In the tradition of warriors
Home » Blog » Ali Shariat » In the tradition of warriorsAli searches the city of Esfahan to discover the ancient traditions of Pahlevan knights are still practised today.
In 55 BC, in clear violation of a peace treaty, Roman General Clasus marched 40,000 Roman soldiers into Persia. About 15,000 Persian soldiers faced the seven Roman legions on the battlefield. Despite the difference in numbers, the Persians defeated the Romans. Of the 40,000 Romans assembled on that day, 30,000 were killed in battle and only 500 made it back to Rome.
The Romans were not prepared for the type of soldiers they faced. These were soldiers known as Pahlevan.
They were armoured knights, who, like the knights of Europe some 1,500 years later, lived by a strict code of chivalry, honour and tradition. They were also trained in an ancient martial art form that prepared them mentally and physically to endure deserts, escape enemy captivity, handle weapons and march long distances. To this day, the tradition of the Pahlevan lives on and their ancient military training has been transformed into modern exercise.
When I was about 11, I was lucky enough to accompany my father to a Zoor Khane (house of strength) in Shiraz, the Iranian city that made Australian wine famous, and where modern Pahlevan train. I remember sitting high up in the Zoor Khane and watching them train; doing strange push-ups, waving heavy clubs and later spinning around the arena. My father explained to me the different things they were doing and why they were important. It had been a long time since I last visited such a place, so I decided to try and find one.
After some searching, and with the help of some directions, I was able to find a Zoor Khane in an older part of Esfahan. Down an apparently deserted alley, just past a mosque, was an inconspicuous door. Above it, in modest writing were the words I was looking for: Zoor Khane. I stuck my head around the door to see a familiar sight. In a pit just below ground level was an arena for training. The walls of the room were about eight metres high and covered in photos of past Pahlevan and ancient weapons, making it almost like a shrine. At the far end of the room were steps that also doubled as seats. At the top of the steps there was an area for the members to get changed and train privately.
I looked back out into the street to see an old man walking towards me. He was a short man, about 70 or 80 years old and he walked pretty briskly for someone his age.
“Are you okay my son?” he asked, in a rich Esfahani accent. His voice revealed his age and was filled with a humble concern. I told him I had come from overseas and that I was keen to see the Pahlevan train. “No problem. I am Arash and this is my gym,” he said.
Training started at 9:15pm so until then I was free to look inside and take as many photos as I wanted. Iranians are pretty private people so being given free licence to take photos in a place such as a Zoor Khane was an honour. He showed me around his gym, pointing out the photos of himself in his younger days.
By the time I had had my fill of looking at old photos the first member walked in. He was smaller in build than me. Like Arash, he walked smoothly and looked solid. One by one the members came in, dressed in ordinary clothes. They went upstairs and got changed, to re-emerge as Pahlevan. They wore special shorts made of leather, decorated in traditional patterns. A firm belt at the top of the shorts protects the back and a slit on the outside the knees allows the wearer to move freely. They wore a simple t-shirt for modesty, but in old times Pahleven would have gone bare-chested.
They greeted each other casually, as though they were brothers—even little Amir, who was about ten years old. To strangers like me they were more humble and respectful, shaking my hand firmly and greeting me accordingly.
Then Arash emerged, dressed in his gear too. He assumed his position just above the arena, behind a microphone. Above his seat were two bells and he rested a Tombac (a goat skin drum) on his knee and signalled for me to sit nearby. Once the others saw he was ready they quickly assumed their positions in the ring. Arash started drumming and they began their training.
It was just as I remembered it as a child. Arash would beat the drum and sing poems from ancient times; poems from Hafez (one of Iran’s greatest poets) or from the Shahnameh (the epic Book of Kings) increasing the feelings of patriotism amongst the members and setting the pace and pattern of their exercises. He would ring the bells when it was time to change to a new exercise. With each new exercise a different member would enter the centre of the ring to lead the others.
Watching the Pahlevan is like a mix of sporting, theatrical and religious experience. I must admit I really wanted to join in. The rhythm of the drumming and fluidity of the movements of the Pahlevan is all too enticing. Unfortunately I'm not half as fit as them, nor as coordinated.
They did several exercises that night. The most notable exercise was one where they prepared their shoulders, backs and arms for basic weapon movements. It consisted of moving huge weights shaped like oversized clubs, with graceful circular motions of the arms. It was crazy to see even the smallest sized guys move 40 kilogram weights as though they were feather dusters!
Once the training had finished the Pahlevan gathered to pray for Arash, the members, and all those who had come before them. In a final gesture of kindness, Arash then instructed them to come together so that I could take a group photo for you to see.
Fri July 09, 2010 @ 12:14 AM
