A SACRED, SULLIED SPACE
One of Iran and Iraq's religious minority groups, which has survived for centuries, is now rapidly disappearing. Mandaeism, the last surviving Gnostic religion, is an ancient faith rooted in the teachings of John the Baptist. Originating in Mesopotamia, water is everything to the Sabian Mandaeans, who are baptized in it, get married in it and receive their last rites by the river's edge.
During their celebrations, the community believes that each individual should be baptized as many times as possible. But river pollution in recent years has been making it harder for the community to practice their rituals. Mandaeans fear extinction unless their traditions and people are protected.
Their numbers in Iran are estimated to be 5,000 and 10,000, though no census count exists. Not officially recognized by Iran’s constitution, they lack opportunities afforded by the Shia Muslim majority. The Mandaeans suffer varying degrees of discrimination in education and employment.
Throughout a journey into the Mandaeans' world and everyday lives and practices, this story explores the untold dimensions of being an ethnoreligious minority in Ahvaz, in southwestern Iran.
The sacred yet sullied river blurs the boundaries of the long-existing dichotomy of the sacredness of religiosity and profanity of contamination, as the Mandaeans are occasionally and arbitrarily labelled as Najis, ritually unclean, by the Muslim community of Ahvaz. This twofold tension between the Mandaeans' imagery of the purity of the Karun River and the Muslim community's image of Mandaeans as ritually unclean, as well as the reality of the pollution of the Karun river, shapes the story.
The story shows the challenges faced by the Mandaeans as they navigate social stigmas, environmental degradation, and their commitment to maintaining a connection to living water. The narrative unfolds as the Karun River becomes a metaphor for the complex interplay of culture, religion, pollution, and the photographer's role as a storyteller.