Chapter 4 argues that the pilgrimage to Karbala cannot be fully explained either through the lens of the Shia discursive tradition or by instrumentalist reasoning alone, but must be understood as a tension between the two. Accordingly, this chapter turns to the practice of self-flagellation in mourning rituals for Hossein—a practice currently banned in the Islamic Republic.1
In the case of the chest-beating ritual discussed in Chapter 3, I observed how the ritual’s scope expands when it is linked to sound culture. The “tactics” of the people are more visible in dance than in music, as dance involves overt physical actions. In chest-beating, participants likewise seem to focus more on bodily movement than on religious discourse. As a ritual act, self-flagellation is even more excessive—extending beyond discourse into a domain of visceral, embodied intensity. Yet while it retains support among some practitioners, it is officially banned by the state. This chapter examines how the state confronts the excesses of devotional bodily practices through the example of self-flagellation, and it explores the broader implications of banning particular rituals.
On 11 October 2016—the Day of Ashura—I was in Tehran early in the morning to observe Hossein’s mourning rituals in the neighborhood where I lived. At noon, after the heyʾat group I had been following completed its street procession, I accompanied several members to a nearby ḥoseynīye (ceremonial compound). Inside, we were served gheyme—a tomato-based stew of meat and yellow split peas commonly eaten in Iran—laid out on a thin plastic rug (sofre) and served in plastic containers. Gathered in the ḥoseynīye were adult members from various neighborhood heyʾats. During the meal, one of the men seated near me showed me a video on his smartphone. It depicted a black hut (tekīye) where members of his heyʾat had assembled. Standing at the front of the gathering were two men clad in long white robes, holding the hilts of daggers with both hands, their arms hanging down in front of them. After chanting a few words, they raised their arms and struck the daggers against the backs of their heads multiple times. Shortly thereafter, blood could be seen dripping from their scalps. The man with the smartphone seemed pleased at my amazement as I watched the video.
In the course of researching Hossein’s mourning rituals, I gradually became aware of the existence of the self-flagellation. However, based on what I had read, I had formed the preconceived notion that the ritual was no longer practiced, as it had been banned. I was therefore surprised to discover that it was being carried out so close to my own home. After the meal, I returned home, and that evening I visited a nearby qahve-khāne (traditional teahouse) that served water pipes. After exchanging greetings with several regular patrons, the conversation turned to the day’s mourning rituals for Hossein. When I mentioned that I had watched a video of a self-flagellation rite, the men in the shop reacted with indignation. They insisted that such rituals are prohibited in Islam, and some explicitly cited the fatwa issued by the Supreme Leader. On another occasion, when I recounted the same experience to a group of friends
The contrast between those committed to the regime’s brand of Islamism and those who oppose it and embrace Western values is often cited as a source of societal tension in Iran. In particular, the latter group is typically portrayed as being oppressed by a regime that enforces religious norms (e.g., Khosravi 2008). However, antipathy toward self-flagellation rituals appears to be shared across this ideological divide. Both individuals whose behavior aligns with the regime’s religious ideology and could be described as “religious” (maẕhabī), and those who do not conform to such norms, often express the same aversion to these rituals. It can thus be argued that this attitude reflects a value shared at a level that transcends ideological conflict.
Given that Hossein’s mourning rituals have been promoted by the state as part of its broader effort to legitimize the Islamic Republic (as discussed in previous chapters), the state’s prohibition of self-flagellation rituals appears paradoxical. What does this prohibition signify? To answer this question, we must once again consider both the discursive traditions and the instrumentalist logic that shape state–religion relations in Iran.
This chapter begins by providing an overview of self-flagellation rituals and their place in contemporary Iranian society. It then examines how religio-juristic authorities within Shia Islam have addressed these rituals, drawing on the framework of the Islamic discursive tradition to show that the ritual’s excesses often exceed the bounds of established religious custom. The chapter concludes by analyzing the implications of the state’s prohibition on self-flagellation and the various mechanisms through which this ban is enforced.
The Social Status of the Self-Flagellation Ritual
The self-flagellation ritual, known as qame-zanī (qame meaning “dagger” and zanī meaning “beating”), involves striking one’s own head with a dagger blade to induce bleeding (Figure 15). In Arabic, the practice is called taṭbīr, and it is also observed among Shia communities in Lebanon, Syria, and Iraq (Deeb 2006; Nakash 1994; Szanto 2013). While rituals such as chest-beating gatherings and street processions have been part of Shia religious practice since its earliest days, qame-zanī has a comparatively shorter history. According to Nakash (1993), European travel accounts document that self-flagellation was performed by Azeri populations living between the Caucasus and northwestern
Daggers for qame-zanī brought by a participant to a gathering in Ardabil, 2019
Shia self-flagellation rituals are also practiced in Afghanistan and South Asia, including India and Pakistan (e.g., Hyder 2006; Pinault 1999, 2001). In these regions, the ritual typically involves striking the back with a chain to which a blade is attached. This practice is known as tīgh-zanī (“blade-beating”) or zanjīr-zanī-ye tīghdār (“bladed chain-beating”), although it is rarely performed in Iran. Nonetheless, similar rituals do exist in Iran—most notably zanjīr-zanī (“chain-beating”), as discussed in Chapter 2. It remains unclear whether the Iranian practice of striking the head with a sword and the South Asian practice of slapping a bladed chain against the back represent divergent forms of a common ritual tradition or independent developments with similar features.3 As discussed later in the chapter, however, both are classified under Islamic law as acts of bodily harm. For this reason, the term “self-flagellation rituals” is used here as a collective designation for these related practices.
Qame-zanī is performed in the early morning of Ashura, the tenth day of the month of Muharram. Traditionally, participants wear a kafan (a white burial shroud) and have part of their heads shaved. Blood is then drawn by striking a blade against the head (Mohaddesi 1391 [2012/13]: 387). There are regional variations in the method of bloodletting—for example, by cutting the top of the forehead or by striking the area slightly behind the crown of the head (as discussed later in this chapter). Practitioners often describe the ritual as an effort “to reenact [Hossein]’s martyrdom in Karbala by shedding their own blood” (Nakash 1993: 174). Another interpretation is that it serves as a demonstration of one’s willingness to shed blood for Imam Hossein (Mohaddesi 1391 [2012/13]: 388).
How are self-flagellation rituals performed? To illustrate, I describe a ritual conducted by a heyʾat of Azeri participants in Tehran in September 2018.4 On
After a short while, a member of the host family served breakfast. A sofre was laid out on the carpeted floor, and the meal consisted of barbarī bread, cheese, and honey. Once the men had finished eating, tea was served. They then moved to an empty parking area, where around 30 to 40 men dressed in black had already assembled. A closer look at the participants revealed patches of shaved hair or visible scarring on the backs of their heads—raised lines likely resulting from years of repeated qame-zanī. By 7:00 a.m., about 60 people had gathered. Several men stood guard at the outer gate of the house to prevent outsiders from entering and to monitor for possible police or Basij (the regime’s voluntary militia; see Chapter 3, note 2) intervention. One man, wearing a black gauze scarf around his head, reminded the group that photography was strictly prohibited due to recent public criticism of the ritual.6
The ritual now began. One participant lowered the dagger held in his right hand and began to recite a prayer to Imam Hossein. He then raised his hand with full force and struck the blade into the back of his head. A sharp sound—resembling that of a metal bat hitting a ball—rang out. The blade hit a point
Between two and five people would take turns entering the center of the circle to strike their heads with daggers. As they did so, they fervently chanted “Ya Hossein!” or “Ya Abalfazl!” The self-flagellation rituals continued in succession, and at one point, a young man near me fainted and was carried into the house—likely overwhelmed by the sight of flowing blood. One elderly man, unable to strike himself, had another participant with a steadier hand perform the act for him, driving the dagger into the back of his head to draw blood. A small child, perhaps only two or three years old, also had blood spilled on his head when a man cut himself nearby. Nearly everyone present participated in qame-zanī in some form. The ritual lasted until just before midday and was carried out in a solemn, almost mysterious atmosphere, occasionally punctuated by weeping.
In contemporary Iran, self-flagellation rituals are primarily practiced in Azeri regions, in Khomeinishahr near Isfahan—which was established during the Safavid-era Azeri migration—and among communities in Tehran whose roots trace back to these areas. In these settings, the rituals are conducted in secret by devoted adherents and remain largely beyond the reach of state authority.
In Shia-inhabited areas, mourning rituals for Hossein are held throughout Tehran on the Day of Ashura (see Chapter 2). In the neighborhood where I lived, various heyʾats began their street processions around 8 a.m., continuing until noon. During this time, the streets were filled with marching groups and spectators. Of course, not everyone participates in these rituals. Among those critical of the regime, there is concern that such rituals are being instrumentalized to legitimize state domination and to suppress public dissent. Conversely, some participants explicitly distinguish between their reverence for Imam Hossein and their support for the Islamic Republic.
Self-flagellation is widely recognized as part of Hossein’s mourning rituals, regardless of an individual’s level of participation. However, outside the communities that actually perform the ritual, the specific procedures involved are not well known. Merely mentioning qame-zanī often elicits disgust, as it conjures vague, horrifying images of a blood-filled rite. Javad, an Azeri man in his early thirties from Tabriz who had taken me to witness the self-flagellation ritual, expressed strong disapproval afterward. With hatred in his voice,
“It is not written in the Quran.” (50-year-old male, born in Tehran, high school graduate)
“Islam forbids any act that harms the body.” (45-year-old male, from Tehran, high school graduate)
“It is forbidden in Islam to hurt oneself or commit suicide for any reason.” (51-year-old male, from Tehran, high school graduate)
“Qame-zanī is forbidden in the Supreme Leader’s fatwas. So, it is forbidden (ḥarām) in Islam too.” (38-year-old male, from Tehran, junior college graduate)
These interviews suggest that people reject self-flagellation rituals by appealing to various sources of religious authority—citing the fatwas of jurists, referencing scripture, or relying on hearsay that such practices are prohibited in Islam. However, as discussed in Chapter 3, Shia jurisprudential authority is characterized by interpretive pluralism: each jurist exercises independent and parallel reasoning. As a result, opinions on any given issue—including self-flagellation—may diverge. It is therefore necessary to first establish how self-flagellation is situated within this interpretive framework.
Self-Flagellation within the Shia Discursive Tradition
There has long been debate among Islamic jurists over the legal validity of self-flagellation rituals in Islam. A commonly cited basis for the practice is a narrative in which Zeinab, Hossein’s sister, struck her head against a post in grief upon seeing Hossein’s severed head raised on a spear, causing her head to bleed. However, the authenticity of this tradition is now considered weak (Sehati-Sardrudi 1394 [2015/16]: 273–78). A major controversy over the permissibility of self-flagellation rituals emerged in the 1920s within Shia communities in Syria, Lebanon, and Iraq. One of the most prominent opponents was Muhsin al-Amin, a Shia jurist from Jabal Amil in Lebanon who lived in Damascus. In his writings, he openly criticized jurists who condoned or tolerated these rituals.
Contemporary views on self-flagellation rituals among leading religio-juristic authorities
| Name | Place | Opinion on qame-zanī |
|---|---|---|
| Ali Khameneia | Iran | Prohibited; Harmful to the body; Harmful to the name of Shia Islam. |
| Makarem Shirazib | Iran | Prohibited; Harmful to the body; Harmful to the name of Shia Islam. |
| Ali Sistanic | Iraq | Anything that could damage the act of mourning must be avoided. |
| Sadiq al-Shirazid | Iran | Legal or recommended. |
| Hossein Nouri Hamedanie | Iran | Should be avoided as it undermines Shia Islam. |
| Muhammad Saeed al-Hakimf | Iraq | Allowed if no physical or mental harm is caused. |
| Hossein Vahid Khorasanig | Iran | Now politically banned. |
From Khamenei’s website, “Answers to religious questions from viewers regarding the legal provisions of the mourning ritual,” accessed 17 March 2020: http://farsi.khamenei.ir/news-content?id=27988 (site discontinued).
From an article by the Young Journalists Club, “Ayatollah Makarem Shirazi’s Views on qame-zanī,” accessed 17 September 2024: https://www.yjc.ir/fa/news/5367675/نظر-آیت-الله-مکارم-شیرازی-درباره-قمه-زنی (site discontinued).
From “Questions and Answers About Self-flagellation rituals by Sistani in Several Places,” accessed 6 November 2025: http://tatbir.org/?page_id=98.
From Sadiq al-Shirazi’s website, “Q&A,” accessed 17 March 2020: http://www.english.shirazi.ir/qa/ (site discontinued).
From the website of Nouri Hamedani, “The Message of Ayatollah Ali Nouri Hamedani on the Events of Ashura and qame-zanī,” accessed 6 November 2025: https://noorihamedani.ir/post/view?id=7864.
From the website of Muhammad Saeed al-Hakim, “Recommendation of Tatbeer,” accessed 6 November 2025: http://alhakeem.com/en/question/4365/blood.
From the news site fetan.ir, “What is Vahid Khorasani’s view on qame-zanī?,” accessed 17 March 2020: http://www.fetan.ir/home/18655 (site discontinued).
While there are exceptions, the prevailing view in Iran holds that the opinions of Iran-based religio-juristic authorities—including those not listed in Table 3—are subordinate to that of Ayatollah Khamenei, the Supreme Leader. In contrast, in Iraq, leading clerics such as the Najaf-based and highly influential Ali Sistani and Muhammad Saeed al-Hakim (who passed away in September 2021) have regarded self-flagellation as conditionally permissible. These divergent stances may reflect underlying political dynamics. Scholars have pointed to the increasing intervention of state power in religious institutions since Khamenei assumed leadership (Walbridge 2001), suggesting that the views of other Iranian jurists may align with the Supreme Leader’s position due to political pressure. Nonetheless, Shia jurisprudence holds that (mujtahids—jurists qualified to exercise independent reasoning (ar., ijtihād)—are autonomous and are expected to derive legal opinions based on their own interpretations. As a result, although state influence may be inferred, it remains difficult to substantiate such intervention with empirical evidence.
Authentication and Self-Flagellation Rituals as Resistant to the Discursive Tradition
Building on the discussion of the status of self-flagellation rituals in Islamic law in the previous section, this section examines both the practice and the rejection of self-flagellation in light of debates surrounding the “objectification” or “authentication” of Islam and the Islamic discursive tradition.
First, it is important to consider the dividing line between those who perform self-flagellation rituals and those who do not, along with the rationale behind this distinction. A compelling explanation can be found in the concept of the “objectification of Islam”—defined by Eickelman and Piscatori (1996: 37) as “the processes by which many aspects of social and political life become subject to conscious reflection, discussion, and debate” within Muslim consciousness. A frequently cited dimension of this process is the role of mass education and the expansion of mass media, which have enabled broader segments of the population to participate in debates over what constitutes correct Islamic practice.
Anthropologist Lara Deeb, in her study of Hossein mourning rituals in Lebanon, employs the term “authentication” in relation to the objectification of Islam (Deeb 2006: 20). This concept refers to the process by which individuals appeal to a notion of “correct” Islam, and in this context, it specifically denotes the reclassification of self-flagellation rituals as Islamically incorrect. Deeb illustrates this transformation by comparing mourning processions in Nabatiyeh, a town in southern Lebanon where self-flagellation is practiced, with those in Beirut, where such rituals are deliberately excluded. She argues that this shift represents a broader movement from “traditional” expressions of piety toward practices that are actively authenticated within contemporary Islamic discourse.
This framework may also help explain the views of those opposed to self-flagellation rituals, as discussed at the end of the previous section. Opponents typically justified their stance either by deferring to religio-juristic authorities who prohibit the practice or by citing their own interpretations of Islamic
This explanation may also have some persuasive force for the opponents of self-flagellation rituals discussed at the end of the previous section. The reasons given by opponents were either supportive of the religio-juristic authorities that prohibit self-flagellation or were based on their own interpretations of the scriptures that rejected these rituals. In contrast, when I asked some of the participants in the ritual whether they followed any particular religio-juristic authority, they did not attempt to justify the ritual by citing a particular authority or offering scriptural grounds. In addition, according to Saman, who introduced me to the participants, it was not clear whether these people performed other Islamic duties, such as daily prayer, while some of the participants drank alcohol and sold moonshine. Even if Saman’s testimony is open to question, it is true that those who do not practice self-flagellation typically use religio-juristic authorities and scripture to articulate their opposition, whereas participants do not refine their religious arguments to justify their practices. While Deeb’s notion of “authentication” could theoretically legitimize self-flagellation rituals, data on practitioners could not be collected. What can be tentatively said from this is that the dividing line between performing the self-flagellation ritual or not is based on whether the “objectification of Islam,” and its “authentication” in particular, has occurred.
Second, self-flagellation rituals reveal that certain practices do not neatly align with Asad’s unitary conception of “discursive traditions” (Asad 1986b, 2017). Asad introduced this concept in part to critique the tendency of researchers to impose external binaries—such as “intellectual elites” versus “ordinary folk” or “rural believer”—onto their subjects (Asad 1986b). Saba Mahmood (2005), drawing on Asad’s framework in her study of the Egyptian
However, in the case of self-flagellation, it is difficult to regard both supporters and opponents as participating in the same discursive tradition. Those who reject the practice tend to rely heavily on religio-juristic authorities, while practitioners generally refrain from doing so. Rather than forming a shared interpretive framework, their respective approaches reveal a striking divergence in orientation toward religious authority and discourse. Moreover, the reasons given for opposing self-flagellation are often relatively simplistic, which suggests that the act itself resists easy incorporation into structured religious discourse—whether in its justification or its rejection.
Third, the prohibition and negative assessment of self-flagellation rituals by religio-juristic authorities may be compared to the Catholic Church’s stance toward the Protestant Pentecostal movement and, later, the Charismatic movement within Catholicism itself (Miller 2013). The Pentecostal movement, which emphasizes direct personal experiences of the divine—such as speaking in tongues—has often been deemed heretical and dangerous by the Catholic Church, which feared that such experiences might allow believers to bypass institutional authority and scripture. In response, the Church sought to reassert control through its doctrinal discourse. Since the 1960s, however, Pentecostalism has influenced Catholicism from within, giving rise to the Charismatic movement, which advocates spiritual renewal while remaining under the Church’s umbrella. The resulting tension centers on the conflict between institutional religious authority, grounded in scripture and doctrine, and intensely embodied, affective spiritual experience.8
In any case, beyond the religious prohibition of self-flagellation, it is also necessary to consider how the Iranian state enforces its own ban on these rituals. The next section examines the rationale behind the state’s prohibition and its discursive campaigns aimed at delegitimizing self-flagellation.
State Prohibition and the Juridical Logic of Religion
As noted earlier, various behaviors and actions in Iran’s public sphere today are regulated by the state in accordance with the views of Supreme Leader Khamenei. Talal Asad, in his analysis of the modern secular state, observes that “[b]ecause the modern nation-state seeks to regulate all aspects of individual life … no one, whether religious or otherwise, can avoid encountering its ambitious powers” (Asad 2003: 199). Saba Mahmood similarly reframes secularization—not as the withdrawal of the state from the religious sphere, as is often assumed in modernization theory—but as “the state’s reconfiguration of substantive features of religious life” (2013: 47). These perspectives suggest that the modern nation-state, whether secular-liberal or otherwise, remains deeply entangled with religion.
From this perspective, the prohibition of self-flagellation rituals in Iran can be understood as both an expression of Islamic discursive tradition and an exercise of sovereign power by the state. This framing also enables a comparative analysis of two seemingly opposed political regimes: the Pahlavi monarchy, which aimed to build and Westernize a modern nation-state, and the Islamic Republic, grounded in Khomeini’s doctrine of the “guardianship of the Islamic jurist” (velāyat-e faqīh). Despite their ideological differences, both regimes demonstrate how the nation-state seeks to shape religious practice through its authoritative frameworks.
Self-flagellation rituals were banned by the Iranian state during the Pahlavi dynasty (1925–79), prior to the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Following the
Reza Shah, in his drive to modernize Iran and elevate its status vis-à-vis Western powers, regarded self-flagellation as a barbaric practice that could damage Iran’s international reputation (Aghaie 2004: 53). One of the key motivations behind the state’s prohibition, therefore, was to prevent Western observers from interpreting such rituals as signs of “barbarism” or “backwardness.”
Underlying this logic is the internalization of the colonial gaze. The belief in the civilizing imperative—that “barbaric” local customs must be reformed or eliminated in the name of progress—is a hallmark of colonialist ideology. As Asad (2003: 109) notes, this ideology imagines history as a linear movement toward a “humane secular society” in which people are persuaded to abandon “practices that offend against the human.” While Iran was never formally colonized, its rulers, in their effort to build a modern nation-state in competition with the West, internalized the civilization/barbarism binary and sought to eliminate rituals they deemed regressive.9 This ideological background helps explain the prohibition of self-flagellation under the Pahlavi regime.
What, then, of the period following the Iranian Revolution? After 1979, self-flagellation rituals were officially banned not only by the state but also by leading Shia religio-juristic authorities, most notably the Supreme Leader, Khamenei. His position has been a decisive factor in shaping state policy on the issue. The following quotation is from a speech he delivered to fellow jurists in 1994, in which he issued a fatwa prohibiting self-flagellation rituals.10
Qame-zanī is a falsified tradition. This is not God’s teaching, and there is no doubt that God is not pleased with such a practice. For the last couple of centuries, scholars have not had the opportunity to publicly declare that qame-zanī is unlawful or a misguided practice. However, now that an Islamic order has been established, it is a time for the manifestation of Islam. This noble Islamic society should not be portrayed as a small
group of irrational and superstitious individuals, whether to Muslims or non-Muslims. (Taken from a speech given by Khamenei in 1994)11
Khamenei’s speech makes it clear that self-flagellation rituals are not regarded as legitimate forms of mourning. While such practices may once have been tacitly tolerated, the speech argues that now, with the establishment of the Islamic Republic, jurists must publicly condemn self-flagellation, and people should refrain from it to avoid promoting a negative image of Islam. This concern over public disgrace echoes the rationale behind the Pahlavi-era ban.
Notably, Khamenei dismisses self-flagellation outright as “not a religion” and as “irrational and superstitious,” yet offers little explanation for these characterizations. The speech thus appears to rest on the assumption that the audience already regards such rituals as inappropriate. In line with this discourse, Iranian newspapers and broadcast media annually denounce self-flagellation rituals as non-religious and superstitious, effectively excluding them from the public sphere and rendering them invisible.
Governing Ritual through Modern Sensibility
In Iran, the Islamic rationale for banning self-flagellation rituals has become virtually indistinguishable from the state prohibition itself. In addition to direct forms of state power—such as legal sanctions, bureaucratic enforcement, and sovereign authority—there also exists a broader discursive call to refrain from self-flagellation.
One mechanism employed to promote a negative view of self-flagellation rituals is the state-supported campaign encouraging blood donation. For example, the Tehran Blood Transfusion Center issues calls for blood donations beginning on the first day of Muharram and continuing through the twentieth day of Safar, known as Arbain (see Chapter 4). The term ehdā-ye khūn (“the gift of blood”) is commonly used for blood donation, but when framed in a religious context, it may also be referred to as naẕr-e khūn (“the votive offering of blood”). The term naẕr refers to an act performed for the sake of God, often in fulfillment of a vow. For instance, food distributed at roadside stalls during the mourning rituals of Muharram is called naẕrī, and is shared as a form of almsgiving (see Chapters 2 and 4). In this way, naẕr-e khūn positions blood donation as a devotional act. By promoting naẕr-e khūn, state institutions offer a religiously acceptable alternative to self-flagellation, implicitly casting the latter as less legitimate. When I visited Ardabil during Muharram in 2019—where
Other organizations have also conducted campaigns on social media platforms to encourage blood donation as a substitute for self-flagellation rituals. One such initiative is the Shia Blood Donation campaign, launched by the prominent television orator Ali Akbar Raefipour.12 The campaign circulates
Comparison between self-flagellation rituals and blood donation
X(TWITTER):@SHIABLOODDONORS, ACCESSED 6 NOVEMBER 2025: HTTPS://TWITTER.COM/SHIABLOODDONORS/STATUS/913144343741059072.
This campaign promoting blood donation can be seen as appealing to a transformed sensibility shaped in part by the influence of modern Western secular values. As Asad observes, self-flagellation rituals confront “the modern sensibility that recoils from a willing, positive engagement with suffering.” He writes, “Because … pain is not merely a means that can be measured and pronounced excessive or gratuitous in relation to an end” (Asad 2003: 121).13 In other words, the practice of self-flagellation itself eludes modern utilitarian logic, which tends to assess actions in terms of calculable ends and means. Such rituals challenge the assumption that pain must be justified by a measurable purpose, and instead affirm pain as meaningful in and of itself.
Here, the “modern sensibility” that underpins the prohibition of self-flagellation rituals evaluates suffering in instrumental terms: it is justified only when directed toward a specific, recognizable goal, and it rejects what is perceived as “needless suffering.” As an example of how violence has been systematically eliminated from religion, Asad cites the case of the liberalized Christian Church: “the liberalized Church strongly disapproves of monks being whipped at the command of their abbot for penalizable faults—even when the penance has a ritual closure and a dramatic character” (Asad 2003: 122). The contrast drawn in campaign advertisements between the “uselessness” of self-flagellation and the “usefulness” of blood donation vividly illustrates the narrow range of purposes deemed legitimate by modern sensibilities. Within this framework, the blood shed in self-flagellation rituals is considered
This negative contrast between Shia rituals and blood donation campaigns is not limited to Iran. Deeb, in her study of Shia rituals in Lebanon, discusses a blood donation campaign initiated by Hezbollah (Deeb 2006)15 and highlights how changes in the performance of Hossein’s mourning rituals reflect processes of “authentication” linked to modernity. In South Lebanon, where Deeb conducted her fieldwork, traditional street processions often involved the shedding of blood. However, in recent years, such practices have come under criticism, and alternative forms of ritual expression have been promoted. In the mid-1990s, Hezbollah began to suppress self-flagellation rituals, instead encouraging blood donation and other non-traditional forms of mourning. Deeb analyzes these ritual transformations in relation to broader social and political shifts, including political mobilization, rising literacy and education levels, and urbanization. Her work illustrates how the reinterpretation of ritual practice is embedded within larger processes of social change and ideological negotiation.16
In the United Kingdom, the Shia community has also developed a blood donation campaign framed around Ashura. The Imam Hussain Blood
Thus, within the broader framework of Hossein’s mourning rituals across the transnational Shia community, the movement to promote blood donation as an alternative to self-flagellation has taken root across national borders. The precise origins of these campaigns and the networks through which they were established remain unclear. However, they share two key features. First, each community appears to internalize the contested value of self-flagellation rituals in anticipation of potential external criticism—whether for practicing or merely affirming these rituals. Second, through this internalization, the rituals are reconfigured in ways that render them “useful” or acceptable within a broader social and moral framework beyond the religious community itself.17
Addressing Religious Excesses by the State
We have examined the reasons behind the modern state’s prohibition of self-flagellation rituals and the ongoing negative campaigns against these practices in Iran. A central factor shared by both the Pahlavi regime and the Islamic Republic is the internalized imperative to eliminate perceived “barbarism,” often framed through the lens of modern sensibility. In what follows, I turn to the question of how self-flagellation rituals are positioned within religion itself and how they intersect with religious discourse in the context of state
Hossein’s mourning rituals, which were heavily restricted under the Pahlavi regime, received strong state endorsement following the Iranian Revolution. As seen in the cases of chain-beating (Chapter 2), chest-beating (Chapter 3), and pilgrimage (Chapter 4), these rituals expanded and evolved after the revolution, often aligning with the state’s projection of a national-religious identity. Even non-religious elements, such as popular music appropriated into lamentations—as discussed at the end of Chapter 3—have at times been incorporated into these rituals in response to the strong desires of practitioners. Given this broad integration of ritual practice into the cultural and symbolic order of the Islamic Republic, the continued prohibition of self-flagellation rituals stands out as a paradox.
If the state’s endorsement of rituals is approached from an instrumentalist perspective, one could argue that self-flagellation rituals—given their continued support among certain segments of the population—could be sanctioned as a means of harnessing participants’ piety to reinforce allegiance to the regime. However, endorsing such rituals while leaving their “barbaric” appearance intact would risk provoking the “gaze of others,” including critical scrutiny from Western observers and Sunni Muslims. This gaze, which the regime claims to resist, is also selectively mobilized by the state itself. For instance, while Iran’s use of the death penalty and politically motivated arrests have drawn condemnation from foreign governments and human rights NGO s, the regime has often rejected such criticism as Western-centric and has made no substantive reforms in response (Afshari 2001).
In contrast, self-flagellation rituals—unlike the acts commonly condemned by the state, such as the death penalty or political repression—are rooted in religious belief and express a form of religious zeal that arguably aligns more closely with the ideological foundations of the Iranian regime than the attitudes of secular publics who often seek to distance themselves from it. From a purely instrumental perspective, the regime could have harnessed this enthusiasm, incorporating it into its base of support. In doing so, self-flagellation could have been framed as an authentically Iranian religious value, in opposition to Western modernity, which dismisses such practices as “barbaric.”
From the perspective of the discursive tradition, the prohibition of self-flagellation rituals in Iran can be explained as the product of a doctrinal position developed within Shiism—most notably through the authority of Khamenei. However, as previously discussed, the rejection of self-flagellation within this
What the state offers in place of religious discourse is a campaign promoting new forms of bodily practice to replace self-flagellation rituals—most notably, the appeal to blood donation based on utilitarian values, as discussed in the previous section. In other negative campaigns, medical and sanitary arguments rooted in modern science are sometimes invoked. For example, newspapers and media outlets issue warnings about the risk of transmitting hepatitis B and C when ritual daggers are shared among multiple participants.18 Of course, the findings of modern medicine do not necessarily conflict with Islam in a broad sense. However, in these contexts, it is the authority of medical science that is foregrounded. This suggests a strategic substitution, in which the state mobilizes non-religious discourse to compensate for the limited persuasive power of religious discourse in discouraging self-flagellation rituals.
These dynamics also help characterize the Islamic Republic as a polity shaped by competing logics. As Talal Asad notes, self-flagellation rituals conflict with a “modern sensibility” that insists suffering should be eliminated. The Islamic Republic inherited the institutional structure of the modern nation-state from earlier regimes, but overlaid it with an ideological commitment to Islam—one that is not always compatible with modern secular frameworks. This paradox creates a dual possibility: on one hand, the state may instrumentalize religion to serve its own political ends; on the other hand, religious practices may deviate from state-controlled discourse, evade regulation, and ultimately pose a threat to state authority. Increasingly, however, the state appears less concerned with accommodating such religious divergences. The prohibition of
A similar situation has emerged in recent years in connection with the spread of viral infection. In December 2019, a novel coronavirus (COVID-19) was first identified in China and rapidly spread across the globe. On 20 February 2020, Iran confirmed its first case. The outbreak quickly became a social concern, particularly due to the dense gatherings at pilgrimage sites and the devotional touching of sacred surfaces within the shrines of Shia saints. Between 29 Febrary and 1 March 2020, three videos filmed at saintly mausoleums in Qom and Mashhad were widely circulated on social media and international Persian-language news outlets. In one video, a man is seen licking the metal lattice surrounding a saint’s tomb—an act apparently performed as an expression of devotion to the Iranian regime. Kissing the latticework or the walls of the mausoleum is a common practice among Shia Muslims, performed as a sign of reverence for the Imam or in hope of divine intercession. However, the act of licking is widely regarded as excessive. The group behind the videos claimed that the COVID-19 outbreak was an unfounded conspiracy designed to suppress religious devotion, and that the man’s gesture was intended to refute this narrative symbolically.
These videos sparked heated debate on the internet, particularly among Persian-language media outlets outside Iran that are critical of the Islamic Republic. These sources condemned the regime’s disregard for scientific knowledge and its use of religion to manipulate public sentiment. At the same time, the videos were quickly condemned in Iran’s domestic media as well. Jurists in Qom denounced the act of licking the shrine lattice as entirely unorthodox and a distortion of religion. The individual who appeared in the video was subsequently arrested.19 Others, however, claimed that the videos were part of a conspiracy orchestrated by foreign agencies to destabilize the Islamic Republic.20
Paradox of the Ritual
This chapter has explored how both society and the state respond to self-flagellation rituals as part of Hossein’s mourning practices in Iran. Despite being officially prohibited in public spaces, these rituals continue to be practiced by certain groups, such as some Azeri residents. At the same time, there is widespread aversion and opposition to self-flagellation among non-practitioners in Iranian society. Importantly, this opposition does not simply reflect the familiar binary between religious, pro-regime supporters and secular, anti-regime critics that often structures discourse on Iranian society. Instead, rejection of self-flagellation cuts across these divides, suggesting that discomfort with the practice is rooted in broader cultural or sensibility-based norms.
Given the divergent rulings on self-flagellation among Shia religio-juristic authorities, and the Supreme Leader’s clear stance in favor of prohibition, the Islamic Republic’s governance structure has sought to forcefully exclude self-flagellation rituals from public spaces. However, as this chapter has shown, the reasons provided within religious discourse are often unconvincing to some devotees. Instead, the rationale tends to rely on negative rhetoric and appeals to modern sensibilities—forms of reasoning that resonate beyond religious frameworks. This underscores the limitations of religious discourse in regulating embodied religious practices and highlights the broader need to draw upon non-religious modes of authority in attempts to govern ritual behavior.
Ritual drama, such as the Passion of Christ or the Martyrdom of Hussain, has an added dimension. Participants here enact, identify with, undergo, the predetermined agony of figures in Christian and Islamic narratives. In subjecting themselves to suffering (in some cases to self-indicted wounds) they seek in part to extend themselves as subjects. (Asad 2003: 78)
This description—of “playing out, identifying with, and experiencing fatalistic anguish”—does not emerge from the discourse of the practitioners themselves. Rather, it represents an ideal-typical construction offered by Asad. The language here is analytical, not ethnographic; it reflects an attempt to make the practice intelligible to modern sensibilities rather than conveying a lived religious discourse from within the community.
The current Iranian ban on self-flagellation rituals reflects, in part, an internalization of the foreign gaze—a tendency traceable to the Pahlavi era. Some actors seek to discourage the practice through appeals to utilitarian values, such as blood donation campaigns. However, what this chapter has sought to demonstrate is that self-flagellation rituals represent an excess of embodied religious practice—one that exceeds the explanatory and regulatory capacities of religious discourse. As such, a paradox emerges: a state that derives its legitimacy from religious discourse finds itself compelled to invoke forms of authority outside religion in order to govern the bodily excesses it cannot contain.
The rituals discussed in this chapter are practiced within the Azeri-speaking (āẕarī) community of Ardabil. The cooperation of friends from Ardabil was essential in enabling me to conduct fieldwork in this setting. The Azeri are an ethnic group who live between the Republic of Azerbaijan and northwestern Iran and speak Azeri, a Turkic language. In Iran, Azeri populations are primarily concentrated in the provinces of East Azerbaijan, West Azerbaijan, Ardabil, and Zanjan—hereafter collectively referred to as the “Azeri areas.” Accurate demographic data on the Azeri population are lacking. A 2005 estimate suggested that 9 million Azeris lived in Iran out of a total population of approximately 77.8 million (about 12 percent) (Amanolahi 2005), while another source estimated the figure to be between 16 and 24 percent (Elling 2013: 28). The Azeri thus constitute the largest ethnic minority in the country. Due to the geographic location of the Azeri areas, this group was among the first to embrace Western thought and produced several key political figures during Iran’s modernization in the early 20th century. Under the current regime, the Azeri generally enjoy greater political and economic advantages than other ethnic minorities—such as Sunni Kurds, Arabs, Baloch, and Turkmen—because the Azeri, like the majority of Iranians, are Shia Muslims (see Chapter 2; Map 1). Nonetheless, tensions persist between the Azeri population and the Iranian state, stemming from movements advocating for greater rights, cultural recognition, and local autonomy (Elling 2013).
Nakash (1993) speculates that the practice of whipping in Christian monasteries in Italy may have spread to the Caucasus region, where it was subsequently incorporated into Shia rituals.
According to Hyder (2006: 54–55), references to this ritual in South Asia can be found in dictionaries compiled by Orientalists in the late 19th century. He also notes that in Lucknow, India, the Muharram ritual includes walking barefoot over burning coals, and that non-Muslims are allowed to participate.
As briefly noted in Chapter 2, Tehran is a city that has undergone significant development since the 20th century, largely shaped by migration from other regions. Among these migrants, the Azeri constitute the largest group by origin (Madanipour 1998), and some estimates suggest that between one-third and nearly half of Tehran’s population is of Azeri descent (Shaffer 2002). It is also commonly said that most of the small grocery stores (maghāze-ye baqqālī) in Tehran are run by Azeris. In the Jey district of Tehran, where I lived, it was common to hear both shopkeepers and customers speaking Azeri.
To participate in this ritual, I visited another gathering the day before with my Azeri friends. Near the Panzdah-e Khordad metro station—the closest station to the entrance of the Grand Bazaar in Tehran—stands a building known as the Mosque of the Center [Tehran] Residents from the Azeri Area (masjed-e āẕarbāyjānīhā-ye maqīm-e markaz). The interior of the mosque is roughly the size of a basketball court, and when I visited on the eve of Ashura, 200 to 300 men dressed in black were gathered there. The walls were draped with cloth embroidered and adorned with religious phrases, resembling the interior of a hoṣeynīye, a building where mourning rituals are held. As a distinctive touch, the Azeri texts were written in Arabic script.
A poem mourning the death of Imam Hossein was recited in Azeri (rowże-khānī), and men in the audience sobbed with their hands covering their eyes. Afterwards, the chest-beating (sīne-zanī) and self-flagellation with chains were performed in rhythm with the mourning song sung by the maddāḥ. In the past, self-flagellation rituals in Azeri communities in Tehran were held on the eve of Ashura and continued throughout the night. In recent years, however, government crackdowns have intensified, and the rituals have been dispersed into private homes with enough space to accommodate gatherings. With the help of my Azeri friends, I was able to attend such a self-flagellation ritual in a private home in western Tehran.
Qame-zanī rituals have been documented in various locations and uploaded to YouTube, Āpārāt, and other video-sharing platforms.
The translation of this Quranic verse is from Abdel Haleem 2004.
The tension between the Catholic Church and “heretical” practices described here has recurred throughout the history of Christianity. Foucault argues that self-guided resistance emerges within the framework of pastoral governance and is expressed—particularly in mysticism—through eschatological visions and the search for alternative forms of community, such as monastic life, in opposition to Church authority. He writes:
“This [counter-movement] appears very clearly in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries when, threatened by all these movements of counter-conduct, the Church tries to take them up and adapt them for its own ends, until the great separation takes place, the great division between Protestant churches, which basically opt for a certain mode of re-implantation of these counter-conducts, and the Catholic Church, which tries to re-utilize them and re-insert them in its own system through the Counter Reformation. (Foucault 2007: 215)”
The implications of this discussion will be taken up in Conclusion.
Criticism of these rituals came not only from politicians, but also from emerging intellectuals. Caricatures of self-flagellation rituals, for example, appeared in Molla Nasraddin magazines published in the late 1900s (Afary and Afary 2022: 199–203).
This fatwa has also been invoked in discussions surrounding self-flagellation rituals in India (Pinault 1999; 2001).
From Khamenei’s website, “Tatbir is a wrongful and fabricated tradition: Imam Khamenei,” accessed 6 November 2025: http://english.khamenei.ir/news/4209/Tatbir-is-a-wrongful-and-fabricated-tradition-Imam-Khamenei.
Raefipour is the head of the Masaf Institute (janbesh-e maṣāf), an NGO known for its opposition to Zionism, humanism, and Freemasonry.
Asad’s argument is challenging to apply directly. The prohibition of self-flagellation rituals is closely tied to modern secular sensibilities, which—as Asad argues—conflict with the discursive tradition in their aim to deny and eliminate suffering. Conversely, as noted above, the discursive tradition, with its focus on discourse, fails to adequately account for the central role of bodily experience in the practice of self-flagellation.
Asad later observed, “In many modern secular states, public demands have been made and laws passed forbidding religious sacrifice of animals on grounds of cruelty” (Asad 2018: 42). In this regard, although the public slaughter of animals is not prohibited in Tehran, this does not mean the practice is widely accepted or welcomed. During Hossein’s mourning rituals, I witnessed sheep being sacrificed in the alleyways where I lived, with neighbours watching the beheadings. In contrast, in wealthier residential areas in northern Tehran, such rituals are rare, and many residents do not participate in them. These spatial differences also shape the nature of social formations, depending on whether such sacrificial practices occur nearby. For example, when I uploaded photos of animal sacrifice to social media during the same period, some responses in the comments section were critical. This aversion may reflect the spread of what Asad calls “modern sensibilities.” Such sensibilities can operate as a form of power that extends beyond the conscious intentions of either rulers or citizens. The repressive and disciplinary powers currently applied to self-flagellation rituals may similarly emerge or shift as unintended consequences. The future of these rituals in Iranian society will likely depend on how these evolving power relations unfold.
Hezbollah is a Shia Islamic organization formed in Lebanon in the early 1980s that receives support from Iran. Accordingly, its ideology is closely aligned with that of the Iranian regime (Norton 2005).
Drawing on Deeb’s example, Dodd (2014) identifies three key features in the shift from suffering to blood donation within Hossein’s mourning rituals: (1) a move from mind-body unity to mind-body dualism; (2) from salvation in the next life to benefits in this life; and (3) from individual salvation to social salvation.
In the preface to Body & Society Special Issue on Blood Donation, Bioeconomy, Culture, Jacob Copeman (2009) offers a structuralist analysis of ritual readings. He examines the transformation in the symbolic value of bloodletting, contrasting “pre-modern” practices—characterized as wasteful, violent, and unproductive—with the modernist value of blood donation, which is framed as meritorious. Copeman emphasizes the role of analogy, arguing that self-flagellation rituals and blood donation are positively analogous in that both involve the shedding of blood for Hossein, yet negatively analogous in that the former is viewed as wasteful while the latter is seen as virtuous.
For example, see Sharq, 15 Mehr 1395: 17.
“Celebrities’ Fiery Reactions to Licking the Holy Mausoleum and Unconventional Pilgrimage: Licking the Holy Mausoleum is ISIS Heresy,” Hamshahri Online, 1 March 2020, accessed 6 November 2025: https://hamshahrionline.ir/x69p6.
I asked a male friend living in Tehran for his opinion on the incident. He replied that the individual who licked the Holy Temple was indeed a product of the regime’s ideological education, and that the act was deeply ironic. I also spoke with a woman whose opinions I had studied with during my time at the University of Tehran. She holds a PhD in linguistics, regularly engaged in academic discussions with me, and is politically conservative—supportive of former President Ahmadinejad and typically wearing a chador. In a WhatsApp conversation a few days after the incident, she expressed the view that the entire debacle was a British conspiracy.