Wrestling’s Appeal in Contemporary Iran is Within its Roots
Came across this piece from The Atlantic. Here are some quotes from the article; however, please visit the site as well. It would be great to let more media outlets know there is an audience of wrestling fans that read/watch/write about the sport no matter where the competitions are held. So, help their view count increase (and write a comment) by clicking on the site linking to the original article pasted below.
Centuries before the Islamic Republic or even Islam, Persian athletes fused spirituality and strength training in a practice called Varzesh-e-Bastani, the legacy of which may still persist.
Freestyle wrestling is often described as the “first sport” of the Islamic Republic of Iran, according to U.S.-based Iranian historian Houchang Chehabi. Iran excels at international wrestling competitions, winning three gold medals at this year’s Olympics alone, and an astounding 35 medals since 1948. But the story of how Iran came to so dominate wrestling is older than the Islamic Republic, possibly older than even Islam itself, and may have to do with an Iranian understanding of the sport far different than the West’s.
Though Western cultures typically treat wrestling as an aggressive, individualistic, and deeply competitive sport, traditional Persian Varzesh-e-Bastani emphasizes it as a means of promoting inner strength through outer strength in a process meant to cultivate what we might call chivalry. The ideal practitioner is meant to embody such moral traits as kindness and humility and to defend the community against sinfulness and external threats.
Yet, somehow, the Varzesh-e-Bastani traditions and the Zoorkhaneh have survived, embraced during both the shah’s secular Westernizing era and under the Islamic Republic as a symbol of Persian national pride and of cultural roots. Both regimes, though they couldn’t be more different, promoted the Zoorkhaneh and entrenched its practices into national physical education, even reminding Iranians that the sport’s champions had once defended their communities against the Mongol invaders of a thousand years earlier. The Islamic Republic lionized the Varzesh-e-Bastani wrestler Gholamreza Takhti, elevating him to what one historian calls ”the greatest Iranian sports legend of the twentieth century,” perhaps in part because he could appeal to both Islamists and more secular skeptics, a unifying figure in a country that badly needed one.
In the late 1990s, reformists who followed new President Mohammad Khatami into power hinted that wrestling could be a path to detente with the U.S., a sort of Persian take on China’s Nixon-era ping pong diplomacy. (Since this article was written in August of 2102, I wonder if the author, Max Fisher, would believe that Beat the Street’s Rumble on The Rails project would reignite the flame of diplomacy between the US and Iran)
It’s difficult, and maybe ultimately impossible, to say for sure why one country might do particularly well (or particularly poorly) in one athletic competition or another. And it’s especially difficult to test the theory that Iranians are so good as weightlifting and wrestling (and, to a lesser extent, tae kwon do) because of those sports’ roots in the pre-Islamic Varzesh-e-Bastani tradition, one of the few ancient cultural legacies that has been allowed to persist through the past century of near-endless political turmoil. After all, gold medals in these events are won by a tiny handful of individuals. Still, if even just these dozen or so Iranian athletes believed that their amazing skill was rooted in this particularly Persian heritage, then wouldn’t that in itself make it at least somewhat true?