The Iranian Revolt

(Posted by Rich Lowry on NRO-The Corner and reposted in full by me]

John O'Sullivan wrote me this note today.

Dear Rich,
Thanks for your note. I am happy to give you my judgment on the Iranian revolt. In brief, it’s one of the most important movements of our time. It radically undermines both the realist argument that Muslims are uninterested in democracy and the Jihadist claim to represent the mass of Muslims. And if it continues—whether it is crushed or triumphs in the immediate future—it will add immeasurably to the forces of evolutionary change in the Muslim world since it strikes me as being more like the Glorious, American and “velvet” revolutions (i.e., it is a revolution against a radical revolution) than like the French, Bolshevik, and 1979 revolutions.
Well, that’s a bigger mouthful than you expected. But this is an issue on which I would prefer you to take the advice and opinions of my Iranian colleagues on Radio Farda and the English language website of RFERL. So I am attaching two documents below that I think you will find helpful.

The first is a private e-mail form my senior colleague, Abbas Djavadi, a former head of Farda and now the Associate Director for the service as a whole. I had asked him to predict what might now happen. Here is his reply (which I quote with permission) from a hurried discussion yesterday:

Defiance? Definitely, but I don't know for how long. Nobody says it loudly but everybody understands this is about the Supreme Leader and not only Ahmadinejad. Yesterday after Khamenei's speech I thought they would back off. Today in the morning I thought it may be primarily students. This afternoon surprised me. Not only students, not only Tehran. Maybe Mousavi has been pushed up as opposition leader against will. He had the motivation for it for the last 20 years when he kept away from government. He seems to be emboldened now, seeing the masses and the ripening of something in the society, in "masses" and in most big cities.

I wish I could know if it would continue and how. I think nobody knows. I am seeing here two big issues, based on what I am hearing and reading the live inputs and feedback from the "foot soldiers":

1) Mousavi has to further establish himself as a popular leader. Today he again said he has prayed to God that he is ready for martyrdom, sign of strengthened resolve. He needs support from more, hundreds of thousands and millions of middle and upper classes (villagers never attended the Islamic revolution 1979, workers joined just in the last few months of the revolution, middle class did it with a bit upper classes). Bazaris, for example, teachers, doctors, vendors, municipality workers, mid-level state employees, lawyers... And the most important: he needs to get more support from moderate or other clergymen opposed to Khamenei and Ahmadinejad — people who have been critical, but have rarely spoken out. If we have that trend growing in the next few weeks and months, we will have a new ball game in Iran. If not, the resistance will gradually fade out while reprisals intensify.

2) Security and organization as well as communication of the opposition leaders (Mousavi and Karroubi). Today and last weeks were typical. Will they join the demonstrations? Are the meetings cancelled? There were hundreds of conflicting news, information and disinformation until it really happened. And it happened, mainly thanks to the websites, Facebook and Twitter. 20 years ago it would be unimaginable. But the communication is distorted and disorganized. Security for the leading figures is also extremely important. What if Mousavi just disappeared? (detained, under strict house arrest) etc.? Khomeini in 1978 had the security provided to him in Paris and his big group of executives in Europe instructing his army of mullahs inside Iran what to do and how to lead the movement. In the case of Mousavi, once he is out of the country, he would be disregarded and would play no role after a year or so at all. [Yet] staying safe in Iran while the movement is intensifying is a contradiction per se. And we don't have any relieving indications that they are well organized. That's also bad. Things may change and would change if both the defiance continues and if the leadership grows together with the defiance.

That is the judgment of a shrewd and experienced observer of Iranian politics.

The second item, just below, is the most recent in a series of letters from Tehran by one of the many opposition protesters. Much of the time the Western media has to post items that cannot be confirmed. I’m not criticizing this. We all have to do it in these circumstances and, provided we are absolutely candid with our readers and listeners, they can judge the worth and reliability of such reports. But our services are fortunate in having ordinary Iranians whom we know and trust to keep us informed in very vivid personal accounts. The writer below is one. I think you’ll be impressed by what he writes.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

“Maryamo gereftan, rooznamaro bastan…(Maryam has been arrested, the newspaper has been closed, there are guards everywhere, don’t come to work, there is no more work) screamed Hooman on the phone and he hung up. This was a rude awakening. The mobile phones were still working so I called Jaleh and asked her if she was going to attend today’s rally. “mage dishab javabe mardomo be rahbar nashnidi?....” (didn’t you hear people’s reply to the leader? Didn’t you go to the rooftop and did’nt you scream Allah Akbar (God is great)? asked Jaleh as if she knew all of the answers before hand and then in a sarcastic remark she said “vasiatnamato benevis, saate 3:30 Daneshgaah Tehran, bia ghadam dar raahe be baazgasht bogzarim..” (write your will, 3:30pm in front of Tehran University, lets step into the path of no return, no turning back, no turning back….”

Black Army

I had lunch with Jaleh and Hooman in Farahzaad (North West of Tehran) and decided to park the car near Azadi square and take a taxi back to Enghelaab square in order to be able to get out of the way in case there were a disturbance. As we reached Azadi avenue (coming south from Yadegar Highway) we saw that the whole area looking like a big fort. “hameye doostan jam-an” (all of our friends have gathered) murmured Hooman as he looked at the “armed-to-the-teeth” group of “anti-riot” Police, plain clothed militia, black Sarallah force, Basij paramilitary forces and the Police. We parked the car to the north of the street near a highway exit. “colt, tofang, gase ashkavar, gase felfel, tofang loole kootah,… mesle inke darim mirim mehmoonee bache ha”( Hand guns, sharp shooter riffles, short barrel riffles, tear gas, paint ball guns, pepper spray, boy we are going to a party)said Jaleh sarcastically. There was no news from Maryam and the mobile phones went dead at 3:15 pm

Dogs of war

We started our march somewhere close to the Tehran University. Near the gates of the University the “Dogs of war” (including all of the militia, police, guards, sarrallah, plain cloth paramilitary,..) pushed people to the south side of the street beating anyone near the gate and we found out why as Hooman (who is about six feet tall) reported to us “daneshjoo haa daran shoar midan,…” (the university students are chanting behind the gate and the dogs are standing right outside the gate) he reported. We saw about 100 guards in black armors that looked like a full blown Japanese Samurai army facing the gates of Tehran University which was and is a symbol of defiance (the picture of people demonstrating under the gates of Tehran University are printed on some money notes). By the time we got to Enghelab square tension was mounting. People were walking in small groups of five without chanting and without showing off any colors. But all that changed at 4:10pm right after we passed the Jamalzadeh avenue (west of enghelaab square towards Azadi square) as the small groups of people slowly joined each other automatically.

“Natarsim, Natarsim Maa hame ba ham hastim”

4:20 pm

A short figured girl who was walking next to me reached in her purse took out a green wristband and then raised her hands up in the air with a Victory sign. We all followed and the crowed automatically became a quiet and defiant freedom seeker band; “be tarafe azadi..” (towards Freedom) Hooman said aloud in a muffled bass voice. Azadi means freedom in Persian so towards Azadi can mean either going towards Azadi square or going towards freedom. His voice was horse from nights of chanting “Allah Akbar” on the rooftops. The guards had all things planned and they stopped us in front of the Dampezeshki University (Veterinary University). They actually blocked us from the front, back and from the streets. So we pushed ourselves into the street and then the war started. The evil guards charged towards us and scream replaced the victory signs. Jaleh, Hooman and I held each others hands as the wild dogs attacked and the people scrambled and fell over each other. Within seconds they reached us and they were swiping people up their feet with clubs, chains, and some innovative black rubber piece (that looked like a short water hose). We hid behind Hooman but he was hit on the leg and fell on top of us, Jaleh was hit on her face and I fell on my right ankle. Screams and yells were everywhere and we were at first very scared but it seems that the fear disappears after the first hit. People started chanting “Natarsim, natarsim maa hame ba ham hastim” (we are not afraid cause we are united).

If you want blood, you got it

5:00 pm Tehran is officially a war zone

Our peaceful demonstration quickly turned into a riot. Charges by the guards and return favors of the people quickly got out of hand. Jaleh, Hooman and I just joined the flow and we were attacked three times by the time we got to Navab avenue. Blood was everywhere. Right after Navab avenue the guards started firing tear gas into the crowed and boy did that hurt. As all three of us escaped into a small street choking from the gas the guards attacked us from behind and we all got hit on the back by many painful things. I looked back and saw a young man fell on the ground, I screamed “khodaaaaaaa” (God), Hooman quickly ran towards him and the three of us carried him to a corner. He was hit on the head and his eyes were rolled up and could not comprehend anything. Young people started throwing stones back towards the guards and charged back towards them and this gave us a bit of time to take the young man to a corner and try to help him. Jaleh is a nurse so she started treating him, I held his head on my lap and Hooman held his legs high in order to get the blood circulation back to his head. We did not care what was going on around us for a moment and just wanted to revive the young man who seemed to be only 18 years old. “esmet chieye?” (What is your name?) I asked him trying to make him talk in order to find out if he can concentrate. He sat up, shrugged us off and started to walk again. I yelled “esmet chiye?” (what is your name?); “Omid” (Omid is a name and it also means hope) he said and marched on towards Azadi. None of us could keep up with Omid as we were all hit on the leg and were limping. Also we could not see things clearly and our eyes were burning (because of the tear gas) badly so we lost sight of Omid for a couple of minutes.

Bee gheirat

5:30 pm, the battle zone

“Ely………….., Hooman,….. bodoeen, Omid…” screamed Jaleh. The police and plain clothed militia had cornered Omid and were beating him. We ran towards him and attacked the dogs. Hooman charged towards the guards in the street, opened his arms wide and with his operatic bas voice screamed “Bezan, Bezan,..(hit me, hit me), maadar gh.. bezan (mother xxx hit me). The guard raised the club but his hands were shaking and then brought his club down. I arched over Omid as Jaleh was screaming “bee gheirat” (a man without virtue) and people started chanting “bee gheirat” to the guards and the police. I felt the burning on my back as I tried to shield Omid, he was crying “man faghat mikhaam beram khooneh (I just wanna go home). They were hitting me hard, my hands, and my legs and suddenly there was darkness as I felt a terrible pain on the back of my head and the sounds and vision blurred into oblivion.

Go west my dear

Time unknown

“baba,…kojaee, kojaeey ke bebini dokhtare azizeto mikoshan..”(Daddy where are you? they are killing your dear little girl) was the sound circling in the sea of darkness. “Ely,…Ely,..Ely” Jaleh as whispering as she was spraying water on my face. We were in my car speeding away from the war zone, cars, busses, trash cans and motorbikes were on fire, stones were flying in the sky. Tear gas canisters were flying with a white trail behind them, gun shots were heard. I looked out of the car window and for the first time I had tears in my eyes. “maa gharar bood berim Azadi, pas kojaa mirim?” (we were supposed to go to Azadi, freedom, where are we going?) I muttered. “felan har jaaee begheir az injaa..” (for now anywhere but here) Hooman turned back his head towards me, dried blood on his right shoulder and with a glaze in his hazel eyes said again “for now, of course..."