Yes, they are officially Iranians, but as you say and recent years show that Western supporting Iranians would prefer to be called Persians here and abroad, in contrast to Iranians and especially not Arab.
However, I and the wife have talked with a number of Persians over the years here in our local area and they are NOT afraid to be Persian in America. They always appreciate that I call them Persians. They HATE what the radicals have done to their country and tell me that is the case of the majority in Iran.
As recent as my B/day (1/29/13) at a local resort, I talked to some Persians (easy to tell the difference between Farsi and Arabic). They had great things to say about America. But they don't understand why American has forsaken them and allow the mullahs to grow their world-killing nukes. I had no answer for them.
If that awful cult in Iran were to go away tomorrow, Iranians/Persians could become a world economic power. They are smart, aware, industrious, when not oppressed, have the resources, et al. They love Western civilization, with all our faults. Again, the dictatorship of a few. They are quite the contrast in the ME regarding Arabs and their death cult.
Last point: While sitting around the fire I asked them where their loyalties lie regarding Islam doctrine or freedom, which are non-compatible. In a nano-second they all said FREEDOM! We shook hands and had more drinks.
Good post, kudos.
In the early 90’s my husband and I rented a townhouse. When we went to interview with the owner and look at the house and put in an application, I wasn’t sure of the ethnicity of the guy. He didn’t speak with any sort of accent except for a bit of a Mur’land (Maryland) accent and was very American in dress and mannerisms but by his name (which was not Mohammad BTW and which I don’t remember for sure anymore but I think it was Mazyar) and by his appearance, I presumed he was of some sort of Middle Eastern persuasion and he was rather young, probably late 20’s early 30’s.
We decided we liked the townhouse and the neighborhood and the rent was reasonable so we called him a few days later to say we would like to rent it. And he was very pleased as he’d already checked our credit and references and approved us. He asked us if we wouldn’t mind meeting him at his parent’s house to sign the lease – it was closer to his work and closer to where we currently lived and he lived in a row home across town in Baltimore City, more convenient for everyone, so we said, sure.
The first thing that I noticed about his parent’s home was how immaculate and tastefully decorated it was. His mother was very warm and friendly and beautiful and neatly dressed in western clothes, makeup, jewelry, well coiffed hair, and she immediately offered to make us tea. His father was a little quieter, polite, not stand offish mind you, but a bit more reserved. We sat in the living room for a while drinking tea waiting for Mazyar to get the lease documents and the next thing I noticed was the pictures on the living room wall. Among the usual family portraits was a rather large portrait of the Shah of Iran. There was also a framed photograph of the father with Oliver North and another larger framed photo of the father with Ronald Regan. I really should have asked about the photos, wish I had but at the time I thought it might be rude so didn’t.
After we reviewed and signed the lease, the mother asked us if we liked or ever had “Persian” food and invited, implored us to stay and have dinner with them. We had other things to do that evening and I’m sort of sorry we didn’t because whatever she was cooking smelled delightful.
We learned that Mazyar worked a full time job (I think in IT) and had lived at home with his parents until very recently, saving his money and investing in rental properties, that he had recently bought his house for cash and was debt free – a very enterprising hard working young man.
And unlike the guy we had previously rented from, the guy who was by his own account, a Bible thumping “Born Again” who put the house we were renting on the market to sell without telling us (in violation of our lease and we first found out about it when his real estate agent came knocking at our door one evening to take measurements and put up the for sale sign); he was a good landlord. The few times we had maintenance issues, unlike our previous landlord who we could never get a hold of and wouldn’t return phone calls, he came right away; when the washer broke down he replaced it with a brand new one the next day and one time when we made a small repair ourselves over a weekend when he was out of town, he told us to deduct it off that months’ rent and just enclose the receipt for the materials plus deduct another $50 or whatever amount we thought was fair for our time and trouble.
We lived there for 3 ½ years when we found a house we really wanted to buy. We called Mazyar about terminating the lease early and told him that settlement could be as soon as 30 days, much less than in the lease agreement early termination notice period. He told us not to worry and that while he was sorry to lose us as tenants, he would let us out of our lease early without having to pay 2 more months rent.
Shortly after we moved into the house we bought, we got a card from Mazyar with a hand written letter congratulating us on our new home and thanking us for having been such good tenants, thanking us for leaving the house in such good condition and for cleaning it when we moved out. Enclosed in the card was a check for our security deposit (which we didn’t expect to get back since we broke the lease early) and a $50 Home Depot gift card.
FWIW, on 9-11 I was working in the accounting department of a pharmaceutical and was working with and training and mentoring a very young woman, a recent college grad whose family originally came from Iran. As we in our department were all huddled together watching the news of the Towers’ falling on a live stream on our manager’s computer, she came up to me with tears in her eyes and streaming down her face, saying, “Why? Why? Why would “those people” do that to “us”. All I could do was hug her and then I told her to go home and be with her family.