Khosrow Sadeghi Boroujeni’s article is a powerful critique of the revisionist narratives that romanticize the pre-revolutionary era in Iran. He confronts the widespread tendency to reduce historical complexities into oversimplified, misleading accounts that serve political agendas. By grounding his argument in historical data and scholarly references, he challenges both monarchist nostalgia and the opportunistic rhetoric of reformists within the Islamic regime.
Khosrow Sadeghi Boroujeni is a journalist, labor and social welfare researcher, and a sociology graduate. In recent years, he has conducted research on neoliberalism and Iran’s political economy, publishing numerous articles on the subject. Due to his criticism of Iran’s political and economic conditions, he has been imprisoned multiple times.
In recent years, both reformist and monarchist factions have made extensive efforts to condemn the 1979 Revolution, distorting the history of pre-1979 Iran and placing the blame for the suffering caused by the rise of the Islamists on the revolutionaries of 1979. This narrative ignores the Shah’s military support for Khomeini, the brutal repression, and the civil war waged against councils and the will of the people. Boroujeni’s article critically challenges these narratives.
One of the central themes of the article is the distortion of historical memory through modern media. Boroujeni highlights how the accessibility of social media has enabled a flood of misinformation, where selective memories and manipulated narratives drown out critical perspectives. This “democratization” of information, instead of fostering historical awareness, has been weaponized to erase context and present an idealized image of the Pahlavi regime. He critiques the way in which any criticism of the monarchy is now equated with support for the current regime, leaving little room for a serious discussion about the actual causes of the revolution.
Boroujeni is particularly effective in deconstructing the idea that the 1979 revolution was the result of a spoiled populace that “had it too good.” He presents an array of economic and social statistics demonstrating that the pre-revolutionary state was deeply unequal, with a large portion of the population suffering from poverty, illiteracy, and malnutrition. The contrast between the extravagant court life and the dire conditions of the working class and rural poor is laid out in stark terms. The author’s use of sources like Fred Halliday, Nikki Keddie, and Ervand Abrahamian further strengthens his argument, showing that Iran’s economic development under the Shah was not only uneven but actively dispossessing and marginalizing large sections of society.
A particularly striking section of the article concerns the role of rural migration and urban poverty in fueling the revolution. The forced displacement of landless peasants, driven by uneven modernization policies, led to the rapid expansion of slums around major cities. The people who found themselves at the bottom of this new social hierarchy turned to religious institutions as their only refuge. Boroujeni connects this phenomenon to the eventual Islamicization of the revolution, showing that the political forces of 1979 emerged not in a vacuum but from a long history of exclusion and dispossession.
At the heart of Boroujeni’s critique is a rejection of both monarchist and reformist narratives. He argues that those who advocate for a return to the Pahlavi era ignore the very conditions that led to its downfall. At the same time, he points out that reformists within the Islamic regime use this nostalgia to discourage radical change, presenting the status quo as the only alternative to chaos. By exposing these political manipulations, the article refuses to let history be rewritten in service of power.
The article also tackles another common misconception: that economic growth under the Shah would have eventually led to prosperity for all, had the revolution not interrupted it. Boroujeni refutes this by citing figures that illustrate the extreme concentration of wealth and the failure of state planning to address the needs of the majority. His reference to Asadollah Alam’s memoirs—where the Shah’s closest advisor documents the monarchy’s reckless spending and corruption—provides damning evidence against the myth of a benevolent and competent ruling class.



Boroujeni makes it clear that historical understanding cannot be reduced to a binary choice between the monarchy and the Islamic regime. The Iranian people, he argues, deserve a deeper, more critical engagement with their own past—one that acknowledges the failures of both systems rather than idealizing one against the other. He insists that the revolution must be analyzed as a complex social movement shaped by real grievances, rather than dismissed as a tragic mistake.
In the rest of the article, Khosrow Sadeghi Boroujeni shifts focus from historical distortions to a deeper analysis of Iran’s failed development strategies under the Pahlavi regime. He argues that while Iran had the potential to achieve sustainable and equitable progress, the authoritarian nature of the monarchy prevented any meaningful reform. By examining the recommendations of international economic advisors—such as the Harvard consultants brought in to modernize Iran’s administration—Boroujeni highlights how the Shah’s refusal to address systemic inefficiencies directly contributed to the conditions that led to the revolution.
One of the article’s most striking points is its emphasis on the structural dysfunction of the Pahlavi state. Despite massive oil revenues, Iran’s economic development was chaotic, serving the interests of the elite rather than the broader population. Boroujeni methodically dissects the monarchy’s misplaced priorities, showing how resources were squandered on vanity projects like the extravagant 2,500-year celebration of Persian monarchy while essential services remained inaccessible to much of the country. He argues that these failures were not accidental but rather a consequence of an authoritarian system that saw expertise as a threat and resisted any calls for transparency or accountability.
The discussion of the Harvard consultants adds another layer to Boroujeni’s critique. These Western advisors, brought in to assist with Iran’s economic planning, quickly realized that the country’s development was being hindered by a culture of bureaucratic incompetence, personal loyalty over professional merit, and resistance to systematic reform. Their recommendations—ranging from improving administrative efficiency to addressing growing economic inequalities—were largely ignored. Instead, the monarchy continued with a top-down approach that deepened social divides and fueled resentment among the lower classes. The Shah’s unwillingness to relinquish control or allow genuine economic participation reinforced the very conditions that made revolution inevitable.
Boroujeni also addresses a crucial misconception perpetuated by monarchist revisionism: the idea that Iran was “on the verge” of becoming a fully developed country before the revolution disrupted its progress. He challenges this claim with hard data, showing that key indicators of social well-being—such as literacy rates, infant mortality, and access to healthcare—were among the worst in the region. He dismantles the argument that economic growth alone justified the regime’s policies, arguing that development without social justice only intensified existing inequalities. His reference to John Foran’s research on malnutrition and healthcare further supports this point, illustrating that even at its economic peak, Iran was failing the majority of its citizens.
The article also raises an important question: why, despite these well-documented failures, do some people still long for the monarchy? Boroujeni argues that nostalgia for the pre-revolutionary era is largely shaped by the horrors of the post-revolutionary state. The Islamic regime’s brutal repression, economic mismanagement, and ideological control have created a sense of collective disillusionment, leading many to romanticize the past as a lost golden age. He warns, however, that this nostalgia is selective, driven by media campaigns that erase the suffering and inequality of the Pahlavi years. By appealing to “order” and “stability,” monarchists attempt to rewrite history in a way that justifies the return of a system that was fundamentally flawed.


Perhaps the most thought-provoking aspect of the article is its rejection of the false binary between monarchy and the Islamic regime. Boroujeni insists that the Iranian people deserve more than a choice between two forms of authoritarianism. He critiques the reformist discourse that frames political change as a risk too great to take, arguing that this mindset only serves to maintain the status quo. He emphasizes the need for a genuine, people-centered historical analysis—one that moves beyond nostalgia and defeatism to recognize both the failures of the past and the possibilities of the future.
In the final section, Boroujeni ties his arguments together by stressing the importance of historical awareness. He critiques the way contemporary Iranian discourse often reduces the revolution to a mistake, ignoring the structural issues that led to it. By highlighting the deep social and economic inequalities of the Pahlavi era, he reminds readers that revolutions do not emerge out of nowhere; they are the result of prolonged suffering and unmet demands. His argument is a call for critical engagement with history, not as a means of justifying the present but as a tool for imagining something better.
Overall, the second half of the article reinforces Boroujeni’s central argument: that the 1979 revolution was not a reckless act of self-destruction but a response to real and urgent injustices. His detailed use of historical data, combined with his sharp political critique, makes for a compelling rejection of revisionist narratives. By exposing the failures of both the monarchy and the Islamic regime, he refuses to let history be used as a tool of manipulation. Instead, he urges his readers to engage with the past honestly, recognizing both its struggles and its lessons.
Boroujeni’s article is an essential intervention in today’s debates about Iran’s history and future. At a time when nostalgia threatens to erase critical memory, his insistence on confronting uncomfortable truths is both necessary and refreshing. His work is a reminder that history is not just about remembering but about understanding—and that only through such understanding can meaningful change emerge.
What you think?