The Iranian Diaspora: Between “Nostalgia” and the “Illusion of Knowledge” / An Interview with Nasser Fakouhi

 

1. How do you assess the relationship between the Iranian diaspora and its homeland

First, I must point out that I am not aware of any comprehensive and reliable studies that have examined the Iranian diaspora in a thorough and nationwide manner. Most available information originates from case studies, statistics from the country of origin (Iran), and destination countries—such as census data and reports by certain civil society institutions, especially in the United States. Due to understandable political reasons, dual or multiple citizenships Iranians, generational divides, the vastly different cultures of host countries, and the lack of cohesion—whether cultural, economic, or civic—within the diaspora itself, any assessment must rely on these limited sources, as well as reference works like the Encyclopedia Iranica, and on field observations and experiences concerning the diaspora. As such, it is not possible to offer definitive answers to questions on this subject, which remains fluid and constantly evolving. In this type of study, the passage of time is crucial to reduce the risk of analytical errors. Nevertheless, despite the absence of comprehensive studies, certain behaviors, beliefs, organizations, institutions, and public figures within the Iranian diaspora have been examined separately in various contexts. The “Harvard Oral History Project” and similar projects inside and outside of Iran, including content on social media, have addressed aspects of migration and life in exile—either forced or voluntary—even though they primarily focus on the past. The verification of these analyses will require the future collection of scattered data and a proper temporal distance to ensure reliability.

What is especially important to note is a crucial and unprecedented fact: the phenomenon of large-scale emigration from Iran is historically quite rare. As I have stated repeatedly, apart from the relatively substantial migration of a portion of Iran’s Zoroastrians to India centuries ago—who today form the Parsi community—Iran has generally been a country of immigration rather than emigration. Even the migrations of the 20th century were relatively limited in scope. During the 1960s and 70s, emigration mainly involved students who traveled to Europe and later the United States for education, typically returning home after a few years. Religious pilgrimages and occasional migrations to sacred sites in Iraq also have a longer historical precedent. However, what may be called true mass emigration began in the years leading up to the 1979 Islamic Revolution and has continued through successive waves caused by political and economic crises. Today, we are dealing with a significant and sizable population—estimated by various sources to constitute between 5 to 8 percent of the total Iranian population.

What we witnessed during the 1960s and 70s, therefore, I do not consider to be true migration. I refer to it instead as a “long journey.” Real waves of Iranian emigration began a year or two before the 1979 Revolution, initially involving leaders and officials of the former regime and their families, followed by all those who could not accept the new sociopolitical and cultural order in the country. Many of these individuals did not believe that the new conditions would last for decades. Even now, more than forty years later, a considerable number of people—both from the first generation and now among the second and third—still obsessively believe that they will eventually “return” to Iran under circumstances like those of the 1979 Revolution or some comparable upheaval. However, this belief is more of a dream than a realistic prospect.

I say this not necessarily based on the political situation in Iran, but from historical experience with other political revolutions and transformations that have led to long-term migrations. “Return” is a form of fantasy in which individuals, disregarding the social and cultural realities that led them to migrate—and the difficult adaptation process they underwent in their new environments—imagine going back. For this reason, I would describe the relationship that most individuals in the Iranian diaspora have with their homeland as a “phantasmic” or “illusory” one. The longer they stay abroad—even if they have opportunities to visit Iran—the more this relationship becomes infused with fantasy and illusion, evolving into what might best be described as a “nostalgic process.”

In this sense, migrants often return to their homeland with joy, reunite with family, relive memories, reconnect with their native culture, and spend a few pleasant weeks. However, the realities of their lived experience quickly remind them, once the trip ends, that migration is not something one can put on like a garment one day and remove the next. This is the general nature of the relationship most migrants have with their homeland—or at least the large group of migrants who are not so deeply entangled in political matters that returning would put them at risk. For the sake of this discussion, we might use the term “exiles” to describe them—although I believe this term has significant semantic flaws and needs more precise definition. Nonetheless, I will use it here to move the argument forward.

By this, I mostly mean active opponents of the current political regime, who, for security reasons, have not been able—or still cannot—travel back to Iran. For this group, the relationship with the homeland becomes increasingly politicized. In both cases, however, these categories do not imply that those who return are apolitical or necessarily in agreement with the political situation, nor that those who cannot—or believe they cannot—return, lack a nostalgic relationship with their homeland. Yet, these two types of relationships, in their social behaviors and surrounding interactions, generate entirely different worlds. These differing realities can, and often do, create growing distances between the groups.

In any case, the longer the period of migration extends, the more nostalgic and exile-like the relationship with the homeland becomes. Another observable trend among both the first and second groups of migrants is the desire to maintain some kind of connection with their homeland connection that, due to its imaginary nature, is often rooted not in present realities, but in historical pasts or imagined destinies and futures. These, often, exist more vividly in the realm of personal imagination than in any grounded or empirically supported reality.

Such mechanisms are well-documented in the sociology of revolutions and mass migrations. A particularly prominent phenomenon is what is known as “event denial,” which manifests either through recourse to conspiracy theories—denying the reality of events as they occurred—or through a range of arguments and theories that may appear logically sound on the surface, but cannot, upon deeper analysis, withstand the weight of the actual historical events that led to migration in the first place. This was true not only in the case of the 1979 Iranian Revolution but also in many of the major political upheavals of the 20th century—such as the Russian and Chinese revolutions, the Cuban Revolution, the Algerian War of Independence, the Greek Civil War, and the Balkan, Caucasus, and Middle Eastern conflicts. All of these produced massive migrations in the 20th century. Among the displaced were Greeks, Turks, Arabs, Sub-Saharan and North African peoples, Southeast Asians, Chinese, and Iranians. Across these diasporas, we repeatedly encounter cultural responses marked by disbelief—a kind of refusal to fully accept or internalize the events that prompted their exile.

It is as if many migrants interpret the pivotal event that led to their departure as a “conspiracy,” and devote much of their energy to “exposing” this plot in hopes that doing so will cause its collapse and enable their “return.” Alternatively, they perceive the transformation as having taken a “deviant” path—commonly expressed in everyday language as: “It shouldn’t have happened this way.” These forms of denial are almost universally observed across studies on migrants throughout the 20th century. Likewise, we rarely witness any large-scale “return” to the homeland—except in cases where the triggering event was short-lived, such as the return of Latin American refugees or Greeks in the 1980s. However, when the event becomes prolonged, return becomes increasingly unlikely. Russians, Spaniards, Armenians, Algerians, and Portuguese—none returned in masse. The likelihood of return is also tied to the physical and cultural proximity between the host and home countries, as seen in the case of Spaniards and Portuguese returning from France. The so-called “celebration of a glorious return” never actually materializes. It remains a fantasy. This imagined celebration is, in fact, distinct from another cultural process—the “celebration of regime change or revolution”, which may indeed occur but often leads to a future quite different from what was expected. These are two entirely separate sociology-cultural dynamics.

In short, the homeland society continues its real transformation after the pivotal event it has experienced. Other developments occur within it, possibly even leading to another major turning point. However, the diasporic environment tends to have minimal influence on these changes. Instead, the diaspora often follows these events within a mental or imagined space, constructing its own narratives rather than exerting any substantial impact.  This phenomenon is evident in the case of the Iranian diaspora, which, after one or two generations, enters a longer-term process of integration into the host society. While maintaining a relatively closed, folkloric, and cultural “bubble,” this community gradually becomes a “communal minority” within that society. This process, known as “communautarisation” of the migrant population, varies significantly depending on both the culture of origin and that of the host country. To fully understand this process among Iranians, we must first ask: which Iranians? From which time? To which country did they migrate? Through what path? What outcome? How long have they been settled in the new culture and country? Each of these variables creates a different context. Therefore, it is not possible to define a few fixed characteristics for Iranian migrants or the Iranian diaspora. Attempts to do so often oversimplify the issue and overlook the complexities involved, producing a false sense of universal identity that does not hold up under rigorous scrutiny.

2. Is there a fundamental difference between Iranians and other diaspora communities in the U.S. in this regard

It depends on which migrant groups they are compared to. However, we must consider that despite the presence of elites and prominent individuals among Iranians, their overall number is relatively limited, and they are widely dispersed geographically. For this reason, comparing Iranians with large Asian groups such as Indians, Pakistanis, or Chinese in the U.S. is not particularly relevant, in my view. Comparisons with large communities like Hispanics, Slavs, or other European migrants are essentially meaningless. It’s important to note that there has been considerable exaggeration regarding the size of the Iranian diaspora and its so-called “success” and “influence.” You’ve surely heard phrases like “NASA is run by Iranians” or “California and Los Angeles (and more recently, Canada) are dominated by Iranians”—typical clichés, widely circulated on the internet, without any factual basis. There is a kind of narcissism among Iranians that can be quite harmful, stemming from the country’s prolonged isolation and lack of meaningful interaction with the wider world in recent decades. This is the same “dream” I mentioned earlier, which—both inside and outside the country—has led to a form of collective self-absorption among Iranians. Let us not forget that the wrongful behavior of a large group of officials after the Revolution, who sought to deny and belittle Iran’s past, as well as the global political treatment of Iran and Iranians—which consistently portrayed a dark image of the country—have also played a significant role in this issue. The crisis of the U.S. embassy hostage situation was a genuine trauma for the Iranian diaspora in America, as they faced severe humiliation and pressure from public opinion.  I attribute much of this narcissism to the improper conduct of some officials who, due to lack of knowledge and critical thinking (or deliberately), gave international media excuses that distorted Iran’s image and blurred the lines between politics and culture in Iran, thereby calling everything into question. Part of this also stems from Europe’s colonial history and the condescending attitude of Europeans toward non-Western countries—an exoticism that persists to this day. In the absence of comprehensive studies, based on the lived experiences and narratives of Iranians about themselves and the countries they live in, as well as my personal experience of more than twenty years living in the West, I observe several characteristics in many Iranians (without intending to generalize to all), both inside Iran and more intensely abroad:

۱) A dual and contradictory sense of narcissism and self-contentedness on one hand, and self-deprecation on the other, particularly towards the West.

۲) A lack of recognition of other cultures, especially non-Western ones—and a demeaning attitude towards them stemming from ignorance (notably toward Africa, the Far East, South Asia, etc.).

۳) Avoidance of identifying themselves as Iranian or forming relationships with other Iranians in daily interactions, which is linked to the contradictory nature of the first attitude.

For example, many say they don’t consider themselves “like Easterners” and express statements such as: “Everyone thinks I’m Spanish or French; no one can guess I’m Iranian,” or “We have nothing to do with Arabs; our language is Persian, not Arabic,” or “We have a civilization thousands of years old and can’t be compared to these Arabs or Africans.” These phrases, often expressed without explanation in everyday conversations, mostly arise from ignorance influenced by a hollow nationalism and archaic pride (without real knowledge of ancient Iran), and from the humiliation Iranians have suffered under the government and global public opinion. These are common remarks we frequently hear, sometimes even when no one has asked about them. However, these same Iranians, when they encounter another group of Iranians (and they are quickly and “coincidentally” recognizing their Iranian identity), lower their voices and avoid eye contact so that the other group does not realize they are facing fellow Iranians. These small behaviors and remarks are very significant because they reveal a kind of underdeveloped or damaged nationalism that manifests in pathological ways.  What I have mentioned does not contradict the positive qualities of Iranians; rather, many of them fail to understand that among all peoples worldwide, there are cultured and uncultured individuals, people with diverse tastes, behaviors, levels of awareness, and opposing talents. If they open their culture toward each other and the world, its value will greatly increase, and their awareness and critical and analytical abilities will improve. Many of these traits can be observed to varying degrees, among other immigrant groups as well, though the intensity differs. For example, Armenians, various sub-Saharan African cultures, North African Arabs (Algeria, Tunisia, Morocco), and especially Lebanese and Syrian Arabs often display more mature behavior than the average Iranian. Of course, such discussions should be based on careful field studies. What I share here mainly stems from lived experiences with Iranian groups I have directly or indirectly encountered or from what I observe online.

 What common features can be found among the Iranian diaspora regarding political issues in Iran

The only universal feature I have observed is a general dissatisfaction and political rejection of the ruling government in Iran, without having a clear or specific solution. Some proposed solutions, such as the repeated nostalgia for the “golden era of the Pahlavi dynasty,” are so absurd—especially after the recent twelve-day conflict between Iran and Israel—that their superficiality becomes painfully evident. It is hard not to be saddened when we see people who claim pride in Iran’s millennia-old culture rallying under the flag of a country currently bombing their homeland, justifying this irrational behavior by their opposition to the Iranian regime. I consider this hollow nationalism and cultural ignorance towards other cultures as the most prominent behavioral trait among some Iranians, particularly outside Iran. This contrasts with other marginalized and colonized Third World communities, where such attitudes have become less common, especially as postcolonial discussions have increased in recent years.

For example, I have never seen Pakistanis or Indians become so emotionally overwhelmed and lose themselves simply because someone of their ethnic background has achieved a prominent position. As a sociopathologist, I emphasize the negative points, but it is important to acknowledge that the Iranian diaspora also has many positive and remarkable traits, such as relatively high cultural and educational capital, strong adaptability to new environments, and avoidance of social crimes, among others. The important point is that these characteristics are not inherently related to being Iranian, Indian, or otherwise, but rather result from differing historical trajectories and varying temporal, social, and cultural contexts that are constantly evolving. As mentioned, the financial, cultural, and social capital of individuals, the period and context of their migration, their countries of origin and destination, the duration of their residence, and the communities they coexist with, all significantly influence their behaviors and thought patterns.

Moreover, the absence of strong civil institutions and the incapacity of these Iranian groups—who mostly identify themselves as opposition—even during the most intense protests in Iran, reveals a deficiency in political thought, critical analysis, and organized, sustained cooperation. Their lack of awareness regarding cognitive and cultural mechanisms is also noteworthy. The emphasis on celebrities in the arts and sciences, rather than reflecting a generally high average within the community, indicates a considerable cultural and social deficit in the average individual within this group.

4. Some estimates suggest that in recent decades, cultural activities within the Iranian diaspora have largely replaced the dominance of political activism seen in the 1980s. Nonetheless, particularly since the 2009 elections, whenever protest movements have emerged in Iran, parallel gatherings have appeared abroad. One notable example, which received significant media coverage, was the 2022 protests of Iranians living abroad, especially in Berlin, where a considerable crowd assembled. Could such developments indicate a renewed dominance of political approaches within the diaspora

I have not observed such a transformation. It seems to me that cultural activities gradually increased after the initial political shock of the first decade following the revolution. Many Iranians turned toward cultural work, and we witnessed the formation of a notable body of literature and artistic culture within the diaspora. However, these groups remain very small minorities, and there is little solidarity among them in terms of mutual support. Indeed, most cultural institutions, magazines, and publishers have been forced to cease operations. We must not, and cannot, consider the situation of Iranians abroad as separate from that within Iran.

In Iran as well, we face similar conditions where individuals place culture last in their list of expenses. I am referring to a time before political incompetence that had driven our society into such poverty and fragmentation of the middle class. Today, when people struggle even to afford necessities and society is deeply polarized between rich and poor, the situation is far worse, and no clear alternative or solution is in sight. Even with the increasingly harsh neoliberal and quasi-fascist laws imposed daily, the few cultural currents that remain are becoming commodified and specialized for the wealthy classes, who are more interested in displaying “cultural consumption” than in using culture to enhance their awareness and cognitive capacities. However, to address your question more precisely, the movements we observe outside Iran, fortunately, tend to be more cultural than political, even if they are small in number. Being political requires certain preconditions, many of which have been eroded today due to internal and external factors. This is not unique to the Iranian diaspora and requires a broader discussion to unpack fully.

5. What role will the Iranian diaspora play in Iran’s political future

I do not believe that the Iranian diaspora will play a serious or significant role in either the near or distant future of Iran’s political landscape. The greatest “successes” we have seen from the diaspora have largely been “successes for others” — a new form of the old brain drain. When, for instance, two chess champions of Iranian descent compete under the flags of two foreign countries in an international tournament, or when we hear about an Iranian-born politician, athlete, or scientist achieving major global recognition, it is less a cause for national pride than a reminder of our collective failure: how we drove these individuals out of the country. Rather than indulging in false nationalist pride by saying, “Look at what we Iranians are capable of!”, we should feel regret for having lost such talent. These kinds of achievements — whether by Iranians or by others from the Global South — are typically the result of multiple factors: colonial legacies, globalization and its associated diversities, brain drain, and most importantly, the investment of host countries in nurturing bright, intelligent, and highly capable individuals. These are talents that would likely have been wasted had they remained in their country of origin. Thus, the solution lies not in nationalist self-congratulation, even if such a champion happens to mention their Iranian heritage in honor of their parents — which is rarely the case — but in understanding the structural issues that led to their departure in the first place.

Therefore, within a diaspora in which, when five or six individuals come together, three separate factions emerge after just a couple of months—and this pattern has continued for over forty years—we are dealing with serious structural problems. In a diaspora where the level of critical thinking and analytical reasoning is so low that we still witness the glorification of anti-heroes, expecting it to bear meaningful fruit for Iran’s present or future is, quite simply, unrealistic. However, such spaces may be beneficial for the individuals and institutions active within them. These individuals—or their children—are, after all, valuable assets that we were unable to retain, while others recognized their potential and helped them reach the highest levels of productivity. Some argue that such “success stories” help improve Iran’s global image. But I have often said that a civilization with at least three thousand years of history—home to Hafez, Khayyam, Rumi, and Ferdowsi—has long been recognized and does not need this or that fabricated prize from this or that festival to polish its image. Instead, these examples should compel us to strengthen our critical thinking and ask: why have we created conditions in which such individuals are driven from their homeland? Why do Iranians inside and outside the country behave the way they do? And why are we so quick to blame everything solely on internal political power or foreign interventions? Of course, both internal and external powers have played major roles in this decline, but what truly matters is understanding how we reached this point.

 – Some studies suggest the emergence of a “new virtual diaspora in Iran” influenced by the Iranian diaspora abroad. In your view, has the Iranian diaspora been able to influence the mindset of people inside the country

Based on my experience with virtual spaces, I don’t believe this is the case. This is a highly complex issue that cannot be unpacked within the limited space of a newspaper article. Despite some truly brilliant and impressive areas, the Persian-speaking virtual sphere more closely resembles a jungle filled with swamps and mire—where, alongside all its beauty, all kinds of infiltrators and fools have found residence. Therefore, this matter must be addressed on a different level, which exists globally as well, and I will leave further discussion for another occasion.

– In your opinion, what impact will the experience of the twelve-day war have on the mindset of the Iranian diaspora

I don’t believe it will have much impact, because the mindset of many Iranians—due to their isolation from the world and, more impo

• نمایش نوشته

rtantly, their reactive and emotional nature and lack of critical depth—lacks the capacity for deep understanding. In many ways, it resembles something akin to the “MAGA crowd” (low-culture supporters of Trump in the U.S.). That’s why, unfortunately, today we see that despite all the crimes and sheer foolishness—especially of Trump—both he and Israel remain strangely popular among some Iranians.

Why is it that in Iran, we not only don’t see support for Palestinians or sympathy with the genocide in Gaza, but quite the opposite—we see open support for Israel, even among segments of the intellectual class? Undoubtedly, part of this is a reaction against the Iranian government, but that could be called an excuse worse than the offense itself. This kind of emotional, irrational reaction is a form of intellectual backwardness, not something to be proud of. Many of our most prominent celebrities had access to the world’s biggest platforms during the bombings in Iran and the genocide in Gaza, yet not a single word was spoken in defense of their homeland or in solidarity with Palestinian children and genocide victims. Instead, they focused on self-promotion and laying the groundwork for future financial gain—calling it “fighting the regime.” But from such a “struggle,” anything may emerge—except freedom, dignity, or a better life for any people.

– How credible do you think the President and Minister of Tourism’s invitation to the Iranian diaspora is

This is not the first time such an invitation has been extended by Iranian officials. Similar calls were made during the presidencies of Rafsanjani, Khatami, Ahmadinejad, and Rouhani—even leading, at times (I believe during Ahmadinejad’s era), to meetings and gatherings held in Iran. But none of these initiatives ever really progressed meaningfully. The notion of “reverse migration” is a phenomenon that has occurred only rarely. What is often overlooked is that the return of someone who has spent only three or four years abroad—as an immigrant or asylum seeker—cannot be considered reverse migration. True reverse migration occurs when there are relatively stable and positive changes in the migrant-sending country (in this case, Iran) and, at the same time, negative and challenging developments in the host country. This might then encourage migrants—who have lived abroad for over a decade and built stable lives—to return to their homeland, hopeful for a better future, while also accepting the hardships that such a transition might entail. At present, many Western countries are indeed facing difficult times—democratic backsliding, the severe consequences of four decades of neoliberal economic policy, rising poverty, and the erosion of the middle class.

Under these conditions, if Iran were to revise its domestic and foreign policies to promote constructive engagement, balance its international relations, expand civil liberties, and stabilize its political system in a way that ensures a viable life for those whose lifestyles and beliefs differ from those of the ruling class, then I believe there would be a real possibility for reverse migration. However, a more immediate and likely outcome could be the attraction of foreign investment originating from the Iranian diaspora—something that too would only become feasible through the consolidation and continuation of democratic reforms. Not to mention that, in such a scenario, even non-Iranian capital could be drawn in. It must never be forgotten that every migration begins with a trauma and ends with another rupture elsewhere. It takes many years—on average, about ten, according to sociology—for a migrant to become fully integrated into a new country. So, after enduring such hardships, migrants are unlikely to return without serious incentives. Yet if the conditions genuinely improve, the cultural pull of one’s homeland can be powerful. This can manifest not only in permanent return but also in more flexible forms: dual residence (in both the host country and the country of origin), short-term or project-based returns, or even returning for retirement. But all of these scenarios depend on several key preconditions: a thriving economy, real opportunities for the middle class, civil and political freedoms, and the absence—or at least the weakening—of systemic corruption. Anyone seeking to bring their capital or experience to a country—or to choose it as a travel destination—is not looking for adventure, nor are they willing to face fear or instability. Moreover, the state must avoid speaking to the diaspora in a tone that implies they have committed a crime and that their return would amount to being “pardoned.” Such discourse has deeply negative effects. Except for a very small minority, no one willingly leaves their homeland or the place where they spent their formative years; most are forced to do so under difficult circumstances. Therefore, they should not be treated as if they have done something wrong. Today, countries around the world are actively seeking individuals who can bring their knowledge, skills, and financial resources to contribute to their societies. Yet our own authorities, due to the same negligence I mentioned earlier, have not only deprived the Iranian people of millions of non-Iranians who would love nothing more than a peaceful and joyful visit to Iran, but they have also made no serious effort to create incentives for the return of those who endured severe trauma through migration and separation from their homeland.

This text is an AI-assisted English translation of an interview with Nasser Fakouhi published in Etemad newspaper on August 8, 2025. The original Persian interview can be found at the following source:

https://nasserfakouhi.com/رابطه-خیالن-دیاسپورا-با-مـــام-وطن-گف/