By Judy Stone
Silman-James Press
In the year 2000 I went to see Abbas Kiarostami receive the Akira Kurosawa award at the San Francisco International Film Festival. The famed director thanked the organizers, then surprised everyone by giving away his prize to veteran Iranian actor Behrooz vossoghi. Six years later while reading Judy Stones new book Not Quite a Memoir I was thrilled to see this small yet extraordinary event preserved in writing. For over four decades it seems whenever there has been a quality International film, Judy Stone has been there to create portraits of the artists that created those works of art.
In her treasury of interviews with the world’s leading writers and filmmakers, Stone devotes a dozen or so chapters to Iranian artists. Though the pieces are independent and have been written at different times, the chapters read like the different scenes in a single movie, each contributing to an overall picture of the state of the arts in Iran. One theme in this “movie” dominates all others: censorship.
For instance, among Stone’s stories we find that Bahman Farmanara, director of Smell of Camphor, Fragrance of Jasmine suffered a massive depression after censors turned down his tenth script.
Director Tahmineh Milani was thrown in prison after her political drama, Hidden Half, offended some fundamentalists. Her case as described in Stone’s exclusive interview with the director and her husband, sheds light on the odd complexities of Iranian factional politics. For instance, Hidden Half continued to be screened even after Milani was jailed. President Khatami expressed surprise at the arrest, and when a judge realized Milani had not broken any laws she was released immediately. So who ordered her arrest? And if Milani was cleared of charges, why was her home invaded and her property confiscated after her release?
Dariush Mehrjui, director of Cow, has his own tragicomic experience with censorship . In his interview with the author he mentions that the only movie of his that Khomeini ever saw was Cow, and the late Ayatollah liked it very much. So despite the fact that Mehrjui is a strong critic of the condition of women in Iran, the censors have called him in only once or twice, treating him politely.
Abbas Kiarostami on the other hand has developed a more subtle relationship with the Islamic regime’s censorship. He incorporates the reality of censorship right into his art. Stone quotes him, “We can’t hide ourselves and say, ‘I would have made a fabulous masterpiece if I didn’t have all the limitations.’ We have to accept responsibility for what we create and not make it sound as if it would have been very different had it not been for outside elements such as censorship. I strongly believe that choice is what we have.”
In the chapter on Kiarostami we learn that a cow-milking scene has kept the artist’s The Wind Will Carry Us from receiving theatrical distribution in Iran. This scene is perhaps Kiarostami’s brilliant joke on the clerical regime. By goading the authorities into making an erotic connection between milking a cow and ejaculation, these guardians of public morality have effectively admitted to having dirty minds. Thus the director makes a harsh artistic statement through the very process of banishment.
Besides censorship there are also many intriguing sub-themes in Not Quite a Memoir . There is passion, perseverance and humor. Majid Majidi, director of Children of Heaven and The Color of Paradise told his father he was going to engineering school when in fact he was studying drama. Rakhshan Bani-Etemad, director of The May Lady experienced the death of her father when she was only nine years old. Bahman Ghobadi director of A Time for Drunken Horses attributes his love for movies to the sandwich and a Coca-Cola shack that sat next to the ramshackle theater in his hometown.
And there is heartbreak . Kiarostamis’ wife left him for another man. “I’m not sure if a good marriage is when you break it and let the other person have freedom or if it’s when you try to stay together,” the genius wonders from behind his ever-present dark glasses.
Not Quite a Memoir flies around the world to Spain’s Carlos Saura, Chile’s Isabel Allende, India’s Satyajit Ray. At every landing Stone creates a portrait of the artist as a force for social change. Intriguingly, the author backs up her portrait in words by capturing--with unassuming genius—astonishingly insightful photographs of her interview subjects.
No one at the San Francisco International Film Festival in the year 2000 saw Abbas Kiarostami’s eyes when he gave away his Akira Kurosawa award to Behrooz Vosooghi. For medical reasons Kiarostami never takes off those enigmatic sunglasses. Yet in Not Quite a Memoir Judy Stone’s camera flash cleverly shines right through the artist’s dark glasses to give us the first glimpse of eyes that revolutionized filmmaking with how they saw the world. Her short interviews, like that brief camera flash, are just as clever and penetrating.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Love Iranian-American Style
Directed by Tanaz Eshaghian.
It’s been a long time since American documentaries haven't been reality shows. These days even the respected PBS science series NOVA occasionally airs like an unscripted drama. To create the documentary film Love Iranian-American Style director Tanaz Eshaghian recorded over the years her family’s quixotic quest to find her a suitable husband. The result has the charming humor of My Big Fat Greek Wedding layered over the educational substance of a college course in sociology.
Early in the filmmaker's interviews with the politely distraught Eshaghian clan, we find out that Tanaz, unlike other women in her Jewish-Iranian family, has no use for the strictures of traditional matrimony. She won't marry this doctor or that businessman and have children in her early twenties. She was raised in America and she wants to marry for love.
Realistic about Iranian men's fondness for marrying younger women, the family is worried that if their Tanaz delays much longer her suitors will disappear. In one scene a matchmaker offers to find Eshaghian an excellent Jewish-Iranian husband for $10,000. The director retorts that if she can't find a husband on her own in the next five years then maybe they could do business. “By then it would cost you $100,000,” sighs the matchmaker to roaring laughter from the theater audience.
Eshaghian’s comedy is dark. Throughout we are laughing at pain. The pain of guilt and embarrassment for disappointing her clan, and the pain of a traditional family seeing how Western individualism has contaminated their daughter’s psyche with dissatisfaction. She can no longer look at a rich, handsome suitor from her own social class and think “I could grow to like him.” Having breathed American egalitarianism most of her life, she can only see him as a loser too sissy to ask, “who am I, and what do I really want?”
In answering that question about herself Eshaghian scores her artistic victory in this film. To our surprize we find out that she has also documented her failures in finding love outside of tradition. In a moving display of honesty, she interviews ex-lovers about why the relationship didn't go anywhere. Ironically, her previous boyfriends were turned off by her push for commitment and her mental checklist of qualifications they felt they had to meet. One of them even thought he wasn't rich enough for her. All this time she thought she was running away from the traditions of her clan, she was really just circling back to familiar territory.
In a work of fiction this realization would resolve the plot, setting off the events towards a happy ending. But this is real life. New understanding takes a long time to catch up with who we have become. In Eshaghian’s childhood pictures we see a stubborn looking, rebellious little girl whose wide eyes are brimming with inquisitiveness. She has grown up to be a tall beauty with the same inquisitive eyes. But years of saying “Not good enough for me,” have left on her face--like a watermark—a subtle expression of haughty disapproval, as though the Universe is a cheap sale item she is about to throw back in the bin.
After the screening of her movie, I was introduced to Eshaghian and I told her I would be writing about her movie. “Oh,” she said, “Who do you write for?” That expression on her face made me feel embarrassed I couldn't say, "The New York Times.”
It’s been a long time since American documentaries haven't been reality shows. These days even the respected PBS science series NOVA occasionally airs like an unscripted drama. To create the documentary film Love Iranian-American Style director Tanaz Eshaghian recorded over the years her family’s quixotic quest to find her a suitable husband. The result has the charming humor of My Big Fat Greek Wedding layered over the educational substance of a college course in sociology.
Early in the filmmaker's interviews with the politely distraught Eshaghian clan, we find out that Tanaz, unlike other women in her Jewish-Iranian family, has no use for the strictures of traditional matrimony. She won't marry this doctor or that businessman and have children in her early twenties. She was raised in America and she wants to marry for love.
Realistic about Iranian men's fondness for marrying younger women, the family is worried that if their Tanaz delays much longer her suitors will disappear. In one scene a matchmaker offers to find Eshaghian an excellent Jewish-Iranian husband for $10,000. The director retorts that if she can't find a husband on her own in the next five years then maybe they could do business. “By then it would cost you $100,000,” sighs the matchmaker to roaring laughter from the theater audience.
Eshaghian’s comedy is dark. Throughout we are laughing at pain. The pain of guilt and embarrassment for disappointing her clan, and the pain of a traditional family seeing how Western individualism has contaminated their daughter’s psyche with dissatisfaction. She can no longer look at a rich, handsome suitor from her own social class and think “I could grow to like him.” Having breathed American egalitarianism most of her life, she can only see him as a loser too sissy to ask, “who am I, and what do I really want?”
In answering that question about herself Eshaghian scores her artistic victory in this film. To our surprize we find out that she has also documented her failures in finding love outside of tradition. In a moving display of honesty, she interviews ex-lovers about why the relationship didn't go anywhere. Ironically, her previous boyfriends were turned off by her push for commitment and her mental checklist of qualifications they felt they had to meet. One of them even thought he wasn't rich enough for her. All this time she thought she was running away from the traditions of her clan, she was really just circling back to familiar territory.
In a work of fiction this realization would resolve the plot, setting off the events towards a happy ending. But this is real life. New understanding takes a long time to catch up with who we have become. In Eshaghian’s childhood pictures we see a stubborn looking, rebellious little girl whose wide eyes are brimming with inquisitiveness. She has grown up to be a tall beauty with the same inquisitive eyes. But years of saying “Not good enough for me,” have left on her face--like a watermark—a subtle expression of haughty disapproval, as though the Universe is a cheap sale item she is about to throw back in the bin.
After the screening of her movie, I was introduced to Eshaghian and I told her I would be writing about her movie. “Oh,” she said, “Who do you write for?” That expression on her face made me feel embarrassed I couldn't say, "The New York Times.”
Monday, July 17, 2006
Ceasefire
Directed by Tahmineh Milani
The Iranian box office comedy hit, Ceasefire, shows a man and woman in bed together, but the movie still nominally obeys the Iranian film decency code. The feuding husband and wife have sawed the bed in half. Similarly, a bed sheet always magically wraps itself around the actress’s head like a chador. Male and female actors touch each other but only in fight scenes, shoving each other around. These ploys outline an unspoken rapprochement between internationally-acclaimed filmmaker Tahmineh Milani and Iranian cultural authorities. In return for some liberties, Milani moderates her criticism of Iranian society. No more despotic fathers-in-law as in The Fifth Reaction, no more thugs throwing acid at women’s faces as in Two Women. In previous films Milani attacked relentlessly. In Ceasefire… well, it’s an honest title.
Milani aficionados will long for the foreboding air of menace that was her trademark. They will miss that unbearable fury she used to summon against the unjust. What remains, however, is her signature shrillness and over-the-top dramatization. Scene after scene we watch the quarrelling couple play childish pranks on each other. They smash each other’s favorite glassware, dump dirt on each other’s heads, destroy clothing, sabotage dinner parties, all juvenile antics akin to tying shoelaces together. Originality or suggestiveness--such as grapefruit in the face--would have broken the tedium, but innovation has also declared a ceasefire.
Milani has never engaged in the poetic explorations that make Iranian film a worldwide phenomenon. She does not pretend to be a Makhmalbaaf or a Kiarostami. Her plots demand little of the audience, her characters are readily fathomable. She makes no apologies for this earthiness. Usually she makes up for it by extracting unforgettable performances from her actors. This time she has not been as careful with her casting. Ceasefire has no actors on a par with Gohar Kheirandish, whose lion-hearted Zir Madineh stole the show in The Fifth Reaction.
One wonders why Milani has softened her militancy. Some Iranian women artists are catching on to the way the West uses their work as a propaganda tool against Iran, their fame a pact with the Devil. But an earlier Milani film, Two Women, offers a more introverted motivation. In one of her most moving scenes Niki Karimi’s character pleads with her tyrannical husband to become her friend. Ceasefire looks like an olive branch held out in desperation by a woman artist towards her patriarchal society. In this comedy we glimpse the director’s sad spark of hope that the subjugation of women in Iran can be analyzed rationally and resolved to the satisfaction of both men and women.
To start fresh Milani airs out the stench of misogyny from her sets, and perfumes with comedy what odor remains. The sets are colorful and well lit. The successful husband and wife drive expensive European cars and live in a house with modern furniture and a state-of-the-art home entertainment center. The in-laws are supportive, the neighbors are friendly. The couple don’t seem to have any needs other than the need to grow up. This is the most serious problem with the movie. Aside from their good looks there is nothing there to make us like this ever squabbling couple. In Star Wars, the bickering Han Solo and Princess Leia were endearing because the lovers were in deep trouble with the Evil Empire. Their trivial banter stood in ironic contrast to their noble purpose. In Ceasefire, however, the Evil Empire has been cut out of the plot altogether, leaving us with nothing but pettiness.
A curious gay character stiffens the soggy plot with some physical comedy. Judging by audience laughter this character’s dandified manner is a big hit with Iranians. Americans have little room for indignation here--Eddie Murphy, Robin Williams and Will Ferrell also draw laughs with this stereotype. In an Iranian movie, however, the appearance of a gay man may telegraph a loosening of Iran’s rigid codes of public conduct. Here Milani as an artist is participating in social reform. Cultures that disengage their sexuality from their morality tend to replace the old taboos with more humane ones, such as eliminating the death penalty.
Unfortunately, Milani gets so caught up in improving her society that she neglects her primary role as director and screenwriter. As a result she does too much preaching and not enough story telling. The intriguing plot-character interactions that enlightened us with their irony, have been replaced by a tiresome therapist character, lecturing about our inner child, telling us what to think and feel.
The fact that Ceasefire has shattered box office records in Iran is understandable. The movie is comic relief in a nation starved for optimism and lightheartedness. Also, the social messages in the movie offer safe and entertaining activism, a luxury previously available mostly in the West. Having lightened her load, Milani now operates as a reformer, patiently taking small, practical steps. As a filmmaker, however, she has fallen out of the saddle. It may take tough competition and demanding critics to put this director back on her high horse.
The Iranian box office comedy hit, Ceasefire, shows a man and woman in bed together, but the movie still nominally obeys the Iranian film decency code. The feuding husband and wife have sawed the bed in half. Similarly, a bed sheet always magically wraps itself around the actress’s head like a chador. Male and female actors touch each other but only in fight scenes, shoving each other around. These ploys outline an unspoken rapprochement between internationally-acclaimed filmmaker Tahmineh Milani and Iranian cultural authorities. In return for some liberties, Milani moderates her criticism of Iranian society. No more despotic fathers-in-law as in The Fifth Reaction, no more thugs throwing acid at women’s faces as in Two Women. In previous films Milani attacked relentlessly. In Ceasefire… well, it’s an honest title.
Milani aficionados will long for the foreboding air of menace that was her trademark. They will miss that unbearable fury she used to summon against the unjust. What remains, however, is her signature shrillness and over-the-top dramatization. Scene after scene we watch the quarrelling couple play childish pranks on each other. They smash each other’s favorite glassware, dump dirt on each other’s heads, destroy clothing, sabotage dinner parties, all juvenile antics akin to tying shoelaces together. Originality or suggestiveness--such as grapefruit in the face--would have broken the tedium, but innovation has also declared a ceasefire.
Milani has never engaged in the poetic explorations that make Iranian film a worldwide phenomenon. She does not pretend to be a Makhmalbaaf or a Kiarostami. Her plots demand little of the audience, her characters are readily fathomable. She makes no apologies for this earthiness. Usually she makes up for it by extracting unforgettable performances from her actors. This time she has not been as careful with her casting. Ceasefire has no actors on a par with Gohar Kheirandish, whose lion-hearted Zir Madineh stole the show in The Fifth Reaction.
One wonders why Milani has softened her militancy. Some Iranian women artists are catching on to the way the West uses their work as a propaganda tool against Iran, their fame a pact with the Devil. But an earlier Milani film, Two Women, offers a more introverted motivation. In one of her most moving scenes Niki Karimi’s character pleads with her tyrannical husband to become her friend. Ceasefire looks like an olive branch held out in desperation by a woman artist towards her patriarchal society. In this comedy we glimpse the director’s sad spark of hope that the subjugation of women in Iran can be analyzed rationally and resolved to the satisfaction of both men and women.
To start fresh Milani airs out the stench of misogyny from her sets, and perfumes with comedy what odor remains. The sets are colorful and well lit. The successful husband and wife drive expensive European cars and live in a house with modern furniture and a state-of-the-art home entertainment center. The in-laws are supportive, the neighbors are friendly. The couple don’t seem to have any needs other than the need to grow up. This is the most serious problem with the movie. Aside from their good looks there is nothing there to make us like this ever squabbling couple. In Star Wars, the bickering Han Solo and Princess Leia were endearing because the lovers were in deep trouble with the Evil Empire. Their trivial banter stood in ironic contrast to their noble purpose. In Ceasefire, however, the Evil Empire has been cut out of the plot altogether, leaving us with nothing but pettiness.
A curious gay character stiffens the soggy plot with some physical comedy. Judging by audience laughter this character’s dandified manner is a big hit with Iranians. Americans have little room for indignation here--Eddie Murphy, Robin Williams and Will Ferrell also draw laughs with this stereotype. In an Iranian movie, however, the appearance of a gay man may telegraph a loosening of Iran’s rigid codes of public conduct. Here Milani as an artist is participating in social reform. Cultures that disengage their sexuality from their morality tend to replace the old taboos with more humane ones, such as eliminating the death penalty.
Unfortunately, Milani gets so caught up in improving her society that she neglects her primary role as director and screenwriter. As a result she does too much preaching and not enough story telling. The intriguing plot-character interactions that enlightened us with their irony, have been replaced by a tiresome therapist character, lecturing about our inner child, telling us what to think and feel.
The fact that Ceasefire has shattered box office records in Iran is understandable. The movie is comic relief in a nation starved for optimism and lightheartedness. Also, the social messages in the movie offer safe and entertaining activism, a luxury previously available mostly in the West. Having lightened her load, Milani now operates as a reformer, patiently taking small, practical steps. As a filmmaker, however, she has fallen out of the saddle. It may take tough competition and demanding critics to put this director back on her high horse.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
A Hunger Strike
Starting tomorrow July 14 there will be a 3 day worldwide hunger strike to protest the Islamic Republic’s crackdowns against Iranians who insist on their human rights. The hunger strike has been organized around the feisty investigative journalist Akbar Ganji who nearly died last year after a prison hunger strike lasting several weeks.
A hunger strike is a powerful political tool. The tactic was used by the pre-Christian Irish as an effective way of demanding justice. There would be tremendous loss of prestige and therefore power for a lord who allowed a plaintiff to die of hunger at his gate. Ghandi used the tactic against the British, winning independence for India, and the IRA used it effectively to win sympathy for its cause. Ironically Bobby Sands street in Iran is named after an IRA activist who died during a hunger strike in a British prison.
We feel hunger as simple organisms in need of fuel. But in resisting hunger we become aware of our own complexity as humans. When other people are fasting with us, empathy and solidarity hugely expand this awareness so that the metaphoric hunger for freedom becomes as powerful as the physical craving for life sustaining food. Akbar Ganji understands this better than most, which is why he has called for this particular way of protesting.
Ganji gained notoriety during the relatively liberal Presidency of Khatami when he was allowed to publicly criticize Khatami’s political enemies. The journalist went for the jugular, tracking the murderers of several of Iran’s influential intellectuals. A few of the killers were tried and executed, but Ganji, never got his chance to fully connect the murders to the ruling Islamic elite. He was sentenced to Jail.
A former member of the Revolutionary Guard Ganji had been assigned to “Doctrine and Politics.” His job as an intellectual was to encourage revolutionary values in Iranians. In a way this is still his job. Disillusioned by the Islamic regime’s stewardship of the Iranian revolution, Ganji has been calling for a more democratic, more tolerant and less misogynistic rule in Iran. He believes religion and state should be separated and has asked the all powerful Supreme Leader to step down.
With his past in the Revolutionary Guard it is difficult to embrace Ganji politically, but he has shown the courage of his faith and he has helped bring murderers to justice. In a democratic Iran he would make a worthy opposition. Meanwhile I stand with him in this hunger strike .
Here’s some where-and-when info on this worldwide protest.
A hunger strike is a powerful political tool. The tactic was used by the pre-Christian Irish as an effective way of demanding justice. There would be tremendous loss of prestige and therefore power for a lord who allowed a plaintiff to die of hunger at his gate. Ghandi used the tactic against the British, winning independence for India, and the IRA used it effectively to win sympathy for its cause. Ironically Bobby Sands street in Iran is named after an IRA activist who died during a hunger strike in a British prison.
We feel hunger as simple organisms in need of fuel. But in resisting hunger we become aware of our own complexity as humans. When other people are fasting with us, empathy and solidarity hugely expand this awareness so that the metaphoric hunger for freedom becomes as powerful as the physical craving for life sustaining food. Akbar Ganji understands this better than most, which is why he has called for this particular way of protesting.
Ganji gained notoriety during the relatively liberal Presidency of Khatami when he was allowed to publicly criticize Khatami’s political enemies. The journalist went for the jugular, tracking the murderers of several of Iran’s influential intellectuals. A few of the killers were tried and executed, but Ganji, never got his chance to fully connect the murders to the ruling Islamic elite. He was sentenced to Jail.
A former member of the Revolutionary Guard Ganji had been assigned to “Doctrine and Politics.” His job as an intellectual was to encourage revolutionary values in Iranians. In a way this is still his job. Disillusioned by the Islamic regime’s stewardship of the Iranian revolution, Ganji has been calling for a more democratic, more tolerant and less misogynistic rule in Iran. He believes religion and state should be separated and has asked the all powerful Supreme Leader to step down.
With his past in the Revolutionary Guard it is difficult to embrace Ganji politically, but he has shown the courage of his faith and he has helped bring murderers to justice. In a democratic Iran he would make a worthy opposition. Meanwhile I stand with him in this hunger strike .
Here’s some where-and-when info on this worldwide protest.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
An Ancient Heritage Threatened
American tourist Diana Campuzano was having lunch on a Jerusalem sidewalk when a Hamas suicide bomber struck. Now a US court has ruled that since Iran supports Hamas financially, ancient Iranian artifacts housed at the University of Chicago may be auctioned to compensate Ms. Campuzano for her injuries. Here’s how court records describe the victim’s physical condition after the attack:
A team of doctors performed a five-hour craniotomy on Ms. Campuzano to remove multiple bone fragments, repair the ruptures in her brain coverings, and repair her anterior skull base fracture with mini plates, bone cement , and her own harvested tissue…Ms. Campuzano’s permanent injuries include impaired vision, damage to the retina of her right eye, cataracts in both eyes, destroyed left ear drum.
Ms. Campuzano, one of eight plaintiffs sharing the 300 million dollar award had this to say after Israel assassinated Hamas leader Sheik Ahmed Yassin. ”I'm so happy they killed that son of a bitch. I was so excited, so excited. I hate them. They changed my life. As far as I'm concerned, they can kill them all."
As if all this pain and anger was not enough, Ms. Campuzano’s monetary award carries with it a tragic irony . Having converted to Judaism after the incident, her court victory is about to inflict serious damage to this ancient heritage. The Achaemenid artifacts about to be auctioned off are nothing to Islam and everything to Judaism.
1200 years before Islam, the Achaemenid king Cyrus freed the Jews from their Babylonian captivity. An unnamed prophet in the book of Isaiah says: Thus said the Lord to Cyrus, His anointed one…I call you by name. I hail you by title though you have not known Me (Isaiah 45). About the rebuilding of the Second Temple the book of Ezra says “Thus said King Cyrus of Persia: The Lord God of Heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of earth and has charged me with building him a house in Jerusalem. (Ezra 1). There are verses in Ezra about the rebuilding of the temple that hint at undiscovered stories reminiscent of the support of some modern Diapora Jews for the state of Israel. “All their neighbors [Jews who preferred to stay in the Achaemenid empire rather than move to Jerusalem] supported them with silver vessels, with gold, with goods, with livestock, and with precious objects…”
Who were the Jews who stayed behind? Clues to their stories are somewhere in Achaemenid archeology. The bible follows only a few. Esther became a beloved queen to the Achaemenid king Xerxes. Her uncle Mordechai became the prime minister to the Achamenid empire. An Achaemenid Disraeli. What about the important Iranian Jews that the bible does not mention? Fragments of their lives may have survived in those tablets. The Jewish festival of Purim began with Achaemenid Jews. This festival commemorates a palace intrigue full of political rivalry, romantic seduction, gratuitous violence, and in an outdated sense, justice. What are the juicy historical facts behind Purim? The answers may be encoded somewhere in those ten thousand Achaemenid tablets and artifacts about to be auctioned to private collectors.
It would be misleading to claim that this particular set of Achamenian artifacts contain the history of Achaemenid Judaism. But tiny clues can unravel big mysteries. A seal here, a symbol there, the clues may be in the meaning of the inscriptions, in the chemical composition of the tablet, on a bit of reed or a strand of hair stuck in the clay. Less dramatically, each bit of knowledge contributes to the critical mass needed for the chain reaction of understanding.
The details of the legal tragedy are complicated. Basically the Islamic Republic of Iran did not bother to show up as a defendant, and the plaintiffs won by default. The issue has caused the executive branch and the Judicial branch to lock legal horns so that at this point an act of congress is the most promising way to save these artifacts. Elected officials however do not wish to appear to be taking the side of Iran. To make the job more attractive congress needs to know that there is public support for it. In a predominantly Judeo-Christian nation, emphasizing the connection of these artifacts to the bible would make it more likely for congress to act.
On the International front, Iran has threatened to retaliate if the artifacts are auctioned. Retaliate how? One may worry. By further destroying humanity’s common heritage? Iran must make it clear that this is not the content of its threat. By taking a morally strong position Iran would make it easier to gain public support for the cause of keeping these artifacts where they belong, in universities and museums.
The state of Israel is paying Diana Campuzano’s medical bills. To add farsightedness to generosity Israel should do what it can to help save these Achaemenid artifacts from being cast into the winds of commerce. Not only are the artifacts relevant to her own history, Israel should keep in mind that Iran may not stay a radical Islamic Republic. When the time comes for Iran to reassess her policy towards Israel, the Achaemenid Cyrus would be pleased that the nation he once freed from slavery remembered him and returned his favor.
Refrences:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyrus_in_the_Judeo-Christian_tradition
Esther’s Children A portrait of Iranian Jews.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purim
A team of doctors performed a five-hour craniotomy on Ms. Campuzano to remove multiple bone fragments, repair the ruptures in her brain coverings, and repair her anterior skull base fracture with mini plates, bone cement , and her own harvested tissue…Ms. Campuzano’s permanent injuries include impaired vision, damage to the retina of her right eye, cataracts in both eyes, destroyed left ear drum.
Ms. Campuzano, one of eight plaintiffs sharing the 300 million dollar award had this to say after Israel assassinated Hamas leader Sheik Ahmed Yassin. ”I'm so happy they killed that son of a bitch. I was so excited, so excited. I hate them. They changed my life. As far as I'm concerned, they can kill them all."
As if all this pain and anger was not enough, Ms. Campuzano’s monetary award carries with it a tragic irony . Having converted to Judaism after the incident, her court victory is about to inflict serious damage to this ancient heritage. The Achaemenid artifacts about to be auctioned off are nothing to Islam and everything to Judaism.
1200 years before Islam, the Achaemenid king Cyrus freed the Jews from their Babylonian captivity. An unnamed prophet in the book of Isaiah says: Thus said the Lord to Cyrus, His anointed one…I call you by name. I hail you by title though you have not known Me (Isaiah 45). About the rebuilding of the Second Temple the book of Ezra says “Thus said King Cyrus of Persia: The Lord God of Heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of earth and has charged me with building him a house in Jerusalem. (Ezra 1). There are verses in Ezra about the rebuilding of the temple that hint at undiscovered stories reminiscent of the support of some modern Diapora Jews for the state of Israel. “All their neighbors [Jews who preferred to stay in the Achaemenid empire rather than move to Jerusalem] supported them with silver vessels, with gold, with goods, with livestock, and with precious objects…”
Who were the Jews who stayed behind? Clues to their stories are somewhere in Achaemenid archeology. The bible follows only a few. Esther became a beloved queen to the Achaemenid king Xerxes. Her uncle Mordechai became the prime minister to the Achamenid empire. An Achaemenid Disraeli. What about the important Iranian Jews that the bible does not mention? Fragments of their lives may have survived in those tablets. The Jewish festival of Purim began with Achaemenid Jews. This festival commemorates a palace intrigue full of political rivalry, romantic seduction, gratuitous violence, and in an outdated sense, justice. What are the juicy historical facts behind Purim? The answers may be encoded somewhere in those ten thousand Achaemenid tablets and artifacts about to be auctioned to private collectors.
It would be misleading to claim that this particular set of Achamenian artifacts contain the history of Achaemenid Judaism. But tiny clues can unravel big mysteries. A seal here, a symbol there, the clues may be in the meaning of the inscriptions, in the chemical composition of the tablet, on a bit of reed or a strand of hair stuck in the clay. Less dramatically, each bit of knowledge contributes to the critical mass needed for the chain reaction of understanding.
The details of the legal tragedy are complicated. Basically the Islamic Republic of Iran did not bother to show up as a defendant, and the plaintiffs won by default. The issue has caused the executive branch and the Judicial branch to lock legal horns so that at this point an act of congress is the most promising way to save these artifacts. Elected officials however do not wish to appear to be taking the side of Iran. To make the job more attractive congress needs to know that there is public support for it. In a predominantly Judeo-Christian nation, emphasizing the connection of these artifacts to the bible would make it more likely for congress to act.
On the International front, Iran has threatened to retaliate if the artifacts are auctioned. Retaliate how? One may worry. By further destroying humanity’s common heritage? Iran must make it clear that this is not the content of its threat. By taking a morally strong position Iran would make it easier to gain public support for the cause of keeping these artifacts where they belong, in universities and museums.
The state of Israel is paying Diana Campuzano’s medical bills. To add farsightedness to generosity Israel should do what it can to help save these Achaemenid artifacts from being cast into the winds of commerce. Not only are the artifacts relevant to her own history, Israel should keep in mind that Iran may not stay a radical Islamic Republic. When the time comes for Iran to reassess her policy towards Israel, the Achaemenid Cyrus would be pleased that the nation he once freed from slavery remembered him and returned his favor.
Refrences:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cyrus_in_the_Judeo-Christian_tradition
Esther’s Children A portrait of Iranian Jews.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purim
Monday, July 03, 2006
Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been
Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been:
New Writing by Women of the Iranian Diaspora
Edited by Persis Karim
“Ey khoda een vasl raa hejraan makon,“ says Rumi. God, do not let this union become a hejraan. The Persian word hejraan begins with a sigh and breaks like a sob. It cannot be translated into English. Yet in her poem “Separation,” Iranian-American poet Farnaz Fatemi hints at the meaning:
“…I have learned too much
about movement, not enough about
how the heart can translate
the language of separation into words.”
Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been translates the language of hejraan into English. The result is deep literature sometimes surpassing what could have been said in Persian. Perhaps circumstance has led the writers in this collection to appreciate an extra dimension in the opening verses of Rumi’s Mathnavi:
"Listen to the reed for it tells a story,
complaining of separations"
Rumi too was writing in a land far from his ancestral home. His mystical desire to return to the Beloved is rooted in the earth of his birthplace. Like some of the contributors in Let Me Tell You, Rumi’s exile began when he was just a child. His family was driven away by the Mongol invasion. This thirteenth century social upheaval decimated Iran’s population and gouged deep wounds in the Iranian psyche.
The trauma of Iran’s 1979 revolution has now added another scar. Many of the modern day Rumis in Let Me Tell You have been driven away by the revolution and Iran’s subsequent war with Iraq. How the pain is expressed in writing reflects individual personalities. Gelareh Asayesh is mystical. She says, “With that first trip back [to Iran], I began the long, slow road toward resurrecting a buried self. And vowed I would never suffer that inner shriveling of an isolated core, the immigrant’s small death, again.”
Niloofar Kalaam’s “The Sun Is a Dying Star” seems a rambling Jane Austen dilemma of love and money in marriage, but suddenly snaps into harsh focus as a powerful tale of imprisonment and rape.
Parinaz Eleish makes her lament this way:
"And my brother’s off to war.
How thoughtlessly beautiful the persimmons
Feel in the bloody dusk.
I long to hang from a tree
Watch my grandmother pray in the shade.
For even one more day."
Refusing to board the back of a bus in Tehran, Mitra Parineh’s American-born female character explains to her aunt, “We did this with black people in our country, a long time ago. How can you be serious? I will not ride that fucking bus.”
To which the aunt replies, “Stop it. This is not your country. This is not your people.”
Yet a few pages into the story the ache of hejran begs for reunion:
"Ay Khaleh, she says to me and sighs big. I am listening carefully, hoping she'll say something
and it occurs to me for the first time: why do we do this in Farsi? I call her Khaleh, Auntie, and
she calls me Khaleh back. I think of my father. Baba, Daddy. Baba Joon, he calls me, Daddy
Dear. They reverse the casual term of endearment and it becomes that-- endearing,
affectionate."
Yes “they” do speak with the voice of their beloved, and the effect is more than endearment, it is oneness. It is “they” being “us.”
Michelle Koukhab’s hejraan manifests in her yearning for the tender touch of tradition in the postpartum ritual of the public bath, where
"Sisters wrap my mother’s waist with egg yolk
and chick-peas paste…
[In America] I can have children, but no healing ceremony.
In my healing of parts below the navel, I can only spread
Glue with tongue depressors. This gap opens sometimes
Between the places we are born and the places that we live."
Hejraan in English.
Yet with poetic irony some of the writers protest that their Western refuge is not far enough from tradition. Sheila Shirazi, perhaps after a bitter breakup:
"…The hands of the cultural clock
are closed ‘round my throat…
Are you happy now, Maman, Baba?
No more fucking."
Some have concluded that their Western refuge is no refuge at all. In an excerpt from Funny in Farsi, her best selling panegyric on America, even Firoozeh Dumas manages a suppressed ouch. “My relatives did not think Americans were very kind,” she complains timidly. But the Iranian American writer PAZ is more colorfully outspoken:
"[Before the 1979 revolution] one of my favorite memories is of the time when Becky
showed me how to use a red plastic Barbie golf club to get myself off, and then subsequently
to get her off as well. After we were done playing in the lazy, sun-strewn desert
afternoons we would slip away to Becky’s apartment to eat an early American supper....
[After the 1979 revolution] Becky’s family stopped inviting me over for pork
dinners.TheWright sisters, who were my favorite orange tree pals, were no longer allowed to
come over in the afternoons to play. Their father who was a minister at the Presbyterian
church around the corner, stopped dropping by to have enlightened religious conversations
with my father. And someone—to this day I don’t know who—blew the cover on my sexual
adventures....
It was 1979 and I realized that my whole world has shifted. I was going to have to reinvent
myself so I could belong in America, belong to my Muslim Iranian family, belong to a world
which didn’t like me as I was. I had a long, hard road ahead of me."
For PAZ politics was a slap in the face to wake up to the realities of tribalism, while for Poet Sanaz Banu Nikaein the awakening moment comes every time she looks in the social mirror, "I am an Iranian with terrorist tattooed on my forehead…."
The brilliant Azadeh Moaveni needs no awakening to politics. Her book Lipstick Jihad sometimes dazzles with insight. The excerpt in Let Me Tell You is one of her dimmer moments, but it does reveal an interesting phenomenon—how Iranian-Americans import Western values into Iran. When an Iranian girlfriend seeks advice about a romantic partner, Moaveni offers this bit of naïve American feminism:
"So I tried to explain that like many men, her boyfriend was intimidated by how much he
wanted sex and that it was easier for him to vulgarize intimacy than admit that she (a mere
girl/woman) controlled the supply of the most powerful physical experience of his existence.”
Supply?? Capitalist feminism at its most crass! The politically savvy Moaveni would agree that righting of Iran’s policy towards women is more urgent than any military preparations. Gaining the women’s support is not only a human rights issue, it’s a matter of national survival. Therefore, we look to thoughful people like Moaveni to think out-of-the-box, to discover new, workable solutions that do not trigger Iran's immune reaction to transplantation. Western feminist rancor has proven counter-productive even in the West.
And in return for such Western exports, what have these Iranian-American women writers imported from Iranian culture? Its most valuable treasure—Iran’s literary tradition. Mimi Khalvati’s poem in the ghazal style of Hafez is such an astonishingly beautiful love poem I am tempted to reproduce it here in its entirety. But it feels like sacrilege to put such gentleness through computer hardware. Read it in the book.
Some Muslim Iranian-Americans don’t place the Koran on their Haftsin table anymore. The excesses of the Islamic Republic have inclined them to decorate the traditional spread with a book of Hafez instead. Perhaps Diaspora Iranians should start a new custom. Each year place the new book that has most clearly expressed our hejraan. I nominate Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been as the Haftsin book of the year.
New Writing by Women of the Iranian Diaspora
Edited by Persis Karim
“Ey khoda een vasl raa hejraan makon,“ says Rumi. God, do not let this union become a hejraan. The Persian word hejraan begins with a sigh and breaks like a sob. It cannot be translated into English. Yet in her poem “Separation,” Iranian-American poet Farnaz Fatemi hints at the meaning:
“…I have learned too much
about movement, not enough about
how the heart can translate
the language of separation into words.”
Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been translates the language of hejraan into English. The result is deep literature sometimes surpassing what could have been said in Persian. Perhaps circumstance has led the writers in this collection to appreciate an extra dimension in the opening verses of Rumi’s Mathnavi:
"Listen to the reed for it tells a story,
complaining of separations"
Rumi too was writing in a land far from his ancestral home. His mystical desire to return to the Beloved is rooted in the earth of his birthplace. Like some of the contributors in Let Me Tell You, Rumi’s exile began when he was just a child. His family was driven away by the Mongol invasion. This thirteenth century social upheaval decimated Iran’s population and gouged deep wounds in the Iranian psyche.
The trauma of Iran’s 1979 revolution has now added another scar. Many of the modern day Rumis in Let Me Tell You have been driven away by the revolution and Iran’s subsequent war with Iraq. How the pain is expressed in writing reflects individual personalities. Gelareh Asayesh is mystical. She says, “With that first trip back [to Iran], I began the long, slow road toward resurrecting a buried self. And vowed I would never suffer that inner shriveling of an isolated core, the immigrant’s small death, again.”
Niloofar Kalaam’s “The Sun Is a Dying Star” seems a rambling Jane Austen dilemma of love and money in marriage, but suddenly snaps into harsh focus as a powerful tale of imprisonment and rape.
Parinaz Eleish makes her lament this way:
"And my brother’s off to war.
How thoughtlessly beautiful the persimmons
Feel in the bloody dusk.
I long to hang from a tree
Watch my grandmother pray in the shade.
For even one more day."
Refusing to board the back of a bus in Tehran, Mitra Parineh’s American-born female character explains to her aunt, “We did this with black people in our country, a long time ago. How can you be serious? I will not ride that fucking bus.”
To which the aunt replies, “Stop it. This is not your country. This is not your people.”
Yet a few pages into the story the ache of hejran begs for reunion:
"Ay Khaleh, she says to me and sighs big. I am listening carefully, hoping she'll say something
and it occurs to me for the first time: why do we do this in Farsi? I call her Khaleh, Auntie, and
she calls me Khaleh back. I think of my father. Baba, Daddy. Baba Joon, he calls me, Daddy
Dear. They reverse the casual term of endearment and it becomes that-- endearing,
affectionate."
Yes “they” do speak with the voice of their beloved, and the effect is more than endearment, it is oneness. It is “they” being “us.”
Michelle Koukhab’s hejraan manifests in her yearning for the tender touch of tradition in the postpartum ritual of the public bath, where
"Sisters wrap my mother’s waist with egg yolk
and chick-peas paste…
[In America] I can have children, but no healing ceremony.
In my healing of parts below the navel, I can only spread
Glue with tongue depressors. This gap opens sometimes
Between the places we are born and the places that we live."
Hejraan in English.
Yet with poetic irony some of the writers protest that their Western refuge is not far enough from tradition. Sheila Shirazi, perhaps after a bitter breakup:
"…The hands of the cultural clock
are closed ‘round my throat…
Are you happy now, Maman, Baba?
No more fucking."
Some have concluded that their Western refuge is no refuge at all. In an excerpt from Funny in Farsi, her best selling panegyric on America, even Firoozeh Dumas manages a suppressed ouch. “My relatives did not think Americans were very kind,” she complains timidly. But the Iranian American writer PAZ is more colorfully outspoken:
"[Before the 1979 revolution] one of my favorite memories is of the time when Becky
showed me how to use a red plastic Barbie golf club to get myself off, and then subsequently
to get her off as well. After we were done playing in the lazy, sun-strewn desert
afternoons we would slip away to Becky’s apartment to eat an early American supper....
[After the 1979 revolution] Becky’s family stopped inviting me over for pork
dinners.TheWright sisters, who were my favorite orange tree pals, were no longer allowed to
come over in the afternoons to play. Their father who was a minister at the Presbyterian
church around the corner, stopped dropping by to have enlightened religious conversations
with my father. And someone—to this day I don’t know who—blew the cover on my sexual
adventures....
It was 1979 and I realized that my whole world has shifted. I was going to have to reinvent
myself so I could belong in America, belong to my Muslim Iranian family, belong to a world
which didn’t like me as I was. I had a long, hard road ahead of me."
For PAZ politics was a slap in the face to wake up to the realities of tribalism, while for Poet Sanaz Banu Nikaein the awakening moment comes every time she looks in the social mirror, "I am an Iranian with terrorist tattooed on my forehead…."
The brilliant Azadeh Moaveni needs no awakening to politics. Her book Lipstick Jihad sometimes dazzles with insight. The excerpt in Let Me Tell You is one of her dimmer moments, but it does reveal an interesting phenomenon—how Iranian-Americans import Western values into Iran. When an Iranian girlfriend seeks advice about a romantic partner, Moaveni offers this bit of naïve American feminism:
"So I tried to explain that like many men, her boyfriend was intimidated by how much he
wanted sex and that it was easier for him to vulgarize intimacy than admit that she (a mere
girl/woman) controlled the supply of the most powerful physical experience of his existence.”
Supply?? Capitalist feminism at its most crass! The politically savvy Moaveni would agree that righting of Iran’s policy towards women is more urgent than any military preparations. Gaining the women’s support is not only a human rights issue, it’s a matter of national survival. Therefore, we look to thoughful people like Moaveni to think out-of-the-box, to discover new, workable solutions that do not trigger Iran's immune reaction to transplantation. Western feminist rancor has proven counter-productive even in the West.
And in return for such Western exports, what have these Iranian-American women writers imported from Iranian culture? Its most valuable treasure—Iran’s literary tradition. Mimi Khalvati’s poem in the ghazal style of Hafez is such an astonishingly beautiful love poem I am tempted to reproduce it here in its entirety. But it feels like sacrilege to put such gentleness through computer hardware. Read it in the book.
Some Muslim Iranian-Americans don’t place the Koran on their Haftsin table anymore. The excesses of the Islamic Republic have inclined them to decorate the traditional spread with a book of Hafez instead. Perhaps Diaspora Iranians should start a new custom. Each year place the new book that has most clearly expressed our hejraan. I nominate Let Me Tell You Where I Have Been as the Haftsin book of the year.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Iranian women writers on KQED
This Thursday KQED’s live call-in program, Forum, hosted some of the contributors to the book Let Me Tell You Where I’ve Been, New Writing By Women of the Iranian Diaspora. From their comments it was clear that these Iranian-American women writers were careful not to fan the anti-Iran flames that have facilitated the Bush administration's plan to invade Iran. For example, one of the guests mentioned that Americans should not judge living conditions in Iran by what they see in Iranian movies. These films are dramatizations of Iran’s social issues, not literal reenactments. I saw her point immediately. Would we take the bleak and gut wrenching Oscar winner “Monster” as a snapshot of American life? Another guest mentioned that while her work does not paint a rosy picture of Iran, she does not wish to leave out what rosiness there is. One guest hinted at similarities between Iran and the United States regarding the erosion of civil rights and its connection to religious fundamentalism.
In response to this careful land-mine treading, American callers phoned in with attacks. Do you not lose credibility when you compare Iran’s theocracy with the influence of religion in American life? Where is the morality police in America? Where are the veiled women in America? Another caller phoned in his support. Michael Krasny, the host of Forum tried to shield his guests by correctly mentioning that these writers and poets are not experts on the policies of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Yet that did not stop the next caller from asking the panel to comment on Iran’s appointing Saiid Mortazavi to lead her delegation to the UN Human Rights Council. With this request the caller, Judy Stone, shelled with devastating accuracy an already hard to defend position. Among other human rights crimes Mortezavi is accused of complicity in the murder of Zahra Kazemi, the Iranian-Canadian journalist who died while in Iranian police custody. It was a moment of great tension in the show.
Judy Stone is an author and former film reviewer for the San Francisco Chronicle. And she is no Iran hater. On the contrary I consider her to be an Iranophile, because her recent book Not Quite a Memoir devotes many pages to Iranian filmmakers. The philanthropic outlook of this book leaves no doubt that its author wishes to see Iranian artists thrive in a country that is worthy of their talent. She does not however seem to have caught on to the concern of the show’s guests: we live in a political environment where too much negative publicity on Iran could lead to the deaths of thousands of Iranians—millions in case of a nuclear attack-- and the destruction of this country’s heritage and infrastructure. How then to respond to the Judy Stones of America?
The best policy is to follow Iranian Noble Laureate Shirin Ebadi’s lead. Go ahead and say what you believe. Yes, Iran’s government must be held accountable for the death of Zahra Kazemi and for countless other human rights violations, but this does not in any way mean that the United States should invade Iran.
Like the baby’s real mother seeking Solomon’s justice we must make it clear that we do not support a regime change that may cost more lives than it saves. The pillars of human rights rest on the solid ground that life should not be sacrificed to principle. Confronted with rights abuse questions about Iran, our first human rights obligation is to make the questioner clarify his/her position on the subject of military intervention in Iran. “Before I answer that, I would like to know where you stand on the subject of the military invasion of Iran by the United States.” This is not an out of place request under the current circumstances. If the questioner approves of such an invasion then clearly his/her human rights concerns need further maturing. If however the questioner takes a clear stand against war with Iran we have succeeded in distinguishing a person of conscience from a warmonger masquerading as one.
In response to this careful land-mine treading, American callers phoned in with attacks. Do you not lose credibility when you compare Iran’s theocracy with the influence of religion in American life? Where is the morality police in America? Where are the veiled women in America? Another caller phoned in his support. Michael Krasny, the host of Forum tried to shield his guests by correctly mentioning that these writers and poets are not experts on the policies of the Islamic Republic of Iran. Yet that did not stop the next caller from asking the panel to comment on Iran’s appointing Saiid Mortazavi to lead her delegation to the UN Human Rights Council. With this request the caller, Judy Stone, shelled with devastating accuracy an already hard to defend position. Among other human rights crimes Mortezavi is accused of complicity in the murder of Zahra Kazemi, the Iranian-Canadian journalist who died while in Iranian police custody. It was a moment of great tension in the show.
Judy Stone is an author and former film reviewer for the San Francisco Chronicle. And she is no Iran hater. On the contrary I consider her to be an Iranophile, because her recent book Not Quite a Memoir devotes many pages to Iranian filmmakers. The philanthropic outlook of this book leaves no doubt that its author wishes to see Iranian artists thrive in a country that is worthy of their talent. She does not however seem to have caught on to the concern of the show’s guests: we live in a political environment where too much negative publicity on Iran could lead to the deaths of thousands of Iranians—millions in case of a nuclear attack-- and the destruction of this country’s heritage and infrastructure. How then to respond to the Judy Stones of America?
The best policy is to follow Iranian Noble Laureate Shirin Ebadi’s lead. Go ahead and say what you believe. Yes, Iran’s government must be held accountable for the death of Zahra Kazemi and for countless other human rights violations, but this does not in any way mean that the United States should invade Iran.
Like the baby’s real mother seeking Solomon’s justice we must make it clear that we do not support a regime change that may cost more lives than it saves. The pillars of human rights rest on the solid ground that life should not be sacrificed to principle. Confronted with rights abuse questions about Iran, our first human rights obligation is to make the questioner clarify his/her position on the subject of military intervention in Iran. “Before I answer that, I would like to know where you stand on the subject of the military invasion of Iran by the United States.” This is not an out of place request under the current circumstances. If the questioner approves of such an invasion then clearly his/her human rights concerns need further maturing. If however the questioner takes a clear stand against war with Iran we have succeeded in distinguishing a person of conscience from a warmonger masquerading as one.
Monday, June 12, 2006
We Are Here: a San Francisco Bay Area Exhibit
The subdued gallery chatter is in Persian. The young women crowding the Iranian Yellow Pages collage hush each other genially, their giggles like Chihuahuas on dainty leashes. I have found my own display of pages to stare at, these ones yellowed with age. Khosro Golsorkhi stares back from a 1975 poster. “He had courage,” I used to say of the leftist poet who chose execution rather than ask clemency from the Shah. “Our death is eternal life,” the martyr said. “We leave this world so that our tradition of resistance remains.” He had a wife and a young son as I recall, and the Shah permitted a last visit before the execution. As a young college student I couldn’t understand why Golsorkhi turned down the offer. As a father with children I finally understand. His son would beg him to live, and the father’s resolve would not hold.
There’s another giggle, this one coming from a little girl prancing from display to display. She probably doesn't realize it but she’s making funny faces underneath a picture of an old Newsweek photo of Khomeini. “Iran thumbs her nose at grief,” is the title of this brief work of art. I named it that. The creators of this living exhibit, artist Taraneh Hemami and scholar Persis Karim would have been pleased to see it flicker to life then annihilate itself with the call of a harried mother. “I am here,” said the little girl.
Three older looking women have been inching their way towards me and Golsorkhi. Finally I can make out what they are saying.
“They were working for the Russians, right?”
“Nah baba, they were great minds.”
“What a waste, they were so young and handsome.”
Yes, Golsorkhi was handsome. It was very stupid of the Shah to hold a public trial for a man of such poise, eloquence and naughty bright eyes. Killing him was the beginning of the end for the despot. Golsorkhi's sacrifice hasn't yet become worth it. I wonder where his son lives now. Under the Islamic regime, or has he fled to freedom?
Some laughter. The young women are following a happier trail in this jungle of memorabilia collected from Bay Area Iranians and laid out in a garage-sale format. There’s a poster of the Iranian theater group, Darvag-I almost ask "how much for this one." No one in Tehran calls a frog “darvag” anymore but in the Gilan province they still use this ancient word from the extinct Pahlavi language. “Dar” meaning tree in Pahlavi and “Wag” meaning frog, tree frog. “O darvag, messenger of cloudy days, when will the rains arrive?” asks the beloved Gilani poet Nima Yooshij (1897-1959). Golsorkhi wants to know the same thing. The dry season for freedom in Iran has lasted far too long.
There’s also a photo of the Bay Area Dance troop, Beshkan. Beshkan, the rhythmic snapping of the finger to dance music, the Iranian answer to flamenco’s palmas. Unlike the quaint darvag, Tehranis still use the word beshkan. It is from the Pahlavi root skastan, to break. The same root as for the word shekast, defeat. How Iranian to use the same root word in both joy and sorrow. Why am I thinking of etymology in a gallery, I wonder. A frivolous drift? Improbable, I am in the presence of art, in fact I am immersed in it. More likely I’m trying to tell myself something. Yes of course, a large part of Iran is missing in this collection. A part of us that does not have its roots in Pahlavi.
Some of Taraneh Hemami’s other works are keenly aware of Iran’s Islamic culture, but in this oeuvre she has surrendered the canvas to the Bay Area Iranian community to put on it whatever they have been saving in the attics of their homes and their minds. And no one it seems wishes to acknowledge Islam as part of their clutter of experiences. Well, not as Iranians anyway. The Islam in this exhibit is the Islam of America. A horrific collage, made even more ghastly because it is made up of children’s drawings, remembers a day of tragedy in America. Stick figures fall out as boxy looking airplanes crash into two towers. The word “Sorry,” is scribbled over and over again in clumsy letters. All over this wall of sorrow Iranian and American flags wave in sympathy and solidarity.
I detach myself from the content and look for evidence of talent in the drawings. Most pictures have the airplanes in them, but one of them shows the towers standing by themselves leaning towards each other and touching as though in friendship or love. This was how the world seemed before the towers were destroyed. This student’s drawing reminded me of Michelangelo’s masterpiece, David. Many other Renaissance depictions of the youth show the hero exuberant after his victory over Goliath. Michelangelo’s David however has yet to put the rock in the sling. It takes genius to look for drama in the time before the event, when things could have gone either way.
I wonder what this Iranian-American Michelangelo will paint when he/she grows up to put 9-11 in an adult context. Will the question arise as to why American students were not asked to create a wall of sorrow for the 290 Iranian passengers of the Airbus that was shot down by the USS Vincennes? In what artful way will the cognitive dissonance express itself when this young artist begins to suspect that the event was not an accident but a murder to leave no witnesses to the accepted fact that the Vincennes was in Iranian territorial waters trying to provoke a fight? Swimming inside this volume of art created by Hemami I have experienced the range of emotions from nostalgia, to realization, to amusement, to sadness, horror, irony and now anger and guilt. Though his image is nowhere to be seen, I imagine President Ahmadinejad shouting slogans at me. ‘Where were you when we were dying by the hundreds of thousands? And you call yourself Iranian?” I try to move away but he follows me, Nima and Golsorkhi pleading with him to take it easy on me. “Where were you?” he keeps shouting.
I try to remember where I was when the Iran-Iraq war was at its peak. I flash back to that glass of Merlot by the poolside, the smell of suntan lotion on my shoulders, and women noisily waving me over to their game of nude water polo. The Ayatollahs had promised Iranian youth that if they died in the war, they would get to join me where I was in Santa Rosa, California. Enough young Iranians died to fill seven Santa Rosas, yet I never met any of them.
“Where were you?”
“I was here,” I mumble.
On my way out I see the mom helping her little girl write her name on a black board by the exit. The black board is a symbolic opportunity for Bay Area Iranians to say “We are here.” The little girl is intimidated by all the names written neatly in Persian script.
“You can write your name in English if you want, dear,” says Mom.
Write your name in Persian, I say to the girl in my mind. Then throw that chalk away and pick up a can of spray paint.
There’s another giggle, this one coming from a little girl prancing from display to display. She probably doesn't realize it but she’s making funny faces underneath a picture of an old Newsweek photo of Khomeini. “Iran thumbs her nose at grief,” is the title of this brief work of art. I named it that. The creators of this living exhibit, artist Taraneh Hemami and scholar Persis Karim would have been pleased to see it flicker to life then annihilate itself with the call of a harried mother. “I am here,” said the little girl.
Three older looking women have been inching their way towards me and Golsorkhi. Finally I can make out what they are saying.
“They were working for the Russians, right?”
“Nah baba, they were great minds.”
“What a waste, they were so young and handsome.”
Yes, Golsorkhi was handsome. It was very stupid of the Shah to hold a public trial for a man of such poise, eloquence and naughty bright eyes. Killing him was the beginning of the end for the despot. Golsorkhi's sacrifice hasn't yet become worth it. I wonder where his son lives now. Under the Islamic regime, or has he fled to freedom?
Some laughter. The young women are following a happier trail in this jungle of memorabilia collected from Bay Area Iranians and laid out in a garage-sale format. There’s a poster of the Iranian theater group, Darvag-I almost ask "how much for this one." No one in Tehran calls a frog “darvag” anymore but in the Gilan province they still use this ancient word from the extinct Pahlavi language. “Dar” meaning tree in Pahlavi and “Wag” meaning frog, tree frog. “O darvag, messenger of cloudy days, when will the rains arrive?” asks the beloved Gilani poet Nima Yooshij (1897-1959). Golsorkhi wants to know the same thing. The dry season for freedom in Iran has lasted far too long.
There’s also a photo of the Bay Area Dance troop, Beshkan. Beshkan, the rhythmic snapping of the finger to dance music, the Iranian answer to flamenco’s palmas. Unlike the quaint darvag, Tehranis still use the word beshkan. It is from the Pahlavi root skastan, to break. The same root as for the word shekast, defeat. How Iranian to use the same root word in both joy and sorrow. Why am I thinking of etymology in a gallery, I wonder. A frivolous drift? Improbable, I am in the presence of art, in fact I am immersed in it. More likely I’m trying to tell myself something. Yes of course, a large part of Iran is missing in this collection. A part of us that does not have its roots in Pahlavi.
Some of Taraneh Hemami’s other works are keenly aware of Iran’s Islamic culture, but in this oeuvre she has surrendered the canvas to the Bay Area Iranian community to put on it whatever they have been saving in the attics of their homes and their minds. And no one it seems wishes to acknowledge Islam as part of their clutter of experiences. Well, not as Iranians anyway. The Islam in this exhibit is the Islam of America. A horrific collage, made even more ghastly because it is made up of children’s drawings, remembers a day of tragedy in America. Stick figures fall out as boxy looking airplanes crash into two towers. The word “Sorry,” is scribbled over and over again in clumsy letters. All over this wall of sorrow Iranian and American flags wave in sympathy and solidarity.
I detach myself from the content and look for evidence of talent in the drawings. Most pictures have the airplanes in them, but one of them shows the towers standing by themselves leaning towards each other and touching as though in friendship or love. This was how the world seemed before the towers were destroyed. This student’s drawing reminded me of Michelangelo’s masterpiece, David. Many other Renaissance depictions of the youth show the hero exuberant after his victory over Goliath. Michelangelo’s David however has yet to put the rock in the sling. It takes genius to look for drama in the time before the event, when things could have gone either way.
I wonder what this Iranian-American Michelangelo will paint when he/she grows up to put 9-11 in an adult context. Will the question arise as to why American students were not asked to create a wall of sorrow for the 290 Iranian passengers of the Airbus that was shot down by the USS Vincennes? In what artful way will the cognitive dissonance express itself when this young artist begins to suspect that the event was not an accident but a murder to leave no witnesses to the accepted fact that the Vincennes was in Iranian territorial waters trying to provoke a fight? Swimming inside this volume of art created by Hemami I have experienced the range of emotions from nostalgia, to realization, to amusement, to sadness, horror, irony and now anger and guilt. Though his image is nowhere to be seen, I imagine President Ahmadinejad shouting slogans at me. ‘Where were you when we were dying by the hundreds of thousands? And you call yourself Iranian?” I try to move away but he follows me, Nima and Golsorkhi pleading with him to take it easy on me. “Where were you?” he keeps shouting.
I try to remember where I was when the Iran-Iraq war was at its peak. I flash back to that glass of Merlot by the poolside, the smell of suntan lotion on my shoulders, and women noisily waving me over to their game of nude water polo. The Ayatollahs had promised Iranian youth that if they died in the war, they would get to join me where I was in Santa Rosa, California. Enough young Iranians died to fill seven Santa Rosas, yet I never met any of them.
“Where were you?”
“I was here,” I mumble.
On my way out I see the mom helping her little girl write her name on a black board by the exit. The black board is a symbolic opportunity for Bay Area Iranians to say “We are here.” The little girl is intimidated by all the names written neatly in Persian script.
“You can write your name in English if you want, dear,” says Mom.
Write your name in Persian, I say to the girl in my mind. Then throw that chalk away and pick up a can of spray paint.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Islam and the da Vinci code craze
The Christian displeasure over the premise that Jesus was an ordinary mortal reminded me at first of the annoyance we Muslims felt when newspapers published derogatory cartoons of the prophet Mohammad. Yet after careful scrutiny The da Vinci Code can be seen as a deeply religious attempt to actually salvage Christianity. Americans who can no longer maintain their Christian faith while immersed in a scientific culture, showed with mega-dollar enthusiasm that they delight in the intimation that we don’t need miracles to have faith. In celebrating such an idea secular fans of The da Vinci Code have reached an essentially Islamic viewpoint.
Muslims have been saying for centuries that their prophet was just a man. He was born of the union of a man and a woman. He married, had children, got sick, and died. Yet even though Mohammad didn’t walk on water or raise the dead he inspired a major religion equal in spiritual energy to any other.
In proposing a miracle-free version of Christianity The da Vinci Code brings to mind the same challenges we Muslims faced early in our history. Fourteen hundred years ago Islam pried our psyches away from belief in miracles. Even then some new Moslems immediately grabbed onto a surrogate: the belief that the bloodline of the Prophet is special. The da Vinci Code offers the same shelter to a Christianity orphaned by modern rationalism. The allure of Code is the thrill of discovering that Jesus may have left descendents, and that they may still be among us. Shiite Muslims understand this sentiment well. Even though Mohammad was mortal, Shiites believe he and his descendents are unique in a way that you and I aren’t. Muslim Sunnis on the other hand scratch their heads at the thought that God would play favorites with bloodlines. I was raised Shiite, but I can appreciate the Sunni insistence that God looks upon all of us as equals. Yet the popularity of Code demonstrates that the Shiite point of view also has a powerful aesthetic rightness.
To illustrate, the late Harvard scholar, Stephen Jay Gould, relates the story of the Spirit of St. Louis display at the Smithsonian. A scale model of the historic airplane was to be placed low enough it could be touched. When the advocacy group for the visually impaired was contacted for feedback, they commented that the model should be placed underneath and as close to the original as possible. In this anecdote Gould observes how essential it is for humans to feel the presence of the real thing even if we have no way of ascertaining that presence. The Shiite claim that genetic proximity to the Prophet’s blood is meaningful expresses the universal human preference for touch over abstractions. The idea that there are special people among us who physically carry Jesus’ blood will have mass appeal in the Christian West. The biological resurrection of Jesus is a message of hope for many who are culturally Christian, but whose rational minds can no longer accommodate a religion of miracles.
The parallel between Islam’s Shiism and The da Vinci Code version of Christianity extends to the emphasis on the female as a divine vessel . In The da Vinci Code Mary Magdalene is this vessel, the Holy Grail. The heroine of the story is her direct modern day descendant. In Shiism the lineage of Mohammad is carried through his daughter Fatemeh. The wife of the first Shiite Imam, Ali, and the female ancestor of all subsequent imams. Fatemeh is described in these terms by Ayatollah Khomeini: “Fatemeh is the full truth of humanity. She is a being from the realm of the angels that has appeared in the shape of a human with the face of a woman.” Of course Islam and The da Vinci Code part ways as to how to honor the female connection with the divine. In Islam the tendency has been to venerate through extreme segregation, whereas The da Vinci Code continues the modern Western penchant to venerate through extreme sexuality.
Are there historical lessons from Shiism that modern “da Vinci Code Christians” could learn from? Yes, we Shiites were ultimately unable to accept a miracle-free spiritual diet. Many of us still wait for our last Imam to reappear like a messiah to reestablish justice in the world. So if you are culturally Christian and were fascinated by the book or the movie, whether Jesus was God or mortal is ultimately irrelevant to your experience. If you were drawn in by a sense of deep mystery over Jesus’ biological descendents, then The da Vinci Code has succeeded in putting religion back into you.
Muslims have been saying for centuries that their prophet was just a man. He was born of the union of a man and a woman. He married, had children, got sick, and died. Yet even though Mohammad didn’t walk on water or raise the dead he inspired a major religion equal in spiritual energy to any other.
In proposing a miracle-free version of Christianity The da Vinci Code brings to mind the same challenges we Muslims faced early in our history. Fourteen hundred years ago Islam pried our psyches away from belief in miracles. Even then some new Moslems immediately grabbed onto a surrogate: the belief that the bloodline of the Prophet is special. The da Vinci Code offers the same shelter to a Christianity orphaned by modern rationalism. The allure of Code is the thrill of discovering that Jesus may have left descendents, and that they may still be among us. Shiite Muslims understand this sentiment well. Even though Mohammad was mortal, Shiites believe he and his descendents are unique in a way that you and I aren’t. Muslim Sunnis on the other hand scratch their heads at the thought that God would play favorites with bloodlines. I was raised Shiite, but I can appreciate the Sunni insistence that God looks upon all of us as equals. Yet the popularity of Code demonstrates that the Shiite point of view also has a powerful aesthetic rightness.
To illustrate, the late Harvard scholar, Stephen Jay Gould, relates the story of the Spirit of St. Louis display at the Smithsonian. A scale model of the historic airplane was to be placed low enough it could be touched. When the advocacy group for the visually impaired was contacted for feedback, they commented that the model should be placed underneath and as close to the original as possible. In this anecdote Gould observes how essential it is for humans to feel the presence of the real thing even if we have no way of ascertaining that presence. The Shiite claim that genetic proximity to the Prophet’s blood is meaningful expresses the universal human preference for touch over abstractions. The idea that there are special people among us who physically carry Jesus’ blood will have mass appeal in the Christian West. The biological resurrection of Jesus is a message of hope for many who are culturally Christian, but whose rational minds can no longer accommodate a religion of miracles.
The parallel between Islam’s Shiism and The da Vinci Code version of Christianity extends to the emphasis on the female as a divine vessel . In The da Vinci Code Mary Magdalene is this vessel, the Holy Grail. The heroine of the story is her direct modern day descendant. In Shiism the lineage of Mohammad is carried through his daughter Fatemeh. The wife of the first Shiite Imam, Ali, and the female ancestor of all subsequent imams. Fatemeh is described in these terms by Ayatollah Khomeini: “Fatemeh is the full truth of humanity. She is a being from the realm of the angels that has appeared in the shape of a human with the face of a woman.” Of course Islam and The da Vinci Code part ways as to how to honor the female connection with the divine. In Islam the tendency has been to venerate through extreme segregation, whereas The da Vinci Code continues the modern Western penchant to venerate through extreme sexuality.
Are there historical lessons from Shiism that modern “da Vinci Code Christians” could learn from? Yes, we Shiites were ultimately unable to accept a miracle-free spiritual diet. Many of us still wait for our last Imam to reappear like a messiah to reestablish justice in the world. So if you are culturally Christian and were fascinated by the book or the movie, whether Jesus was God or mortal is ultimately irrelevant to your experience. If you were drawn in by a sense of deep mystery over Jesus’ biological descendents, then The da Vinci Code has succeeded in putting religion back into you.
Friday, May 19, 2006
The Prisoner
Decades after the British television series “The Prisoner” has aired its last episode, Ramin Jahanbegloo, Iranian political philosopher, now Iranian political prisoner, is in the same surreal predicament as the BBC protagonist. As Jahanbegloo sits in Tehran’s Tehin prison, he is probably asking himself, who are they? why are they keeping me here? And what do they want from me? The difference is that in the BBC series the hero, "Number Six," really was a secret agent, whereas Jahanbegloo is simply accused of spying for Western powers.
Our man Jahanbegloo is not in Her Majesty’s Secret Service or in the CIA or a member of the Mission Impossible Team. He is a member of a private cultural research department in Tehran. For the suspicious Iranian reader, this job has no similarities to the embassy cultural attaché post which we usually suspect of being a cover for spies. The Cultural Research Bureau, where Jahanbegloo works, figures out how to encourage volunteerism in urban areas, or how to increase the number of cinemas in Iran. The agency contracts to provide statistics and demography, does youth studies, explores drug related social issues, and such. It is also a think tank for foreign relations. For instance this group translated into Persian Samuel Huntington’s The Clash of Civilization and the New World Order (where it is argued that the future global conflicts will occur along the fault lines separating civilizations such as Islam and the West).
Of course you can’t do all this without possessing formidable scholarship, intelligence and insight. Number Six was never a post-doc at Harvard like Jahanbegloo, but it was still a thrill to watch his intelligence and insight pitted against the nightmarish mind-control technology of his mysterious captors. He always outmaneuvered his nemesis, "Number Two," in witty dialogue and brisk action. Yet episode after episode he would wake up in the same prison village, and try to figure out all over again, who or perhaps what was "Number One," which ideology governed the villagers, and where on the map was this place anyway? Puzzles that intellectuals have been trying to figure out about post-revolutionary Iran for more than two decades.
Jahanbegloo was perhaps too intellectual as a youth to have watched spy movies on TV. His metaphor for his present predicament comes from his reflections on a Bertolucci film:
This retreat of intellectuals in the Middle East reminds me of Bertolucci’s film, The Conformist. I could not get this picture out of my mind for a long time. I did not immediately understand it. [I] was constantly reflecting on what in fact was happening. What was it that hypnotically bound me to that film? What was the tragedy? What was the hero’s drama? For me The Conformist is an example of the theme of “the intellectual and power”. The intellectual opts to compromise with power because of the force of circumstances and becomes a conformist figure. This state of affairs is wrapped in tragedy for the intellectual; he/she is sacrificed, whereas the conquering side is power. On one hand, the intellectual cannot avoid power in one form or another, but on the other hand, he/she cannot subjugate himself/herself to it, as those who hold power would desire. It seems to me that the problem here is that of the conflict between the spirit and power.
To riddle the mystery of his captivity Jahanbegloo has gone where Number Six never thought to look. The conflict between spirit and power.
Our man Jahanbegloo is not in Her Majesty’s Secret Service or in the CIA or a member of the Mission Impossible Team. He is a member of a private cultural research department in Tehran. For the suspicious Iranian reader, this job has no similarities to the embassy cultural attaché post which we usually suspect of being a cover for spies. The Cultural Research Bureau, where Jahanbegloo works, figures out how to encourage volunteerism in urban areas, or how to increase the number of cinemas in Iran. The agency contracts to provide statistics and demography, does youth studies, explores drug related social issues, and such. It is also a think tank for foreign relations. For instance this group translated into Persian Samuel Huntington’s The Clash of Civilization and the New World Order (where it is argued that the future global conflicts will occur along the fault lines separating civilizations such as Islam and the West).
Of course you can’t do all this without possessing formidable scholarship, intelligence and insight. Number Six was never a post-doc at Harvard like Jahanbegloo, but it was still a thrill to watch his intelligence and insight pitted against the nightmarish mind-control technology of his mysterious captors. He always outmaneuvered his nemesis, "Number Two," in witty dialogue and brisk action. Yet episode after episode he would wake up in the same prison village, and try to figure out all over again, who or perhaps what was "Number One," which ideology governed the villagers, and where on the map was this place anyway? Puzzles that intellectuals have been trying to figure out about post-revolutionary Iran for more than two decades.
Jahanbegloo was perhaps too intellectual as a youth to have watched spy movies on TV. His metaphor for his present predicament comes from his reflections on a Bertolucci film:
This retreat of intellectuals in the Middle East reminds me of Bertolucci’s film, The Conformist. I could not get this picture out of my mind for a long time. I did not immediately understand it. [I] was constantly reflecting on what in fact was happening. What was it that hypnotically bound me to that film? What was the tragedy? What was the hero’s drama? For me The Conformist is an example of the theme of “the intellectual and power”. The intellectual opts to compromise with power because of the force of circumstances and becomes a conformist figure. This state of affairs is wrapped in tragedy for the intellectual; he/she is sacrificed, whereas the conquering side is power. On one hand, the intellectual cannot avoid power in one form or another, but on the other hand, he/she cannot subjugate himself/herself to it, as those who hold power would desire. It seems to me that the problem here is that of the conflict between the spirit and power.
To riddle the mystery of his captivity Jahanbegloo has gone where Number Six never thought to look. The conflict between spirit and power.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
United 93
Directed by Paul Greengrass
Along with the strong documentary feel--the hand held camera, the annoying passersby that block the view--there is an eerie absence of editorializing in this movie. The film plays like a security video of a 7-11 murder, with the effect that the viewer doesn’t have the comfort of knowing this is someone else’s point of view. Director Paul Greengrass knows that messages and morals would only dilute the brutal realism of his work. Through the innovative use of detachment, Greengrass has solved the problem of keeping the events of 9-11 perpetually fresh in the American psyche. Grandstanders and warmongers can now continue with their work, their zeal undiminished, their material replenished.
The information in the plane’s flight data recorder has not been made available to the public, so we don’t know why this passenger plane, hijacked by terrorists on 9-11, crashed before it reached its target. The film’s storyline follows the popular theory that the passengers mutinied against their captors and brought the plane down. But in keeping with its policy of objective reporting, the film makes no attempt to create heroes out of the passengers. Even the famous line, “Let’s roll,” which I had imagined as a heroic battle cry just before the passengers stormed the cockpit, was delivered in a huddled hush by one of the mutineers. The line was whispered so softly, I wondered how Greengrass expects us to believe that a telephone was able to accidentally pick it up.
There is also no attempt to make villains out of the terrorists beyond the obvious destructiveness of their act. They are guerrillas on a mission, improvising as the field conditions dictate. Not making villains out of the terrorists has the effect of closing the door to rebuttal. An apologist can’t argue that the terrorists are just doing what we would do under similar circumstances. The movie doesn't allow the debate to go there. “Of course they are like us,” the film seems to declare,” but things have gone beyond negotiation, understanding, or figuring out who is right and who is wrong. What we must do to protect ourselves has nothing to do with who’s the bad guy here.” This frightneningly pragmatic point of view should alarm even our friends. Once the world finds out we have disengaged from the moral debate, once it knows we would fumigate or vaporize other people out of existence while fully recognizing their humanity, it will look upon us as a global Macbeth in need of curtailment.
The movie's suspense begins when the terrorists make a mistake by failing to monitor passengers on telephones. Once everyone learns over the air-phones that the plane is on a suicide mission, the four terrorists lose control of the crowd. The passengers conspire against their captors and even begin to improvise weapons out of heavy luggage and boiling water.
Here, the greatest irony of United 93 comes out. The airplane itself is an improvised weapon. Despite all Greengrass' efforts towards gut-level rawness, the astute viewer will pause for introspection and wonder what desperate thoughts prompted the terrorists to improvise this weapon. Did they believe they were passengers in a world that was being piloted on a suicide mission by Western excess? Was the World Trade Center a metaphorical cockpit being stormed by desperate global passengers?
I would guess that this irony was unintentional, but intention is not the substance of art. Like an embarrassing child, art speaks her own mind, heedless of what her red-faced parents told her not to say. On a less artistic level there is an allegory which probably is intended. Since in this version of the story the passengers of flight 93 crashed the plane before it could destroy the Capitol building, their action may be considered pre-emptive. The invasion of Iraq was said to be pre-emptive, and now the possible invasion of Iran is also being touted as pre-emptive. United 93 suggests that in the long run such an attack would be worth the sacrifice of a few American lives.
Besides unintended irony, this work of art also has unintended lessons. The most important lesson questions why Islamic and Western civilizations have to clash in the first place. For example, the movie opens with the most moving recitation of the Koran I have ever heard. This is because the calming and yet deeply emotional quality of the words were enhanced by a soothing sustenato of strings in the background. Musical instruments are forbidden in Koran recitations, and if someone wanted to make a fuss about it, this fusion of violins and Koran could fuel street demonstrations. There was no protest because the innovation was not intended to offend, but to convey to a Western audience the sense of calm that a Koran recitation can bring. Yet even to a Muslim this fusion of cultures was astonishingly artful.
United 93 deviates from the Hollywood airport-movie genre in that the audience knows the story will end in tragedy. But there are those of us who still believe in a happy ending to the Islam vs. West conflict. To help this ship land safely we will create and support art and literature that intermingles the sublime aspects of these two cultures, rather than catalogue and memorialize the atrocities we have each committed. We happy-ending fans recommend the audience walk out on United 93 after enjoying the first scene with the amazing aria 'sung' in Koranic lilt.
Along with the strong documentary feel--the hand held camera, the annoying passersby that block the view--there is an eerie absence of editorializing in this movie. The film plays like a security video of a 7-11 murder, with the effect that the viewer doesn’t have the comfort of knowing this is someone else’s point of view. Director Paul Greengrass knows that messages and morals would only dilute the brutal realism of his work. Through the innovative use of detachment, Greengrass has solved the problem of keeping the events of 9-11 perpetually fresh in the American psyche. Grandstanders and warmongers can now continue with their work, their zeal undiminished, their material replenished.
The information in the plane’s flight data recorder has not been made available to the public, so we don’t know why this passenger plane, hijacked by terrorists on 9-11, crashed before it reached its target. The film’s storyline follows the popular theory that the passengers mutinied against their captors and brought the plane down. But in keeping with its policy of objective reporting, the film makes no attempt to create heroes out of the passengers. Even the famous line, “Let’s roll,” which I had imagined as a heroic battle cry just before the passengers stormed the cockpit, was delivered in a huddled hush by one of the mutineers. The line was whispered so softly, I wondered how Greengrass expects us to believe that a telephone was able to accidentally pick it up.
There is also no attempt to make villains out of the terrorists beyond the obvious destructiveness of their act. They are guerrillas on a mission, improvising as the field conditions dictate. Not making villains out of the terrorists has the effect of closing the door to rebuttal. An apologist can’t argue that the terrorists are just doing what we would do under similar circumstances. The movie doesn't allow the debate to go there. “Of course they are like us,” the film seems to declare,” but things have gone beyond negotiation, understanding, or figuring out who is right and who is wrong. What we must do to protect ourselves has nothing to do with who’s the bad guy here.” This frightneningly pragmatic point of view should alarm even our friends. Once the world finds out we have disengaged from the moral debate, once it knows we would fumigate or vaporize other people out of existence while fully recognizing their humanity, it will look upon us as a global Macbeth in need of curtailment.
The movie's suspense begins when the terrorists make a mistake by failing to monitor passengers on telephones. Once everyone learns over the air-phones that the plane is on a suicide mission, the four terrorists lose control of the crowd. The passengers conspire against their captors and even begin to improvise weapons out of heavy luggage and boiling water.
Here, the greatest irony of United 93 comes out. The airplane itself is an improvised weapon. Despite all Greengrass' efforts towards gut-level rawness, the astute viewer will pause for introspection and wonder what desperate thoughts prompted the terrorists to improvise this weapon. Did they believe they were passengers in a world that was being piloted on a suicide mission by Western excess? Was the World Trade Center a metaphorical cockpit being stormed by desperate global passengers?
I would guess that this irony was unintentional, but intention is not the substance of art. Like an embarrassing child, art speaks her own mind, heedless of what her red-faced parents told her not to say. On a less artistic level there is an allegory which probably is intended. Since in this version of the story the passengers of flight 93 crashed the plane before it could destroy the Capitol building, their action may be considered pre-emptive. The invasion of Iraq was said to be pre-emptive, and now the possible invasion of Iran is also being touted as pre-emptive. United 93 suggests that in the long run such an attack would be worth the sacrifice of a few American lives.
Besides unintended irony, this work of art also has unintended lessons. The most important lesson questions why Islamic and Western civilizations have to clash in the first place. For example, the movie opens with the most moving recitation of the Koran I have ever heard. This is because the calming and yet deeply emotional quality of the words were enhanced by a soothing sustenato of strings in the background. Musical instruments are forbidden in Koran recitations, and if someone wanted to make a fuss about it, this fusion of violins and Koran could fuel street demonstrations. There was no protest because the innovation was not intended to offend, but to convey to a Western audience the sense of calm that a Koran recitation can bring. Yet even to a Muslim this fusion of cultures was astonishingly artful.
United 93 deviates from the Hollywood airport-movie genre in that the audience knows the story will end in tragedy. But there are those of us who still believe in a happy ending to the Islam vs. West conflict. To help this ship land safely we will create and support art and literature that intermingles the sublime aspects of these two cultures, rather than catalogue and memorialize the atrocities we have each committed. We happy-ending fans recommend the audience walk out on United 93 after enjoying the first scene with the amazing aria 'sung' in Koranic lilt.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
How will the Iran nuclear showdown end?
Last month on this website I recommended Iran augment its current hurry-up-and-catch-up research on the obsolete nuclear technologies of the mid twentieth century, and focus on newer reactor designs. These newer reactor designs are being considered by nations who are serious about the use of nuclear energy as an alternative to fossil fuels. The reactors of the future will be far more efficient and safer in the sense that their waste falls to tolerable levels of radioactivity in a few centuries rather than the tens of thousands of years for current reactors.
For a few days last week it seemed the Europeans were offering Iran “the most advanced nuclear technologies available” in return for Iran’s abandoning its uranium enrichment program. Though equivocations began to later appear in the news, if there is the smallest chance that this hint of an offer can be made real, the enterprise would be worth the efforts of any foresighted Iranian administration. Iran has vast hydrocarbon resources, but it is to her economic advantage to export this resource than to burn it for domestic use.
However, abandoning her uranium enrichment program is not an option for Iran. Technological self sufficiency is written into the Iranian constitution. The constitution has as one of its pillars, “The attainment of self-sufficiency in scientific, technological, industrial, agricultural, and military domains, and other similar spheres.” For the Iranians who are still paying the humiliating price of technological backwardness, this article of the constitution is more important than any of the declarations of loyalty to the Islamic way of life. This is why more people in Iran are united behind her nuclear program than support the Islamic regime. Any European offer of technology must respect Iran’s constitution on this point or the deal is off. Any regime interested in staying in power in Iran must respect Iran’s constitution on this point, or its time is up.
The Europeans know this and the Islamic regime knows this. The solution will be to satisfy the self sufficiency clause of Iran’s constitution by simply limiting her uranium enrichment efforts to pure research. This way Iran will not have nuclear strike capability but if by some chance Western security guarantees fail, Iran has the option of producing a weapon as a deterrence.
There is no other logical way this deadlock can be resolved, and if there were no hidden agendas, events would be proceeding in this direction. The fact that the world is still arguing about what to do with Iran has to do with the agenda of the United States to maintain superpower control over the economies of developing countries. However, the military failure of the United States in Iraq, the waning of manufacturing in this country, and the slow erosion of faith in the legitimacy of America as a global financial authority are likely to make the US agenda less and less important to the rest of the world. Once the global perception of US power is on a par with reality, the Iran nuclear issue will be resolved peacefully and logically.
For a few days last week it seemed the Europeans were offering Iran “the most advanced nuclear technologies available” in return for Iran’s abandoning its uranium enrichment program. Though equivocations began to later appear in the news, if there is the smallest chance that this hint of an offer can be made real, the enterprise would be worth the efforts of any foresighted Iranian administration. Iran has vast hydrocarbon resources, but it is to her economic advantage to export this resource than to burn it for domestic use.
However, abandoning her uranium enrichment program is not an option for Iran. Technological self sufficiency is written into the Iranian constitution. The constitution has as one of its pillars, “The attainment of self-sufficiency in scientific, technological, industrial, agricultural, and military domains, and other similar spheres.” For the Iranians who are still paying the humiliating price of technological backwardness, this article of the constitution is more important than any of the declarations of loyalty to the Islamic way of life. This is why more people in Iran are united behind her nuclear program than support the Islamic regime. Any European offer of technology must respect Iran’s constitution on this point or the deal is off. Any regime interested in staying in power in Iran must respect Iran’s constitution on this point, or its time is up.
The Europeans know this and the Islamic regime knows this. The solution will be to satisfy the self sufficiency clause of Iran’s constitution by simply limiting her uranium enrichment efforts to pure research. This way Iran will not have nuclear strike capability but if by some chance Western security guarantees fail, Iran has the option of producing a weapon as a deterrence.
There is no other logical way this deadlock can be resolved, and if there were no hidden agendas, events would be proceeding in this direction. The fact that the world is still arguing about what to do with Iran has to do with the agenda of the United States to maintain superpower control over the economies of developing countries. However, the military failure of the United States in Iraq, the waning of manufacturing in this country, and the slow erosion of faith in the legitimacy of America as a global financial authority are likely to make the US agenda less and less important to the rest of the world. Once the global perception of US power is on a par with reality, the Iran nuclear issue will be resolved peacefully and logically.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Hafez at Stanford
The hot-headed outbursts that Iran’s leaders hope CNN will carry to a worldwide audience are often attempts to direct US foreign policy towards a more informed approach in the region. Last night, however, a group of Iranian-Americans held a joyful event at the Stanford Faculty Club that will one day dwarf the gesticulations of Iran’s leaders in its impact on US foreign as well as domestic policy. Here too there were cameras but this time operated by amateurs--proud parents of scholarship awardees videotaping their children. As a parade of high achieving Iranian college students spoke their zeal and drive into the microphone, it became more and more obvious that these young scholars will soon join the ranks of American decision makers. These Iranians will earn their influence on America by contributing to her civilization.
And when they do become Surgeons General, Supreme Court judges, Cabinet members, senators, and CEOs of corporations with clout, they will take with them their love for the culture that gave the world Hafez and Khayyam. This is real human history, not the manufactured kind that comes in dramatic events. The influence accumulated is the slow result of dedicated work by foresighted people. And the price is not billions of dollars spent on weapons of deterrence, or the moral cost of supporting violent groups to maintain leverage on the US. In comparison the price is insignificant. The Iranian Scholarship Fund is the smartest money Iranians have ever invested in the advancement of their culture. And the moral factor is a huge payoff, not a cost.
As with most fundraiser galas the speakers were often drowned out by the sound of forks on plates and sociable party chatter. Hafez, however ran chills up our spines when he spoke through one of the students reciting a verse. Characteristically, it wasn’t what Hafez said that gave us that famous Hafez moment; it was how he uses sound to reveal meaning. The master let it be known last night that his words shine with fresh beauty when spoken in a slightly Americanized Persian accent.
And when they do become Surgeons General, Supreme Court judges, Cabinet members, senators, and CEOs of corporations with clout, they will take with them their love for the culture that gave the world Hafez and Khayyam. This is real human history, not the manufactured kind that comes in dramatic events. The influence accumulated is the slow result of dedicated work by foresighted people. And the price is not billions of dollars spent on weapons of deterrence, or the moral cost of supporting violent groups to maintain leverage on the US. In comparison the price is insignificant. The Iranian Scholarship Fund is the smartest money Iranians have ever invested in the advancement of their culture. And the moral factor is a huge payoff, not a cost.
As with most fundraiser galas the speakers were often drowned out by the sound of forks on plates and sociable party chatter. Hafez, however ran chills up our spines when he spoke through one of the students reciting a verse. Characteristically, it wasn’t what Hafez said that gave us that famous Hafez moment; it was how he uses sound to reveal meaning. The master let it be known last night that his words shine with fresh beauty when spoken in a slightly Americanized Persian accent.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Iran's lesson for Nepal
The protests against king Gyanendra of Nepal are reminiscent of the 1979 protests in Iran when Iranians of all political persuasions banded together to oust the Shah. The powerful Islamic faction led by Ayatollah Khomeini promised that once the Shah was gone political power would be shared democratically. Today in Nepal the powerful Maoist faction is making similar promises. The Ayatollah didn't keep his promise and it is unlikely that the Maoists will either. Like the Iranian intellectuals in 1979, The Nepalese intellectuals are fooling themselves if they think they are leading this revolt; they are simply useful at the moment and will be discarded once the palace has fallen.
With Iran's lesson in mind, is there anything the pro-democracy Nepalese intellectuals can do to avoid the fate of their Iranian counterparts? Yes, they should stay focused on their goal of achieving democracy and dismantle the throne one piece at a time. If they indulge their emotions--and in the midst of batons, riots, and teargas it is easy to do--and take the monarchy off the board, they will have removed an important chess piece in their upcoming power game with the Maoist's.
There's nothing wrong with Maoism or Islam that can't also go wrong with a democracy, so I am not attached to any particular outcome. But the way things are going in Nepal, I don't see democracy in her future, I see Maoism.
With Iran's lesson in mind, is there anything the pro-democracy Nepalese intellectuals can do to avoid the fate of their Iranian counterparts? Yes, they should stay focused on their goal of achieving democracy and dismantle the throne one piece at a time. If they indulge their emotions--and in the midst of batons, riots, and teargas it is easy to do--and take the monarchy off the board, they will have removed an important chess piece in their upcoming power game with the Maoist's.
There's nothing wrong with Maoism or Islam that can't also go wrong with a democracy, so I am not attached to any particular outcome. But the way things are going in Nepal, I don't see democracy in her future, I see Maoism.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Zacarias Moussaoui’s testimony an act of terrorism.
“You wake up everyday to destroy America don’t you?”
“To the best of my ability.” Moussaoui asserted.
Judge and jury listened stoically to the prosecutor’s exchange with the terror suspect. Like Vulcans on Star Trek, emotion was not allowed to interfere with rational judgment. When Moussaoui declared that his only regret is that more Americans weren’t killed during 9-11, equanimity ruled the courtroom. When he taunted the grieving families of 9-11 victims, reporters noted his comments with professional detachment. What does Moussaoui, who has been declared sane, have to gain by such callousness? The answer is that he doesn’t see America as we like to see her, an admirable civilization ruled by law and rationality. He believes in an America that will respond to his inhuman remarks by bringing death upon thousands of innocent people in the Middle East. In the blood feud which will follow, Western civilization will be harmed. Moussaoui did not participate in the 9-11 acts of terror, his mission was carried out in that courtroom. His weapon: the mass media.
We watch in horror as chat rooms fill with contempt for Islam, and talk shows ring louder with shrill cries to war. Emails are in circulation declaring that Muslim-American is an oxymoron. The number of people I personally know who believe that Iranian cities should be nuked is growing. It doesn't matter that virtually all Iranians favor mutually respectful relations with the United States. A part of America sanctions the extermination of Islam because to them Moussaoui speaks for all Muslims. Yet these Americans are themselves terror victims and don't even know it. They must be extricated from the anger the Moussaoui trial has made them feel. Pastors, priests, rabbis, teachers, therapists, these victims need your help.
Western Muslims must also act. We should not allow worldwide Jihad to become a fait-accompli. Once the issue is handed to us in a polarized us-or-them format, it will be impossible to refuse. We would be faced either with fighting for extremist causes or suffering the humiliation of surrendering all our legitimate positions. Here is a situation where being moderate means speaking up. I welcome your comments on this site as to ways Muslims living in the West can help control the damage of the Moussaoui trial.
“To the best of my ability.” Moussaoui asserted.
Judge and jury listened stoically to the prosecutor’s exchange with the terror suspect. Like Vulcans on Star Trek, emotion was not allowed to interfere with rational judgment. When Moussaoui declared that his only regret is that more Americans weren’t killed during 9-11, equanimity ruled the courtroom. When he taunted the grieving families of 9-11 victims, reporters noted his comments with professional detachment. What does Moussaoui, who has been declared sane, have to gain by such callousness? The answer is that he doesn’t see America as we like to see her, an admirable civilization ruled by law and rationality. He believes in an America that will respond to his inhuman remarks by bringing death upon thousands of innocent people in the Middle East. In the blood feud which will follow, Western civilization will be harmed. Moussaoui did not participate in the 9-11 acts of terror, his mission was carried out in that courtroom. His weapon: the mass media.
We watch in horror as chat rooms fill with contempt for Islam, and talk shows ring louder with shrill cries to war. Emails are in circulation declaring that Muslim-American is an oxymoron. The number of people I personally know who believe that Iranian cities should be nuked is growing. It doesn't matter that virtually all Iranians favor mutually respectful relations with the United States. A part of America sanctions the extermination of Islam because to them Moussaoui speaks for all Muslims. Yet these Americans are themselves terror victims and don't even know it. They must be extricated from the anger the Moussaoui trial has made them feel. Pastors, priests, rabbis, teachers, therapists, these victims need your help.
Western Muslims must also act. We should not allow worldwide Jihad to become a fait-accompli. Once the issue is handed to us in a polarized us-or-them format, it will be impossible to refuse. We would be faced either with fighting for extremist causes or suffering the humiliation of surrendering all our legitimate positions. Here is a situation where being moderate means speaking up. I welcome your comments on this site as to ways Muslims living in the West can help control the damage of the Moussaoui trial.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Constitutional method to Iranian President’s madness
President Ahmadinejad of Iran had lashed out again at Israel, and an American colleague at the office was demanding an explanation from me. “You wrote a book on Iran, you explain this to me,” he said slapping the morning paper down on my desk. If he was angry enough to break the American taboo against talking politics at work, he was angry enough to misconstrue any explanation as an excuse. So I used the trick America uses when politics threatens to disturb her peace: appeal to the constitution. The Iranian constitution in this case.
“You see,” I began nervously. “President Ahmadinejad can’t try to wipe Israel or any other nation off the map because, unlike the president of the United States, he is not the commander in chief of his country’s armed forces.”
We went on the internet on company time, where I showed my skeptical friend that the constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran gives meager power to the president. Here is the scope of Ahmadinejad’s powers as written in that document :
After obtaining the approval of the Islamic Consultative Assembly, the President has the authority to sign treaties, protocols, contracts, and agreements concluded by the Iranian government with other governments, as well as agreements pertaining to international organizations. The President is responsible for national planning , budget, and state employment affairs.
“He used to be the mayor of Tehran,” I argued. “Now he is the mayor of the whole country with a few international bells and whistles added. ”
To show my colleague where the real power lies, I scrolled down to where Iran’s constitution spells out the duties of the highest ranking cleric, the Supreme Leader. His duties include:
1. Assuming supreme command of the armed forces.
2. Declaration of war and peace, and the mobilization of the armed forces.
“So only the Supreme Leader can credibly threaten to wipe Israel off the map. And he’s been quiet,” I said.
We could hear the boss’s voice across the cubicles, so we lowered our voices as we went on to where it says The supreme leader is responsible for:
Dismissal of the' President of the Republic, with due regard for the interests of the country…
“The Supreme Leader can fire Ahamadinejad’s butt?” my friend realized in hushed tones. Right! In Iran certain duly elected mistakes can be undone without an impeachment process. But why is the Supreme Leader allowed to thumb his nose at We The People? Because, according to Iran’s constitution, he is sitting in for the Messiah. The exact words of the constitution translated into simple English are this:
During the temporary absence of the Messiah, may God hasten his reappearance, the guardianship and leadership of the public are passed to the just and pious jurist, who is fully aware of the circumstances of his age; courageous, resourceful, and possessed of administrative ability, [he] will assume the responsibilities of this office…
The messiah language also sheds light on Ahamadinejad's claim to divine inspiration. I was about to theorize as to how, when the boss walked in on us. Scrambling to close the web page would have acknowledged more authority to him than I was prepared to yield. Ignoring him would have been rude, so I just included him in the conversation. Turns out he too had freaked when he found out Iran's president had an aura around him during a U.N. speech. But this politician's claim to having a halo wasn't so much messianic radicalism as internal jockeying for power. Now that Ahmadinejad has a halo, every Iranian knows the Supreme Leader isn't the only one who is golf buddies with the Messiah. Constitutional checks and balance, Iranian style.
By the time my presentation on Iran’s constitution got to the country’s nuclear standoff with the West, a few people had gathered. I estimated that at their rate of pay the company was losing quite a bit of money, not including the number of widgets that weren’t being made. Iran’s constitution has something important to say about widgets, including atomic ones. The document mandates:
The attainment of self-sufficiency in scientific, technological, industrial, agricultural, and military domains, and other similar spheres...
This is why Iran has to have its own uranium enrichment industry. Nuclear self sufficiency is in the constitution, and Ahmadinejad couldn’t do anything about that even if he wanted to.
Later in a more somber discussion my American colleague and I sorted out how Iran’s constitution weighs in on Ahmadinejad’s denial of the Holocaust. Here’s a relevant excerpt from the document :
… while scrupulously refraining from all forms of interference in the internal affairs of other nations, [Iran] supports the just struggles of the weak and persecuted against the powerful and arrogant in every corner of the globe.
The document borrows the words for “weak and persecuted” and “powerful and arrogant” directly from the Arabic of the Koran where the words are used in the context of the persecution of early Muslims. These terms have strong spiritual and emotional content for Ahmadinejad’s branch of Shiism which divides the world into pure good and pure evil. The Holocaust muddies this clean dualism in that the purportedly powerful and arrogant Zionist Jews are also the weak and persecuted Jews of the Nazi era. By denying the premise of the Holocaust, Ahmadinejad hopes to cast the issue back into its original black and white simplicity.
As with the Constitution of the United States, the Iranian constitution does not determine the specific actions of the nation’s politicians, but it is a reasonable guide in making sense of their overall behavior.
“You see,” I began nervously. “President Ahmadinejad can’t try to wipe Israel or any other nation off the map because, unlike the president of the United States, he is not the commander in chief of his country’s armed forces.”
We went on the internet on company time, where I showed my skeptical friend that the constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran gives meager power to the president. Here is the scope of Ahmadinejad’s powers as written in that document :
After obtaining the approval of the Islamic Consultative Assembly, the President has the authority to sign treaties, protocols, contracts, and agreements concluded by the Iranian government with other governments, as well as agreements pertaining to international organizations. The President is responsible for national planning , budget, and state employment affairs.
“He used to be the mayor of Tehran,” I argued. “Now he is the mayor of the whole country with a few international bells and whistles added. ”
To show my colleague where the real power lies, I scrolled down to where Iran’s constitution spells out the duties of the highest ranking cleric, the Supreme Leader. His duties include:
1. Assuming supreme command of the armed forces.
2. Declaration of war and peace, and the mobilization of the armed forces.
“So only the Supreme Leader can credibly threaten to wipe Israel off the map. And he’s been quiet,” I said.
We could hear the boss’s voice across the cubicles, so we lowered our voices as we went on to where it says The supreme leader is responsible for:
Dismissal of the' President of the Republic, with due regard for the interests of the country…
“The Supreme Leader can fire Ahamadinejad’s butt?” my friend realized in hushed tones. Right! In Iran certain duly elected mistakes can be undone without an impeachment process. But why is the Supreme Leader allowed to thumb his nose at We The People? Because, according to Iran’s constitution, he is sitting in for the Messiah. The exact words of the constitution translated into simple English are this:
During the temporary absence of the Messiah, may God hasten his reappearance, the guardianship and leadership of the public are passed to the just and pious jurist, who is fully aware of the circumstances of his age; courageous, resourceful, and possessed of administrative ability, [he] will assume the responsibilities of this office…
The messiah language also sheds light on Ahamadinejad's claim to divine inspiration. I was about to theorize as to how, when the boss walked in on us. Scrambling to close the web page would have acknowledged more authority to him than I was prepared to yield. Ignoring him would have been rude, so I just included him in the conversation. Turns out he too had freaked when he found out Iran's president had an aura around him during a U.N. speech. But this politician's claim to having a halo wasn't so much messianic radicalism as internal jockeying for power. Now that Ahmadinejad has a halo, every Iranian knows the Supreme Leader isn't the only one who is golf buddies with the Messiah. Constitutional checks and balance, Iranian style.
By the time my presentation on Iran’s constitution got to the country’s nuclear standoff with the West, a few people had gathered. I estimated that at their rate of pay the company was losing quite a bit of money, not including the number of widgets that weren’t being made. Iran’s constitution has something important to say about widgets, including atomic ones. The document mandates:
The attainment of self-sufficiency in scientific, technological, industrial, agricultural, and military domains, and other similar spheres...
This is why Iran has to have its own uranium enrichment industry. Nuclear self sufficiency is in the constitution, and Ahmadinejad couldn’t do anything about that even if he wanted to.
Later in a more somber discussion my American colleague and I sorted out how Iran’s constitution weighs in on Ahmadinejad’s denial of the Holocaust. Here’s a relevant excerpt from the document :
… while scrupulously refraining from all forms of interference in the internal affairs of other nations, [Iran] supports the just struggles of the weak and persecuted against the powerful and arrogant in every corner of the globe.
The document borrows the words for “weak and persecuted” and “powerful and arrogant” directly from the Arabic of the Koran where the words are used in the context of the persecution of early Muslims. These terms have strong spiritual and emotional content for Ahmadinejad’s branch of Shiism which divides the world into pure good and pure evil. The Holocaust muddies this clean dualism in that the purportedly powerful and arrogant Zionist Jews are also the weak and persecuted Jews of the Nazi era. By denying the premise of the Holocaust, Ahmadinejad hopes to cast the issue back into its original black and white simplicity.
As with the Constitution of the United States, the Iranian constitution does not determine the specific actions of the nation’s politicians, but it is a reasonable guide in making sense of their overall behavior.
BBC Persian language interview on Iran nukes
A recent program on the Persian language service of BBC includes comments (in Farsi) by British academic analyst Elahe Mohtasham regarding past attempts by nuclear club members to discourage new memberships. What I found particulary interesting is the resistance France met with during her early attempts to join the nuclear club. To listen to this interview Scroll down to the 12th link on the page where it says Sohbate ahle Nazar.
Last year Ms. Mohtasham accepted an invitation by the Iranian government to visit Isfahan’s nuclear uranium conversion facility. Below is the article she wrote for the Sunday Times last May.
Sunday Times: May 1, 2005 (World News: page 1.21)
Revealed: Iran's nuclear factory
Elahe Mohtasham was given unique access to a plant that brought her face to face with Tehran's nuclear ambitions.
RENOWNED for its towering Emam mosque and magnificent 11th century bridge over the Zayandeh Rud river, the city of Esfahan is a peaceful place, even at the peak of the tourist season. But on the edge of the eastern outskirts is a cluster of modern buildings that has become the focus of growing international friction. Visitors here are few and far between.
Esfahan's Uranium Conversion Facility, one of the most sensitive parts of Iran's nuclear programme, is surrounded by anti-aircraft guns, razor wire and armed soldiers. Although I had seen satellite images, it was not until I arrived with my companion from the Centre for Strategic Studies, which advises President Muhammad Khatami on nuclear, defence and security issues, that I grasped the scale of the plant, built around a hill. The facility was completed in 1998. In March last year it made uranium hexafluoride (UF6) gas for the first time. UF6 is needed to enrich uranium in gas centrifuges in another plant at Natanz, 90 miles to the northeast. It is Iran's recently acquired ability to enrich uranium ‹ which could then be used for either nuclear power or an atomic weapon ‹ that has caused so much tension. Last week I became the first independent western academic analyst to gain access to the building where the UF6 is produced.
My visit was the culmination of a journey that began last September when, as a representative of the International Institute for Strategic Studies in London, I went to several other institutions involved in Iran's nuclear programme. Iranian-born and fluent in Farsi, I accepted an invitation to return independently with the aim of seeing inside the Esfahan plant. This provided a unique opportunity to assess what was happening at the heart of the nuclear programme as officials from Iran, Britain, France and Germany were preparing for talks in London to resolve a looming diplomatic crisis.
What I found was that thoughts of nuclear warheads appear to be far from the minds of the energetic young scientists. However, work at Esfahan has advanced further than published reports suggest.
OUR 250-mile drive from Tehran, the Iranian capital, was hastened by a recently opened motorway and enlivened by dramatic vistas. Once we had passed the holy city of Qom, the sun glinted off rock faces rising sheer from the desert floor. In the valleys, the blue-tiled domes of abandoned mosques winked like tiny jewels.
After an overnight stay in Esfahan, we boarded an official minibus to the plant. Despite the armed patrols, we were waved through the security barrier without any checks ‹ not even a search of our bags. The director of the Esfahan centre greeted us warmly. At 35 years old, he seemed to typify the youth and vitality of his country's nuclear industry. Over tea and pulak, a local sweet, in his office, I explained my hopes for the visit: to obtain answers to technical, political and organisational questions that have perplexed outside observers. He responded eagerly.
Two hours later I was introduced to a group of his scientists. Most were young ‹ about 25 ‹ with a few over 55. Among them were several young women scientists. Although the plant has no formal policy of preventing women from working in radioactive areas, they are generally assigned in practice to posts related to safety and support. Nevertheless, it was pointed out that one of the women was primarily responsible for the development of electrical connections at the UF6 facility at a critical time when it was first being produced. The women scientists I met wore the traditional hijab, as required in any workplace in Iran. But it was fashionably pulled back over their hair and they wore make-up. These were modern women with an outlook to match.
All the scientists spoke in an open and transparent manner, replying to detailed technical questions without any reservations and discussing security and supply lines. They used a large map and a model of the whole site to explain the equipment used for the production of UF6. There was even a film in which several of the scientists with me were proudly shown generating supercooled liquid UF6. Iran is only the ninth country in the world to accomplish the conversion process after the United States, Russia, Britain, France, China, India and Pakistan ‹ all nuclear powers ‹ and Brazil.
At the end I asked how much UF6 had been made at Esfahan. The latest information published by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), whose inspectors visit every three to four weeks, showed that 40-45kg had been produced by last June. "The IAEA has been informed that in October three tonnes of UF6 were made," said one of the scientists. The information was highly significant: it proved that Iran has the capacity to produce UF6 on an industrial scale. Would it be able to make enough to feed 50,000 centrifuges planned for the Natanz enrichment plant, I asked? "Yes," came the reply.
Iran says it would need enriched uranium from 50,000 centrifuges to sustain a domestic nuclear power industry and sell nuclear fuel commercially abroad. It has so far abided by a decision announced in October 2003 to suspend uranium enrichment at Natanz while negotiations over its programme continue with British, French and German officials. But having achieved the capability, it seems highly unlikely from what I heard that Iran will be prepared to give up its nuclear fuel cycle in exchange for the technological or economic benefits being offered.
Europeans and Americans alike fear the capability will be used by Iran to develop atomic weapons. Experts estimate that between 1,500 and 2,000 centrifuges could produce enough highly enriched uranium for one atomic device a year. According to IAEA reports, Iran had 1,140 centrifuge rotors by the spring of last year. By October the number had risen to 1,274. In a television broadcast in Farsi on February 8, Hassan Rohani, the secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, suggested that further progress had been made since. "Last year when we were going through the suspension period, we did not have enough centrifuges," he said. "During the period of one year and several months we built and assembled all the centrifuges we needed." Other experts believe that if Iran decides to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) and make atomic weapons, it would take at least a year for different sections of the centrifuges to be tested and assembled for enrichment. An extra few months would be needed to produce enough UF6 at Esfahan and transfer it to Natanz as the feed material for the enrichment process. For the moment, however, the production lines are idle as talks aimed at preventing Iran from enriching uranium go on.
Over lunch in the refectory ‹ a traditional ghormeh sabzi of lamb, herbs and red beans with rice ‹ the plant director told me sadly of scientists being laid off while there was no work for them to do. "Counselling sessions are being arranged for those in danger of losing their jobs," he said. "Others are taking up offers in the oil industry." Several scientists round the table were determined to stick it out. All appeared convinced that Esfahan would be up and running again soon. "What about the possibility of withdrawal from the NPT?" I asked tentatively, wondering how much the scientists knew about their obligation not to develop nuclear weapons. They were fully aware of the treaty's requirements and of Iran's obligations to the IAEA inspectors, they said. At the same time, they were prepared to accept any decision by their government, including a possible withdrawal from the treaty.
The subject turned to the threat of a military attack on the site. It had been evident from my discussions with Iranian officials and analysts in Tehran that a Sunday Times report in March disclosing Israeli preparations for possible airstrikes on sites such as Esfahan and Natanz had been widely read. The scientists said that although they had standard safety measures to guard against radiation leaks, they did not have protection against a military attack. Analysts believe airstrikes would destabilise the region. Iran would probably withdraw from the NPT and initiate a nuclear weapons programme. "How far would any radioactive material spread in the event of an attack?" I asked. The scientists estimated that an area of more than a mile around the plant would be contaminated. Some workers could escape through underground tunnels leading from sensitive to safe areas, according to one scientist. But the tunnels were small, he added. "Only one or two people could use them at a time."
THE diplomacy of the coming weeks and months could determine whether the dispute between Iran and the countries most suspicious of its intentions ‹ notably Israel and the United States ‹ will escalate to the point of armed conflict. Iran wants to resume uranium enrichment under an IAEA inspection regime that it says would reassure the world. It is also seeking guarantees that other countries will never attack it with nuclear weapons. The British and Germans are trying to secure Iran's agreement to abandon enrichment in return for benefits including a light water reactor for nuclear energy. France may be willing to support limited uranium enrichment ‹ a compromise that at the present time would be unacceptable to America. Should the tangled talks collapse, Europe will come under strong pressure to back the Americans in referring Iran to the United Nations Security Council for possible sanctions. Iran might well start up its enrichment programme again. British diplomats hope that such a polarisation ‹ and the risk of military action that may follow ‹ can be averted by keeping the talks going until Iran's presidential elections on June 17. They believe a pragmatic victor could open the way for an agreement. At Esfahan, the scientists' hope is for a deal that would prevent the dismantling of the Uranium Conversion Facility.
Our lunch resulted in permission for me to see the object of so much attention with my own eyes. In a changing area at the entrance to the facility, I was handed a green protective suit, along with mask and gloves. Tanks and pipes stretched to the ceiling 20ft above. Metal walkways and ladders offered views over the vast room where the UF6 gas is made. It is stored in tanks and could be moved to Natanz if the government defies the concerns of its negotiating partners.
I concluded my discussions with Iranian scientists, diplomats and government officials by pointing out that the worries of western governments could not be ignored. Anxieties associated with a clash of ideologies and civilisations could not be alleviated by objective guarantees or IAEA inspections, I emphasised. Not only would Iran have to demonstrate the transparency of any continuing programme; it would also have to address systematically and conscientiously concerns about Iran's associations with groups classified as terrorists in western Europe and America.
Last year Ms. Mohtasham accepted an invitation by the Iranian government to visit Isfahan’s nuclear uranium conversion facility. Below is the article she wrote for the Sunday Times last May.
Sunday Times: May 1, 2005 (World News: page 1.21)
Revealed: Iran's nuclear factory
Elahe Mohtasham was given unique access to a plant that brought her face to face with Tehran's nuclear ambitions.
RENOWNED for its towering Emam mosque and magnificent 11th century bridge over the Zayandeh Rud river, the city of Esfahan is a peaceful place, even at the peak of the tourist season. But on the edge of the eastern outskirts is a cluster of modern buildings that has become the focus of growing international friction. Visitors here are few and far between.
Esfahan's Uranium Conversion Facility, one of the most sensitive parts of Iran's nuclear programme, is surrounded by anti-aircraft guns, razor wire and armed soldiers. Although I had seen satellite images, it was not until I arrived with my companion from the Centre for Strategic Studies, which advises President Muhammad Khatami on nuclear, defence and security issues, that I grasped the scale of the plant, built around a hill. The facility was completed in 1998. In March last year it made uranium hexafluoride (UF6) gas for the first time. UF6 is needed to enrich uranium in gas centrifuges in another plant at Natanz, 90 miles to the northeast. It is Iran's recently acquired ability to enrich uranium ‹ which could then be used for either nuclear power or an atomic weapon ‹ that has caused so much tension. Last week I became the first independent western academic analyst to gain access to the building where the UF6 is produced.
My visit was the culmination of a journey that began last September when, as a representative of the International Institute for Strategic Studies in London, I went to several other institutions involved in Iran's nuclear programme. Iranian-born and fluent in Farsi, I accepted an invitation to return independently with the aim of seeing inside the Esfahan plant. This provided a unique opportunity to assess what was happening at the heart of the nuclear programme as officials from Iran, Britain, France and Germany were preparing for talks in London to resolve a looming diplomatic crisis.
What I found was that thoughts of nuclear warheads appear to be far from the minds of the energetic young scientists. However, work at Esfahan has advanced further than published reports suggest.
OUR 250-mile drive from Tehran, the Iranian capital, was hastened by a recently opened motorway and enlivened by dramatic vistas. Once we had passed the holy city of Qom, the sun glinted off rock faces rising sheer from the desert floor. In the valleys, the blue-tiled domes of abandoned mosques winked like tiny jewels.
After an overnight stay in Esfahan, we boarded an official minibus to the plant. Despite the armed patrols, we were waved through the security barrier without any checks ‹ not even a search of our bags. The director of the Esfahan centre greeted us warmly. At 35 years old, he seemed to typify the youth and vitality of his country's nuclear industry. Over tea and pulak, a local sweet, in his office, I explained my hopes for the visit: to obtain answers to technical, political and organisational questions that have perplexed outside observers. He responded eagerly.
Two hours later I was introduced to a group of his scientists. Most were young ‹ about 25 ‹ with a few over 55. Among them were several young women scientists. Although the plant has no formal policy of preventing women from working in radioactive areas, they are generally assigned in practice to posts related to safety and support. Nevertheless, it was pointed out that one of the women was primarily responsible for the development of electrical connections at the UF6 facility at a critical time when it was first being produced. The women scientists I met wore the traditional hijab, as required in any workplace in Iran. But it was fashionably pulled back over their hair and they wore make-up. These were modern women with an outlook to match.
All the scientists spoke in an open and transparent manner, replying to detailed technical questions without any reservations and discussing security and supply lines. They used a large map and a model of the whole site to explain the equipment used for the production of UF6. There was even a film in which several of the scientists with me were proudly shown generating supercooled liquid UF6. Iran is only the ninth country in the world to accomplish the conversion process after the United States, Russia, Britain, France, China, India and Pakistan ‹ all nuclear powers ‹ and Brazil.
At the end I asked how much UF6 had been made at Esfahan. The latest information published by the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA), whose inspectors visit every three to four weeks, showed that 40-45kg had been produced by last June. "The IAEA has been informed that in October three tonnes of UF6 were made," said one of the scientists. The information was highly significant: it proved that Iran has the capacity to produce UF6 on an industrial scale. Would it be able to make enough to feed 50,000 centrifuges planned for the Natanz enrichment plant, I asked? "Yes," came the reply.
Iran says it would need enriched uranium from 50,000 centrifuges to sustain a domestic nuclear power industry and sell nuclear fuel commercially abroad. It has so far abided by a decision announced in October 2003 to suspend uranium enrichment at Natanz while negotiations over its programme continue with British, French and German officials. But having achieved the capability, it seems highly unlikely from what I heard that Iran will be prepared to give up its nuclear fuel cycle in exchange for the technological or economic benefits being offered.
Europeans and Americans alike fear the capability will be used by Iran to develop atomic weapons. Experts estimate that between 1,500 and 2,000 centrifuges could produce enough highly enriched uranium for one atomic device a year. According to IAEA reports, Iran had 1,140 centrifuge rotors by the spring of last year. By October the number had risen to 1,274. In a television broadcast in Farsi on February 8, Hassan Rohani, the secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, suggested that further progress had been made since. "Last year when we were going through the suspension period, we did not have enough centrifuges," he said. "During the period of one year and several months we built and assembled all the centrifuges we needed." Other experts believe that if Iran decides to withdraw from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) and make atomic weapons, it would take at least a year for different sections of the centrifuges to be tested and assembled for enrichment. An extra few months would be needed to produce enough UF6 at Esfahan and transfer it to Natanz as the feed material for the enrichment process. For the moment, however, the production lines are idle as talks aimed at preventing Iran from enriching uranium go on.
Over lunch in the refectory ‹ a traditional ghormeh sabzi of lamb, herbs and red beans with rice ‹ the plant director told me sadly of scientists being laid off while there was no work for them to do. "Counselling sessions are being arranged for those in danger of losing their jobs," he said. "Others are taking up offers in the oil industry." Several scientists round the table were determined to stick it out. All appeared convinced that Esfahan would be up and running again soon. "What about the possibility of withdrawal from the NPT?" I asked tentatively, wondering how much the scientists knew about their obligation not to develop nuclear weapons. They were fully aware of the treaty's requirements and of Iran's obligations to the IAEA inspectors, they said. At the same time, they were prepared to accept any decision by their government, including a possible withdrawal from the treaty.
The subject turned to the threat of a military attack on the site. It had been evident from my discussions with Iranian officials and analysts in Tehran that a Sunday Times report in March disclosing Israeli preparations for possible airstrikes on sites such as Esfahan and Natanz had been widely read. The scientists said that although they had standard safety measures to guard against radiation leaks, they did not have protection against a military attack. Analysts believe airstrikes would destabilise the region. Iran would probably withdraw from the NPT and initiate a nuclear weapons programme. "How far would any radioactive material spread in the event of an attack?" I asked. The scientists estimated that an area of more than a mile around the plant would be contaminated. Some workers could escape through underground tunnels leading from sensitive to safe areas, according to one scientist. But the tunnels were small, he added. "Only one or two people could use them at a time."
THE diplomacy of the coming weeks and months could determine whether the dispute between Iran and the countries most suspicious of its intentions ‹ notably Israel and the United States ‹ will escalate to the point of armed conflict. Iran wants to resume uranium enrichment under an IAEA inspection regime that it says would reassure the world. It is also seeking guarantees that other countries will never attack it with nuclear weapons. The British and Germans are trying to secure Iran's agreement to abandon enrichment in return for benefits including a light water reactor for nuclear energy. France may be willing to support limited uranium enrichment ‹ a compromise that at the present time would be unacceptable to America. Should the tangled talks collapse, Europe will come under strong pressure to back the Americans in referring Iran to the United Nations Security Council for possible sanctions. Iran might well start up its enrichment programme again. British diplomats hope that such a polarisation ‹ and the risk of military action that may follow ‹ can be averted by keeping the talks going until Iran's presidential elections on June 17. They believe a pragmatic victor could open the way for an agreement. At Esfahan, the scientists' hope is for a deal that would prevent the dismantling of the Uranium Conversion Facility.
Our lunch resulted in permission for me to see the object of so much attention with my own eyes. In a changing area at the entrance to the facility, I was handed a green protective suit, along with mask and gloves. Tanks and pipes stretched to the ceiling 20ft above. Metal walkways and ladders offered views over the vast room where the UF6 gas is made. It is stored in tanks and could be moved to Natanz if the government defies the concerns of its negotiating partners.
I concluded my discussions with Iranian scientists, diplomats and government officials by pointing out that the worries of western governments could not be ignored. Anxieties associated with a clash of ideologies and civilisations could not be alleviated by objective guarantees or IAEA inspections, I emphasised. Not only would Iran have to demonstrate the transparency of any continuing programme; it would also have to address systematically and conscientiously concerns about Iran's associations with groups classified as terrorists in western Europe and America.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
V for Vendetta
I liked this movie because it expresses my political frustrations. All its fighting, exploding, and Shakespearean repartee build up to a grand, convulsive, left-wing orgasm. For those of us who have had it up to our frontal lobes with the Right, no sex scene would have substituted.
The masked freedom fighter, V, exists in a future where America has collapsed under its own arrogance. The center of power for the English speaking world has shifted to London, where the action takes place. The I-told-you-so catharsis in this premise alone makes this movie very attractive to the liberal viewer.
Rather than learn from America’s demise and avoid the dangers of propaganda-reinforced authoritarianism, the England of the future has forfeited her power to a tyrannical clique led by a man named Adam Sutler. John Hurt, the actor who plays Sutler, borrows his bark from Hitler, but he gets his bite from Cheney’s cold, threatening postures and Rumsfeld’s malicious intransigence. Sadly, George Bush has contributed little to Sutler’s character. Perhaps this is because Hurt trained in the British dramatic tradition where the words of the script appear to originate from the actor’s own brain. George Bush’s amiable cluelessness, vacant searching eyes, and teleprompter-induced phrasing are not in Hurt’s repertoire.
The hero, V, insightfully recognizes that the public cannot be moved to rebel against this despotic lot as long as their junta appears invincible. To expose the soft belly of the system, V vows to destroy a public building on a specific date. That date is not September 11, but merely associating an act of terrorism with a specific date is more than enough for the viewer to make the connection.
Tense action follows as the calendar flips towards the deadline. We expect V to outsmart his opponents. But he is only one man against the system. Everyone else is waiting to see if V can really blow up the British Houses of Parliament as he promised. A very clever and sympathetic Irish detective with basset hound eyes is close on V’s heels. Spies, thugs and troopers are everywhere. The child molesting Bishop and the Sean Hannity type TV personality that we wish V would assassinate are not easy targets. To add to this already crowded schedule of violence, V has fallen in love with a woman, Evey, and feels compelled to release the inner radical in this uncooperative beauty.
When I say “V has fallen in love with a woman,” I am not being redundant. It is becoming more and more negligent to assume that the object of a hero’s love is the opposite sex. The plot of V for Vendetta devotes a lot of time telling us that a society that persecutes gays and lesbians cannot be considered free. It is the sad story of a lesbian love that finally jolts some courage into Evey. There is also an eclectic gay TV producer, Dietrich, who comes to a bad end partly because he is gay and partly because he owns a copy of the Koran. To an American Muslim, this brief extension of an olive branch from a gay direction is pleasantly puzzling.
To me, Dietrich’s story is the most politically relevant part of this comic book plot. Dietrich is carried off to be tortured after he lampoons the junta’s leader in one of his TV shows. The Wachowski brothers, who wrote and produced V for Vendetta, have not been arrested for making their movie. This reminds us that thankfully we are not living in V’s universe. Stepping out of Dietrich’s story for a while, we see the good news and the bad news. The bad news is that V is a fictitious character. There never was and never will be a liberator. The good news is, there is still time for democratic action so that we won’t need to make heroes out of terrorists like V.
The masked freedom fighter, V, exists in a future where America has collapsed under its own arrogance. The center of power for the English speaking world has shifted to London, where the action takes place. The I-told-you-so catharsis in this premise alone makes this movie very attractive to the liberal viewer.
Rather than learn from America’s demise and avoid the dangers of propaganda-reinforced authoritarianism, the England of the future has forfeited her power to a tyrannical clique led by a man named Adam Sutler. John Hurt, the actor who plays Sutler, borrows his bark from Hitler, but he gets his bite from Cheney’s cold, threatening postures and Rumsfeld’s malicious intransigence. Sadly, George Bush has contributed little to Sutler’s character. Perhaps this is because Hurt trained in the British dramatic tradition where the words of the script appear to originate from the actor’s own brain. George Bush’s amiable cluelessness, vacant searching eyes, and teleprompter-induced phrasing are not in Hurt’s repertoire.
The hero, V, insightfully recognizes that the public cannot be moved to rebel against this despotic lot as long as their junta appears invincible. To expose the soft belly of the system, V vows to destroy a public building on a specific date. That date is not September 11, but merely associating an act of terrorism with a specific date is more than enough for the viewer to make the connection.
Tense action follows as the calendar flips towards the deadline. We expect V to outsmart his opponents. But he is only one man against the system. Everyone else is waiting to see if V can really blow up the British Houses of Parliament as he promised. A very clever and sympathetic Irish detective with basset hound eyes is close on V’s heels. Spies, thugs and troopers are everywhere. The child molesting Bishop and the Sean Hannity type TV personality that we wish V would assassinate are not easy targets. To add to this already crowded schedule of violence, V has fallen in love with a woman, Evey, and feels compelled to release the inner radical in this uncooperative beauty.
When I say “V has fallen in love with a woman,” I am not being redundant. It is becoming more and more negligent to assume that the object of a hero’s love is the opposite sex. The plot of V for Vendetta devotes a lot of time telling us that a society that persecutes gays and lesbians cannot be considered free. It is the sad story of a lesbian love that finally jolts some courage into Evey. There is also an eclectic gay TV producer, Dietrich, who comes to a bad end partly because he is gay and partly because he owns a copy of the Koran. To an American Muslim, this brief extension of an olive branch from a gay direction is pleasantly puzzling.
To me, Dietrich’s story is the most politically relevant part of this comic book plot. Dietrich is carried off to be tortured after he lampoons the junta’s leader in one of his TV shows. The Wachowski brothers, who wrote and produced V for Vendetta, have not been arrested for making their movie. This reminds us that thankfully we are not living in V’s universe. Stepping out of Dietrich’s story for a while, we see the good news and the bad news. The bad news is that V is a fictitious character. There never was and never will be a liberator. The good news is, there is still time for democratic action so that we won’t need to make heroes out of terrorists like V.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
One reason Iran should not be wiped off the map
Historian Peter Green in his book The Greco-Persian wars says, “Those with a naturally authoritarian cast of mind tend to be fascinated by the Achaemenid empire for just the reasons which induced the Greeks to hold out against it: monolithic administration, theocratic absolutism, lack of political opposition….” Never reluctant to imply modern comparisons, Green continues, “Achaemenid Persia... perpetuated a fundamentally static structure, geared to the maintenance of a status quo and hostile to original creativity in any form.”
This analysis of ancient Iran’s Achaemenid empire, serves the opinion that the political scene in Iran hasn’t changed much since 25 centuries ago. Sadly-- after some scholarly exertion and selective assumptions--Green’s confrontational position can be made defensible. Then why, in our modern, democracy-worshipping, world is Iran’s civilization worth preserving?
The answer lies in Iran’s historical tenacity. To Western historians such as Green, the defeat of the mighty Persian Empire by the clever Greeks showcases the triumph of the creative Western mind over the passive and submissive mindset of the East. After the brilliant defense of Greece and the amazing conquests of Alexander the Great, the curtain falls to riotous applause from the Western audience. The Iranian audience however stays around for the next act of the play. Soon after Alexander died, Greece ceased to be a player in world affairs. Though Greek intellectual achievements continue to enrich our lives even today, politically Greece ceased to be a world player back in the 4th century BCE. The supposedly defeated Persians with their “fundamentally static structure...hostile to original creativity in any form” survived as a world power to take on the next great Western empire, Rome.
Though typecast as an imperialistic power, there is little doubt that Rome owed its success to the strong elements of popular participation that characterized its early institutions. The decay of the Roman empire began only after Imperial authoritarianism robbed it of its democratic vitality. Iranians however have never had trouble surviving dictatorships. Like anaerobic life, Iranian societies seem to thrive without the oxygen of democracy. While Rome fell to the barbarian hordes, Iran recovered from the Arab invasion of its borders in less than a century. During this time, not only did Iranians evolve a new identity and language separate from their Arab conquerors, they instigated political manipulations that eventually led to the rise of the Abbasid dynasty. Several historians have argued that the Abbasid caliphate, the period that saw the rise of Islam as a world civilization, represented the shift in Islam from Arab to Iranian culture. The Abbasids relocated the capital of Islam from Damascus to Baghdad --only twenty miles from Ctisphon, the capital of the supposedly extinct Persian Empire.
Then late in the twentieth century, long after Western civilization seemed to have obsolesced rival paths to the evolution of socieites, Iran shocked the world with a revolution that challenged modernism, outmoding the universal appeal of the Western theme. Economically backward, socially disarrayed, and militarily obsolete, Iranians nevertheless found a way to jump back into the fray of History. It is reasonable to ponder whether Islam was merely the ideological vehicle used to accomplish this deliverance. Any other vehicle may have served the creative political psyche of the Iranian people just as well.
As Iran’s confrontation with the West intensifies, we should stay open to the possibility that Iran’s global restlessness may not stem from radical Islam but from the Iranian desire to contribute alternatives on a world scale. In the past these alternatives have not been democratic, but they have been adaptive in their own way, or Iran would not have survived this long as a nation. Let’s keep in mind that we don’t know why democracy ended in Greece and Rome, and we don’t know why it is showing signs of ebbing in the United States. The social conditions for democracy are still a mystery. Iran’s demonstrated ability to preserve civilization in the absence of democracy is one reason why it is wise to keep it on the map.
Friday, April 07, 2006
No god but God
By Reza Aslan, Random House
When I discuss Islam with American friends, they often say, “Someday when I have time, I’ll have to read the Koran.” I usually discourage them. It’s not because, as they like to joke, “it isn’t the kind of book a Muslim wants to find in a friend’s bathroom.” It’s because I don’t think it will help them understand Islam. Unlike the Bible, the Koran is not a self explanatory collection of stories in chronological order. The organizing principle of the Koran is not the order of revelation, but the length of the chapter, the shortest ones appearing at the end of the book. Even within one chapter the subject can skip from analysis of a battle to moral injunctions against usury. Without the context, the content is mostly opaque. For example, when the Koran says “When two parties from among you thought of showing cowardice, and Allah was the Guardian of them both,” It helps to know which battle and which two parties are being discussed. The Koran is a book that you learn, not a book you can just read. So to the Islam enthusiasts in the West, I recommend they save the Koran for later, and read instead Reza Aslan’s No god but God: The Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam.
This book has received enough praise from virtually all major reviews and all relevant academic institutions, so here I will just emphasize that its organizing principle is the antithesis of the Koran. It is highly linear and readily understandable to the Western mind. In keeping with its clarity I will list what you will learn by reading this book:
1. An overview of the politics, economy, and sociology of Arabia just before the appearance of Islam.
2. A functional but not excessively detailed biography of Mohammad.
3. A familiarity with the basic story of early Islam and its first battles under Mohammad’s leadership. You will know the major players, whether they were friend or foe, and how they were dealt with.
4. The early post-Mohammad era and the emerging politics, including how Shiites broke away from the Sunnis.
5. The story of the rise of Islamic civilization, including the origins and evolution of Islamic law. Here you will meet some major Islamic scholars and gain insight into Sufis like Rumi and Omar Khayyam.
6. A beginners skill in how to make sense of the attitudes and behavior of modern Islamic nations like Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan.
Reza Aslan is a not only a scholar, he is a writer who is easy to read. All his meticulously researched and documented statements are framed inside stories, anecdotes, and personal experiences. The pages of No God but God go by so quickly and painlessly you will wish your dentist was that good. There’s even a love story.
When I discuss Islam with American friends, they often say, “Someday when I have time, I’ll have to read the Koran.” I usually discourage them. It’s not because, as they like to joke, “it isn’t the kind of book a Muslim wants to find in a friend’s bathroom.” It’s because I don’t think it will help them understand Islam. Unlike the Bible, the Koran is not a self explanatory collection of stories in chronological order. The organizing principle of the Koran is not the order of revelation, but the length of the chapter, the shortest ones appearing at the end of the book. Even within one chapter the subject can skip from analysis of a battle to moral injunctions against usury. Without the context, the content is mostly opaque. For example, when the Koran says “When two parties from among you thought of showing cowardice, and Allah was the Guardian of them both,” It helps to know which battle and which two parties are being discussed. The Koran is a book that you learn, not a book you can just read. So to the Islam enthusiasts in the West, I recommend they save the Koran for later, and read instead Reza Aslan’s No god but God: The Origins, Evolution and Future of Islam.
This book has received enough praise from virtually all major reviews and all relevant academic institutions, so here I will just emphasize that its organizing principle is the antithesis of the Koran. It is highly linear and readily understandable to the Western mind. In keeping with its clarity I will list what you will learn by reading this book:
1. An overview of the politics, economy, and sociology of Arabia just before the appearance of Islam.
2. A functional but not excessively detailed biography of Mohammad.
3. A familiarity with the basic story of early Islam and its first battles under Mohammad’s leadership. You will know the major players, whether they were friend or foe, and how they were dealt with.
4. The early post-Mohammad era and the emerging politics, including how Shiites broke away from the Sunnis.
5. The story of the rise of Islamic civilization, including the origins and evolution of Islamic law. Here you will meet some major Islamic scholars and gain insight into Sufis like Rumi and Omar Khayyam.
6. A beginners skill in how to make sense of the attitudes and behavior of modern Islamic nations like Iran, Afghanistan, and Pakistan.
Reza Aslan is a not only a scholar, he is a writer who is easy to read. All his meticulously researched and documented statements are framed inside stories, anecdotes, and personal experiences. The pages of No God but God go by so quickly and painlessly you will wish your dentist was that good. There’s even a love story.
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