed their deans. No one at that time discussed institutional autonomy.

The issue of university autonomy and academic freedom is a historical debate, and in some countries, these principles are even guaranteed in their constitutions. The modern university loses its meaning without these principles because the quality of research, education, and its scientific credibility and legitimacy depend largely on a free academic environment without political, security, or economic pressures. An example of the historical tradition of university autonomy from the 13th century AD is the mechanism of hiring professors by other professors because the main issue is assessing individuals’ scientific capabilities.

In Iran, we did not have an academic tradition in the Western sense, and there was no connection between historical educational institutions like religious schools and new higher education institutions. Our historical schools like Nizamiyyah^[13]Nizamiyyah: A medieval institution of higher education founded by Nizam al-Mulk in the 11th century in what is now Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan. either disappeared or took a path opposite to Europe. Our first secular higher education institutions were established based on the European model without bringing the academic spirit. It’s as if we bought a consumer product called the university. Therefore, the option of council administration and the election of the president was a very important institutional experiment despite its short lifespan. After 1953, politics returned to the university, university autonomy was ignored, laws were easily changed or implemented incompletely. The period of Majid Rahnema, Minister of Sciences and Higher Education from 1967 to 1971, was also very important in terms of university policies. He aimed to improve the quality of the university and expand research. Until the 1960s, our higher education work was more about training human resources than research. Rahnema tried to expand the research sector and establish relations with prestigious universities worldwide. For creating a university that seriously pursued the expansion and critique of science in connection with the world, institutional autonomy and academic freedom were important prerequisites. This project was largely unsuccessful because the Shah wanted the university to serve the development sought by the government instrumentally. However, these positive efforts should be remembered as part of Iran’s academic heritage.

Now, if we return to the present conditions, we can say that despite the university’s growth and having 3.5 million students, it remains a weak institution because it is under the complete supervision of government institutions. The university’s main power is its scientific credibility and intellectual independence. We have had significant growth in the publication of scientific articles, but what impact have these articles had on society or the economy? Of course, for several years, the issue of university autonomy has been discussed in research literature, especially in comparative studies with other countries. Some, because of Iran’s conditions, downplay the academic freedom component in the autonomy category. Functional autonomy can have more economic and organizational aspects without including the academic freedom of professors and students. The Islamic Azad University is administratively and financially independent but lacks autonomy in the academic sense because the level of academic freedom there is very low. Autonomy should simultaneously allow for questioning and criticism and addressing topics that may be unpleasant to governing institutions. The feature of the modern university is this real possibility of examining and critiquing without limitation. If modern society has grown so much in the last two centuries, it is partly because of the existence of an institution where free research, questioning phenomena, and critical thinking are part of its duties.

One of the problems with the university institution in Iran seems to be the lack of research work on academic freedom or university autonomy. For example, it is not clear which political forces supported each of these projects mentioned and which political currents were involved in them. Do we have any serious works on this? What about efforts made from below in the form of university organizations to achieve academic freedom and university autonomy, or what efforts have been made from above?

I think the main problem in Iran is that there is no proper understanding of the university’s functions. We have rarely asked ourselves what kind of university we want, for what goals, and what role this university can play in the country’s development. We do not ask the fundamental question of why, despite the significant growth in the number of scientific articles, there is no serious change in the general situation of society and our economy? The view of the university is often reductionist and instrumental. In most developed countries, the issue of the university and its role in different periods has been a national debate. The critical debate among German idealist philosophers led to the establishment of the Humboldt University in Berlin in 1810, which combined research and teaching and later became a global model. France and England followed the same path, expanding research universities alongside applied educational institutions. In the American historical experience, the aspect of service to community was added to educational and research duties, and the university had to become the center of cultural and scientific dynamism in each city in connection with the environment.

In Iran, however, we rarely had a critical debate in the public sphere about the university and its main functions. The bitter reality is that we have very few materials in Persian about the nature of the university in the modern era, its autonomy, academic freedom, and university models in the light of local experience. The university is actually the center of scientific development and human resources training, the main institution of critical thinking, and the temple of thought, the conservatory of culture, and the conscious conscience of society. Have we asked ourselves why, unlike developed countries, the modern university did not emerge from traditional and religious schools? In recent years, people like Maqsoud Farasatkhah, Gholamreza Zakir Salahi, Ali Paya, and others have discussed the place or autonomy of the university.

I have a very meaningful memory from the Iranian Studies Congress in Vienna in 2016. In this congress, there was a panel in Persian about human sciences and Islamization of universities. Since some criticisms directly targeted government policies, one of the French Iranologists and a few others protested, saying why are you discussing political issues here and this causes the Iranian government not to allow university professors to attend such congresses. This debate was very shocking to me. Why can we freely discuss politics and social issues and criticize the government in French universities and scientific meetings, but when it comes to Iran, we must try to discuss in a way that does not upset the government? I told the French colleague that maybe you think the university in Iran should be compliant and obedient to the government. So what about critique and academic freedom?

Let’s go back to the functional view of the university in Iran and the absence of a serious debate about what the university is and what role it has in society. Don’t you think the dominance of the modernization mindset among the public is one of the reasons why our society does not engage in this debate? This thought is powerful at different levels of society that the university is for training doctors and engineers, now teachers and accountants are also needed. Can Iran be compared to regional countries in this regard that pursued the modernization process with the same power and intensity? For example, in Turkey or Egypt, was the discussion of university autonomy or its social functions and academic freedoms raised?

I know a little about universities in Turkey and Lebanon but very little about Egypt. I am also informed about the universities in the Gulf states like the UAE and Qatar through PhD students working with me. I also have contact and cooperation with some universities in North African countries, namely Tunisia, Algeria, and Morocco. In these countries, despite the much more open space than Iran, we still face the issue of university autonomy. The university as the main institution of critical thinking, questioning, developing scientific research, and censorship-free culture is less discussed. The role of the university in flourishing the creativity of the young generation is also less emphasized. This reductionist view of the university is very pronounced concerning humanities and social sciences. Everywhere, there is a kind of security approach to the university, and political power stubbornly wants to keep the university under its control. Among neighboring or nearby countries, the situation of universities in Turkey and Lebanon is better than in other countries. Interestingly, in the UAE and Qatar, the university has extensive facilities and numerous bilateral collaborations with the most famous American and European universities, but they benefit very little from the academic freedom or critical thinking tradition of these countries. One of my students wanted to do a sociological field study on students’ university experience, and it took months to get permission with conditions.

In reviewing the independence of universities in the West, this event is particularly linked to the Enlightenment project and the conflict that arose between the teachings of the church and new science, creating heroes like Galileo and Giordano Bruno. These scientists or bearers of scientific truths, because the church opposed them, became heroes of intellectual independence and the independence of science and the university. Do you accept such a narrative of the history of critical thought in Europe? If we consider the history of modernization in Iran, did we have heroes who resisted the hard teachings of religion? Should we even seek such historical narratives from ourselves?

Regarding the relationship between science and religion in medieval Iran, my knowledge is limited. But in contemporary times, we can say that we tried to create a kind of compromise and reconciliation without dialogue between science and religion. The first generations tried to see these two cognitive domains separately without criticizing religion, as we observed in the European modernity experience. The name of this tendency in academic discussions is the incompatibility and separation of religious beliefs and thoughts and scientific knowledge. Many pioneers of new education in Iran tried to bypass this discussion and suffice to say that Islam is a religion supporting science and education. When Abbas Mirza^[14]Prince Abbas Mirza (1789-1833) was the first to want to reform and modernize Iran. sent the first two groups of Iranian students to England in 1811 and 1815, he emphasized that they should learn new science but not forget their religion and culture. This practice continued throughout the 19th century, with religious education and new education each going their separate ways. When Amir Kabir^[15]Amir Kabir (1807-1852), reformist Prime minister (1848-1851) who founded the first institution of modern Iranian education. established Dar ul-Funun, there was no prayer room in the original plan, nor was there a religious lesson in the curriculum. However, the fear of opposition from the clergy led to the theater hall being converted into a prayer room and a cleric teaching religion. Amir Kabir himself was a religious person but separated science from religion. Subsequent generations tried to avoid opening the critical debate on religion and science and in practice created a secularism without dialogue in Iran. However, the historical avoidance of the dialogue about the relationship between science and religion did not mean the issue was resolved. The rigid and fundamentalist sections of the clergy never reconciled with modern schools and science. From the 1950s, we observed the emergence of a new tendency represented by figures like professors Bazargan and Sahabi, whose main discourse centered on the compatibility of religion with science. They believed that religious principles also had scientific foundations. The words of intellectuals like Shariati, Fardid, philosopher and professor at the University of Tehran, and Al-e Ahmad^[16]Jalāl Āl-e-Ahmad (1923-1969) was a prominent Iranian novelist, and socio-political critic. He was particularly known for his criticism of exogenous modernization and the influence of Western … Continue reading about criticizing Westernization, criticizing technology, and returning to self were in practice a historical regression for Iranian secularism without dialogue. Figures like professor Nasr in relation to the court also proposed the discourse of university and Islamic sciences. Part of these individuals entered the field with the motivation to compete with Marxism. The establishment of the Islamic Republic reopened this topic with the difference that this time the representatives of the religious institution were in power, and the hands of university and secular figures were completely tied. It was as if history was taking revenge on modern science, education, and Iranian secularism. Islamizing education and universities and the Cultural Revolution should also be seen in these contradictory historical processes.

My last question concerns Iran Academia. It seems like an important experience for circumventing the limitations, discriminations, and pressures on our university system in Iran. I want to know your assessment of this experience. Was your goal only to provide opportunities for those who were deprived of education for any reason, or do you also interact with the official university system in Iran?

Iran Academia compared to universities in Iran is certainly a small experience. But it is not limited to those deprived of education for political or religious reasons. Among those who participate in our courses, many have master’s and doctorate degrees and want to study in an academic space with criteria close to a conventional free modern university, participate in open and scientific discussions, research, write, and critique. In addition, we have thematic free seminars or MOOCs where the number of participants is much higher.

I think that in these forty-plus years, we have had a kind of academic resistance among professors and students that has taken very diverse forms, by which I mean the part of the academy that exists outside the university. These individuals have produced valuable works over the years in addition to parallel work with the official educational system, such as the Baha’i university, Iran Academia, and training centers and circles in Iran where incredibly interesting discussions are held. These are characteristics of Iranian society and show its cultural and scientific dynamism.

Iran Academia, in my opinion, is one of these activities, albeit in the form of a small initiative. A large part of it belongs to all the forces that tried in various forms both inside and outside Iran to participate in discussions, research, and this includes colleagues abroad who focused on Iran. These have produced literature in various forms that we could not have produced in Iran over these forty years. An example is the topic of the Iranian revolution or the field of Women’s Studies where valuable research has been produced in other languages that have also helped within the country.