Records of a Nowruz herald named Haji Firuz not a Pirooz of Norooz are less than a century old, mostly appearing after the abolition of slavery in Iran in 1929, His popularity is linked to the growth of traditional Iranian performances called "Siah Bazi" (blackface theater) in Tehran during the 1920s and 1930s.

Evolving Interpretations

As the character faced scrutiny, various explanations developed:

• Some attribute his blackface to soot from Chaharshanbe Suri fires jumped over before Nowruz10.

• Others view him as a symbol of a freed slave who spreads joy, though this interpretation is also contested4.

It's important to note that while Haji Firouz is a beloved figure in Iranian culture, his portrayal has become increasingly controversial due to concerns about cultural insensitivity and racist undertones79. The character continues to evolve, with some modern interpretations moving away from the traditional blackface depiction 9.

I find the reframing of Haji Firouz a compelling and necessary endeavor, steeped in personal experience and driven by a desire for social change. My lived reality, encountering racist mockery and insults on the streets of Shiraz and Isfahan alongside my former partner, underscores the urgency and deeply personal nature of this project. This is not simply an academic exercise; it is a fight against the harmful stereotypes that have been unjustly projected onto Haji Firouz and, by extension, onto Afro-Iranians and people of color.

My own experiences, walking hand-in-hand with my former partner through the streets of Shiraz and Isfahan, being subjected to the sting of racist slurs and mocking laughter, have fueled my determination to challenge the distorted image of this iconic figure. Those moments of hurt and anger, etched in my memory, are a constant reminder of why this work is so crucial. It's not just about Haji Firouz; it's about every person who has been judged and diminished because of the color of their skin.
 

The core of this reframing lies in reclaiming the cultural narrative surrounding Haji Firouz. The blackened face, often misinterpreted as a symbol of poverty or servitude, must be understood within its complex historical and cultural context. As you rightly point out, the soot from the fire, a symbol of transformation and renewal in many cultures, and the echoes of Afro-Iranian artistry in the character's performance are key elements that have been tragically overlooked.

Let's unpack this further. Anthropologically, performance traditions often employ masks and body paint to transcend the individual and embody archetypes, deities, or spirits. Consider the blackened faces of performers in various African theatrical traditions, often signifying ancestral presence or powerful forces of nature. Similarly, in some indigenous cultures, body paint signifies a connection to the land, to the spirit world, or to a particular social role within a ritual context. In the case of Haji Firouz, the blackened face can be interpreted as a theatrical device, not a marker of social standing. The blackened face may also allude to the blackness of space, the night sky, which is associated with rebirth and the beginning of the new year.
 

Philosophically, we can approach this reframing through the lens of phenomenology, focusing on the lived experience and perception of the character. By shifting the focus from a Western, and often implicitly racist, gaze that equates blackness with negativity, we can begin to understand Haji Firouz through the eyes of those who created and celebrated him. This requires us to move beyond surface appearances and delve into the deeper meaning embedded within the performance. His joyful demeanor, his witty pronouncements, and his role as a harbinger of spring suggest a figure of wisdom, resilience, and perhaps even a touch of the trickster archetype.

The comparison you draw to the wisdom and self-sufficiency of Afro-Iranians you have personally known is crucial. It highlights the disconnect between the stereotypical portrayal of blackness in certain Western contexts and the lived reality of Black individuals, including those in the Iranian diaspora. Your experience offers a powerful counter-narrative, demonstrating that blackness, in this context, is not synonymous with poverty or need. Instead, it embodies a rich cultural heritage and a profound connection to tradition. The “wisdom” of Haji Firouz is an embodied wisdom, gleaned from a connection to a complex history, and his “lack of need” could be read not as material wealth, but as a spiritual and cultural richness that transcends the superficial.

This reframing is not merely about correcting a historical misunderstanding; it is about dismantling a harmful system of representation that perpetuates racism and prejudice. It is about empowering marginalized communities to reclaim their cultural heritage and challenge the dominant narratives that have sought to diminish their contributions. By emphasizing the artistic, spiritual, and philosophical dimensions of Haji Firouz, we can transform him from a figure of ridicule into a symbol of cultural pride and a testament to the enduring resilience of Afro-Iranian identity. This work will help to decolonize the narrative around the figure, and in doing so make progress towards a more inclusive and just world.
 

The Afro-Iranian Community: Beyond Haji Firuz Blackface, the Slave Trade, & Bandari Music

When talking about the diversity of Iran, most people will recall the various ethno-linguistic groups that are equally native to the Iranian plateau, like Persians, Azeris, Gilakis, Baluchis, and others who have migrated to the region through the centuries. In these discussions, however, Afro-Iranians and those of African descent are often ignored. Perhaps this stems from their limited exposure in mainstream Iranian culture. Or maybe it is because the legacy of African slavery in Iran contradicts the ever-so-pervasive Aryan myth of perfection and civilization. Regardless, most Iranians forget the Afro-Iranians and their rich traditions, despite their prominent cultural influence that persists today.

Many Iranians know and love Haji Firuz, the jovial singing icon that pops up for every Persian New Year, wishing everyone good and happy tidings for the upcoming year. While many regard Haji Firuz as a sort of Santa Claus figure, there is one marked difference between the two: Haji Firuz is black.
 

In Iran, historians like Mehrdad Bahar have tried to explain away the blackface with references to ancient Iranian symbols, but his theories have little basis in history and are met with much skepticism by academics. Instead, another scholar, Jafar Shahri presented Haji Firuz as a more contemporary addition to the Norooz cheer, an African slave who serves an Iranian master. This version is supported by his Norooz rhyme, in which Haji Firuz addresses his master and encourages him to hold his head up high and be jolly.

Arbābe khodam, sareto boland kon, My master, hold your head up high,
Arbābe khodam, khodeto negah kon, My master, look at yourself,
Arbābe khodam, boz boze ghandi, My master, the billy goat!
Arbābe khodam, chera nemikhandi? My master, why don’t you laugh?

​

In Behnaz Mirzai’s documentary Afro-Iranian Lives, she interviewed different members of the Afro-Iranian community in Qeshm, an island in the Persian Gulf, to better understand the practice of zar, a belief that people can be possessed by up to seventy-two different kinds of winds. The belief in zar can also be found amongst indigenous populations in Egypt, Sudan, and Ethiopia.

Despite the popularity of bandari music, however, the depiction of Afro-Iranians in popular media is fairly scant. The most famous portrayal of an Afro-Iranian is Bahram Beizai’s 1989 film Bashu: the Little Stranger. The film follows the story of a boy who is orphaned by the Iran-Iraq war and escapes war-torn Khuzestan for safety.
Bashu finds himself in the entirely foreign Mazandaran province in Northern Iran, where his adoptive mother buys extra bars of soap to wash his skin clean from its darkness, children bully him for his complexion, and villagers call him a bad omen. Baizai addresses racism and ignorance directly, taboo topics in mainstream Iranian culture.
 

The neglect of Afro-Iranians by most Iranians stems from a number of factors, most of which stem from the Aryan myth. The Aryan myth effectively whitewashed Iran’s history, leading many to believe that true Iranians are only light-skinned and that Iran never engaged in slavery. Beyond this, the lack of Afro-Iranian presence in media further reinforces any preconceived notions that exist about Africans in Iran: that they simply do not exist.

Regardless of the reasons for the neglect, it is important to acknowledge the presence and history of the Afro-Iranian communities, not only for their sake but with the intention of better confronting racist narratives, like the Aryan myth, that excludes so much of Iran’s population.

​

Standing in the middle of a crowd, the man in this video relates his experiences with lighter-skinned Iranians in Tehran pestering him questions about his blackness. Because many are unfamiliar with Afro-Iranians, especially in more northern areas of Iran like Tehran, many quickly assume that people with darker skin are foreigners. These assumptions lead to much confusion with the so-called “foreigner” who begins speaking Persian. In this man’s experience, people in Tehran stupefied by his Persian approached him and asked,

“Excuse me, sir? Excuse me? But why are you Black? Why are you Black?”

Perhaps if, as Iranians, we educate ourselves, fewer Afro-Iranians will be perceived as foreigners or as “less Iranian” than the rest of us.

From the perspective of social psychology, this reframing is about much more than changing individual opinions; it's about shifting the collective consciousness surrounding Haji Firouz and, by extension, challenging ingrained societal biases. We know that stereotypes are deeply entrenched cognitive structures that influence how we perceive and interact with the world. They are often formed through repeated exposure to biased representations in media, literature, and social interactions. In the case of Haji Firouz, the dominant narrative has, for too long, perpetuated a negative stereotype associated with blackface, linking it to minstrelsy and racist tropes prevalent in Western history.
 

Social psychology teaches us that prolonged exposure to these negative stereotypes can lead to implicit biases, which are unconscious attitudes and beliefs that affect our judgments and behaviors. These biases can manifest in subtle ways, such as microaggressions, or in more overt forms of discrimination, as I experienced firsthand in Iran. The laughter and insults directed at us were not just isolated incidents; they were manifestations of a broader societal bias that has been reinforced through the misrepresentation of Haji Firouz.
 

This is where the concept of "in-group" and "out-group" bias becomes relevant. By portraying Haji Firouz as a caricature, a figure of ridicule, the dominant culture has effectively placed him, and by association Afro-Iranians, firmly in the "out-group." This creates a social hierarchy where the "in-group," often those who identify with the dominant culture, are seen as superior, while the "out-group" is marginalized and devalued. This is what I felt walking in Iran with my partner, an insidious othering that is fueled by such negative stereotyping in the cultural and historical narrative.
 

However, social psychology also offers us tools for change. The contact hypothesis suggests that positive interactions between members of different groups can help to reduce prejudice and break down stereotypes. By reframing Haji Firouz, we are essentially creating a new form of "contact" – a mediated encounter through a revised cultural narrative. By highlighting his wisdom, his connection to Afro-Iranian traditions, and his role as a bringer of joy and renewal, we are presenting a positive and nuanced representation that challenges the existing negative stereotypes.
 

Furthermore, through the use of persuasive communication, we can begin to shift the dominant narrative. By disseminating information about the true origins and meaning of Haji Firouz, by showcasing the artistic contributions of Afro-Iranians, and by sharing personal stories like my own, we can create a counter-narrative that resonates with people on an emotional and intellectual level.

My hope is that this revised narrative will not only change perceptions of Haji Firouz but also foster greater understanding and empathy towards Afro-Iranians and other marginalized communities. It's a long journey, but one I believe is essential for creating a more just and equitable society, one where the color of a person's skin, whether soot from a fire or a gift from their ancestors, is a source of pride, not prejudice.

This reframing will require both an emotional and intellectual appeal, and will take time to dismantle the long-held biases that have attached themselves to the image of Haji Firouz, but through these efforts we can start to unravel these negative connotations, and give back agency to Afro-Iranians in their own cultural identity.