As the gulf between hardliners and the rest of society
continues to widen, remarkable belligerence is being shown by
reformist newspapers, dissidents, politicians and young
people, Borzou Daraghi reports from Teheran
It has started again. In Pasdaran Square one night last
week, the rough, bearded men - the Basiji militia - were out
in full force, looking inside cars for unmarried couples.
Two weeks ago in Vanak Square - a popular hangout for young
people as well as prostitutes and their customers - police
began roughing up youngsters and women and loading them into
police vehicles. This time the youths, armed with greater
numbers, fought back with their fists, and a near-riot ensued.
'It was crazy,' said Saeed, a 24-year-old gypsy cab driver
who came upon the scene. 'I thought to myself, 'It's going to
be a long summer'.'
Following years of relaxation of the Islamic Republic's
infamous social restrictions, authorities have begun cracking
down again in recent weeks on signs of Western decadence.
Semi-official Islamic fundamentalist morality enforcers who
answer only to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the
conservatives' leader, have redeployed on the streets of the
city of 12 million over the past three or four weeks,
witnesses say.
The crackdown comes amid yet another attempt by the
hardline judiciary to muzzle the country's press, this time
over the issue of restoring ties with the United States.
But as the gulf between hardliners and the rest of Iranian
society continues to widen, the most remarkable aspect of the
current battles in Iran's long-running political and cultural
war between reformists and conservatives may not be the
belligerence of the hardliners, but of their intended victims:
reformist newspapers, dissidents, politicians and young
people.
'Threats of imprisonment and intimidation of the people
when they criticise you do not become you,' Muhammad Mohsen
Sazgara, a co-founder of the ultra-conservative Revolutionary
Guards but now a leading reformist, wrote in a recent letter
to Ayatollah Khamenei.
'This is the style of evil rulers and cruel kings. Let us
not forget that we are all followers of the Prophet, who said,
'The best jihad is saying words of truth to an evil ruler'.'
There are many signs that a long, hot summer in Iran's
cultural and political wars is under way. Just as the
thermostat has risen, newscasters have been warning women to
dress more modestly, a message to young women who wear
skimpier headscarves and overcoats with each passing day.
Once again, authorities have begun stopping cars and
questioning young people, who make up 60 per cent of Iran's
population.
Once again, they have begun breaking up parties in private
homes. Mohammad Khordadian, a popular Los Angeles-based
Iranian-American dancer, has been locked up for three weeks in
Evin Prison after he was arrested in the airport on his way
back to the US.
He was charged with 'inciting and encouraging corruption
among young people', according to the newspaper Iran.
The authorities have even confiscated Barbie dolls from toy
shops. Locally produced Dara and Sara national dolls, dressed
in traditional costumes, have taken their place.
The cultural crackdown comes during a high-pitched
political battle over the issue of restoring ties with the US.
A reformist block of politicians, led by President Mohammad
Khatami, has urged a normalisation of ties with the US in
order to help attract and retain foreign investment and
alleviate the country's spiralling unemployment, officially at
14 per cent but unofficially at 20 per cent.
Conservatives, led by Ayatollah Khamenei, who controls
Iran's military, judiciary and intelligence apparatuses, say
they oppose resuming ties with the US, officially severed
following the 1979-80 taking of hostages at the US Embassy in
Teheran.
On editorial pages and on the floor of the Majlis, a lively
debate has ensued. After Nowrouz, a reformist daily, reported
that hardliners had recently held secret talks with US
officials, the conservative judiciary took the extraordinary
step of ordering a muzzling of all public discussion about
restoring ties with the US.
But it was to no avail. The newspapers shot back defiantly,
all but ignoring the judiciary's order to shut up and
answering back in kind.
'To forbid society officially to express opinions on any
issue has a clear meaning, and will have negative effects on
society,' wrote Nowrouz.
On the floor of the Majlis, the Iranian parliament, Elaheh
Koulai, a reformist legislator, called the judiciary's order
'a step towards despotic behaviour'.
Indeed, reformist Iranian legislators have made a recent
habit of quick, scathing responses. After Ali Emami-Rad, a
hardline parliamentarian, accused a colleague of being an
'American spy' and a 'communist', he was shouted down as a
'fascist' and told to 'shut up', according to Irna, Iran's
official news agency.
The only person who seems to have buckled to the
conservatives is Mr Khatami, the reformist president swept to
power in 1997 and 2001 on the strength of his appeal to young
people and women.
He gave a speech late last week urging his fellow
reformists to give up the struggle to restore ties with the
US. His supporters have already been disillusioned by his
refusal to fight the conservatives more vigorously.
Unemployment continues to climb, wages continue to stagnate
and costs to rise. The country desperately needs foreign
investment, and the goodwill of the US may be the key.
But with his waffling on the US issue, Mr Khatami is sure
to push more of his supporters away from the official
political process and towards the cultural arena.
Despite a ban on alcohol and threat of a whipping for all
those caught with liquor, cans of beer are on sale at many
grocery stores.
Despite the ban on men and women dancing together, wild
lascivious parties abound.
And despite the crackdown and the warnings, the streets of
Teheran on Thursday night, the beginning of the Iranian
weekend, were alive with music and the tooting of car horns.
