by Farideh Farhi

Iranian news agencies are reporting that a “knowledgeable source” is suggesting Foreign Minister Mohammad Javad Zarif cancelled his dinner meeting with EU Foreign Policy chief Catherine Ashton on the eve of nuclear talks in Vienna to protest her meeting with civil and women’s rights activists, including the [...]]]> via LobeLog

by Farideh Farhi

Iranian news agencies are reporting that a “knowledgeable source” is suggesting Foreign Minister Mohammad Javad Zarif cancelled his dinner meeting with EU Foreign Policy chief Catherine Ashton on the eve of nuclear talks in Vienna to protest her meeting with civil and women’s rights activists, including the mother of Sattar Beheshti, a blogger who was tortured and died while in custody, during her recent visit to Iran.

I do not know if the reason given for the dinner cancellation is true. There are indications that Ashton may have been occupied in Brussels with discussions on EU sanctions against Russia, and her spokesperson said there were no plans for dinner in the first place. At some level, it is irrelevant whether this is true or not. It is now a “fact” and other reports that the respective deputies of these chiefs did have dinner together are irrelevant since this particular public dance and drama over human rights in Iran is not about policy but about appearances and posturing.

The released photo of Ashton’s meeting with the activists tells it all. Although there were other women in the room, Ashton is presented with only two (besides her translator) — Narges Mohammadi and Gohar Eshghi. The first is a human rights advocate whose inhumane treatment in prison while she was ill, and her quiet dignity in the midst of it all, became a legend; the second is an aggrieved mother from a working class neighborhood who carries a framed picture of Beheshti (her son) everywhere. I would like to know who released the photo and with what intent. But that may also be irrelevant because when it comes to Iranian politics, like elsewhere, what something turns into usually overtakes intent, many times even undermining it.

Ashton is gone and the political storm she ignited has been left behind. She has no EU parliamentarians asking questions about what she did in Iran. The symbolic photo is of good use for placating the constituencies who worry the EU will abandon human rights for the sake of a nuclear deal. She reportedly showed compassion. She told Eshghi that she sympathized because she is also a mother and that she would talk to authorities regarding her desire for a public trial on charges of first degree murder (a trial has been set for the accused in early April for second-degree murder). There is no evidence that Ashton actually carried out her promise of talking to an official before she flew out of Tehran. But the photo is for keeps.

In Tehran, though, pandemonium and controversy combined with quite a bit of comedic relief have been the order of the day. As was the case when a European Parliament delegation met with Sakharov Prize winners Nasrin Sotudeh and Jafar Panahi, no government official is taking responsibility for Ashton’s itinerary. Everyone is feigning aghast at what happened, but on the question of who allowed it to happen, the official response is more like mystification.

Meanwhile Iranian hard-liners could have limited themselves to making a big fuss and hurling insults at the appearance and age of the female leader, as they usually do in response to US nuclear negotiator Wendy Sherman’s statements. Additionally, the 40 or so hard-line MPs, generally close to Ayatollah Mesbah Yazdi’s Steadfastness Front, could yell at the foreign and intelligence ministers for either permitting the meeting or not preventing it; drag them in for questioning and explanations that would not be satisfactory in any case; warn against the rise of sedition yet again; and then move on to another controversy.

But for the opponents of Hassan Rouhani’s government, Ashton’s meeting was both an opportunity and challenge. An opportunity because Ashton’s sudden turn towards human rights, after so many years of being known solely as someone leading negotiations with Iran, was a timely confirmation of the point made again last week by Leader Ali Khamenei: Western pressure will not end even if the nuclear issue is resolved. He has repeatedly stated that they will come after us for other stuff including human rights. (One colorful cleric took this further during a Friday Prayer by saying that after human rights it’ll probably be animal rights).

Ashton’s photo gave hard-liners an opportunity for a twofer: questioning Western motives in nuclear talks and screaming sedition at domestic opponents. One MP announced thunderously that Iran is not Ukraine! But the photo also provided them a winning point regarding Western hypocrisy. A poster that showed up in Tehran, collating Ashton’s half-face with Saddam’s — highlighting the human costs of the chemical weapons supplied to Iraq by Europeans during the Iran-Iraq War — was intended to remind everyone that the humanitarian impulse is applied very selectively when state interests are involved.

The photo is nevertheless also a challenge since it exhibits what the defenders of doctrine fear most: a collusion of dissidents and the usually devoted, working-class poor against doctrine and injustice. So threatening is the photo that the Javan daily decided to do its own reframing. It simply used Photoshop to delete Eshghi’s image (state TV did the same a few days later) and then, when Javan was ridiculed (since the photo with Eshghi in it had already been published by a reformist paper) said it did not want to offend the aggrieved mother by placing her next to a “seditioner.” (The seditioner in question, Mohammadi, was even called a terrorist by a female MP, a charge Mohammadi responded to with her pen).

According to Javan’s explanation, the deletion had nothing to do with the discomfort caused by Eshghi’s appearance, which so resembles that of thousands of other mothers who saw their sons “martyred” in the Iran-Iraq War. Even more discomforting is that the photo of her son she carries everywhere brings to mind the images displayed throughout Iran of the many young Iranian “martyrs” who died in the Iran-Iraq War. The Islamic Republic has celebrated the courage, endurance, patience, and piety of these mothers and sons unremittingly. Separating Eshghi from the mothers who sent their sons to the war front, who suffered quietly and longingly when their boys died but still took pride in what they died for, makes the digital elimination of her image the only possible solution to a very uneasy predicament.

In the words of the young and very funny Iranian satirist, Aydin Sayar, writing for the Qanun daily, all this explains why Photoshop is the greatest of human inventions: it allows us to visualize every desire. But Javan’s editorial staff should really be faulted for not using Photoshop to its full potential. In Sayar’s vision, they could have, for instance, transposed Eshghi to a photo of Ashton meeting with former nuclear negotiator Saeed Jalili. Eshghi and Jalili, meeting Ashton together, confirm doctrine and assure continued political clout.

My bet is that with the reported creation of a “truth commission” in the Parliament to examine the “issue of Ashton’s meeting with an element of sedition” this round of loud criticism directed at the foreign and intelligence ministries will likely last longer than the previous round involving members of the European Parliament. But it will also eventually pass, probably when a better opportunity arises. (It should be pointed out that Zarif is getting it from the other side as well. Mohammadi wrote a public letter criticizing him for calling her a seditioner in an interview; never mind that the reporting of Zarif’s statement was in Mashreq, a hard-line news site that’s not usually a reliable source for exact wording.)

Zarif, like other cabinet members in general, is in the process of perfecting the art of lying low and not reacting much. But he did increase the drama when he stated on his Facebook page that for the sake of the “national interest” he will remain silent for now. He also called on all to avoid hasty judgments and instead focus on the joy of the World Cup victory of the Iranian wrestling team in Los Angeles as the Iranian New Year approaches. Expressions of humility and positivity in the face of an aggressive opponent’s charge are as good as the foreign minister is going to give for now.

Beyond the immediate situation, though, the loud noise surrounding Ashton’s visit does reveal a point regarding the effectiveness of external pressure in relation to human rights. Her visit has been used by hard-liners to yell sedition ad nauseam but it has also stirred a conversation regarding whether foreign officials (including ambassadors) should be allowed — or are entitled — to meet with the opposition without controversy. After all, it is said that Iranian officials meet with opposition figures in other countries all the time. So the reality of Iran’s polity being contested, and its civil society alert, opens up the possibility of using external concerns for Iranian human rights to push for some sort of change.

But loudness may also undercut efficacy. For instance, in the past couple of months, several prominent Iranians, including former President Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani and MP Ali Mottahari, have made the point that negotiations for the release of former presidential candidates Mehdi Karroubi and Mir Hossein Mousavi (and his spouse Zahra Rahnavard) were getting somewhere but came to a halt when there was too much noise. According to Motthari, who has repeatedly called for the release or trial of these political leaders, the lifting of limitations on them was in the works in October but was derailed by discussions of the issue in the press and “the reformist claims of victory.” He went on to say that the intent is “to remove the limitations gradually in a way that is not really noticed.”

It is hard to see how such politically charged issues can be managed in an unnoticed way but the appeal for quiet diplomacy inside Iran as well as gradual and incremental (mini-steps, really) is nevertheless offered as a better alternative to making more drastic demands or moves that carry the potential of turning the hard-liners’ screams into reactionary policy. With the experience of the reformist era in everyone’s mind, the worry is that drastic moves or bold and unattainable demands at this point will end up frightening and again pushing the more middle of the road conservatives into the hard-liners’ arms.

Not surprisingly, there is evidence of the government’s preference for — and perhaps a degree of effectiveness in — quiet and incremental change. Last week the charismatic student leader Abdollah Momeni was released one day before his 5-year term was over. According to an interview his wife gave to the Europe-based Rooz Online, he was taken out of prison quietly and left in the middle of the street to find someone to take him to his home and spouse. She suggested that this was done to prevent a noisy greeting party the day he was supposed to be released. This was certainly not a decent thing to do, but the fact that no new charges to prevent the release of this political prisoner were made up could also be considered a quiet step.

Another tiny step was taken yesterday when Mousavi and his wife were allowed to visit Rahnavard’s old and ailing mother. When they encountered a dozen other visitors by chance, the guards, after some resistance, ultimately allowed the family to briefly talk to each other. This surprising event was seen as a sign of opening up made possible by Rouhani; minimal, but nevertheless a change.

The debate over how fast or how loudly to challenge the issue of political prisoners is also happening among the reformists. Even some reformist political prisoners who have in the past written public letters criticizing the conduct of the highest officials have gone quiet in the past couple of months, perhaps persuaded that quiet diplomacy will work better for now. Others have not.

Even if the government manages to persuade most of Iran’s citizens that this is the time for patience and tiny, step-by-step incremental change, it cannot convince everyone. Nor can it control the impatience of many networks outside of Iran that monitor Iran’s human rights situation on a daily basis with its slow pace of change and even occasional reversals. Any opening energizes them to call for more. This is just the way human rights activism works throughout the world.

This leaves the Rouhani government with a delicate balancing act between taking mini-steps for change and defending itself against pressures and charges that will come from forces on both sides of the political spectrum. So far, Rouhani is more or less managing the situation; Zarif met with Ashton this morning and it was all nuclear talk.

by Farideh Farhi

Iran’s cabinet confirmation hearings this week were painful, but not for its new president Hassan Rouhani, despite the rejection of 3 out of his 18 ministerial nominees. They were painful for Iran’s hardliners, whose mismanagement of the country was spotlighted along with their weakening form of political speech.

A [...]]]> via LobeLog

by Farideh Farhi

Iran’s cabinet confirmation hearings this week were painful, but not for its new president Hassan Rouhani, despite the rejection of 3 out of his 18 ministerial nominees. They were painful for Iran’s hardliners, whose mismanagement of the country was spotlighted along with their weakening form of political speech.

A good number of Iran’s political class and punditry must have watched in awe as the people who have been framing and dominating public discourse in Iran — particularly in the last 4 years — adopted the role of the opposition. As they spoke, what has gone wrong with the Islamic Republic became more and more evident: the ideological governance, which is quite distinct from ideological rule, that frames the Islamic Republic as a system. The tension between the ideological framing of the Islamic Republic and the technocratic exigencies of a developmentalist welfare state has existed in the Islamic Republic from day one. But it was dramatically on display in these public hearings.

The undoing of Iran’s hardliners

In rhetorical confrontations between national-level figures and parochial-like local politicians, it’s not hard for the former to outshine the latter. But something else was going on here as well. The questioning of the center-reformist cabinet nominees by the parliament’s hardliners was consumed with the relationship of the nominees to the so-called sedition (fetneh) and had nothing to do with the nominees’ proposed ministerial plans and polices. In other words, the nominees’ qualifications were overshadowed by a focus on what they did during Iran’s 2009 post-election unrest. To boot, the questioning was carried out in a street-talk manner, which is completely out of place in a public forum broadcast on national television. One member of parliament even spoke about the “club” Iranian Lurs use to treat those who do not walk a straight line. He had to apologize for imputing a tendency towards violence to his own ethnic group.

The contrast between the MPs and Rouhani’s nominees — who maintained their dignity while responding to their opponents without transgressing acceptable political speech — was striking. After all, if post-election protests are identified as fetneh in official discourse, one would have a hard time achieving a ministerial post while admitting they supported them. But one can defend one’s record while stating allegiance to the Islamic Republic and its institutions, including the office of the Leader Ali Khamenei. And although some were better than others, Rouhani’s nominees defended themselves well and even engaged in a degree of pushback regarding why they acted more properly and humanely than MPs who showed no sympathy for Iranian protesters who were harmed or even killed.

Again, the contrast between the way Rouhani’s nominees’ spoke in defense of their policies and political outlook and the accusatory language of the MPs was striking. Of course, public displays of official denunciatory language aren’t new for the Iranian public. Indeed, it has been the dominant form political speech in the past few years. What made the broadcasted hearings fascinating was the gradual public realization that the folks who have led Iran into disaster are now sitting in judgment of the folks the electorate voted for. They were voted in precisely because they promised to run the country with managerial expertise and to loosen the grip of ideology over decision-making.

As the hearings proceeded — on the first day sedition-related words were reportedly used over 1,600 times — it became clear that “sedition” is the only ammunition the hardliners have. A prominent conservative MP even said out loud that hardliners have become “merchants of sedition” who are making a living from applying the label. But the confirmation of four of Rouhani’s key nominees who were accused of cavorting with seditionists was a disaster for the discourse of sedition. It’s obvious that the hardliners’ favorite mode of attack is becoming increasingly weak.

Ultimately, out of the many effective speeches given by the nominees, two stand out for me because of the unraveling of tensions that accompanied them.

Iran’s new foreign minister

Mohammad Javad Zarif’s speech literally quieted the cacophonous parliament hall. Zarif has spent most of his adult life in the United States as a student and later as a diplomat. This by itself makes him suspect. He did not serve in the Iran-Iraq War even though he was at age for military service at the time. Among other things, he was accused of being educated in the West, meeting with American diplomats and Iranian civil society activists who reside in the US and even suspiciously losing a briefcase that included important documents while he was there. In short, he was portrayed as a man who lost his soul in the West. What Zarif said was not as important as the way he broke apart that image.

Many in the US have heard him publicly speak in English, which he is very good at, but neither the MPs nor the Iranian public had heard him give a speech in Persian. And they had never seen him recite so many Qoranic verses! But Zarif’s speech on Tuesday seamlessly combined expertise and religious rhetoric. In a rather blunt way, he also pushed backed against the accusations that were hurled against him. He reminded the MPs that the previous government had forced him into retirement at the age of 47 and even made teaching difficult for him but that he had not left the country in more than 6 years even for teaching opportunities that had arisen elsewhere. His body language, voice and speech-content confirmed that he was as much of a stakeholder in the Islamic Republic as those who were judging him and that he had every right to be the foreign minister of a president whose promises of a foreign policy involving both expertise and moderation aided his election. Zarif also made clear that the power of Iran’s foreign policy rests on the electorate’s popular confidence in their government at home. As I already mentioned, Zarif’s performance was so stunning that it quieted the Majles chamber — the only time this happened during the hearings.

A noteworthy loss

Another important speech was given by Mohammad Ali Najafi, Rouhani’s nominee for the Ministry of Education. Again, the contrast between his speech and demeanor and the accusations leveled against him was something to behold. His pushback was also telling. Najafi was accused of meeting the families of protestors who died in 2009, to which he essentially responded with: I went to see the aggrieved families in my capacity as a member of the Tehran City Council, which would have been unnecessary if you guys had done your job of at least comforting them.

Although Najafi failed to receive the required number of votes for confirmation, the yay votes outnumbered the nays and a one-vote switch would have made him the cabinet minister. This situates him as an important advisor or a candidate for other posts if he desires them.

Beyond this, Najafi’s near confirmation turned into an argument for some Tehrani voters. Had they not mostly abstained in the 2012 parliamentary election and, ignoring reformist disqualifications and disarray, voted for a moderate conservative slate — which did exist — Najafi would have been the education minister today. The leader of that moderate conservative slate — Ali Mottahari — was the only one who made it into Parliament in 2012 and was a key organizer of votes for the Rouhani cabinet. One more deputy from that slate — which was possible with more participation — would have made a small but important difference in the scheme of things. Of course, yesterday that difference didn’t appear as small to the many teachers who were hoping for Najafi’s successful appointment.

Several blunt exchanges involving the intelligence and judiciary ministries should also be listened to by anyone trying to understand the tensions and polarizations of today’s Iran. The focal point of these tensions is based on issues related to human and civil rights, dignity and the operation of Iran’s surveillance state.

Rouhani’s position

In his closing speech, Rouhani laid out his argument for how to leave behind or at least lessen the deep rifts that resulted from the 2009 election. He argued for an acknowledgment that both sides had made mistakes. He did this by mentioning two words in one sentence: Kahrizak and orduskeshi. He said both were mistakes, giving them equivalency.

Kahrizak is the prison in which many of Iran’s 2009 protesters were abused and several were killed. Ordukeshi is the word used by the Leader to negatively describe the 2009 protests. Instead of acknowledging the constitutionally protected right to peaceful protests, the term frames the events as something the losers of the election illegitimately did by turning the electoral competition into street confrontations. Rouhani surely knows that this is a highly offensive term to many people who voted for him particularly in the city of Tehran, in which protests lasted much longer than the rest of the country.

By saying that mistakes were made in both Kahrizad Prison and by ordukeshi, Rouhani’s message seemed clear: rightly or wrongly, neither side can play the game of political righteousness. Stop asking each other for apologies, which will not be forthcoming from either side; learn to live with this reality. Let’s just move on based on the premise that the time for the continuation of the purge game is over because it is a dangerous game to play when the country is in dire need of civil interactions in the face of external pressures. This was not moral posturing; it was a plea for all to search for their pragmatic side.

These words can only be taken as serious advice if there is some movement on the front of reintegrating those who were purged because of the events of 2009, which will be a challenge for Rouhani. The ministerial confirmation of several former advisors to Mir Hossein Mousavi, who is still under house arrest, is a step in that direction. But it is not enough even if public tolerance for gradualism and moderation — and taking things slowly — seems relatively high at the moment.

Photo Credit: Amir Kholousi