The Modern Middle East - A Political History Since World War I (Third Edition)

by Mehran Kamrava

  Broadly, the regime’s opponents and thus the leaders of the revolution could be divided into four groups. The first group was made up of the two nonregime political parties that had been banned in the mid-1950s but had continued to exist clandestinely, the National Front and the communist Tudeh Party. The National Front was organized by Musaddiq out of a coalition of smaller parties that were mostly to the left and/or center of the political spectrum.36 By the time of the 1978–79 revolution, only a few of the original leaders of the National Front remained, most others having either retired or passed away. Nevertheless, the memory of Musaddiq and what the National Front stood for made it popular among a significant group of middle-class Iranians. The same was true of the Tudeh (literally, “masses”), although the party’s overtly pro-Soviet posture did not sit well with the nationalist sensibilities of many urban Iranians. The Tudeh had fared worse than the National Front after the 1953 coup, with many of its members rounded up and executed and others in self-imposed exile abroad. As an astute observer of the party has noted, by the late 1950s the Tudeh was a shadow of its former self.37 By the late 1970s, even the impending death of the Pahlavi state did not go a long way toward reviving the once-impressive party.

  A second group of the regime’s opponents was made up of two guerrilla organizations, the Mujahedeen-e Khalq, whose ideology was a blend of Islam and socialism, and the Fedayeen-e Khalq, who were Maoist in doctrine and orientation. Both of these organizations were set up by younger individuals from middle-class backgrounds—primarily university students—who were disenchanted with the inactivity of the Tudeh and the National Front and wanted, in their separate ways, to spark a revolutionary movement. The Mujahedeen were formed in 1965 and the Fedayeen in 1971. At different times and independently of each other, both groups had come to the conclusion that the Land Reform Program had effectively neutralized the “revolutionary potential” of the peasantry. As a result, they needed to concentrate their efforts in the cities in order to “dispel the police atmosphere” pervading the country’s urban centers.38 From there, it was thought, the revolution would spread to the countryside and would eventually engulf the entire country.

  Despite their theoretical aspirations, before the late 1970s neither guerrilla group was able to foster the revolutionary conditions it had hoped for. The efficiency and brutality of the SAVAK had proved a major hindrance; at one point the Mujahedeen had even been penetrated by agents of the secret police.39 Each party also had the serious problem of getting its message heard by a wider audience. Not only did the regime’s repressiveness make this all but impossible, but the parties’ muddled and alien ideologies—with subtle or overt references to socialism (read, atheism)—did not sit well with a majority of Iranians. Devoid of any popular ideological resonance among the people, the most the two organizations could do was to engage in hit-and-run attacks on targets associated with the Pahlavis. On occasion they would rob a bank, attack an American military adviser, or throw Molotov cocktails at the offices of the Israeli Cultural Center.40 But these attacks did little to spark a people’s revolution. The revolution that did come arrived on its own, the result of a people acting at their own behest and not inspired by the heroics of the guerrilla activists.

  The third group opposing the Pahlavi state was made up of independent intellectuals who did not necessarily belong to any of the political parties or the guerrilla organizations. A majority of these individuals came from academia or were writers, poets, or journalists. These were men like Jalal Al-e Ahmad, a writer whose celebrated work Weststruckness (Gharbzadegi) poignantly exposed middle-class Iranians’ fascination with all things Western.41 Another intellectual in the same mold was Ali Shariati, a sociology professor whose occasional public lectures on Islamic modernism riveted and excited those who could hear him.42 Also notable was Mehdi Bazargan, another academic and an old Musaddiq collaborator, who wrote critically on the general state of Iranian society.

  The direct contributions of these and other independent intellectuals to the revolutionary cause, like those of the guerrilla organizations, were minimal. Both Al-e Ahmad and Shariati had passed away long before the disturbances, and most of the other intellectuals who actively opposed the Pahlavi state did so from abroad. Also, again like the guerrillas, the intellectuals had the simple problem of communication. How to communicate with a mass of people suspicious of and unreceptive to grand theories, and to do so in an atmosphere of stifling police repression? Nevertheless, the main contribution of these and other intellectuals of the time was to give currency to a trend of thought best described as political Islam. Through a general revitalization and reformulation of Islamic and Shiʿite precepts, these intellectuals hoped to better equip religion to address the problems of modern society and politics. In sum, most Iranian intellectuals contributed to the revolution indirectly by helping articulate and spread what turned out to be a “theology of discontent.”43

  The fourth group of regime opponents consisted of the clerics, or at least those of them who had not opted for ascetic quietism or been co-opted by the regime. The clergy, of course, were far from a monolithic group and included men with a variety of political dispositions. But clerics who opposed the regime enjoyed some unique advantages. The pulpit of the mosque gave them relative immunity from the wrath of the SAVAK and bestowed on them a measure of popular authority. Many filled their sermons with double-talk that could be interpreted as either purely religious or highly political. Most important, the central role of mosques as popular social institutions and gathering places afforded clerics a ready and highly receptive audience with whom they could communicate in a language both easily understandable and emotionally compelling. The number of mosque-goers swelled especially after 1975, when the slump in the construction industry prompted more and more unemployed construction workers and other recent arrivals from the countryside to attend religious services with greater frequency. This resulted in the establishment of a crucial and highly effective nexus between the oppositional clerics and a mass of disenchanted, easily mobilizable Iranians. As riots and strikes became more and more frequent, the clerics were in a perfect position to emerge on top and ride the crest of the revolutionary movement.

  Meanwhile, Rouhollah Khomeini, the old ayatollah who back in 1963 had opposed the shah’s White Revolution and had been exiled in Iraq, again started to call for the Pahlavis’ overthrow. This time, however, he was not speaking to an isolated group of individuals. By now the whole nation was in turmoil, and Khomeini’s revolutionary rhetoric suited the tenor of the times. Other clerics inside the country started echoing his sermons, and those unable to attend mosques could hear recordings of his speeches on cassette tapes. The “revolution” was not only gathering steam but, more ominously for the Pahlavi state, also acquiring a symbol in the person of Ayatollah Khomeini. Before long, even average Iranians started to refer to Khomeini as the Imam, a title of tremendous symbolic value for the Shiʿite masses. In a desperate attempt to discredit Khomeini by exposing his archaic views to the world, the shah asked the Iraqi government to expel him from the southern Iraqi city of Najaf, and the ayatollah and his expanding entourage relocated to a suburb of Paris. Ironically, when the Western media and expatriate Iranians flocked to the cleric’s modest home, they were disarmed by the simplicity and appeal of his revolutionary message and the firmness of his resolve. A number of Western-educated Iranians became his spokespersons and his collaborators, and together they set out to lead what had by now become a revolution of historic proportions. The shah could now do little but frantically react to circumstances outside his control. His reactions, in hindsight, helped him little.

  The end for the Pahlavis came in the early weeks of 1979. In a desperate attempt to keep his state and his whole dynasty from collapsing, from 1977 on the shah appointed and fired a series of prime ministers with unprecedented frequency. As a final move, he turned to an old figure in the National Front, Shapour Bakhtiar, a man with impeccable oppositional credentials who wa
s still loyal to the monarchical system. He then hurriedly left Iran on January 18, 1979, for “medical” reasons. By now, millions of Iranians were pouring into the streets on a daily basis, demanding the abolition of the monarchy, the death of the shah, and the return of Khomeini. Bakhtiar could do little. The army, once among the most powerful in the world, was disintegrating at a rate of one thousand to twelve hundred desertions a day.44 Khomeini returned to Iran on February 1, greeted by an estimated one million jubilant people who lined the streets of Tehran to welcome him back. On February 11, a group of technicians in an air base located at the heart of the capital mutinied against the Pahlavi regime, and Bakhtiar’s orders to military commanders the following day to bombard the air base were ignored. Instead, the commanders went into hiding. The shah’s massive army had collapsed. Bakhtiar also went into hiding. The revolution had succeeded. Power now was in the hands of the people, and their leader was Imam Khomeini.

  Figure 11. Ayatollah Khomeini, leader of Iran’s Islamic revolution. Corbis.

  IRAN’S THREE REPUBLICS

  Following the collapse of the monarchy, it was natural for Iranian revolutionaries to want to establish a republic, which, in the popular psyche at least, was seen as synonymous with democracy. That the new system would be republican was certain; the controversy revolved around the precise type of republic to be adopted. The emergence of Islam as the primary vehicle for the revolution made it almost inevitable that religion would play a role in the postrevolutionary system. The heightened religious sensibilities of Iranians because of the revolutionary odyssey also made the postrevolutionary marriage of religion and politics not only palatable but desirable. But the revolution had not started out as singularly religious, and it did have early inheritors who wanted to reap its benefits in a secular environment. In any event, Ayatollah Khomeini, who had now emerged as the undisputed “Imam” of millions of Iranians, prevailed, seeing to it that the incoming republic was in every way “Islamic.” On March 30 and 31, 1979, a historic referendum was held in which Iranians were asked to answer a simple question: “Should Iran be an Islamic republic?” Some 98.2 percent of the more than twenty million ballots cast answered in the affirmative. The Islamic Republic of Iran was therefore established.

  The Islamic Republic has had three phases, or, more aptly, it has really been three republics. The First, Second, and Third Republics roughly correspond, respectively, to the eras of postrevolutionary consolidation, construction, and factional infighting. The First Republic lasted from its inception in 1979 until the conclusion of Iran’s war with its neighbor Iraq in July 1988. This was by far the most radical phase in the evolution of the postrevolutionary system. Domestically, the First Republic witnessed the steady and often ruthless narrowing of political space brought on by the elimination of the “revolution’s enemies,” many of whom had once been Khomeini’s close collaborators. Internationally, the Islamic Republic shocked the world and incurred isolation and condemnation by holding U.S. diplomats hostage for 444 days and refusing to accept repeated cease-fire offers from Baghdad until 1988.

  The Second Republic, by contrast, was one of reconstruction and relative moderation. Ayatollah Khomeini’s death in June 1989 gave greater maneuverability to revolutionaries who were eager to open Iran to the outside world and to give substance to their vision of a modern Islamic state. The Second Republic lasted only eight years, however, and in 1997 was replaced by the Third Republic, one in which deep fissures within the ruling elite became apparent. By its very nature the Third Republic is bound to be impermanent as it features profound disagreements at the highest levels of the system over the ideological underpinnings of the Islamic Republic state and its relations with society. Only time will tell what ultimate shape the state will take, and what the outcome will be of the evolution of Iran’s revolution.

  The First Republic got off to a rocky start. During this time, the postrevolutionary leadership consolidated itself forcefully and brutally, eliminating rivals one by one and, in the process, giving shape to its vision of the new social, political, and economic orders. In this phase, the revolution’s victors set out to institutionalize their powers, a task in which they succeeded on a variety of fronts, ranging from creating a political party to dominating the Majles, then the presidency, and eventually, through extensive purges, the bureaucracy and the military. Whoever disagreed or refused to toe the “Imam’s line” was accused of being a “counter-revolutionary,” a “monarchist,” a lackey of “the Great Satan,” or, worse yet, a “hypocrite” (munafiq). The regime that emerged was highly authoritarian, a self-appointed guardian of Islam and public morality, and, as it turned out, highly resilient. Initially, most of its opponents were not easily brushed aside or suppressed, and the regime suffered some truly devastating blows resulting from the assassination of some of its highest-ranking leaders. But Khomeini and his increasingly small inner circle persevered through it all and, at the expense of many former comrades, eventually prevailed. The First Republic was clearly built on and sustained by a reign of terror.

  The postrevolutionary experience had started out very differently in the days and weeks immediately following the monarchy’s collapse. The demise of Pahlavi authoritarianism unleashed popular energies that had been pent up since the early 1950s. The initial absence of effective central authority ushered in a temporary era of anarchy and lawlessness. Most institutions of the state had already collapsed or were about to collapse, and new ones had not yet emerged to replace them. Thus many people took the law into their own hands, emboldened by the estimated three hundred thousand weapons they had acquired in the monarchy’s final days.45 The revolutionary government’s repeated pleas to people to turn in their weapons met with little success. In the Revolutionary Committees, called the Komiteh, that sprang up in all neighborhoods and districts, young men with little previous experience gave themselves responsibilities for traffic control, policing, arresting monarchists, fighting other “counter-revolutionaries,” and enforcing the revolution’s new morality. The provisional government, to which Khomeini had appointed the longtime National Front activist Mehdi Bazargan, was too moderate in temperament and disposition to cope with the revolutionary tempo of the times. Bazargan’s cabinet could not even stop the summary justice being meted out by the Revolutionary Courts, as a result of which some sixty-eight people were executed after speedy “revolutionary trials.”46

  The fate of Bazargan’s cabinet ended up being decided in the streets. Daily street demonstrations had become a fact of life, with each faction in the revolutionary struggle taking its cause to the streets to express itself and to impress others with its show of strength. Real power lay in the streets, and increasingly, thanks to the efforts of club-wielding ruffians calling themselves members of the Party of God, the Hezbollahis, the street listened only to Khomeini. Passions remained too inflamed and the excitement of the revolution too fresh for the country’s political rhythm to assume any semblance of normalcy. But the stakes were too high for Khomeini to let control slip away now, and he had to ensure that he remained the revolution’s undisputed leader.

  Meanwhile, the deposed shah and his royal entourage were flying from one host country to another in a desperate effort to find a suitable place of exile. Upon leaving Iran, the royals spent some time in Morocco but were encouraged to move on when King Hassan, who had his own domestic difficulties, grew concerned about hosting a deposed monarch. There had always been influential Americans who thought it shameful for the United States not to stand by its old friend in difficult times. Many, in fact, started pressing the Carter administration to allow the shah into the United States to receive medical treatment for his recently disclosed cancer. But the Carter administration had viewed the ensuing diplomatic fallout and the potential dangers to American citizens in Iran as too great to allow the shah’s entry into the United States.47 Nevertheless, the shah’s friends, chief among them former secretary of state Henry Kissinger and the influential David Rockefeller, were
relentless. From Morocco the shah moved to the Bahamas but eventually had to relocate when his security and privacy there could no longer be guaranteed.48 Next came Mexico, where the shah spent most of summer 1979, as his friends pressured Washington to let the dying ex-king receive medical care in a New York hospital. They finally succeeded, and on October 23 the shah was allowed to travel to New York, where he was operated on at New York Hospital the next day. All along, the Carter administration was worried about the reaction of both the revolutionary government and the excited masses in Tehran. These fears turned out to be justified.

  Two weeks after the shah’s arrival in New York, on November 4, one of the street demonstrations in Tehran took an unexpected turn. Mindful of the CIA’s role in installing the shah back in power in 1953, some of the demonstrators scaled the walls of the U.S. embassy and took its staff hostage. Everyone—from U.S. policy makers in Washington to members of Bazargan’s cabinet, the hostages, and even the attackers themselves—expected the whole episode to last no more than a day or two. A similar event had occurred the preceding February, and the Iranian authorities had quickly reined in the demonstrators and given assurances of increased security for the U.S. embassy and its staff. This time, however, the takeover was to last 444 days.