Philosophy discussion

The Book of Kings (Shahnameh) is an epic poem of approximately 50,000 verses, on which Ferdowsi worked for thirty-three years, from 977 to 1010 AD. It is a masterpiece of poetry and historiography, comparable to the *Divine Comedy*, the *Iliad*, and the *Odyssey*. The work recounts the history of Persia, from its first mythological kings to the fall of the Sasanian Empire and the Arab conquest. It is an act of preservation of a millennia-old civilization in the face of the risks posed by the Islamic expansion of the seventh century AD.

Persia is one of the places where human civilization was born. Under the leadership of Cyrus II, it became the center of an empire that is estimated to have contained roughly 40% of the world's population. The richness of Persian culture is beyond dispute, yet in the West we know surprisingly little about it, despite sharing common Indo-European origins with the Iranian peoples. Much of this history and culture is preserved in this book, which I regret having read only in its English translations.

I believe it is worth recalling, especially in these days, the legendary story of Kaveh's rebellion against Zahhak, an episode narrated by Ferdowsi in this very book.

Zahhak, heir to the throne of the Tayy tribe, was a young man of noble birth but unstable character, easily influenced by others. Ahriman, the spirit who embodies evil in Zoroastrianism, decides to exploit his weaknesses, corrupt him, and turn him into an instrument of chaos. Taking human form, he gains the prince's trust and convinces him to murder his father and usurp the throne. Yet once Zahhak ascends to power, Ahriman curses him: two ravenous serpents grow from his shoulders, feeding on human brains.

Fearing that he himself might be devoured by the monstrous creatures, Zahhak summons all the physicians and sages of the kingdom, hoping that someone can free him from the curse. No one succeeds, and in order to survive, the king is forced to feed the serpents by sacrificing his own subjects.

At the same time, Jamshid, ruler of the world, becomes arrogant and loses the *khvarenah*, the divine right to rule. Zahhak presents himself as the savior of the people, gathers an army, and hunts Jamshid for years until he finally captures him and has him sawn in two.

Zahhak then rules Persia as a tyrant for a thousand years. Every day he kidnaps and kills two young people to feed the serpents growing from his shoulders. Although everyone knows of his wickedness, no one dares challenge his power.

One night, however, the tyrant dreams of three mighty warriors confronting him. The youngest strikes him with a mace, binds him, and drags him toward Mount Damavand. The dream torments him for days until he asks the kingdom's sages to interpret it. His advisors dare not tell him the truth, until the bravest among them finally speaks: the dream foretells the end of his reign at the hands of Fereydun, the rightful heir to the throne of the Shahs.

To prevent the prophecy from coming true, Zahhak orders a search for the child destined to overthrow him. Fereydun is born in secret. His mother, Faranak, manages to hide him from the tyrant's spies, entrusting him first to a hermit and later to a miraculous cow named Barmayeh, who nourishes and protects him. When this refuge is discovered as well, Faranak takes her son into the mountains, far from the reach of the Serpent King, where the boy grows strong, just, and aware of his royal destiny.

Meanwhile, Zahhak's daily violence becomes unbearable. Two young people are sacrificed every day to feed the serpents, symbols of a power that literally devours its own people. To conceal the massacres, the king's officials force the fathers of the victims to sign documents attesting to the ruler's supposed justice.

It is in this context that Kaveh emerges, a blacksmith of the people whose seventeen sons have already been killed by Zahhak.

When Kaveh's last remaining son is claimed by the palace, the blacksmith loses all fear. Summoned to court to sign yet another declaration of loyalty to the tyrant, he refuses, tears the document apart before everyone, and denounces Zahhak as a usurper and a monster.

He then performs a gesture that will become legendary: he raises his leather apron, fastens it to a spear, and lifts it high as a banner. Thus is born the *Derafsh-e Kaviani*, the standard of rebellion.

The people, until then paralyzed by fear, recognize in Kaveh an authentic voice. The revolt spreads, and the blacksmith leads the crowd to Fereydun, now a grown man. In him, the Persians see not only the legitimate heir to the throne, but the embodiment of the justice that had been lost and of the *khvarenah* taken from Jamshid and profaned by Zahhak.

Fereydun marches against Zahhak armed with a mace, just as foretold in the prophetic dream. The struggle is not merely political but cosmic: it is the battle between *asha*—order and truth—and *druj*—falsehood and chaos—the two fundamental principles of Zoroastrianism.

Zahhak is defeated, but not killed. Fereydun chains him and imprisons him on Mount Damavand, where, according to legend, the tyrant is destined to remain until the end of time.

The story is not merely a myth. It is a profound reflection on power, moral responsibility, and the moment when collective fear can be broken by the actions of a single ordinary man. Kaveh is neither a king nor a predestined hero, but a craftsman who decides that he will no longer sign a lie.

In this sense, his rebellion is one of the most powerful political myths in the Persian tradition: the idea that legitimacy does not reside in force or terror, but in justice, and that even the longest-lasting tyrant can fall when the people stop feeding his serpents.

I hope that, in these days, the Iranian people may rediscover their own history. May they return to peace by reclaiming a freedom that has been denied to them for far too many years.

I spoke to a purported Iranian online who claimed that there are millions of covert Zoroastrians in Iran today. While I suspect the claim an exaggeration, there are indications of a genuine revival of interest in Zoroastrianism in recent decades, part of a growing general interest among Iranians in the immense and glorious history of their nation. Even the Shia form of Islam, of which Iran is the traditional epicenter, is alleged to reflect Zoroastrian influence. A mass movement to return to Persia's ancient faith would be an astonishing historical development.

A great book on the subject of Iranian history is A History of Iran: Empire of the Mind, by Michael Axworthy. I recommend it to anyone interested in this fascinating subject.