Indeed, my 2007 trip is as a tour through the land of the discontented. Day after day, the car service drivers complain to me about the high prices and rationing of gasoline, as well as the accompanying riots. Restaurateurs tell me about the rising cost of beef and tomatoes. The beet seller just stands beside his steaming handcart and looks down, seemingly depressed and defeated. The cherry seller, his produce on the back of a truck, finds out that my friend works for the government and asks, cynically, that we take a message to aghayoon ("the gentlemen") about how bad everything is. I listen to them all. I buy two kilos of beets instead of one; I buy three kilos of cherries instead of two; I tip the taxis and restaurant waiters high, and their eyes practically pop out in surprise and they smile in gratitude before slipping back into melancholy.
The economy has gone downhill. The newspapers talk about 20 percent annual inflation. Except for basic staples such as bread or rice, prices have soared. Everyone I meet seems to have a day job and a night job and a late night or a weekend job. They crave sympathy and, when they find out I am from the outside, they lay out their income and expenses in front of me without being asked.
"I make here 200,000 Toman"-around $200-"per month and my rent for a room and kitchenette is 400,000 a month," the worker at a music and video shop tells me. "Of course I have to have other jobs."
"Do you have any business with government offices? I know people and can help you get things done," he later offers as we drink tea and again as we part, giving me his card. A few days later, passing by, I decide to pay him a visit and take him out for a chat but the tea shop is closed with a banner stating that they are shut due to illegal activities. A neighbor tells me that officials from the city found proscribed material—a few Western music CDs, I imagine—and took everyone and everything away.
Despite the repression and arrests and closing of the opposition newspapers, Iranians are brave and there are those who speak out. A group of economists send an open letter to Ahmadinejad after he summarily orders banks, including private ones, to reduce their interest rates a few percentage points and throws everything into chaos. The president then travels to the provinces and, like a monarch from centuries past, announces spur-of-the-moment handouts to the citizens. He sets up one crony after another in government posts-many from the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps or the Islamic Basij. Government contracts, including important ones having to do with the oil and gas sector (80 percent of the country's export) are given to insiders who know nothing about oil, gas, technology, or economics.
And, of course, everywhere there is politics: the nuclear quest, Holocaust denial, the incessant talk about "A world without Zionism," the destruction of Israel. A friend in Iran's banking sector reports that every time Ahmadinejad opens his mouth, nervous Iranians shuffle a billion dollars into Dubai banks.
Still, I try to ignore everything; I am intent on being a tourist and playing at homecoming and going from place to place, making friends. I am still charmed by those I meet.
One afternoon I go to a lecture at the Institute for Interreligious Dialogue, which was founded by former president Khatami. It is in a quiet side street in leafy northern Tehran. The group is small—only 20 of us at the most—and includes a top former official whose angelic-faced daughter presides. With a nervousness appropriate to her age, she calls us to order and at length introduces the speaker and runs the question and answer discussion afterwards. Later, she seemingly floats on her chador during the meet and greet, going from group to group and inviting us to have more tea and sweets.
But what stands out most is the former official himself, a cleric in full attire, who sits impassively as the speaker, an academic, waxes poetic about "Islamic globalism" (as opposed to "Western globalization") and then, politely but unmistakably, rebukes him for his careless analysis and for glossing over the mixed and troubled history of Islam as it, violently and quickly, expanded during its early years. That night, again, as with my 2005 trip, I wishfully imagine a maturation of the Islamic Republic, with even high-level leaders seeking dialogue and moderation. This is within three months of the so-called Saffron uprising by the people of Burma—led by monks and violently suppressed by the ruling generals and, when that happens, I reflect on how different Iran is, how Iran is carving a different path to the future.
But the truth is despite the many stories you hear about Ahmadinejad's stupidity and incompetence, he is a clever and successful populist. Like his friend Hugo Chavez of Venezuela, Ahmadinejad has tapped into the large reserve of resentment among Iran's poor and the provincial populations—two groups long mocked and ignored by the country's elites. He takes his cabinet meetings on regular tours of the country. He has his officials accept hand-written notes with requests from the people at rallies. He is a good speaker and, to the Iranian ear, charming. He kisses children, talks to the families of the war martyrs, and liberally doles out oil money. He is said to still live in his modest house in central Tehran rather than the Presidential Palace, and people are impressed by this. He has even championed the occasional progressive reform, such as trying to open soccer matches to female fans and kissing the hand of his old female school teacher in respect. Fundamentalists attacked him both times.
One night, towards the end of my stay, a relative and I go to one of the few restaurants that features live music. It is—as with most fun in Tehran—physically underground. We take a long flight of dangerously steep, no-handrail stairs down into the outlandishly appointed space. The traditional Iranian music—performed by middle-aged male musicians—is played with a special joy, a bit faster than it is supposed to be. As the night wears on, the singer begins to snap his fingers, the hips of the tonbaki shake as he beats at his hand-held drum, and we all gyrate in place, men and women, laughing, clapping rhythmically, talking a bit too loudly.
Suddenly, at five minutes to 10, the music stops, bright lights come on, and everyone quiets down with an air of conspiracy. At 10 sharp, two men walk down the stairs. They are warmly welcomed by the proprietor, quickly seated, and fluttered about by the waiters who set down tea and cake. They stay for only a few minutes and then leave. Presently, the lights dim again, the musicians jump on stage, the music starts, our breath—seemingly held for all those minutes—is once more let out in chatter and singing, and the proprietor goes from table to table explaining. He tells me, the obvious newcomer: "It costs us around twenty of your dollars per night and the Promotion of Virtue and Proscription of Vice inspectors come at the appointed time."
Towards the end of the night, the last song is a version of Ey Iran, the informal national anthem with nary a reference to Islam ("Oh Iran, oh bejeweled land/Oh, your soil is the wellspring of the arts") but this, too, is played and sung faster than the weighty, respectful way it is supposed to be and, in fact, become faster with every verse and repetition, minute after minute, until we are all on feet, singing along, laughing, dancing with abandon, arms swinging, hips free, hijabs ignored, hair down, limits and prohibitions forgotten. I look around and in that tempo and that singing and that momentary absence of forced piety, I can hear a repudiation of political Islam. Thirty years of state-enforced religiosity, of Orwellian-named government agencies, of children encouraged to report on their parents, of thugs in the street wiping off girls' makeup with sandpaper or shoving their bared feet into swarming buckets of cockroaches, of lashing of men and stoning of women, has had the opposite effect and, as if an accelerated natural selection is at work, Iranians have become smarter and more resistant to the sloganeering, hiding behind a morose, fake façade of Islam in the light of day and the street, reverting back to their true selves in the dark of night and the underground.
Power to the People
I was planning another visit in 2009, but scheduling difficulties kept getting in the way. My friends in Iran suggested I visit "after the elections." What happened next needs little retelling. The circumstantial evidence points to a stolen election—the aftermath of which, according to one observer, resembled "a crime scene." The popular will, in the street and the ballot box, seems to have been violently suppressed for the moment. There is a split among high level clerics and leading figures of the Islamic Republic, with some insiders, including Grand Ayatollah Montazeri, even questioning the legitimacy of the Khamenei/Ahmadinejad government. The Revolutionary Guards (under whose formal control the Basiji blackshirts were put early in 2009) have bared their teeth, stating that "the eye of mischief must be blinded completely and gouged out," and have set out to do this with killings and midnight raids and roundup of former officials and opposition figures, all while trying to jam satellite signals and arrest reporters and blame everything on the usual suspects—to wit, the U.S. and U.K. There are also the show-trials, with pajama-clad prisoners in the hundreds filed into an auditorium to confess their "crimes." There is evidence of torture and rape in the prisons—as even some government entities have been forced to admit—as well as deaths under torture.
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Sandi|9.24.09 @ 3:29PM|#
I took a shit in Iran once.
|9.24.09 @ 3:36PM|#
He ought to check out the bluer counties in the USA. I'm my current workplace there is a six foot high poster of Obama's face in the cafeteria, Obama teeshirts are common, and Obama calendars abound. A fair number of businesses in the area sport Obama pictures. No sitting Republican president has ever received such religious devotion. (Reagan wasn't beatified until after he left office).
|9.24.09 @ 4:01PM|#
They speak English in Iran? You learn something new everyday.
ll blow j|9.24.09 @ 4:16PM|#
"They speak English in Iran? You learn something new everyday"
People speak English all over the globe.
Geotpf|9.24.09 @ 4:23PM|#
Brandybuck-And every other pickup in Texas didn't have a Bush bumper sticker a few years back?
|9.24.09 @ 4:32PM|#
Interesting article.
In the first paragraph after the "Power to the People" section heading, there's the word "electionhttp." One imagines that "election" was meant.
And yes, Brandybuck. You figured it out. Obama is exactly like Ahmadinejad. Your workplace cafeteria's poster is just like the level of control in a country where women aren't allowed to show their hair, or touch their boyfriends' fingers, where nobody can drink alcohol or dance.
|9.24.09 @ 4:57PM|#
Religion of Peace but I pray to Obama.
Michael|9.24.09 @ 5:32PM|#
...the McBurger sandwich shop (the one with the large logo of a black African fighter, scantily covered with leaves and holding a shield and a giant speared burger)
Alright, that's it. I know what I'm planning my next vacation around, totalitarian thugs and travel restrictions be damned.
Douglas Gray|9.24.09 @ 6:09PM|#
I have friends in Iran who tell the same story. The people are too well informed and too rebellious; This regime will not last too much longer. Give it 5-10 years maybe.
|9.24.09 @ 6:27PM|#
English is the lingua franca of the twenty first century. There is much hilarity in that simple true statement.
|9.24.09 @ 11:12PM|#
Such an emotive article, I thought that a 12-year old girl wrote it. "Gyrating" to music in your cafe is hardly high drama....for normal people, at least.
Iran is backwards, so who gives a shit about what happens there? Why don't you go to Iran and stay there, your maudlin whining is tedious.
|9.25.09 @ 12:32AM|#
This article is the finest I have ever seen on Reason.com. It is a tribute to the human longing for freedom and justice in the face of oppression. The willingness of the Obama administration to abdicate this country's role as a light unto the nations, as the "last best hope of mankind" is just so sad. The American left is in power, and its hatred of this country and all it has traditionally stood for is plain to see.
It's time for libertarians, conservatives and moderates to declare war on the combination of socialism at home and surrender abroad that is the hallmark of Obama and his followers.
|9.25.09 @ 1:13AM|#
Iran is backwards, so who gives a shit about what happens there? Why don't you go to Iran and stay there, your maudlin whining is tedious.
I guess this qualifies as trolling.
The willingness of the Obama administration to abdicate this country's role as a light unto the nations, as the "last best hope of mankind" is just so sad.
WTF are we supposed to do? Get involved in a third war we don't have the soldiers or resources for?
Will|9.25.09 @ 1:56AM|#
A truly magnificent article, one of the finest I've seen on Reason.
Thank you.
spmonk|9.25.09 @ 2:39AM|#
This is deep.
zoltan|9.25.09 @ 3:29AM|#
Brandybuck-And every other pickup in Texas didn't have a Bush bumper sticker a few years back?
Still do. Unless you live in Austin, where obnoxious Obama sunrise logos, Obamanos, and Obama/Biden stickers abound. Ugggggggggggh.
|9.25.09 @ 7:20AM|#
I dunno, maybe just not kissing the ring of and bemoaning the evil and illegality of the previous government to every tinpot dictator in the world would be a start. Reagan didn't invade the Soviet Union, but he gave moral support to its dissidents. Obama's groveling is sickening, and completely unprecedented for an American president.
proud libitard|9.25.09 @ 9:29AM|#
that chick is totally hit-able
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bryan|9.25.09 @ 6:28PM|#
who knows where iran would be right now if michael jackson didn't die and divert all media attention away
Acai Berry|9.26.09 @ 1:09AM|#
Iran gov is dictator.Iranian should stand united against him
Acai Berry|9.26.09 @ 6:32AM|#
"They speak English in Iran? You learn something new everyday"
People speak English all over the globe.
Colon Cleanse|9.26.09 @ 7:13AM|#
Obama teeshirts are common, and Obama calendars abound. A fair number of businesses in the area sport Obama pictures.
resveratrol|9.26.09 @ 7:50AM|#
It is a tribute to the human longing for freedom and justice in the face of oppression.
Acai Berry
stretch mark removal|9.26.09 @ 8:28AM|#
I think this is a shame that some one is kept away from his family for 27 years. Shame on that country and their government
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