Recently, a rumor that the U.S. administration might shift to using the term “Arabian Gulf” in official communications has stirred a renewed wave of controversy. Though unconfirmed, the speculation was amplified by certain Persian Gulf states eager to seize symbolic advantage and frame the sea that separates them from Iran within their own nationalist narratives.

For many Iranians—inside the country or in exile—the name “Khalij-e Fars” (Persian Gulf) is not just a cartographic detail. It represents centuries of historical continuity, cultural presence, and territorial identity. The controversy revealed, once again, that names carry power. They shape memory, assert legitimacy, and—especially in this region—are wielded as instruments in geopolitical contestation.

This article examines how the name “Khalij-e Fars” has been preserved, politicized, and contested over time. Drawing on historical sources, state practices, and reactions from the Iranian diaspora, it reflects the Iran 1400 Project’s commitment to understanding how ideas and institutions evolve—and how symbols like names help nations tell their stories, stake their claims, and respond to external pressures.

From Empire to Eponym: The Ancient Roots of Khalij-e Fars

The name “Persian Gulf” dates back more than two millennia. In the Achaemenid period, inscriptions did not explicitly name the sea, but they were clearly linked to the southern province of Pars (Fars), from which the name derives. Greek geographers such as Ptolemy and Strabo codified Sinus Persicus (Latin: Persian Gulf), which became standard in classical geography.

Later, during the Islamic Golden Age, Arab and Persian geographers, from Al-Mas‘udi to Istakhri, referred to it as “Bahr Fars” or “Khalij al-Farsi”. These labels reflected shared recognition of the region’s geographic and historical realities, long before modern state boundaries existed.

Modern Iran and the Institutionalization of the Name

In the 19th and 20th centuries, as Iran transitioned from a dynastic empire to a modern nation-state, the name “Khalij-e Fars” was institutionalized as part of national identity formation. Maps, school curricula, and diplomatic correspondence—especially under the Pahlavi monarchy—emphasized the term as a fixed national asset.

The Pahlavi regime linked the name to its broader modernization project, seeking to project Iran as a regional leader with deep civilizational roots. In this context, the Persian Gulf was a strategic waterway and a symbol of Iran’s enduring relevance in regional and global affairs.

Post-1979 Islamic Republic: A New Ideology, the Same Name

Despite the ideological rupture of the 1979 Revolution, the Islamic Republic of Iran adopted the name with the same intensity, now embedded in a post-colonial, anti-imperialist narrative. While the Pahlavis had championed it as a mark of historical grandeur, the new regime framed it as a symbol of resistance to foreign intervention and regional revisionism.

In 2005, the government declared April 30 as “National Persian Gulf Day”, commemorating the 1622 expulsion of Portuguese forces from the Strait of Hormuz. The day is marked with academic conferences, military exercises, and media campaigns—all reinforcing the sea’s Persian identity as an unbroken thread in Iran’s historical and territorial integrity.

Arab Nationalism and the “Arabian Gulf” Campaign

The counter-narrative began gaining traction in the mid-20th century, when Arab nationalism, particularly under leaders like Egypt’s Nasser, sought to reclaim regional symbols. As British colonial influence waned and new Arab Gulf states emerged, the term “Arabian Gulf” was introduced into some diplomatic and educational spheres.

Though never internationally codified, it has been promoted by states like Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and Bahrain in official statements, military branding, and media channels. These efforts often coincide with periods of heightened tension with Iran, transforming the naming issue into a proxy battle for regional leadership and legitimacy.

The Latest Rumor: U.S. Naming Shift and Regional Calculations

The most recent wave of controversy stems from rumors—possibly planted or prematurely leaked—that the Biden administration might adopt the term “Arabian Gulf” in upcoming policy language to appease key Arab allies. Though no formal change has been made, the reaction from certain Arab capitals suggests coordinated attempts to pressure Washington into symbolic concessions.

From Tehran’s perspective, even the possibility of such a move is treated as an affront—not just to national pride but also to international norms and historical accuracy. Iran’s Foreign Ministry, academic institutions, and state media responded promptly, framing the issue as a matter of territorial dignity and legal precedent.

Diaspora and Opposition: Unity, Critique, and Divergence

Across the Iranian diaspora, reactions to the Persian Gulf controversy are varied but unified mainly in support for historical accuracy. Nationalists and secular opposition figures denounce the term “Arabian Gulf” as a distortion and rally around “Khalij-e Fars” as a non-partisan emblem of Iranian heritage.

At the same time, some opposition voices criticize the regime’s instrumentalization of the issue, suggesting it is used to distract from domestic crises or suppress more urgent conversations about rights, governance, and reform. Others argue for de-escalation, noting that symbolic disputes should not overshadow diplomacy, dialogue, or regional cooperation.

Names as Institutions: The Broader Significance

What makes this naming dispute enduring is not just the contest over geography—it is how it encapsulates broader themes: the legacy of empire, the logic of nationalism, the fluidity of regional alliances, and the evolution of statecraft.

From the Achaemenid Empire to the Islamic Republic, from Persian geographers to the modern diaspora, the name “Khalij-e Fars” has persisted across ideological transformations. It has been adopted, defended, and reframed by different regimes—not because it is immutable, but because it is institutionally embedded in Iran’s conception of self.

Conclusion

As Iran navigates profound questions about its future—questions of democracy, sovereignty, and regional identity—the dispute over Khalij-e Fars offers more than a historical case study. It reveals how nations construct continuity through symbols, how governments leverage heritage to project power, and how diasporas defend cultural memory across borders.

For the Iran 1400 Project, the Persian Gulf is not just a contested space on a map. It is a reminder that the evolution of Iranian institutions and ideas is shaped not only by policies and events but also by the meanings we attach to the words that endure.