I first met Professor Frye as a graduate student at Harvard. He was a lanky, bow-tied, and sharp-witted Agha Khan Professor of Iranian. He welcomed me to the class by saying if Mohammad would not go to the mountain, the mountain would go to Mohammad. I was auditing his course and, therefore, did not have to fear his grading style, which was reputed to be exacting. I took an immediate liking to him. And I grew fonder of him as I came to know him better.
We collaborated in organizing an international conference on Iran in 1962 when the U. S. foreign policy seemed to be taking a new course under John F. Kennedy. At the conference, Princeton University Professor T. Cuyler Young regretted the CIA intervention in the coup of 1953, Dariush Homayoon (later Minister of Information under the Shah) articulated a nationalist perspective, and Hossein Mahdavy (a National Front opposition leader) outlined an alternative to the Pahlavi regime.
Much to the Shah’s chagrin, Mahdavy’s article later appeared in Foreign Affairs. I later ran into Frye in Tehran, Shiraz, Cambridge, Winchester, Brimfield, and at a Sufi conference in California. He was always jovial and young. He did not seem to age.
Swedish in ethnic background, Frye had a great gift for languages. He spoke a dozen living languages. He knew some dead ones too, including Ancient Pahlavi, Middle Persian, Soghdian, etc. His language abilities opened many doors for him. He was a lovable character.
Unassuming in manners, ready to rough and tumble as the story of his travels show, and with an open heart for high and low. On page 227, he writes, “I felt at home everywhere I lived, which unfortunately made me a poor recorder of particular characteristics of other people.” Frye is a great raconteur. The book is full of the stories of his adventures. Fasten your seat belts. You are going to be taken on a rapid tour of Eurasia. You are also going to meet the most notable Iranology scholars of the 20th century. Although the book is focused on Iran, Afghanistan, and Tajikistan (Greater Iran), in pursuit of his scholarly interests, Frye will take you to Russia, Germany, France, China, India, Pakistan, Japan, and the farthest corners of Central Asia.
Greater Iran is mainly a love letter to Iran. The author wishes to be buried in a mausoleum overlooking the Zayandeh Rud in Isfahan. The prose is peppered with a scholar’s wit and wisdom. It also contains photos of his family and friends, some of them prominent 20th century politicians and scholars. In a nod to the Iranian conspiracy complex, he admits that if he were a spy, he would not be a spy for the KGB or the CIA, but for Iran. It is a lesson in the counter- intuitive effects of history to find out that Frye’s glorious career in Iranian studies began during World War II as a spy for the U. S. Office of Strategic Services.
The book is a pleasure to read. I could not put it down until it was finished. It is also a remarkable account of how micro and macro histories converged during the heady times of the Cold War (1947- 89). Although Frye was never a politician, he handled the political events of his time with great charm, understanding, and forbearance. He is the last of the Mohicans, a breed of scholars who have pursued their subject primarily not out of greed, or lust for power, but for the love their fellow human beings.