Call to Arms is a definitive history of the Iranian People's Fadaʾi Guerrillas. Theoretical frameworks are interwoven with historical narrative, and riveting anecdotes are tempered by conceptual discussions. In one volume, Ali Rahnema has compiled a comprehensive guide to understanding the ideology, activities, and legacy of the Fadaʾis. The experience is like reading an annotated book, guided by useful headings and context. Not intended for the casual bibliophile, it is truly an expert's sourcebook on the Fadaʾis, meant for those who are studying the Iranian guerrila movement, the evolution of Iranian Marxism, and how armed struggle took root in Iranian political discourse.

In around 500 pages, Rahnema examines the Fadaʾis from every angle, escorting the reader through their ideological and political histories: starting with the early stirrings of rebellion and struggle, covering their violent and non-violent actions against the Shah's regime, and ending with their impact on the students’ movement of the 1970s. Divided into a whopping 29 chapters, the book not only presents the group's activities and struggles; it details the backgrounds of the key members. Rahnema humanizes the experience of the Iranian revolutionary, understanding that each member possessed different strengths and faced ethical and practical dilemmas. It is easy to become absorbed in the lives of these men—they are almost exclusively men. The few women members, such as Sheyda Nabavi and Nastaran Al-e Aqa, are not treated with the same level of detail, which speaks of the frustration of accessible information on female Marxist activists.

Chapters 1 to 16 focus on the party's ideological development, the conceptual debates surrounding armed struggle, the Fadaʾis’ position within the Iranian Left, and the party's structural formation. Chapters 17 and 18 are devoted to the Siahkal operation, from its planning to its aftermath. Chapters 19 through 26 explain the changes in the movement's approach, its grappling with armed struggle, and how it breaks down, and is broken down, during their brutal suppression in the 1970s. The final chapters, from 27 to 29, examine the party's contribution to radical politics in Iran and its influence on student opposition to the Shah. Rahnema uses an array of sources to delineate the Fadaʾis’ history, pointing to a close personal relationship with the movement and its members. The group's writings, memoirs, and newspaper clippings appear alongside archival documents, shedding light on new material that provides more details of their journey toward revolutionary struggle. The author's interviews with former members and their friends and associates provide an intimate layer to the sources at his disposal and give the narrative a tangible voice. Using research conducted over a decade, Rahnema's detective-like dedication makes this book an invaluable source of the Fadaʾis’ account of their own history, revealing secret informers and hidden obstacles during the early years of their activities. When he is unable to provide background, Rahnema provides reconstructions of missions, drawing the reader in with rich embellishment. The level of detail renders the absence of visuals insignificant. Details of the planning for a bank robbery include a getaway car that is a light blue Peykan; colorful anecdotes reconstruct the mountain group's movements.

Based on its sources alone, Call to Arms is a significant contribution to our understanding of the lives and work of Iranian Marxists. With its depth and detail, it is an important counterpart to other major studies of the Fadaʾis, namely by Peyman Vahabzadeh.Footnote ¹ Rahnema adds to our knowledge of the inner workings of the armed component of the Iranian Left, joining Ervand Abrahamian's studies on the Tudeh Party and the Mojahedin.Footnote ² However, in an echo of Afshin Matin-Asgari's review of Vahabzadeh's of A Guerrilla Odyssey, Call to Arms presents some challenges.Footnote ³ Both Vahabzadeh and Rahnema have opted to present the history of the Fadaʾis thematically, making it harder to seek out a straightforward narrative. Although a timeline is provided at the end of the book, Rahnema's use of Vahabzadeh's structure suggests that a history of the Fadaʾis cannot be written in any other way, with no clear beginning or end to their story.Footnote ⁴ The raw history is presented, and the reader has the unique experience of witnessing the sources speak for themselves. This is how Rahnema approaches his work, “to avoid making judgments and passing verdicts” (452). However, this leaves the book without a defined argument or narrative, and the reader is left alone to navigate what information is unique and what challenges our understanding of the Fadaʾis. Rahnema joins Vahabzadeh in emphasizing how the meaning of armed struggle changed for the Fadaʾis, pointing to the dynamism of the movement but also the doubts that existed on their path. Where Vahabzadeh limited his focus to Bijan Jazan and Mas'oud Ahmadzadeh, Rahnema includes the intellectual contributions of others, including Hamid Ashraf, Hasan Zia-Zarifi, and Amir-Parviz Pouyan. By devoting significant attention to other idealogues—never done in such detail before—he constructs the philosophical journey of the Fadaʾis toward armed struggle and the nuances between the different styles and visions of Pouyan and Ahmadzadeh. Despite the questioning and re-strategising, the conviction towards Marxist armed struggle appears consistent for Rahnema, which further contributes to the myth and romanticisation surrounding guerrilla fighting.

This attention to the theoretical aspect of the movement is sustained throughout. The reader is taken quickly from reconnaissance missions up mountains to an elaboration of theoretical dilemmas. Calling the trend for armed struggle counterrevolutionary adventurism, Rahnema situates this path to revolution within the discourse of the wider Left. Over the course of four chapters (6–9), he deftly situates the debate regarding armed struggle not only within the thought processes of Iranian Left-wing parties but also within orthodox Marxist doctrine. He concludes that “conflicting passages and references were quoted ad infinitum from the Marxist–Leninist pantheon, supporting opposite sides of the use and timing of armed struggle” (95). Drawing from Marx, Engels, Lenin, and Trotsky, Rahnema makes an important point about the difficulty of basing the Iranian Left's arguments for or against armed struggle on orthodoxy, but eventually shows ample evidence that violence was, in fact, permissible. In doing so, he challenges Abrahamian's assertion of how the Fadaʾis deviated from Marxism-Leninism and supports Matin-Asgari's argument that Marxism was an essential political paradigm, wide enough to accommodate different methods of resistance.Footnote ⁵ Rahnema effectively demonstrates that the Fadaʾis learned from Asian and Latin American practices of armed struggle, placing their writings and plans side by side with the experiences of Che Guevara, Carlos Marghiella, Ho Chi Minh, and Mao Zedong. He departs from presenting the Fadaʾis as a solely Iranian enterprise, noting that “discussions, debates and writings in Iranian revolutionary circles often echoed the experiences and ideas of international Marxist revolutionaries” (112). Echoing Stephanie Cronin's recent revisiting of the Red 1970s, Rahnema portrays the transnational character of armed struggle and how the Fadaʾi leaders and coordinators, from Jazani to Ashraf, drew inspiration from beyond Iran. In doing so, Rahnema, while he does not explicitly says so, continues to perpetuate the global narrative and anti-imperial stance of Marxist revolutionary struggle.

There is a sense of restoring the Fadaʾis’ reputation throughout the book. Indeed, Rahnema concludes by declaring that the movement “popularised a national culture of contestation, defiance, and resistance, which gradually permeated Iranian urban society” (452). To this end, he presents a strong case for the Fadaʾis’ political and cultural impact. Referencing Samad Behrangi's Little Black Fish throughout the book, Rahnema convincingly presents the Fadaʾis’ literary credentials and close relationship to Tehran's literary circles.Footnote ⁶ His description of the Fadaʾis’ influence on opposition to the Shah is more generous and optimistic than Vahabzadeh's, citing Siahkal as a pivotal moment in galvanizing students against the regime. Although the Fadaʾis certainly had an effect, the Confederation of Iranian Students was influenced by many other factors and was drawn to other political organizations as well, from the Tudeh to the National Front.Footnote ⁷

While his book is filled with new information and plenty of fresh details, Rahnema draws familiar conclusions: first, that armed struggle failed in Iran, despite the Fadaʾis’ best efforts and intentions; and second, that it nonetheless influenced international opposition to the shah. However, Rahnema leaves us with an optimistic and revisionist approach in his presentation of the Fadaʾis as a movement of “hope and liberation” (452). He has masterfully told the Fadaʾis’ story, including their writings, their successes, and their failures, leaving readers with the impression of the Fadaʾis as serious, brave, influential, and ideologically driven patriots. Call to Arms restores their story.