I’ve been reading with considerable interest the revelations and insights of Nicholas Kristof, the New York Times columnist, as he has been journeying around Iran. His theme: If we can avoid an Iran-West war, there’s a good chance Iranians will be surprisingly accommodating. From his perspective, Iran and the non-hardliner majority can be dealt with. For all of its axis of evilness and uranium-enrichment fixation, Iran is not some consummate infidel-hating, dysfunctional “stan” country, let alone a total rogue misfit like North Korea.
It caused me to reflect back a dozen years and my own experience in Iran, and I absolutely get what Kristof is saying. To know a nation and a people only through the filtered lens of the American media and international geopolitics is to court collective ignorance. I traveled there with a contingent of the Friendship Force, a non-political organization that fosters friendship among private citizens worldwide. It was founded more than 30 years ago by former President Jimmy Carter.
Except for a few dyspeptic mullahs in Qom, the center of religious instruction, we were met with uniform curiosity, friendliness and even graciousness. Lots of salaam exchanges. Many Iranians seemed flattered that some Americans cared enough to see their country first hand.
What’s important to remember about Iranians, and more than half of them are under age 25, is that they are proudly Persian with an appreciation for literacy and higher education. Its university enrollment is more than half female. Iran, which was officially called Persia until 1935, is the only country invaded by Arabs that retained its language–Farsi–and culture.
Two incidents in particular are still with me because it underscored a sense of identification that transcended decidedly different cultural norms. A wink-and-nod acknowledgement that all is not necessarily as it seems.
At the Tehran Airport we were given a briefing by a government official. Here’s how he put it: “You must remember that there is no alcohol available here. It is forbidden. Not in the hotel. Not in restaurants…But if you can find it somewhere…What you do in your room is your business.”
And it had other applications. We would later learn that the high-rent district of North Tehran still existed–and the worst-kept secret was that you would likely find foreign videos, stylish ensembles, chic coiffures and open bars very much the cloistered rage behind closed doors–where the West was more venerated than vilified.
A well-worn Iranian joke is illustrative. An archetypal, fundamentalist, vigilante sort is asked how the Islamic Revolution has impacted his life. He answers: “Very little,” and explains: “Before the Revolution I got drunk in public and prayed in private. Now I pray in public and get drunk at home.”
The other example is the commentary of a well-traveled businessman, Akbar Heshani, from Isfahan. “First of all, I think America is a great country, and I love Americans,” he said. “I think a lot of Iranians would say the same thing. But I don’t think a lot of Americans handle their freedoms with responsibility.
“I know this seems repressive to Americans, but we don’t want your excesses,” he added. “But as for our young people, who weren’t around for the Revolution, I think they would like some excess. I guess all young people do.”
Indeed.