From Persepolis to Glasgow: The Cultural Legacy of the 2,500-Year Celebrations S. Rouzbeh 2026-10-17 A personal memory of a treasured book in a Glasgow home opens a reflection on Iran’s cultural presence abroad, the 1971 celebrations and the tourism opportunities the country could have developed. S. Rouzbeh — As the fifty-fifth anniversary of the celebrations marking 2,500 years of Iranian monarchy coincides with Empress Farah Pahlavi’s birthday, a memory from several years ago has come back to me. For me, it recalls more than a friendly visit: it offers a clear image of what Iran could have achieved, but never had the opportunity to bring to fruition. About six years ago, I was invited to the home of a Scottish man whom I had first met in Glasgow. When he discovered that I was Iranian, he suddenly became delighted. His eyes lit up and he said he had a surprise for me. He then fetched a book that he had kept safely in a corner of his home: a large, beautifully produced volume on glossy paper, filled with photographs of Iran — its cities, historical buildings, bazaars, handicrafts, people and the many expressions of Iranian culture. He did not keep it like an ordinary book. He had placed it in a protective box, as though it belonged to a valuable collection or were a historical keepsake. It was the first time I had seen the book. When I asked whether he would sell it to me, I said I would pay whatever he asked, but he refused. For him, it was no longer an ordinary commodity to be bought and sold: it had acquired an emotional and cultural value. Even the carpet in his home was Iranian, and he hoped to visit Iran as a tourist. By then, more than forty years had passed since works of this kind had been published. Yet the image of Iran they recorded still held an appeal for an ordinary citizen in Scotland. He was neither a politician nor a cultural official: simply a man in a corner of Europe who kept a book about Iran as a treasure. The photographs accompanying this article show the books and works I have brought together to recall that memory. Their significance lies in more than the beauty of their covers or the quality of their printing. These books show how Iran, in that period, could introduce its history, art, architecture, handicrafts and people’s lives to audiences around the world. That memory prompted me to ask myself: if the image of Iran created before the revolution and presented to the world through books, films, exhibitions and television programmes still held such value decades later in a home in Glasgow, how far might Iran have gone had it continued along that path? How far could we have gone, and what position might we have occupied in the world? Could it have become one of the world’s major tourist destinations? Could it have earned part of its income from culture, art, history and tourism, rather than oil alone? And today, instead of speaking of lost opportunities, might we have seen a country ranked among the leaders of the tourism industry? The 2,500-year celebrations took place from 12 to 16 October 1971, corresponding to 20–24 Mehr 1350. The ceremonies were later criticised on various grounds, particularly their expense and extravagance. But judging such an event solely by calculating the cost of a few days of ceremonies does not give a complete picture. The more important question is what the Shah and Farah Pahlavi hoped to achieve by holding the celebrations. The Shah wanted to connect ancient Iran, contemporary Iran and the country’s future: to present a country that, after centuries of weakness, occupation and underdevelopment, had regained its historical self-confidence. In his speech at Pasargadae, he addressed Cyrus: ‘Cyrus, sleep in peace, for we are awake.’ Asked about the celebrations’ lasting value, the Shah emphasised the same outlook: a country with a proud past, which had faced weakness and occupation for several centuries, could find its feet again through a sense of purpose and lay the foundations of a better future. His aim, then, was more than to host a party. The celebrations formed part of a project to rebuild Iran’s standing in the world. Farah Pahlavi also saw the event within a framework broader than royal ceremony. In her account, some of the expenditure went towards schools, village electrification, guesthouses, roads and programmes that remained in Iran after the celebrations ended. One example can be seen in Marvdasht. Exhibitions introducing Iranian culture and art in cities around the world, conferences, concerts, radio and television programmes, and the promotion of handicrafts all formed part of the same outlook. Here we should consider an idea that has received less attention: the celebrations were a form of Iranian cultural export. Iran did more than invite foreign guests to Persepolis. It also placed its history, architecture, literature, music, art, handicrafts and people’s lives before the eyes of the world. Persia: Bridge of Turquoise is a clear example of this cultural policy. The book was published in the United States and Canada in 1975, four years after the celebrations. The Canadian photographer Roloff Beny, together with Seyyed Hossein Nasr and Mitchell Crites, produced a large illustrated work on Iran, introducing its bazaars, architecture, handicrafts, people, music, rituals, landscapes and historical monuments to English-speaking readers. Another book, about Farah Pahlavi, was published in London in 1978, a year before the revolution. These works show that introducing Iran to the world was not confined to a few days of celebrations: it continued for years through books, images and cultural narratives. Tourism figures also show that Iran was on a path of growth during that period. The number of foreign tourists rose from about 300,000 in 1970 to approximately 415,000 in 1972 — an increase of nearly 38 per cent. By 1977, the figure had reached around 690,000. Tourism revenue also rose from about $43 million in 1970 to roughly $152 million in 1977, more than tripling. Of course, not all this growth can be attributed directly to the celebrations. Iran’s tourism development had begun in earlier years, and factors such as economic growth, increased oil revenues and the development of roads, airports and hotels also played a part. But the celebrations undoubtedly gave considerable momentum to Iran’s recognition abroad and strengthened its international image. Had this trend continued, with sustained investment in hotels, roads, airports, the protection of historical monuments, workforce training and international promotion, Iran could have become one of the world’s major tourist destinations. Turkey later showed how history, nature and coastlines could be turned into a large and lasting industry. Iran, too, had four seasons, climatic diversity, thousands of historical monuments, handicrafts and a variety of cultures. The Islamic Republic did not continue along this path. International isolation, political mistrust, cultural restrictions, insecurity, deteriorating infrastructure and neglect of historical heritage destroyed a large part of that opportunity. Today, the question is more than how much the 2,500-year celebrations cost. The more important question is what Iran made of that international attention, and what it lost. And perhaps the billions of dollars that could have been spent on Iranian culture and civilisation have instead been spent for years on proxy forces and rebuilding Iraq, Syria, Gaza and Lebanon. What do those who sought to disrupt the celebrations, along with leftist groups and the Mojahedin, really have to say today about this grave miscalculation of theirs? Perhaps the celebrations’ true value can be found not only in the tents at Persepolis, but in a book that, almost half a century later, its owner in a Glasgow home still valued too much to sell. This small memory forms part of the answer to a larger question: Iran could have turned its history and culture into an asset of global significance, but it did not turn that opportunity into a sustainable future. And in my view, with Prince Reza Pahlavi’s presence, we can still return to that splendour and pride, that cultural and economic strength and international popularity. The signs of light’s victory over darkness, as Empress Farah said in her message of thanks, are close. Source: https://srouzbeh.com/en/posts/entry-1792278156075-8a23e4ad Please credit the author and link to this edition.