Red, Resistance, and The Smell of Roses
Re-examining Shariati's Red Shiism - Black Shiism in 2025
In the split shadow of Karbala, two figures walk divergent paths: one wrapped in silence, the other marching toward sovereignty. Between them lies the blood of martyrs and the dust of centuries. Somewhere in that dust, Ali Shariati is still whispering.
A revolutionary in the truest sense, Shariati believed that religion was not simply a personal refuge but a force meant to awaken the soul of the ummah, a weapon against injustice, and an instrument of awakening spiritually and socially. In his seminal essay Red Shi'ism and Black Shi'ism, the Iranian scholar laid out a framework that continues to haunt and guide us today: Black Shi'ism — the ritualistic, power-serving distortion of the faith — and Red Shi'ism — the living embodiment of justice, uprising, and moral resistance exemplified by Imam Hussein ع. As he ends the essay, he offers a simple clarifying description: Red Shi'ism as the religion of martyrdom, vs Black Shi'ism as the religion of mourning. Where Black Shi'ism merely mourns, Red Shi'ism moves. Where Black Shi'ism preserves hierarchy, Red Shi'ism dismantles it.
As a student of Shariati and a witness to the unique time we find ourselves in, I write this reflection after years of faithful practice that has consistently been accompanied by what I believe is an echo and continuation of his questions. Now more than ever, I find they haunt us — and demand answers.
Which Shi'ism do we live? Which are we serving?
The Enduring Framework
Though Shariati wrote in a specific moment, the power of his dichotomy endures. Red and Black are not simply institutions or ideologies; they are tendencies, mentalities, directions of the soul and sweat.
While the binary risks flattening the full complexity of Shi‘i history and theology, it remains an essential framework for distinguishing between faith that resists and faith that resigns. His binary is a moral compass, not a perfect map. It draws clear lines between complicity and courage, between mourning and movement.
Shariati tells us that Red Shi'ism began with action—with a definitive 'No'—writing in the introduction of his essay:
"Shi'ism is the Islam which differentiates itself and selects its direction in the history of Islam with the 'No' of the great Ali, the heir of Mohammad and the manifestation of the Islam of Justice and Truth."
“Shi'ism, which begins with a 'no,' a 'no' which opposes the path chosen by history, rebels against history.”
This No in action, not just in speech, reverberated through history, making Shi’ism “a deep-rooted and revolutionary, socio-political movement of the masses,” leading “the deprived and oppressed masses in their movements for freedom and for the seeking of justice."
He goes on to explain further:
“It [Shi’ism] is considered to be the rallying point for the demands, pains and rebellions of the intellectuals seeking to gain their rights and the masses in search of justice.”
He narrates a story relaying the history of this in practice. In 13th-century Iran, when the Mongol boot crushed Muslim necks and pseudo-clergy blessed the oppression, a simple preacher named Sheikh Khalifah chose the path of Ali.
Shariati recounts how "a religious preacher sets out in search of the truth" after witnessing the collaboration between corrupt religious authorities and Mongol oppressors. When said preacher found that piety had become "a means of escape from reality and responsibilities, turning away from the fate of the masses, and ignoring cruelty and tyranny," he made a different choice. "Disgusted with all these robes of piety, and satisfied that these religious teachings are all the weavers of the clothes of piety to be worn on a body of oppression," Sheikh Khalifah "chose the Islam of Ali, the school of protest and martyrdom."
This was Red Shi'ism in action: faith that could not remain silent.
Red Shi'ism Today
Red Shi'ism is not an ideal on the horizon, but a present reality the world has continuously borne witness to (whether it acknowledges it or not). Against an apathetic, motionless world, Red Shi'ism remains aligned with the prophetic mission in a way few others could dare say they do: to stand with the oppressed, to enjoin good and forbid evil.
Sit in a Muharram majlis or walk the courtyards of a shrine during ziyara, and you’ll see it — a keffiyeh draped over a pilgrim, a cleric’s shoulders, the name of Hussein carried not only in laments, but in lived solidarity. These signs, quietly powerful, speak to a recognition that the struggle for Gaza is bound to the legacy of Karbala. The faithful who wear them have grasped what Shariati knew: Hussein's sacrifice was not just about the 7th century, but about every century, every occupation, every moment when the oppressed must choose between silence and resistance.
It lives in the hands of ordinary people: in organizers who invoke Karbala as they march against occupation, in the work of groups like Who is Hussain, feeding tens of thousands a year, organizing blood drives, and saving lives. Their work doesn't just commemorate Ashura; it embodies compassion, turning grief into giving. It honors the idea that Hussein is not just a martyr, but a method.
Consider the Zaydi Shia of Yemen, who have stood against a global aggression campaign backed by superpowers, enduring famine and bombardment while flying Palestinian flags alongside their own. When their hungry, neglected voices still find the strength to defend Palestine from Sana'a, they embody Shariati's vision: Karbala as method, not memory.
Iranian Shi'ism, at its best, embodies this revolutionary impulse. It treats Karbala not as commemoration, but as constitution. This is Red Shi'ism politically.
In an age rife with injustice, we are continuously presented with the chance to uphold the legacy of Imam Hussein’s ع sacrifice, Imam Ali’s ع unwavering justice, and, above all, the mercy and truth of RasulAllah ﷺ. In a compilation of his lectures, titled ‘Martyrdom: Arise and Bear Witness’, Shariati eloquently conveys the integral aspect of these elements as a part of faith:
“If you do not bear witness to the battle between truth and falsity during your age, it makes no difference what you are doing. Whether you are at prayer or you are drinking, it is the same thing.”
To fully embody Red Shi'ism is to follow the call of Hussein wherever it leads. That call can and must animate the small and the grand: from grassroots activism to media, from mosque committees to political alliances. It must reawaken within our youth. It must echo in the tongues of men and women alike, who have always been bearers of resistance, from Fatima Zahra (SA) at Fadak to Sayyeda Zaynab (SA) in Sham, who in Karbala “left behind a red garden of martyrdom, and (from whom) the perfume of red flowers spreads.”
They exemplified what it means to be the best of believers; reminding us that we must, as our principles instruct us, honor this hadith from the blessed Prophet ﷺ:
We can do so by following through on Shariati’s words: “Seek the leadership of Ali and flee from the leadership of cruelty…choose justice, and overthrow the system of paradox and discrimination in ownership."
The Contemporary Challenge: Black Shi'ism in Our Communities
Black Shi'ism breathes in our communities, in our cultural practices, in the quiet compromises we make when we fear controversy more than complicity. It is a cultural force, a mindset that shows up in ritualistic practice divorced from meaning, sermons that mourn without mobilizing, in a passive grief that forgets Zaynab's defiance in Yazid's court. Shariati echoes the woe of this sentiment when he writes, “Instead, we announce to the people that Husayn needs tears and weeping and has no other message. He has died and requires only lamentation and is not a martyr who bore witness.”
When we avoid politics in the name of respectability, weeping for Karbala and repeating Labayk Ya Hussein, and then we weep for Gaza but don’t march, boycott, or abandon the bloody footprints of the tyrants, which faith are we following?
Walk into any majlis during Muharram and you’ll witness the beauty of a faith in full expression; poetry echoing through halls, love for the Ahlul Bayt worn openly, generously. But step outside those sacred walls, and the contrast can be jarring: the warmth and generosity shared inside is so far from what sits just beyond: the hungry and unhoused, those who (depending on where you are) might, and ought to, look to us for sanctity. But do we even realize that we’re meant to offer it?
We build beautiful mosques, but neglect the struggle to build food banks. We fly scholars across oceans to speak on Husseini values, but remain silent in the face of capitalism’s cruelty, racial injustice, and gendered oppression. Are those not tyrannies worth dismantling too?
This is not to ignore, discredit, or diminish the extraordinary work already being done by countless individuals and institutions, work that is both beautiful and essential. But we must expand on their example and do far more, on a far greater scale, until we are known for nothing else. The truth is, the same voices that eulogize the justice of the Ahlul Bayt often fall silent when contemporary injustice calls.
We could, and we must, be at the forefront of every justice movement, not just those that advocate for us. That is what it means to stand against Yazid, to honor the legacies of the Ahlul Bayt, and to embody the Quranic message of 4:135:
This selective spirituality — engaging with the metaphysics of oppression while avoiding its material reality — is precisely what Shariati identified as Black Shi'ism. It mourns historical injustice while accommodating contemporary tyranny. It speaks of awaiting the Mahdi while refusing to do the work that would prepare his path.
Our tradition is clear: knowledge must lead to action. Certainly in this time, nobody can say they are unaware of the tragedies occurring across the world. Shariati eloquently captures the tragedy of knowing and not acting:
“What heartlessness and selfishness that a man should be surrounded by the screams of prisoners, the shouts of executioners, the poverty of the hungry, the whips of the cruel over the bodies of the helpless, and, instead of volunteering to defend them, should simply seek his own redemption and try to gain paradise for himself!”
When we center ritual but silence revolution, this is the institutionalization of Black Shi'ism: structures that serve ‘stability’ rather than justice, betraying the sacrifices made by those we eulogize and revere. Some may argue that silence is wisdom, that in volatile times, restraint is a form of protection, and of course, in many cases, it undoubtedly is. I speak to specific circumstances here. If the silence becomes perpetual, if the grief never becomes grit, then are we protecting Islam, or avoiding its call?
Islam was never meant to be neutral. The faith that rose from the ashes of Karbala has always demanded more than remembrance; it demands resistance. As Shariati himself taught, the message of Islam, and Shi'ism in particular, is not to escape from history but to shape it. The duty of the believer is not neutrality; it is resistance.
The Revolutionary Imperative: Choosing Red
Now more than ever, in an age where justice is under siege, our tradition stands as one of its last steadfast guardians. It has gone beyond being an option or suggestion; it is the imperative. Fully, courageously, and with eyes wide open, we must consciously, deliberately, and unapologetically choose Red. Because it is not just a memory, it is a mandate.
Shariati taught us that Red and Black Shi'ism are not just institutional tendencies but personal orientations, internal choices we make daily. Red Shi'ism is thus not automatic; on the contrary, it must be chosen, cultivated, and struggled for. When we speak of Karbala as history, not as a method, we leave behind the legacy of Zaynab (SA), who did not just grieve, but testified, unafraid, unwavering.
He understood that true Shi'ism produces "the revolutionary cries of Ashura and the aggressive mobilization of the masses against existing conditions." He goes on:
“Red Shi'ism… has continued as the flame of the spirit of revolution, freedom-seeking, justice, leaning towards the people and fighting relentlessly against oppression, ignorance and poverty.”
To choose Red Shi'ism today means several concrete commitments:
In our communities: Transform majalis — end every gathering not with tea and conversation, but with concrete action. Make the connection between Zaynab's defiance in Yazid's court and our silence in the face of contemporary injustice impossible to ignore.
In our rituals: Channel the passion of Ashura into service. Let the oppressed be unmistaken in knowing that it is the lovers of the Ahlul Bayt who offer them relief.
In our personal practice: Live the Husseini choice daily. When faced with injustice, ask: would silence be what Hussein chose? When comfortable with privilege, remember: Karbala was about refusing to benefit from unjust systems.
In the words of Sayeda Zaynab (as) from her speech to Yazid: “A liberated person also has a responsibility towards human liberty. Witness your time. Witness the conflict between the truth and falsehood of your age.”
In our politics: Make the connection between Islamic values and contemporary struggles explicit and unavoidable. Stand with the oppressed even when it costs you social acceptance or professional advancement.
These values must be embodied wherever we are, in whatever circumstances we face. And if we say we love Hussein, then we must ask: what does it mean to love someone who refused to stay silent? What does it mean to commemorate Karbala while remaining indifferent to the oppression around us? What does it mean to carry Zaynab's name, but none of her defiance?
Hussein's Eternal Call
We must hear Hussein's voice as Shariati understood it, not just as historical memory, but as a living presence. This passionate plea attributed to one of Shariati’s lectures captures this well:
"Oh, Hussein ….You are the lamp that shows the way, the ship of salvation. The blood of yours which was spilt is ever rising where there is deceit. It flows in the stream of time and passes over all generations. It is the blood that saturates any fruitful land, causes the worthy seeds to open underneath the earth & brings a dry plant into being. You, the great teacher of martyrdom… Render a bit of the fire of that firing desert to our cold and frozen winter! You have selected red death to release your lovers from the black death. Still with every drop of your blood, you give life to a nation, make the heart of history beat, give heat to the depressed crops of each age, give the excitement of life as well as hope & love."
This reveals why Shariati saw Hussein not merely as a historical figure to be mourned, but as an eternal principle to be lived. The "red death" Hussein chose was meant to save us from "black death" — the spiritual death of accommodation with injustice. His blood continues to flow "in the stream of time," calling each generation to choose between the path of resistance and the path of resignation.
The Choice Before Us
The message of Karbala was not only a rebellion against tyranny, but a rebellion against moral cowardice. It was a summons to stand with the oppressed, even if it means standing alone.
The Prophet ﷺ fought, struggled, and persevered against the Quraysh. Imam Ali ع, betrayed and abandoned, still chose truth. Imam Hussein ع gave his final breath not for victory in numbers, but for victory in principle. And yet, each of them triumphed. In their defiance, we see what becomes possible when faith refuses to compromise with power. A single soul, anchored in truth, can become a revolution. The transformation begins not with armies or institutions, but with individuals who choose Red over Black; movement over mourning, resistance over resignation.
Are we willing to embody their faith in action, not just praise it in poetry? And if our faith today does not move us toward that courage, then we must ask: which Shi'ism are we practicing? The one that weeps for historical martyrs while ignoring contemporary ones? Or do we choose the Shi'ism that sees Karbala not as a past event but as a present method — the one that transforms every majlis into a mobilization, every ritual into resistance?
I find it necessary to reiterate here, in case it was not made clear, especially for those unfamiliar, that ‘Red’ Shi’ism is just pure Shi'ism, its original and most authentic expression. It is by that definition the complete and unadulterated following of Islam, through its obedience to the call of the Prophet ﷺ, when he remarked in Hadith Thaqlayn to follow the Quran and his holy progeny after him, so that we may never stray. In no way have I meant throughout this essay to discredit the countless adherents of this beautiful truth; it is purely out of my love and commitment to it that I find Dr. Shariati’s words so powerful and worthy of examination. We have, undoubtedly, created a culture out of certain elements of our faith. That is no crime—I am not calling for us to abandon the traditions born from and sustained by love. I simply urge: don’t treat culture with the sanctity of creed; remember the root and neglect not the revolutionary spirit that birthed these practices. That is what it means to be Husseini!
Shi’ism, at its core, has always been a spiritual and moral insurgency, a call to justice, a refusal to kneel. It belongs to those who dare to walk the path lit by the blood of the martyrs, carried on the tongue of Zaynab. So let our sorrow turn to struggle, and one that does not discriminate, for the message Imam Hussein ع gave his life for was universal. The mercy the Prophet ﷺ came with was for all. Imam Ali ع reminds us beautifully:
Red Shi'ism is not a distant ideal; it lives as a liberatory force wherever believers refuse to separate spiritual practice from social justice, wherever the oppressed remember Hussein not just as a martyr but as a method, and wherever the heirs of Karbala choose courage over comfort. Shariati ever so beautifully remarks that when Imam Hussain, alone on the battlefield on Ashura, asked, ‘Is there anyone there to help me?’ He, of course, knew there was not. He was not asking those present that day. He was speaking into the future, asking us.
Do we hear his question?
Are we here, today, ready to help him, and stand for justice and truth?
Honor that call, honor Islam, honor the bright and brilliant Red. Be at the forefront of every justice movement. Wear the cloak of true faith, not as a mere adornment, but until it becomes indistinguishable from you. Liberate yourself first from the limits of the black: this is how we can build a world so sweet and just and true, it lingers forevermore with the scent not of rue, but of roses.
The dust of Karbala has not settled. Until the end of time, it shall remain the undying revolution; the one Hussein began, continuing in every choice we make between silence and speech, between mourning and movement, between Black and Red.
Shariati's whisper will not die until we answer his question — not with words, but with our lives.
May we be inspired to live like Muhammad, fight like Ali, die like Hussain, and rise like Zaynab.
Further Reading:
Red Shiism Black Shiism (Full original essay)
Martyrdom: Arise and Bear Witness (Compilation of Dr. Shariati’s lectures)
If Kierkegaard Knew Karbala (A supplementary essay of mine)
Harvard University’s Project on Shiism and Global Affairs (For anyone interested: they offer interesting, free, introductory workshops & lectures on Shiism, Ashura, +)
Charities serving in the name of the Ahlul Bayt:
What a great framework and application. Brilliantly done!
Once again, an exceptional essay Zahra! I think Dr. Shariati would've really appreciated this.