Tuesday
Jun082010
Iran Election Anniversary Special: The Power of the "Gradual"
Tuesday, June 8, 2010 at 13:55
This morning, I drafted this contribution to a new project for the anniversary of Iran's election. (More details soon, I hope.) I decided to post this after reading a series of high-profile analysis in Foreign Policy magazine which try to define Iran One Year Later for us. Ironically, given that the title of the collection is "Misreading Tehran", I found some of the pieces misleading, misguided, and even at times --- although I know this was not the intention of the authors --- belittling in their representation of Iranians.
So, in part, this is my response to those unhelpful definitions. But, in larger part, it is a Thank You to those who have been my instructors during this past year.
On 12 June 2009, I was enjoying a night out in London. My wife, who patiently puts up with the daily demands of my website on international affairs, had asked if I could risk trading an evening with Iran's Presidential election for dinner and the theatre. I assured her that it was clear that President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his leading challenger Mir Hossein Mousavi would move to a second round of voting.
At 7:30 the next morning, the BBC rang to ask for an urgent comment: Ahmadinejad had won in the initial ballot with 63% of the vote. After I gave them a remark based more on surprise than insight, I realised two things: 1) I would be covering this story every day until there was a resolution; 2) to do so, I would have to become a student, seeking a variety of teachers to give me a crash course on the dynamics of Iranian politics, economics, religion, and society.
It is a year later. There is no resolution, and I am still learning.
I had had the good fortune, in the years before the 2009 election, to be introduced to Iran. I had worked with Iranian colleagues and students, and eventually --- despite my US passport --- had been able to visit the country to teach, participate in seminars, and give interviews to the Iranian media. I had even become an Adjunct Professor at a leading Iranian university.
Those opportunities had given me a glimpse of an Iran which was one of the most political environments I had ever encountered. There was constant discussion --- even as there were limits on that discussion --- of what the country was and what it might become. There was consideration, beyond the simplicities of the US v. Iran, of Tehran's role in the region and in the world, there were concerns about an economy facing both internal challenges and external restrictions, and there were glimpses of debates on social and cultural issues. Inevitably, given that I was working with students, there was much attention to the “Third Generation” that had grown up after the Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s. I was told often --- by both critics and defenders of the Government --- that 30 years after the 1979 introduction of an Islamic Republic, this was a “Gradual Revolution”.
In the weeks before and after the 2009 election, however, change did not seem “gradual”. Even watching from a distance, I was swept up in the excitement that surrounded a campaign which, with its televised debates as well as its well-attended speeches, appeared to offer a louder political voice to Iran's people. That fervour continued after the election when President Ahmadinejad's victory speech, with its description of opponents as “dust and tumbleweeds”, was met by millions on the streets of Tehran. It crackled when the Supreme Leader's Friday Prayer vindicating the vote encountered more demonstrations of anger, tragedy, and hope. It would be resurgent when there were more public encounters: in mid-July after former President Hashemi Rafsanjani's Friday Prayer, on Qods Day in September, from 13 Aban (4 November) to 16 Azar (7 December) to the funeral of Grand Ayatollah Montazeri to the commemoration of Ashura on 27 December.
These were dramatic, still vivid events, yet I wonder if they misled us into forgetting about the “gradual”. Narratives were written as if a knockout blow would be landed either by the Green Movement or by the defenders of President Ahmadinejad. Predictions were uttered about the imminent fall or unshakeable permanence of the Islamic Republic. Each public occasion, while important, was given the aura of the defining incident that would finally conclude the inconclusive outcome of 12 June 2009.
Prize fights are settled within 15 rounds of 3 minutes each; the quest for civil rights is not. The election, after all, was just the public apex of a larger, ongoing climb for political, economic, and social recognition, respect, and justice. The Green Movement, as significant as it would become, did not displace the movements for women's rights, student rights, labour rights, legal rights, economic rights, religious rights, and the rights of Iran's many ethnic groups. (Indeed, one of the ongoing, “deeper” issues of this past year has been how the Green Movement --- if it is more than a symbolic entity --- interacts with the activism of these other movements.)
This post-election contest, which rested upon years of discussion and challenge within the Islamic Republic, was always destined to be a marathon and not a sprint.
But marathons are hard to cover. And, in the immediate aftermath of 12 June, that coverage --- at least by “mainstream” media --- would be complicated as Iranian authorities cracked down on domestic and foreign correspondents. The “mainstream” non-Iranian press was effectively blinded within weeks as reporters were expelled or fled because of intimidation and threats of detention, camera crews were restricted to offices and hotel rooms, and bureaus were shut. Iranian journalists persisted, but many of them --- eventually more than 100 --- would wind up in jail. By September, even the most prominent reformist newspapers and websites were being shut down, their offices raided and ransacked, their editors behind bars.
Unsurprisingly, some non-Iranian outlets --- deprived of their “normal” capacity for effective reporting --- would thus look for the big event rather than the gradual shifts. There would be weeks of silence or muted coverage of internal events, often as headlines were devoted to Iran's nuclear programme, and then a sudden burst of attention to a gathering such as the Ashura demonstration or the rallies on 11 February, the anniversary of the Islamic Revolution. Then, when that high-profile event did not produce a clean, final “victory”, the mainstream media might retreat into somnolence, sometimes after a benediction that the Green Movement had been vanquished.
Well, here's the paradox: amidst and even beyond these big events, the “gradual” has triumphed in media as well as politics.
Ultimately, it is not the speed of technology that --- despite the repression of the Iranian Government and despite the retreat of the “mainstream” media --- has ensured that Iran's post-election story is still ongoing in June 2010. Rather, it is the “gradual” efforts of those who, each day, often at risk to themselves, have persisted in telling their tales or passing on the information from others.
They are not the international correspondents with news programmes named after them, they are not the anchormen and anchorwomen with weekly talk shows to define the news, they do not even have by-lines. Sometimes their names are not even their own but are the pseudonyms and usernames that have to be adopted to ensure that they can report again.
However, it is they who remove our blindness by giving us a glimpse of the day-to-day. It is they who break up the deafening noise of State propaganda and pronouncements with sounds of what has occurred in their neighbourhoods. It is they who give form to the meaning --- not in the abstract, but in the real --- of “rights” and “justice”.
Ironically and somewhat sadly, I write this --- four days before the anniversary of the election --- as yet another set of articles by analysts tries to define all that we have experienced. One headline blares, “The Green Movement was a historic success. Too bad no one was watching.” (No. We are still watching, still writing, still learning.) A commentator proclaims, "Getting the real story out of Iran today is virtually impossible." (Difficult, yes. Impossible, no --- thanks to those whom the commentator, focused on mainstream media, never notices.) A journalist declares, “There was no Twitter Revolution inside Iran.” (No, but that was never the issue. Twitter is a tool, a powerful tool that allows us to ensure that the “gradual” does not disappear --- we are still reporting, still writing, still learning --- as those in power try to shut down information into and out of Iran.)
[An important caveat: the collection also includes a redemptive piece by Nazila Fathi which avoids the dismissive generalisations and assesses, "Despite those all the obstacles put in its way, the media has done a remarkable job in properly identifying the enormity of the past year's events. The Green Movement has, indeed, shaken the very core of the Islamic Republic. The country is polarized and the regime's legitimacy has been compromised. All of this, the Western media -- at least, those of us who had any real experience covering Iran -- got largely right."
My one suggestion is that Fathi's "media" be considered as not only "Western media" but many Iranian journalists and Iranians who report even if they do not carry official press credentials.]
But, as I write this, irony rebounds and sadness turns back to hope. For I read these edicts from those analysts and journalists who try to define, once and for all, what has happened. Then I read the contributions in this book, contributions which come not from anointed experts or the by-lined professionals, and I realise that the story of “what has happened” is in these essays.
And it is not just “what has happened” but “what may happen”. There are no proclamations of the final outcome in these pages, no ringing of the bell to say that all is complete. Instead, the victory is in the process, the pursuit of the “gradual”. As long as the search for rights is persistent in these words of sorrow or hope, then rights cannot be denied. As long as the vision of fairness is offered in these reflections, then others have not succeeding in making us --- inside or outside Iran --- blind.
The power of the vote may have been taken away on 12 June 2009. Some may try to pronounce that Iranians --- repressed by their Government, bedazzled by false hopes of Twitter --- are reduced to the powerless. But As long as the power to express is put in the simple but effective phrases by these authors, then the power of expression remains.
A marathon, not a sprint.
So, in part, this is my response to those unhelpful definitions. But, in larger part, it is a Thank You to those who have been my instructors during this past year.
On 12 June 2009, I was enjoying a night out in London. My wife, who patiently puts up with the daily demands of my website on international affairs, had asked if I could risk trading an evening with Iran's Presidential election for dinner and the theatre. I assured her that it was clear that President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his leading challenger Mir Hossein Mousavi would move to a second round of voting.
At 7:30 the next morning, the BBC rang to ask for an urgent comment: Ahmadinejad had won in the initial ballot with 63% of the vote. After I gave them a remark based more on surprise than insight, I realised two things: 1) I would be covering this story every day until there was a resolution; 2) to do so, I would have to become a student, seeking a variety of teachers to give me a crash course on the dynamics of Iranian politics, economics, religion, and society.
It is a year later. There is no resolution, and I am still learning.
I had had the good fortune, in the years before the 2009 election, to be introduced to Iran. I had worked with Iranian colleagues and students, and eventually --- despite my US passport --- had been able to visit the country to teach, participate in seminars, and give interviews to the Iranian media. I had even become an Adjunct Professor at a leading Iranian university.
Those opportunities had given me a glimpse of an Iran which was one of the most political environments I had ever encountered. There was constant discussion --- even as there were limits on that discussion --- of what the country was and what it might become. There was consideration, beyond the simplicities of the US v. Iran, of Tehran's role in the region and in the world, there were concerns about an economy facing both internal challenges and external restrictions, and there were glimpses of debates on social and cultural issues. Inevitably, given that I was working with students, there was much attention to the “Third Generation” that had grown up after the Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s. I was told often --- by both critics and defenders of the Government --- that 30 years after the 1979 introduction of an Islamic Republic, this was a “Gradual Revolution”.
In the weeks before and after the 2009 election, however, change did not seem “gradual”. Even watching from a distance, I was swept up in the excitement that surrounded a campaign which, with its televised debates as well as its well-attended speeches, appeared to offer a louder political voice to Iran's people. That fervour continued after the election when President Ahmadinejad's victory speech, with its description of opponents as “dust and tumbleweeds”, was met by millions on the streets of Tehran. It crackled when the Supreme Leader's Friday Prayer vindicating the vote encountered more demonstrations of anger, tragedy, and hope. It would be resurgent when there were more public encounters: in mid-July after former President Hashemi Rafsanjani's Friday Prayer, on Qods Day in September, from 13 Aban (4 November) to 16 Azar (7 December) to the funeral of Grand Ayatollah Montazeri to the commemoration of Ashura on 27 December.
These were dramatic, still vivid events, yet I wonder if they misled us into forgetting about the “gradual”. Narratives were written as if a knockout blow would be landed either by the Green Movement or by the defenders of President Ahmadinejad. Predictions were uttered about the imminent fall or unshakeable permanence of the Islamic Republic. Each public occasion, while important, was given the aura of the defining incident that would finally conclude the inconclusive outcome of 12 June 2009.
Prize fights are settled within 15 rounds of 3 minutes each; the quest for civil rights is not. The election, after all, was just the public apex of a larger, ongoing climb for political, economic, and social recognition, respect, and justice. The Green Movement, as significant as it would become, did not displace the movements for women's rights, student rights, labour rights, legal rights, economic rights, religious rights, and the rights of Iran's many ethnic groups. (Indeed, one of the ongoing, “deeper” issues of this past year has been how the Green Movement --- if it is more than a symbolic entity --- interacts with the activism of these other movements.)
This post-election contest, which rested upon years of discussion and challenge within the Islamic Republic, was always destined to be a marathon and not a sprint.
But marathons are hard to cover. And, in the immediate aftermath of 12 June, that coverage --- at least by “mainstream” media --- would be complicated as Iranian authorities cracked down on domestic and foreign correspondents. The “mainstream” non-Iranian press was effectively blinded within weeks as reporters were expelled or fled because of intimidation and threats of detention, camera crews were restricted to offices and hotel rooms, and bureaus were shut. Iranian journalists persisted, but many of them --- eventually more than 100 --- would wind up in jail. By September, even the most prominent reformist newspapers and websites were being shut down, their offices raided and ransacked, their editors behind bars.
Unsurprisingly, some non-Iranian outlets --- deprived of their “normal” capacity for effective reporting --- would thus look for the big event rather than the gradual shifts. There would be weeks of silence or muted coverage of internal events, often as headlines were devoted to Iran's nuclear programme, and then a sudden burst of attention to a gathering such as the Ashura demonstration or the rallies on 11 February, the anniversary of the Islamic Revolution. Then, when that high-profile event did not produce a clean, final “victory”, the mainstream media might retreat into somnolence, sometimes after a benediction that the Green Movement had been vanquished.
Well, here's the paradox: amidst and even beyond these big events, the “gradual” has triumphed in media as well as politics.
Ultimately, it is not the speed of technology that --- despite the repression of the Iranian Government and despite the retreat of the “mainstream” media --- has ensured that Iran's post-election story is still ongoing in June 2010. Rather, it is the “gradual” efforts of those who, each day, often at risk to themselves, have persisted in telling their tales or passing on the information from others.
They are not the international correspondents with news programmes named after them, they are not the anchormen and anchorwomen with weekly talk shows to define the news, they do not even have by-lines. Sometimes their names are not even their own but are the pseudonyms and usernames that have to be adopted to ensure that they can report again.
However, it is they who remove our blindness by giving us a glimpse of the day-to-day. It is they who break up the deafening noise of State propaganda and pronouncements with sounds of what has occurred in their neighbourhoods. It is they who give form to the meaning --- not in the abstract, but in the real --- of “rights” and “justice”.
Ironically and somewhat sadly, I write this --- four days before the anniversary of the election --- as yet another set of articles by analysts tries to define all that we have experienced. One headline blares, “The Green Movement was a historic success. Too bad no one was watching.” (No. We are still watching, still writing, still learning.) A commentator proclaims, "Getting the real story out of Iran today is virtually impossible." (Difficult, yes. Impossible, no --- thanks to those whom the commentator, focused on mainstream media, never notices.) A journalist declares, “There was no Twitter Revolution inside Iran.” (No, but that was never the issue. Twitter is a tool, a powerful tool that allows us to ensure that the “gradual” does not disappear --- we are still reporting, still writing, still learning --- as those in power try to shut down information into and out of Iran.)
[An important caveat: the collection also includes a redemptive piece by Nazila Fathi which avoids the dismissive generalisations and assesses, "Despite those all the obstacles put in its way, the media has done a remarkable job in properly identifying the enormity of the past year's events. The Green Movement has, indeed, shaken the very core of the Islamic Republic. The country is polarized and the regime's legitimacy has been compromised. All of this, the Western media -- at least, those of us who had any real experience covering Iran -- got largely right."
My one suggestion is that Fathi's "media" be considered as not only "Western media" but many Iranian journalists and Iranians who report even if they do not carry official press credentials.]
But, as I write this, irony rebounds and sadness turns back to hope. For I read these edicts from those analysts and journalists who try to define, once and for all, what has happened. Then I read the contributions in this book, contributions which come not from anointed experts or the by-lined professionals, and I realise that the story of “what has happened” is in these essays.
And it is not just “what has happened” but “what may happen”. There are no proclamations of the final outcome in these pages, no ringing of the bell to say that all is complete. Instead, the victory is in the process, the pursuit of the “gradual”. As long as the search for rights is persistent in these words of sorrow or hope, then rights cannot be denied. As long as the vision of fairness is offered in these reflections, then others have not succeeding in making us --- inside or outside Iran --- blind.
The power of the vote may have been taken away on 12 June 2009. Some may try to pronounce that Iranians --- repressed by their Government, bedazzled by false hopes of Twitter --- are reduced to the powerless. But As long as the power to express is put in the simple but effective phrases by these authors, then the power of expression remains.
A marathon, not a sprint.
Reader Comments (14)
[...] Iran Election Anniversary Special: The Power of the “Gradual … [...]
Great article, Scott. Am glad the Foreign Policy stories inspired you to write this. But. My feeling is the authors totally agree with you - they simply didn't write for you: they wrote for a badly informed, hasty American audience in waiting for a quick ending, a sprint finish. That's why one headline reads “The Green Movement was a historic success. Too bad no one (in the West!) was watching.”
I'm sure if you try to read these articles with uniformed, American/Western eyes - only having followed the news from Iran on TV and (I know, impossible) you will find they are quite good :-)
Excellent article!
WitteKr,
My belated thanks to you for getting the ball rolling by noting the FP collection.
As I'm cooling down (and re-reading the pieces), I'm seeing the merit in your points. It is good that FP is running articles that concentrate on the internal dimension rather than the nuclear issue.The Fathi piece is spirited and, although I have differences with Nafizi's approach, at least we get consideration of "civil society". And at least one of my issues is really with a headline writer than the author, even if the piece left open the opportunity of a slanted headline.
That said, I still found the treatment of "what we know" about Iran verging on the belittling. What of those outside the US (perhaps even some in Iran?) who read Foreign Policy and see this representation? What of those inside the US who have followed events or may wish to start doing so? Are they to be effectively instructed that a "real" vision of Iran only exists if it can be obtained by the mainstream media rather than through the alternatives that I have found essential in my own education?
And I will add one point that I did not make in the main piece: I was unsettled that the essay taking down Twitter directly went after one activist who has been a vital source of information. Once again, as with last summer's treatment of activists by "mainstream" journalists, this was an unwarranted slap-down.
As I cool down, I should say: We're all in this together. So I hope all will focus on what matters --- learning about the situation in Iran --- rather than staking out who gets to define that situation.
S.
Scott, I totally agree with your conclusion: We're all in this together.
Having been in the media industry myself, I know how these productions evolve. Someone in the newsroom has a bright idea "Why not ask some well informed Iranian-Americans to cover the last year for us. We come up with the themes and look for the right writers..."
And in the end it's the newsroom that makes the headlines and bylines. The story on the role of Twitter wasn't meant to be belittling or a slap-down. It just stated that Twitter - within Iran - wasn't the main carrier of communication. And outside Iran: it made some journalists lazy. They just checked Twitter and didn't bother to check again, somewhere else (as they should). Hence: misinformation.
And as if the author knew her contribution might be taken the wrong way (or badly headlined) she ended with this:
"To be clear: It's not that Twitter publicists of the Iranian protests haven't played a role in the events of the past year. They have. It's just not been the outsized role it's often been made out to be. And ultimately, that's been a terrible injustice to the Iranians who have made real, not remote or virtual, sacrifices in pursuit of justice."
True.
Scott, if you realised from the beginning that you "would be covering this story every day until there was a resolution", it's quite a long time since I realized Enduring America is doing a great job, getting info from reliable sources, covering most relevant #iranelection stories, and putting them in a structured manner. You are definitely helping the history to be documented!
Regards,
@Bsalamati
Scott
I have noticed (over the past year) your frustration with Western media outlets. I understand and share your frustration. But perhaps you are a little naive in your appreciation of just what it is that these outlets are now all about?
They are first and foremost commercial operations. Their bottom line is to stay afloat - next up from the bottom line is to make some money.
Secondly, although I OFTEN here assertions from media people that they are "honest" and "professional" in their reporting, I have come to realize fully that most media these days is more about "analysis", "theorizing about the future " and the pushing of "privately and media outlet based biases", than it is about mere reporting of what has happened. A hurricane happens - the first reports immediately after that are " Why did it happen?? - Global warming? Global cooling? God is angry?., followed by "will it happen again and when?" - followed by all sorts of personal/commercial agendas as to why hurricanes should or should not be sanctioned by the UN :) In other words, a lot of words created by the media because they HAVE to say something - to get paid on Friday!!!
Cynical of me I know - at least for me now, the Internet allows me to sift through many sources to see if I can somehow get to understand what is really going on. Most where I live are not interested in doing this - except for those matters that hit them immediately, directly and personally. This attitude is, I am sure, exactly the same within Iran itself. As yet the masses have not "suffered" enough to leave their houses and effect change.
Barry
Thanks to all for constructive criticism and supportive comments. It is a nice touch to be able to say, hours after writing of how I became a student, that I have learned more from the follow-up to this piece.
S.
Please thank your wife, who 'patiently puts up with the daily demands of the EA website', too? Wish I had the magic to offer you both a night on the town, with dinner and theater (on the 13th... :-)
To Scott Lucas: Thank you for your thoughts and support of the Iranian struggle for freedom and democracy. Yes, their story is told in snatches, at great risk. And yes, the rest of us can pass it on.
Remember in fledgling America -- those patriots communicated their cause for a time with notes stuck on bulletin boards. And the method is much older than that, as you well know. The first drums, the first smoke fires, warning, informing, humans, ever reporting throughout the ages. And it continues, despite what mainstream media concludes.
Many Iranian messages express a desire for nonviolent change, which is essentially difficult to accomplish when the opponent uses mostly brutal tactics. What heart these people have to continue on -- they humble most of the world with their courage. They have become one living organism in tune with this one fundamental wish, which musts arrive when it arrives.
Again, thank you for your commentary. It is genuine and indicates a true love for the task. The world is, of course, a wide wide place, with uncountable opinions. This reader appreciates yours on Iran, even though support for NIAC is not in this deck of cards.
I, too, while not "green" to Iran, have learned much in the past year.
And, I have you Scott, to thank for augmenting in real-time my feverish 'marathon' of book reading on the Islamic Republic.
It has been invaluable and a sort of comforting "home" to check on everyday for the latest.
Scott,
WitteKr's comments about the FP articles reflect exactly what I would have said, so I won't repeat her thoughts. I do think the danger of losing perspective is just as real if one remains deep on the inside or exclusively in the mainstream for too long. I experienced something similar while on vacation in Scotland where we were stayed in country inns that only had BBC domestic and local TV. No Aljazeera English, no BBC World (obviously) and frequently no WiFi internet access. The coverage of the Gaza flotilla crisis on BBC UK and BBC Scotland was a far cry from the wealth of information, interviews with eyewitnesses and in-depth analysis we finally saw on Aljazeera English and in/via EA's live-blogs when we were back in the loop. On the other hand, if all we had watched or read was Aljazeera English and EA, we would have been stuck with pretty paltry or no coverage of the shootings in Cumbria that swept the Gaza flotilla crisis (and every other story) clean off the screens 2 days after the crisis, dominating the news 24/7 to the day we left (4 June). ;-)
Thank you Scott and the entire EA team for the tremendous job you have all done, not just with Iran, but with Gaza, Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan and many other regions and issues.
I just wish Discus weren't such a pain! :-)
[...] Iranian university and Professor of American Studies at the University of Birmingham (England), sums it up succinctly: Prize fights are settled within 15 rounds of 3 minutes each; the quest for civil rights is not. [...]
[...] Iranian university and Professor of American Studies at the University of Birmingham (England), sums it up succinctly:Prize fights are settled within 15 rounds of 3 minutes each; the quest for civil rights is not. The [...]