In the Persian Empire of the book of Esther, the Gnostic fire ... - WBM

Zoroastrianism
n November 26, 2008,
a Pakistan-based
terrorist group
unleashed three days
of fatal strikes on Mumbai,
India. People around the world
looked on in horror as the attacks,
primarily in the city’s high-class southern
end, targeted economic, tourist, transportation,
and medical centers. Beyond the obvious
tragedy for the residents of Mumbai, the
majority of whom are Hindu, for two small
religious groups with communities spread
across the globe, the Mumbai assault struck
personally. The Parsis – a group of Zoroastrians
who immigrated to India from Iran in the
Middle Ages due to religious persecution –
witnessed the attacks up close. For centuries,
the Parsi community has been concentrated
in South Mumbai, and some of the structures
targeted were proud symbols of its success on
the subcontinent. Among Jews, the focus of
the attacks was the Chabad House – a spiritual
and physical watering hole for Israeli and other
Jewish tourists located in an old Zoroastrian
landmark known as Nariman House. Three
years on, the attacks remain a painful memory
for Jews. In the Israeli media, discussions of
the Mumbai tragedy are often heartbreakingly
juxtaposed with a photo of the smiling, radiant
young religious couple who ran the Chabad
House, who were murdered there along with
four others.
A few months before the attacks, I was living
in Manhattan’s Little India. One rainy Friday
afternoon, I sat down with anthropologist Leila
Vevaina of the New School,
who was writing a thesis
on notions of communal
space in Mumbai’s Parsi
neighborhood, where she
was born. In the course of her
research, Leila had learned of the Jewish
concept of the eruv and was fascinated by the
way eruvin have encouraged Orthodox Jews
to congregate in neighborhoods delineated by
ritual poles and strings. Leila interviewed me
extensively. As a “native informer,” I initiated
her into the intricate and controversial world
of eruv building. For my part, I learned
about the distinctively rich texture of Parsi
life. As I listened to Leila’s descriptions of
her family-centered community, with its
emphasis on education, drive, and success, and
the intertwining of ritual and food, it began
to sound familiar. Knowing she had done
considerable field work in South Mumbai, I
sent her an e-mail when the attacks struck to
check that she was safe. I was relieved to learn
that, although shaken, she and her family had
escaped harm.
One or Two?
My observations about the similarities between
Jews and Parsis are not the product of a private
idiosyncrasy. Indians often refer to Parsis as
“the Jews of India” – something of a misnomer,
since Jews have been in India longer than
Parsis. Recent writings on Zoroastrianism
abound with comparisons to Jews and their
The name
of the arch
villain, Haman,
seems to
come from
hammanah –
“of like mind”
– for rulers
tend to cherish
yes-men
The victories of Darius I are
depicted on a monument in
Behistun, Iran. This section
shows Darius, at center, facing
his captives. The inscription
proclaims Ahura Mazda as the
deity who granted Darius his
kingdom
Photo: dynamosquito
The Faravahar symbol has
come to represent the
Zoroastrian religion over the
centuries, although opinion
is divided as to whether it
depicts Ahura Mazda or the
“ancient souls” also revered
by Zoroastrians. Wall painting
from a fire temple in Taft, Iran
Photo: Alan D. Coogan
32 February/March 2012 www.segulamag.com