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Al-Ahram Weekly 17 - 23 February 2000 Issue No. 469 
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Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Al-Ahram Weekly 17 - 23 February 2000 Issue No. 469
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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The entire world will be looking at Iran tomorrow when it holds its parliamentary elections, which are likely to determine the future of the country's reform programme. Reporting from Tehran, Azadeh Moaveni looks at some of the main figures and groups making up the country's political scene
Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Features Focus Profile Travel Living Sports People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters Reform in a time of disillusionment
President Khatami and the sixth Majlis to be elected tomorrow must deal with the same host of problems that confront the country's women and young people
President Muhammad Khatami owes his 1997 election to support from women and young people. Frustrated with the existing social conditions, they threw their collective support behind a political unknown and sat back patiently, knowing it might take him a while to transform their popular endorsement into tangible progress. Two and a half years later, the president may be perfectly honest when he explains why his hands are tied by the conservatives' power over structures of government that matter. The problem with Khatami's young supporters is that the very qualities that draw them to the president -- their ambitions and idealism -- tend to make them impatient and easily disillusioned.
The same is true of progressive-minded women, who expected their presence in the reformist movement to make their rights one if its priorities. The chief achievement of Khatami's presidency has been the emergence of a lively, liberal press, which agitates for official accountability and sets the tone for the social debate on the government that is so imperative to Khatami's vision of civil society. This press works in tandem with reformists in government and the clergy, but its most outspoken personalities are men and, ultimately, its presence does not suffice for either women or the young, who expect changes that will alleviate their problems.
This sentiment does not vary across social classes. In a hosseiniyeh (Shi'ite religious hall) in the working-class district of Shahr-Ray, the southernmost tip of Tehran, a mother and daughter sit cross-legged in a dusty corner, waiting for the president's brother, Reza Khatami, to speak. They peer sceptically at Khatami, whose suave good looks and mobile phone are absurdly out of place in the crowd. "This government talks a lot about women's rights, but I haven't seen anything to convince me it has really done anything," says the mother, Khadijeh Hejazi. She recounts a story of a plump neighbour who could not secure a divorce, informed by the judge that she "didn't look like she was being mistreated." Her daughter, Golpar, looks pained, and confesses she is unsure what to worry about more, her upcoming university entrance exams, or the dim professional prospects she will confront after completing her studies.
Reza Khatami mentions the word 'reform' 20 minutes into his speech, and only via a circuitous reference to the ideological legacy of the late Imam Khomeini. The phrases that pepper his usual campaign speeches -- civil society, rule of law, legislative reform, and mass participation -- do not surface at all. His rhetoric is paternalistic, and heavily imbued with references to Islam. Mother and daughter shoot quizzical glances at one another.
When women like the Hejazis see little improvement in the state's impact on areas so central to their lives such as education and family law, it will be difficult to convince them that the establishment and the sixth parliament -- be it dominated by reformists or not -- has their interests in mind. Nor do they appreciate feeling invisible -- that it is taken for granted that their aspirations are limited. Educational ambitions, cultural development and an ideological recognition of women's rights should not, they feel, be reserved for districts north of downtown, that is for the high-income neighbourhoods of Tehran.
The late Ayatollah Khomeini led Iran's revolution 21 years ago. Today, women and youth view President Khatami as a symbol of their aspirations for change and reform
(photos: AFP)
Jamileh Kadivar, a candidate on the reformist coalition ticket and sister of the jailed liberal cleric Mohsen Kadivar, says the reformist movement "needs to evolve in its support of women's rights". Social class and cultural issues, she says, must be taken into consideration.
Other prominent female activists, such as jurist Shirin Ebadi, say that women need to participate more actively and effectively in the movement to bring about the necessary reforms.
Beyond the issue of mandatory chador (a form of veiling where only the face is visible), which no one is inclined to broach seriously, the most serious obstacles facing women, according to analysts, are regressive civil laws that institutionalise gender discrimination. Mehranguiz Kar, an attorney, says the inconsistencies among provisions in the legal code arise from problematic readings of Islamic dictates. "A pregnant 11-year-old girl [who has legally married] and whose husband dies cannot legally work to feed her child," she cites as an example.
Just as President Khatami cared so visibly in his 1997 electoral campaign about the social climate for youth and women, his brother has emerged as another champion of the young. He wears his empathy on his sleeve -- "Today the greatest problems of this country are faced by its youth" -- though his ideas are not particularly original: "There is only one future, the continuation of the path of the Dovom Khordad [the date of Khatami's election] movement."
The president's cautious path toward change has been tough on many of his young supporters. What is good for Khatami politically -- incremental progress with minimal risk -- is not necessarily compatible with the aspirations of young people, who are profoundly suspicious of former President Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani's entry into reformist politics. While they may be convinced or forced into accepting what they perceive as stalling by the president, the presence of Rafsanjani cheapens the meaning of the reform movement in their eyes, and could further erode their support for the president.
Khatami had the potential to be the sort of leader his young supporters had envisioned, according to Tehran University art student Mimi Jamshidi. "He had our support and the [Iranian] Constitution behind him," she says, "but he's scared, so he just goes around looking at museums, and for a Third World country this isn't enough. If he really cared about the youth, he would do something worthwhile and leave the symbolism for later."
What students want done in the sixth majlis starts with the expansion of their professional opportunities and extends to deep social and political reforms. Negar Mortazavi, an 18-year-old reporter for the youth newsletter of the Islamic Iran Participation Front (the faction tied to Khatami), says employment is just the starting point, whereas becoming financially independent is what really matters.
As skittish as some university students are about involvement in campus politics, they are nonetheless confronted with challenges that politicise their thinking. Jamshidi, for example, studies figure drawing and longs to practice drawing the way clothing drapes on human figures. But because Islamic sensibilities forbid human images that expose skin on areas other than on the face and hands and certainly would never entertain the possibility of a nude model in the classroom, she is forced to content herself with an old physiology textbook she pores over at home. "My identity is inseparable from my field, so I feel I don't have the freedom to develop myself," she says.
The reform movement is nowhere near having a free hand in such matters as the role of Islam in the university. But many young people would be considerably cheered by progress in areas less ideologically-laden. "I'd like to go take my girlfriend out for coffee without butterflies in my stomach," says Reza Milani, a 32-year-old exporter. Indeed, the social restrictions imposed by the Islamic Republic, albeit lighter now than in years past, are still a serious burden on young people. "I want to be able to go out in public in mixed groups, because [young men and women] can't relate well to each other when our interaction is limited to the classroom and the bedroom [since no public space is available]," says Jamshidi.
Politically active students seek political reform, but they are at the same time realists. They know the president must weigh each move carefully, and would be satisfied to an extent by some candour on his part. "I'd prefer it if Khatami was frank, and just tell people the right-wing won't let me move on this issue or that issue," says Merdad Pirouzi, a photography student. "But I know this openness might lead to civil strife, and we don't want to end up like Afghanistan." Pirouzi's summation of Khatami echoes that of many students, who initially invested a great deal of hope in him personally but have now reconciled themselves to their choice as the best among a dismal set of options. "This is different, though, from accepting him personally," reminds Pirouzi. "I won't put myself on the line for him like I might have before, because I know his history and he's not worth the sacrifice. [We] The students are no longer prepared to slap our chests and proclaim him our leader."
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