Editorial Viewpoint
Priestly ponderings
Among the several controversies that arose over the hosting of the public talk on “Acceptance in Zoroastrianism” by Dr Kersey Antia of Chicago was one of nomenclature.
The Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism (ARZ) and the Association of Inter-Married Zoroastrians (AIMZ) fliers and advertisements for the function referred to him as “Vada Dasturji” (high priest). The orthodox objected stating there were only seven vada dasturs: two in Bombay, two in Udvada, one in Surat, one in Navsari and one in Bangalore.
These prelates were so titled because of their learning, service to the community, lineage and so on. If any new dastur would have to be appointed, due process would have to be followed.
Not so, argued the liberals, noting especially that Nadirshah Unvalla of Bangalore was made a dastur by his anjuman without the consent of the other high priests, several of whom objected to his appointment at the time. Normally the head priest of an atash behram is entitled to be called a dastur if he meets the other requirements. Bangalore has only a dadgah, not an adarian or atash behram, they argued.
Unvalla states that after his anjuman so nominated him letters were sent to other anjumans/priests asking if they concurred with his appointment and then only, he occupied the post. Similarly it could be argued that if Antia was named a dastur by the Chicago Zoroastrians, and if all or a majority of the North American associations agreed, he too could become a high priest.
Dr Maneck Dhalla was named a dastur by the Karachi anjuman in Pakistan. Though he was a scholar, his liberal leanings earned the wrath of the orthodoxy who questioned his right to dasturship.
The late Dr Framroze Bode was publicly denigrated by the refrain “he is not Dastur Bode, he is not Dr Bode, he is not even Ervad Bode. He is Mister Bode.” His performance of the Vansda navjotes in the early 1900s in Gujarat rankled the conservatives.
One could argue that guidelines should be drawn up to define who is a dastur and who is not. But is the nomenclature relevant? Should the priesthood be hereditary to begin with? How and when did the practice arise? Did we borrow it from Hinduism or did we follow this norm of lineage in ancient Iran. After all, in Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, any person so inclined can, by and large, become a priest. It is a calling, not a sinecure handed down from father/mother to son/daughter.
The late scholar Shams-ul-Ulema Dastur (Dr) Darab Peshotan Sanjana, former principal of the Sir Jamshedji Jijibhoy Zarathushti Madressa in Bombay in his volume Collected works published in 1932 notes that both the Avesta and the Shahnamah distinguish four classifications that existed in ancient Iran, namely: priests, warriors, farmers and handicraftsmen.
Sanjana, quoting German scholar Dr Friedrich Von Spiegel states that caste only exists in countries that are “extremely fertile and rich in natural productions… Wherever such facilities for earning a livelihood exist, castes, in my opinion, must naturally be formed...
“But all these circumstances, which favor or facilitate the rise and development of castes, are not at all to be met with in Iran. Here the soil is on the whole supposed to be extremely poor. In many parts it can be used only for pasture; and, wherever agriculture is possible, it requires most careful cultivation, much labor and diligence.
“The climate is anything but genial. It is a continental climate… varying between the extremes of heat and cold. Any restriction to a particular kind of vocation is out of the question. Otherwise, the people would soon feel the effects of famine. In Iran everyone must work according to his strength and ability and without any long relaxation in order to make a living.
“The athravans, perhaps, form a solitary exception. Yet, even regarding them, it is uncertain whether they had no other sources of income than the exercise of their priestly functions.
“If the orders of priests, warriors and farmers had been castes, there would certainly have been invented some myth representing this division as eternal and ordained by God. Brahmanical legends of such a kind are not wanting. But it is actually a priestly tradition which describes the three orders as being of one nature and one kind. Indeed, the Avesta derives all the three orders from Zarathushtra, whereby they are bound together rather than sundered…
“It is thus proved that not even the athravans formed a caste properly so called. Yet there cannot be any doubt that in course of time they constituted themselves a class distinct from the other orders. It must have gradually become a recognized rule that only the sons of priests should be ordained as priests. At least such had naturally a preferential claim to this privileged rank...
“Among the modern Parsis the sacerdotal dignity is inherited from father to son. A layman cannot acquire it. A priest, on the contrary, is free to embrace another calling. Thus usage has become established in course of time and has acquired the force of law.”
Sanjana further surmises “that the athravans were not properly natives of eastern Iran. They had their principal seat in Media whence they emigrated to the east. It was by such emigrant priests that the doctrine of Zarathushtra was announced to the people of Balkh, Merv, and Herat, of Soghd and Khvarizm, of Seistan and Kabul.”
Citing the missionary work of the athravans, Sanjana quotes a legendary prince, Kersani, as stating, “No more shall an athravan come into my country to make proselytes.” But Kersani was vanquished and the priests succeeded “in gaining over his people to their new doctrine.”
Thus the myths that priesthood is hereditary and there was no proselytizing in Zoroastrianism are debunked by a scholar of great standing and repute. It is now up to the community to further debate these contentious issues and find a resolution that befits the true origins of the faith.
The Association for Revival of Zoroastrianism (ARZ) and the Association of Inter-Married Zoroastrians (AIMZ) fliers and advertisements for the function referred to him as “Vada Dasturji” (high priest). The orthodox objected stating there were only seven vada dasturs: two in Bombay, two in Udvada, one in Surat, one in Navsari and one in Bangalore.
These prelates were so titled because of their learning, service to the community, lineage and so on. If any new dastur would have to be appointed, due process would have to be followed.
Not so, argued the liberals, noting especially that Nadirshah Unvalla of Bangalore was made a dastur by his anjuman without the consent of the other high priests, several of whom objected to his appointment at the time. Normally the head priest of an atash behram is entitled to be called a dastur if he meets the other requirements. Bangalore has only a dadgah, not an adarian or atash behram, they argued.
Unvalla states that after his anjuman so nominated him letters were sent to other anjumans/priests asking if they concurred with his appointment and then only, he occupied the post. Similarly it could be argued that if Antia was named a dastur by the Chicago Zoroastrians, and if all or a majority of the North American associations agreed, he too could become a high priest.
Dr Maneck Dhalla was named a dastur by the Karachi anjuman in Pakistan. Though he was a scholar, his liberal leanings earned the wrath of the orthodoxy who questioned his right to dasturship.
The late Dr Framroze Bode was publicly denigrated by the refrain “he is not Dastur Bode, he is not Dr Bode, he is not even Ervad Bode. He is Mister Bode.” His performance of the Vansda navjotes in the early 1900s in Gujarat rankled the conservatives.
One could argue that guidelines should be drawn up to define who is a dastur and who is not. But is the nomenclature relevant? Should the priesthood be hereditary to begin with? How and when did the practice arise? Did we borrow it from Hinduism or did we follow this norm of lineage in ancient Iran. After all, in Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, any person so inclined can, by and large, become a priest. It is a calling, not a sinecure handed down from father/mother to son/daughter.
The late scholar Shams-ul-Ulema Dastur (Dr) Darab Peshotan Sanjana, former principal of the Sir Jamshedji Jijibhoy Zarathushti Madressa in Bombay in his volume Collected works published in 1932 notes that both the Avesta and the Shahnamah distinguish four classifications that existed in ancient Iran, namely: priests, warriors, farmers and handicraftsmen.
Sanjana, quoting German scholar Dr Friedrich Von Spiegel states that caste only exists in countries that are “extremely fertile and rich in natural productions… Wherever such facilities for earning a livelihood exist, castes, in my opinion, must naturally be formed...
“But all these circumstances, which favor or facilitate the rise and development of castes, are not at all to be met with in Iran. Here the soil is on the whole supposed to be extremely poor. In many parts it can be used only for pasture; and, wherever agriculture is possible, it requires most careful cultivation, much labor and diligence.
“The climate is anything but genial. It is a continental climate… varying between the extremes of heat and cold. Any restriction to a particular kind of vocation is out of the question. Otherwise, the people would soon feel the effects of famine. In Iran everyone must work according to his strength and ability and without any long relaxation in order to make a living.
“The athravans, perhaps, form a solitary exception. Yet, even regarding them, it is uncertain whether they had no other sources of income than the exercise of their priestly functions.
“If the orders of priests, warriors and farmers had been castes, there would certainly have been invented some myth representing this division as eternal and ordained by God. Brahmanical legends of such a kind are not wanting. But it is actually a priestly tradition which describes the three orders as being of one nature and one kind. Indeed, the Avesta derives all the three orders from Zarathushtra, whereby they are bound together rather than sundered…
“It is thus proved that not even the athravans formed a caste properly so called. Yet there cannot be any doubt that in course of time they constituted themselves a class distinct from the other orders. It must have gradually become a recognized rule that only the sons of priests should be ordained as priests. At least such had naturally a preferential claim to this privileged rank...
“Among the modern Parsis the sacerdotal dignity is inherited from father to son. A layman cannot acquire it. A priest, on the contrary, is free to embrace another calling. Thus usage has become established in course of time and has acquired the force of law.”
Sanjana further surmises “that the athravans were not properly natives of eastern Iran. They had their principal seat in Media whence they emigrated to the east. It was by such emigrant priests that the doctrine of Zarathushtra was announced to the people of Balkh, Merv, and Herat, of Soghd and Khvarizm, of Seistan and Kabul.”
Citing the missionary work of the athravans, Sanjana quotes a legendary prince, Kersani, as stating, “No more shall an athravan come into my country to make proselytes.” But Kersani was vanquished and the priests succeeded “in gaining over his people to their new doctrine.”
Thus the myths that priesthood is hereditary and there was no proselytizing in Zoroastrianism are debunked by a scholar of great standing and repute. It is now up to the community to further debate these contentious issues and find a resolution that befits the true origins of the faith.
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