Across cities, villages, shrines, and mountain roads, religious life in the early twentieth century unfolded through practices that joined prayer, poetry, music, pilgrimage, hospitality, and personal allegiance to revered masters. Lodges and private houses received disciples who gathered for recitation, ethical instruction, communal meals, and the remembrance of God. This remembrance, known in Arabic as dhikr and in Persian as zekr, commonly involved the repetition of divine names, Qurʾanic passages, or devotional formulas under the direction of a spiritual guide. Within Iran, such practices belonged to a long Sufi inheritance that had developed inside a predominantly Twelver Shiʿi society. Twelver Shiʿism recognizes a succession of twelve Imams from the family of Prophet Muḥammad. The twelfth, Imam al Mahdī, is believed to have entered occultation in 874 and to remain alive by the will of God until his future return. The authority of the Imams, known as walāya, carried legal, religious, and inward dimensions. Sufi teachers frequently presented their own chains of initiation as extensions of this sacred guardianship, particularly through Imam ʿAlī, whom many lineages regarded as the original transmitter of the interior knowledge received from Prophet Muḥammad. Sufism in Iran did not constitute a single organization governed by a common leadership. It survived through distinct orders, local branches, hereditary families, itinerant dervishes, urban associations, and circles formed around individual teachers. A disciple usually entered the path through an act of initiation and accepted the guidance of a master whose authority had been transmitted through an established spiritual lineage. The master directed prayer, ethical discipline, remembrance, meditation, service, and the interpretation of religious experience. A khānaqāh served as a lodge where members could meet, study, worship, eat, and receive travellers. Some communities possessed substantial buildings and property, while others gathered in private homes or around the tomb of a deceased teacher. These institutions existed alongside the Shiʿi seminaries, where scholars known collectively as the ulema studied Qurʾanic interpretation, theology, jurisprudence, Arabic grammar, logic, and the traditions attributed to Prophet Muḥammad and the Imams. Religious scholars acquired authority through education, teaching, legal competence, and recognition from other scholars. Sufi masters relied upon initiation, discipleship, spiritual reputation, and the continuity of their lineages. Many figures were trained in both worlds. Others regarded the claims of rival authorities with deep suspicion. The Niʿmatullāhī tradition held a particularly important place during these decades. Founded in the late medieval period and established again in Iran during the eighteenth century, it had divided into several branches, each possessing its own succession of masters. One influential current developed around Ḥājj Mīrzā Ḥasan Iṣfahānī, known as Ṣafī ʿAlī Shāh (1835–1899). He settled in Tehran and attracted princes, officials, poets, merchants, and educated members of the capital’s society. His teaching combined Shiʿi devotion, Sufi initiation, Qurʾanic interpretation, moral instruction, and Persian poetry. After his death, leadership passed to ʿAlī Khān Qājār Ẓahīr al Dawla (1864–1924), a member of the royal family who had become his disciple. Ẓahīr al Dawla gave the community a broader public form through the Anjoman e Okhovvat, the Society of Brotherhood, established at the close of the nineteenth century and active throughout the constitutional period. The Society of Brotherhood became one of the most unusual cultural and religious associations of its time. Meetings included Sufi instruction, music, poetry, charitable activity, and commemorations connected with Imam ʿAlī. Musicians who later became major figures in Persian musical history performed in its gatherings, where artistic cultivation carried an ethical and devotional meaning. Members were expected to practice mutual assistance, humility, generosity, and personal discipline. The society attracted people from different social ranks and created a setting where court culture, reformist ideas, religious fellowship, and literary life could meet. Its activities acquired political significance during the Constitutional Revolution, which began in 1905 and led to the creation of the first national parliament in 1906. Many members sympathized with demands for law, representative government, and limits upon royal power. When Mohammad ʿAlī Shāh (1872–1925) ordered the bombardment of the parliament in June 1908, troops also attacked Ẓahīr al Dawla’s residence and the headquarters of the brotherhood. Books, manuscripts, musical instruments, works of art, and personal possessions were destroyed or dispersed. After constitutional forces regained Tehran in July 1909, the association resumed its gatherings and assisted families affected by the conflict. Its history shows how a Sufi circle could participate in cultural reform and public life while preserving the language of spiritual companionship. A different Niʿmatullāhī branch grew around the village of Baydukht near Gonabad in Khorasan. Its most important master at the beginning of the century was Sulṭān ʿAlī Shāh Gonābādī (1835–1909), a scholar and spiritual teacher whose influence extended far beyond his rural centre. He had studied jurisprudence, philosophy, theology, and the intellectual traditions associated with Muḥyī al Dīn Ibn ʿArabī (1165–1240) and Ṣadr al Dīn Shīrāzī, commonly known as Mullā Ṣadrā (1571–1640). His major Qurʾanic commentary, “Bayān al Saʿāda fī Maqāmāt al ʿIbāda,” interpreted revelation through Shiʿi teachings on the Imams and the Sufi understanding of spiritual development. He presented religious life as a disciplined movement toward knowledge of God, guided by obedience to Islamic law, devotion to the family of Prophet Muḥammad, purification of character, and companionship with an authorized master. Baydukht became a destination for disciples seeking initiation, counsel, instruction, and participation in communal rites. Travelling to the master formed part of the spiritual discipline. The journey removed the disciple from ordinary habits and placed personal concerns within a sacred relationship. Sulṭān ʿAlī Shāh’s authority also generated determined opposition. Critics among local religious figures rejected the legitimacy of Sufi initiation and feared the influence exercised by a master over a large body of followers. He was killed in 1909 under circumstances connected with these hostilities. His son Nūr ʿAlī Shāh II (1867–1918) succeeded him and maintained the community during years marked by political disorder and war. Leadership later passed to Ṣāliḥ ʿAlī Shāh (1881–1966), who preserved the Gonabadi lineage through the transition to the new monarchy. Its survival depended upon family continuity, learned writings, personal networks, pilgrimage to Baydukht, and the loyalty of disciples living across the country. Other communities followed less centralized forms of religious life. The Khāksārs preserved customs associated with wandering dervishes, sacred poverty, initiation, and the older traditions of spiritual chivalry. Their name evoked humility before God, since khāk means dust or earth. Khāksār dervishes could be recognized by particular garments, staffs, axes, begging bowls, rosaries, and ritual objects. Some travelled from town to town, visited shrines, received alms, and offered prayers or blessings. Admission into their circles involved ceremonial stages, new spiritual names, instruction in symbols, and obedience to senior members. Their public appearance made them familiar figures in marketplaces, pilgrimage centres, and religious festivals. Respect for their poverty and reputed holiness existed beside criticism of begging, unconventional behaviour, and practices viewed as incompatible with the standards defended by some scholars. The Khāksār world remained internally diverse, and the conduct of one group could not represent every branch carrying the name. The Dhahabiyya maintained an important presence, especially in Shiraz and other southern centres. Its masters cultivated a learned form of Shiʿi Sufism and preserved traditions of Qurʾanic interpretation, prayer, spiritual genealogy, and devotion to the Imams. Kurdish regions in western Iran contained Sunni Qādirī and Naqshbandī communities connected with religious networks extending into Ottoman Iraq. The Qādiriyya traced its spiritual inheritance to ʿAbd al Qādir al Jīlānī (1077–1166), while the Naqshbandiyya emphasized disciplined remembrance, companionship with a guide, and a strong chain of transmission. Kurdish sheikhs frequently acted as teachers, mediators, landholders, and leaders of extended families. Their lodges provided food, education, arbitration, and support during periods of insecurity. Local influence rested upon religious prestige, family alliances, economic resources, and a reputation for sanctity accumulated over generations. Pilgrimage connected Sufi practice with the broader sacred geography of Shiʿi Iran. The shrine of Imam ʿAlī al Riḍā in Mashhad attracted visitors from every province. Imam ʿAlī al Riḍā, the eighth Imam, died in 818 and was buried near the earlier grave of the Abbasid caliph Hārūn al Rashīd. The settlement that grew around his tomb became one of the principal centres of pilgrimage and religious learning in the Islamic world. Travellers also visited Qom, the burial place of Fāṭima al Maʿṣūma, the sister of Imam ʿAlī al Riḍā, as well as countless local shrines associated with descendants of the Imams, revered scholars, and Sufi masters. Visits to such places involved prayer, vows, charity, healing, mourning, and the renewal of family bonds. Markets, guest houses, schools, kitchens, and charitable foundations developed around the larger sanctuaries. Spiritual journeys therefore shaped economic and social life along with personal devotion. Poetry gave these communities a common language. Verses by Jalāl al Dīn Rūmī (1207–1273), Farīd al Dīn ʿAṭṭār (circa 1145–1221), and Ḥāfiẓ of Shiraz (circa 1315–1390) were recited in gatherings and used to express longing for God, the discipline of love, the dangers of pride, and the uncertainty of outward appearances. Their works were familiar far beyond formal Sufi orders. Educated households, musicians, storytellers, clerics, and ordinary believers drew upon the same poetic inheritance. A line of verse could accompany private prayer, public music, moral advice, or conversation. During the constitutional period, older mystical images also entered political writing. Tyranny could be described as captivity to the lower self, while justice could appear as the restoration of spiritual order. Such language allowed inherited religious ideas to enter new discussions concerning parliament, law, education, and national independence. The First World War placed these communities under severe pressure. Although the country declared neutrality in 1914, Russian, Ottoman, and British forces operated across its territory. Warfare, requisitions, disease, hunger, and disrupted travel weakened many institutions. Lodges and shrines continued to distribute food, receive travellers, and support local populations where resources permitted. The Russian Revolution of 1917, the withdrawal of imperial troops, British ambitions, tribal conflicts, and provincial uprisings created further instability. Sufi networks could offer continuity because their authority remained attached to families, sacred places, and relationships of discipleship. They also depended upon safe roads, agricultural income, donations, and the protection of local patrons, all of which suffered during prolonged disorder. Reza Shah (1878–1944) emerged from the Persian Cossack Brigade after the coup of February 1921. He became prime minister in 1923, ended the old dynasty in 1925, and was crowned the following year. His government built a larger army, strengthened the bureaucracy, expanded secular education, reorganized the courts, and imposed greater control over provinces, tribes, associations, and public religious activity. Sufi orders encountered these policies according to their social position and public visibility. Educated urban circles could adapt by emphasizing ethics, literature, and private gatherings. Hereditary lineages relied upon family organization and provincial support. Itinerant dervishes, whose clothing and public conduct stood outside the preferred image of a disciplined national society, faced increasing restrictions. The same state also reduced the institutional independence of the ulema, altered legal education, and transferred important functions from religious courts to government institutions. By 1930, the religious world inherited from the nineteenth century had undergone profound change. Several major masters had died, constitutional hopes had passed through revolution and repression, foreign armies had crossed the country, and a powerful monarchy had extended its reach into regions once governed through local negotiation. Sufi life nonetheless remained active in Tehran, Baydukht, Shiraz, Khorasan, Kurdistan, and many smaller centres. Its endurance rested upon prayer, initiation, poetry, pilgrimage, charity, family memory, and devotion to sacred teachers. The lodge, the shrine, the master’s house, and the gathering of disciples preserved forms of spiritual community that political transformation could regulate without fully extinguishing. Through them, an ancient language of inward knowledge entered the modern century and continued to shape the religious imagination of the country.
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