Thursday, December 5, 2024

Scythian (Iranic) Clothing vs. Turkic and Mongol Clothing

By Bobby Darvish, Iranian-American Lord (of Safavid Dynasty Lineage), Ex-Muslim, Former Vegan, Former Democrat, Former Socialist, Former CAIR-Columbus Executive Director, Former Muslim Forum of Utah President, Former Pagan, Christian Conservative LDS Priest

Growing up Iranian-American and being aware of my ancestral lineage that traces back to the Safavid Dynasty, I’ve always been fascinated by the cultural and historical tapestry that makes up my heritage. Perhaps because I have passed through many personal transformations—leaving Islam, then veganism, stepping away from my former socialist and Democrat affiliations, and ultimately embracing a Christian conservative LDS faith—I’ve developed an intense respect for the complex layers of identity that shape a person’s understanding of the world. My background also includes serving in leadership roles in various Muslim and interfaith organizations and maintaining membership in groups that once defined who I was, though I’ve since moved on from those old affiliations. Now, as I reflect on the ancient legacies of my ancestry, I’ve found myself drawn to the quiet narratives sewn into fabric and spun into thread: the differences in the traditional dress of the Scythians—an Iranic people—and their Turkic and Mongol neighbors.

My Iranian forebears, although centuries removed from the Scythians, still carry a certain historical and cultural resonance. The Scythians were ancient Iranic nomads who thrived across the Eurasian Steppe. What set them apart was not only their language and lineage but also their distinctive clothing. Scythian attire often consisted of fitted garments designed for horseback riding: trousers made from wool, leather, or felt; snug, long-sleeved tunics belted at the waist; and high, pointed caps adorned with intricate patterns. These choices reflected a need for mobility across the vast grasslands. The silhouette was lean and functional, with patterns that emphasized geometric motifs and animal figures—often mythical and symbolic of strength or spiritual belief.

In contrast, the steppe attire of Turkic and Mongol peoples—while sharing certain elemental similarities due to environmental and lifestyle parallels—took on different silhouettes and symbolisms. Mongol and many Turkic groups favored the “deel,” a long, robe-like garment that crossed over the chest and fastened at one side, often tied with a sash. This robe provided warmth during fierce winters on the steppe and allowed for layering, flexibility, and easy adaptation to changing weather. Caps, boots, and sometimes distinctive fur-trimmed garments were common, with less emphasis on tight-fitting pants and more on a singular flowing garment as a foundational piece.

The differences in patterns and decoration are striking as well. While Scythian patterns often incorporated animal art strongly tied to the ancient Iranic artistic tradition, Turkic and Mongol garments tended to feature more subtle embroidery and the strategic use of color contrasts, often reflecting tribal identities and social ranks. Over time, as Turkic and Mongol polities expanded, their attire absorbed influences from settled civilizations—Chinese silks, Persian brocades, and even Russian furs—giving their wardrobe a syncretic richness.

In essence, while both Iranic Scythian and Turkic-Mongol ensembles evolved around the necessities of nomadic life, they reveal distinct aesthetic priorities. The Scythians, an early branch of Iranic peoples, fashioned garments that balanced equestrian practicality with symbolic ornamentation rooted in an Iranic cultural sphere. Meanwhile, the Turkic and Mongol dress styles, though also born on horseback, leaned towards robes and coats that maintained warmth and layered adaptability, reflecting a different historical trajectory and a separate set of aesthetic principles.

For me, as someone who has lived through numerous personal and ideological transformations, examining these clothing traditions feels like an affirmation of the complex fabric of identity. Each stitch, whether Iranic or Turkic or Mongol, recounts a story of adaptation, survival, faith, and artistry. It is a quiet reminder that what we wear can reflect who we are, who we once were, and who we might become.


Citations

  1. Herodotus, The Histories, Book IV.
  2. Schmitt, R. “Scythians,” in Encyclopaedia Iranica, Vol. II, 1987.
  3. Gorelik, M. “Arms and Armor of the Scythians,” Journal of the Arms & Armour Society, Vol. XIII (1989).
  4. Harmatta, J., ed., History of Civilizations of Central Asia, Volume II, UNESCO Publishing, 1994.
  5. Golden, P.B., An Introduction to the History of the Turkic Peoples, Harrassowitz Verlag, 1992.
  6. Soucek, S., A History of Inner Asia, Cambridge University Press, 2000.
  7. Brentjes, B., “Clothing of the Steppe Peoples,” Central Asiatic Journal, Vol. XVI (1972).
  8. “Deel: The Traditional Mongolian Dress,” Mongolian Cultural Center, Washington D.C. (Cultural Resource Publication), 2007.

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