“Diaspora”: A Narrative of Love for Iran in Distant Lands / Sports Documentation, Beyond Recounting Memories

“Diaspora”: A Narrative of Love for Iran in Distant Lands / Sports Documentation, Beyond Recounting Memories

IBNA Provincial Services: Javvad Rostamzadeh, a Mashhadi sports writer and journalist, speaks in his latest work about an experience that takes football beyond the boundaries of the playing field; into the realm of identity, migration, and collective memory. After two books, “You Are Khodadad Azizi” and “Secrets of Dublin,” he has now, with a new work titled “Diaspora,” delved into a new chapter of Iran’s hidden football history; a narrative of players who have lived between two cultures and, through an emotional and sometimes difficult choice, decided to play for Iran.

Javvad Rostamzadeh, who was also nominated for the Jalal Literary Award for his book “You Are Khodadad Azizi,” talks about the formation of the book’s idea, the research stages, and interviews with figures such as Ashkan Dejagah, Fereydoon Zandi, Reza Ghoochannejhad, Saman Ghoddos, and Steven Beitashour in his new book; footballers whom he calls “children of the diaspora.” For him, “Diaspora” is not merely a geographical term, but an emotional and cultural experience of returning to roots and homeland from within migration.

In this continuation of the interview, he speaks about the necessity of documenting sports narratives as part of Iran’s cultural memory; an effort to re-read football not just as a game, but as a ritual of Iranian society and identity.

After “You Are Khodadad Azizi” and “Secrets of Dublin,” you went for “Diaspora”! Where did the main idea for the book “Diaspora” come from?

The idea for “Diaspora” formed when I was researching sports migration and the forgotten narratives of players who appear on the field with two or more identities. For instance, when I looked into the lives of Ashkan Dejagah or Fereydoon Zandi, I saw a complete world of identity, cultural, political, and even psychological issues behind the simple decision to “play for the national team.” From that point on, I realized that we had not yet seriously addressed this aspect of sports: the lives of those who are children of migration but have played in Iran’s jersey. In fact, while completing my trilogy on the national team, I realized how little attention we had paid to these players who made difficult choices, and how little we quoted or wrote about them and their important decisions.

Why Diaspora?

Initially, the book’s name was “Mixed-Race.” But because several national team players had Iranian parents and the term “mixed-race” couldn’t be used for them, we arrived at the term “Diaspora.” The word “Diaspora” is used to describe groups that have remained far from their homeland but still maintain cultural, emotional, and even political ties to it.

In this book, I have explored “sports diaspora”; meaning athletes who were born or grew up in Europe or North America, but have roots in Iran, and at critical junctures, such as playing for the national team, reconnect with their homeland. For me, diaspora is not just a geographical term, but an emotional and identity experience that lives in the bodies and minds of these athletes.

Which figures are introduced in this book?

We looked into figures such as Fereydoon Zandi, Ashkan Dejagah, Reza Ghoochannejhad, Saman Ghoddos, and Steven Beitashour. Each of them is a symbol of the connection between two cultures; they have stories full of contradictions, conflicts, but also hope. These individuals are not just athletes; they carry a migrant worldview. With these stars, we laughed, cried, ascended, and sometimes failed. They did not grow up with us, but they allied with Iran alongside us, fought, won, and lost.

What was your goal in addressing this topic, and who are your target audience?

My goal was to document and narrate a part of contemporary Iranian sports history that has always remained marginalized. I wanted to reconstruct narratives that find meaning not only on the football field but also within the context of society, media, family, and even political discourse. The primary audience for this book includes serious sports enthusiasts and readers interested in topics of identity, migration, and sociology. Even students and researchers in social sciences, cultural studies, and media can use it.

Can it be said that “Diaspora” is a form of collective biographical writing?

It’s not solely a biography because, unlike conventional biographies that focus on a single individual, in “Diaspora,” we encounter a collection of narratives from the lives of athletes, each of whom, in a way, forms part of a larger puzzle; a puzzle whose main theme is “return.” For me, this wasn’t just about a footballer returning from Europe or America to the national team; it was about returning to roots, to the mother tongue, to a land they might have only known from afar.

From the heart of these narratives, layers of identity, conflict, attachment, and sometimes doubt emerge. Through these lives, I also wanted to take a sociological look at this particular phenomenon: why does a player born in Germany or Sweden decide to wear Iran’s jersey? How does the host society view him? How does the ancestral society welcome him? And what feelings and experiences does the individual himself have amidst these two spaces? All of this was more important to me than the football match itself. Football was merely a context for understanding a reverse migration; an emotional dialogue between the homeland and its distant children.

It seems the book’s prose is somewhat different from the previous two books, more, so to speak, “settled.” Do you agree?

Yes, I accept that. In this book, I tried to distance myself a bit from the excitement and rhythmic moments that were more prominent in the previous two books and move towards a more analytical and precise narrative. The language of the book remains simple and journalistic, but I tried to incorporate deeper layers into the text. Perhaps this also relates to my mental maturity; by moving away from newspaper text, I aimed for a more mature prose that is both documentary and engaging for today’s reader.

You didn’t use first-person narration in this book? Why not?

No, in “Diaspora,” I decided to play more the role of observer and reconstructor rather than the main character. Because I believed that the narrative of these individuals was complex, multifaceted, and rich enough to speak for itself without my intervention. In the first book, first-person narration helped create more intimacy with the characters, but here I needed distance and analysis to ensure the text was fair and to give the reader space to breathe.

In your dedications, you have always openly expressed your love for Iran, but why is your book’s name not derived from Iranian names?

Because “Diaspora” itself is a global term, but it reflects a completely Iranian experience. This contradiction and coexistence were attractive to me. I wanted the title itself to tell the reader that we are dealing with a complex global reality that has Iranian roots. Furthermore, the generations I speak about in this book have themselves navigated between the duality of “being Iranian” and “living globally.” The word “Diaspora” was the most accurate label I could choose for these narratives. If you notice, the subtitle of the book is “Songs of the Ancestral Land in World Cups.”

Overall, your naming conventions have always been different, and you even emphasized specific naming for chapters. Does this stem from your journalistic spirit?

Absolutely. I have worked for years in sports journalism and always believed that a good title is half the appeal of a report or note. That’s why choosing the name of the book or chapters is not just an administrative task for me; it’s part of the creative process. I try to ensure each title carries a specific conceptual and emotional weight. Something that, like a mental subtitle, carries the reader from one page to the next.

What is the subject of the next book?

Honestly, after “Diaspora,” I’m thinking about the subject of refugee athletes and examining the roots of athletes’ asylum and their playing under the flags of other countries from social, political, and even economic perspectives. Currently, I am in the initial stages of research and interviews, and I also have another subject on the behind-the-scenes aspects of the national team in the Qatar World Cup on my agenda.

What is the necessity of addressing sports documentation in book format in Iran?

Sports documentation is something beyond recounting memories; it is the recording of history. Unfortunately, in Iran, the written memory of sports is weak and fragmented. Many important narratives remain only in oral memory and will be forgotten if not documented. We need future generations to know Iranian sports not only from the perspective of statistics and championships but also from human, social, and cultural viewpoints. A book is one of the most credible and lasting formats for this work.

In your last three books, you have always used prominent coaching figures for the introduction or opening remarks; Waldyr Vieira in “You Are Khodadad Azizi,” Branko Ivanković in “Secrets of Dublin,” and now Carlos Queiroz in “Diaspora.” What is the reason for these choices and collaborations?

No, none of these choices were accidental. For me, writing an introduction or opening remarks for a book is not just a “literary frame,” but part of giving credibility to the narrative. When someone like Carlos Queiroz speaks about diaspora players, the audience realizes that we have not approached the topic with a superficial view; rather, we have delved into the depth of the matter from the perspective of a global football expert. These choices are the result of months of communication, consultation, and sometimes patience to gain their trust. I am glad that all three coaches responded positively to my projects with a serious approach.

In your research process, you even conduct interviews with the translators and assistants of these coaches, such as Reza Chalangar and Arian Ghasemi. Why do you delve so deeply into the subjects?

Because documentation means recording the narrative from the closest possible distance. I believe that oral history is valuable when it also benefits from the periphery. Translators, assistants, and support staff of the teams are those who have witnessed important realities in unofficial moments. Sometimes a single sentence from the head coach’s translator has resolved a mental knot I had for months. Instead of writing from outside the story, I like to go into the middle of the field, next to the bench, in the stadium tunnel. This method helps document the narratives and makes the final text both more tangible and more trustworthy for the audience.

Who are the main audience for this book?

Everyone interested in the topics of identity, migration, and sports. From social science researchers to teenagers who have grown up with an Iranian identity in another country. Even sports officials can use this book to better understand the neglected potentials of migrants.

According to IBNA, the book “Diaspora: Songs of the Ancestral Land in World Cups,” written by Javvad Rostamzadeh with an introduction by Carlos Queiroz, page layout and cover design by Amirabbas Safari, has been published by Golgasht Publications.