From Modernisation to “Bringing Iran Back to the Stone Age”
In 1971, the Shah of Iran hosted one of the most lavish celebrations in modern history at the archaeological site of Persepolis. Armies of men and women, dressed in the style of the Achaemenid Empire founded by Cyrus the Great in 550 BC, staged a spectacle intended to link Iran’s present to its imperial past. In his speech, the Shah delivered a line that would linger in the Iranian collective imagination for decades: “Sleep in peace Cyrus; we are awake”.
On top of the disproportionate and socially disconnected extravagance of the festivities, a broader project of imperial glorification followed. In 1976, the Shah changed the origin of the Iranian calendar from the Islamic beginning of time, the Prophet Mohammad’s migration from Mecca to Medina, to the coronation of Cyrus the Great in 559 BCE. With a simple recalibration of time, Iran leapt to the year 2535. Buoyed by rising oil revenues and confident in unwavering US support, the Shah, in a 1975 interview with Mike Wallace, urged the “blue-eyed people” to awaken and restructure their societies- presumably by following his self-styled model of autocratic modernisation in remaking Iran.
This posture was, in many ways, a provocation directed at the Western narrative of modernisation. In his 1949 inaugural address, President Truman outlined a vision of development grounded in “modern scientific and technical knowledge.” In the decades following the Second World War, proponents of modernisation theory conceptualised development as a universal and linear trajectory towards prosperity: achievable through capitalism, liberal democracy, and the adoption of Western values and technologies. Although the theory was contested even at its height, its core assumptions, particularly the emphasis on economic growth and linear progress, continue to shape the agendas of many international development organisations. As articulated by Rostow, one of its central theorists, the United States represented the apex of this trajectory, while other nations were expected to “take off” and eventually reach the “age of high mass consumption.” Development, in this framework, was fundamentally a process of catching up.
In its drive towards becoming an advanced society during the 1970s, Iran became the largest purchaser of United States military equipment. Following a 1972 visit to Tehran by President Nixon and Henry Kissinger, a secret agreement granted Iran the right to acquire virtually any weapons it desired. Iranian spending on US arms rose dramatically from $500 million in 1972 to $2.2 billion in 1973, and to an astonishing $4.3 billion in 1974. Equipped with cutting-edge military technology, the Shah’s heavily securitised regime appeared formidable, even invulnerable.
At a state dinner in Tehran in 1977, President Carter famously described Iran as “an island of stability in one of the more troubled areas of the world.” In less frequently cited remarks, he also praised Iran’s ancient heritage after observing a monument commemorating the 2,500th anniversary of the Persian Empire: “This was a sobering thought to me. We have been very proud in our Nation to celebrate our 200th birthday, a couple of years ago. But it illustrates the deep and penetrating consciousness that comes from an ancient heritage and a culture that preceded any that we’ve ever known in our own lives.” Carter went on to celebrate shared industrial growth, scientific achievements, research and development knowledge between the United States and Iran. Iran was thus positioned not only as modern, but as uniquely distinguished by a civilisational depth that seemed to propel it ahead of its peers- despite growing internal repression and inequality.
Yet within two years, this “island of stability” collapsed. The revolution of 1979 radically altered Iran’s political trajectory. Time magazine captured the shift with a stark headline: “IRAN: Forced March Backward.” Almost overnight, Iran was recast: from a model of modernisation to a symbol of regression.
The Shah, however, could not take his newly acquired arsenal with him as he fled the country. Many scientific and technological institutions continued to function. During the eight-year war imposed on Iran by Saddam Hussein, international support flowed overwhelmingly to Iraq. Beginning in 1983, economic aid to Iraq grew steadily, eventually exceeding a billion dollars by the war’s end. Germany, the Soviet Union, France, and China supplied both conventional and unconventional weapons; German firms, in particular, provided materials essential for chemical weapons production. A country once celebrated as a beacon of modernity was now under sustained assault. In this context—isolated, embattled, and shaped by an anti-imperialist outlook—the foundations of Iran’s deterrent strategies were laid, including its nuclear ambitions, asymmetric warfare doctrines, and investment in domestic military technologies. The heavy emphasis on military development in subsequent decades cannot be understood without reference to this formative period.
This sense of grievance was not limited to the revolutionaries. Despite the appearance of technological cooperation, the United States refused to grant the Shah access to a full nuclear fuel cycle for domestic uranium enrichment. Frustrated, he remarked to a French journalist in 1976: “Why is it normal for you the Germans and the British to have atomic or hydrogen bombs while it is not for Iran although…it is not automatically protected by any other country…why for Iran [is] a simple matter of self-defense…a problem?” If even the Shah, with his extensive military acquisitions, perceived the global order as inequitable, the post-revolutionary leadership, facing hostility on multiple fronts, found little incentive to abandon such ambitions.
At the same time, the muted response of the international community to human rights violations during the war years emboldened the new regime domestically. In 1988, Iranian authorities, acting on the orders of Ayatollah Khomeini, executed between 2,800 and 5,000 political prisoners. Iranian citizens thus found themselves doubly dehumanised by both external actors and their own government.
This double dehumanisation persists. When Donald Trump threatens to “bring Iran back to the Stone Age, where they belong,” the statement is not merely rhetorical provocation. It draws upon longstanding assumptions embedded in linear models of development; assumptions that position countries like Iran as belonging to a pre-modern, “backward” temporal space. To “put them in their place” is therefore to invoke a deeper historical logic that denies the legitimacy of alternative pathways to progress. It is no coincidence that supporters of Reza Pahlavi, often aligned with Trump and Netanyahu’s positions, have circulated slogans such as “we will build better ones” on social media following attacks on Iranian infrastructure. In this view, institutions associated with the Islamic Republic are seen as disposable—structures to be demolished and rebuilt according to an externally validated model of modernity.
Recent attacks on sites such as the Pasteur Institute and pharmaceutical facilities—centres of advanced medical research operating under severe sanctions—underscore this dynamic. Iran’s capacity for scientific and technological development is repeatedly undermined, reinforcing the notion that it cannot be “developed” on its own terms. This recalls earlier critiques by dependency theorists, who argued that the global economic system structurally inhibits growth in peripheral countries by privileging dominant powers. Since 2007, Israel has systematically assassinated Iranian nuclear scientists, ostensibly to impede nuclear development. Increasingly, the logic of epistemicide extends beyond the nuclear domain; since the onset of recent hostilities, 21 Iranian universities have been targeted.
Much attention has been given to the role of artificial intelligence and advanced targeting technologies in the war on Iran. Yet these developments must be situated within longer histories of technological power and temporal hierarchies. In the confrontation between an authoritarian state and coercive international forces, it is ordinary Iranians who bear the cost. Research centres, infrastructure, and cultural institutions, built by one of the most highly educated populations in the Middle East, are placed at risk. For people who have fought for their dignity for years, movements such as “Woman, Life, Freedom” was a demonstration of the enduring capacity of collective action and civil disobedience to challenge entrenched systems of power- not bombs. Collective memory, culture, and technological knowledge cannot be reset or erased by decree or by force. Plundered, attacked, and repeatedly devastated throughout their long history, the Iranian people know that progress does not unfold according to imposed timelines.