Amr El-Choubaki*, on a visit to Iran, contrasts the Islamic Republic of the imagination to that of every-day reality Those of us who grew up in Egypt in the 1980s may still recall the searing images of the Iranian revolution in 1979 and their many emotive associations. One such image is that of millions of Iranians, marching and chanting to celebrate Khomeini's homecoming, in what could be the largest ever non-official demonstration in history. The image of the returning Khomeini remains etched in the memory of many of my contemporaries. Equally haunting, at least among opponents of President El-Sadat in Egypt, was the image of the Egyptian president signing the Camp David accords in 1979. El-Sadat launched a strategic alliance with the United States just as Shah Reza Pahlavi, a staunch ally of America and Israel, was being ousted in Iran. The Iranian Revolution -- and I am stressing the revolutionary aspect over the Islamic -- had a dream. It vowed to stand up to the Great Satan (America), free the disenfranchised, fight Israel, liberate Palestine, and in general bring justice and equality to Iran, the Islamic world, and beyond. The dream was somewhat exceptional, for it was not just a dream for this life, but for the one ever after. It was a revolution for God and man, heaven and earth. When revolutions move on from the stage of dreaming to that of doing, they often discover that good intentions, rosy dreams, and ideological ideals are not enough. They need to run a state, manage institutions, sustain a political life, contain domestic conflicts, and fulfill popular aspirations. The Iranian revolution had its share of good and bad times. What its record shows is that spirituality can turn into words easier than into deeds. The Iranian regime proved to be less pure than the ideals the revolution brought along. My old fascination with Iran's revolution resurged as I landed in Tehran on a mild and dewy morning last month, a quarter of a century after the revolution. I knew, of course, that the revolution had not kept its initial purity, and that it has since turned into a regime, full with government and parliament, conservatives and reformists. So, I prepared myself to forget about the early promises and look into the daily reality of today's Iran. As a writer, I have learnt what Iran's revolutionaries must now know, that hard facts count for more than wishes. Revolutions are a promise of change. And, like all promises, it is not the rhetoric that matters, but the actual course taken with regard to political democracy and other economic and social spheres. I arrived in Tehran on 7 June, along with six representatives of various Egyptian NGOs, on a trip sponsored by the Friedrich Ebert Foundation office in Cairo. From the first moment, one notices the overlapping in power between the spiritual guides of the revolution and the elected officials, with the former often eclipsing the latter. The picture of Imam Khomeini is everywhere, which makes some sense, considering that he is the symbol of the revolution. Khomeini being deceased, the omnipresence of his likeness does not seem daunting, does not suggest groveling in any way. Khomeini's picture was not always alone, however. Photos of Khamenei, the revolution's current spiritual leader, and other religious figures are posted at the entrance of many official buildings and atop of private and public buildings in Tehran. Only rarely, is the picture of President Khatami included in this visual power display. SCENE ONE: Tehran Airport is a clean, orderly affair, not as fancy as Dubai Airport, for example, at which we stopped over on our way to Tehran, but nor is it as chaotic as many airports in the Arab world are. We entered the passport control hall at the moment the call for the dawn prayers was sounded. Impressively, all the workers at the free market and immigration continued to work as usual, despite the fact that the number of arrivals was relatively small. Apparently, they are still aware of "work is a form of worship", as the saying goes. The sunrise was splendid in Tehran, a city encircled, particularly at the north by marvelous mountains. The north of the city is where the affluent live. The poor neighbourhoods are in the southern part of the city, but I have noticed that poverty is less acute than in other places of the Third World. Our entry procedures speedily completed, we left the airport to a luxury, downtown hotel. There, we filled the customary check-in forms and were made to leave our passports at the reception counter. This last procedure is hardly required in the overwhelming majority of countries in the world, and it was odd to see it enforced in Iran. I noticed that Iranians are not likely to speak in loud voices. You don't see the hysterical screaming on the street, that is the faithful companion of chaotic, stressful urban lives in our part of the world. The Iranians seem to have a great respect for the law. There is no signs of excessive affluence or abject poverty. The rich do not seem bent on flaunting their wealth and outwardly at least, the Iranians are quite egalitarian in their manners. SCENE TWO: On the first day in Iran, we started attending a four-day conference at Tehran University about civil society groups, the status of women in both Egypt and Iran, and the political and social differences between the two countries. The Iranians were impressive in their understanding of the function of non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and of the independence of these organisations from the state. One of the Iranians who attended the workshops categorically rejected a proposal by an Egyptian participant that another seminar be held under the sponsorship of the Egyptian prime minister or one of the Iranian vice presidents, pointing out that voluntary work should remain independent from government activities. Unlike Egypt, the foreign finance of NGOs is a non-existent issue, for Iranian NGOs rely on their own resources. Should the Iranian government allow the NGOs to receive foreign assistance, this would be mostly in support of already existing activities. This is a healthier approach than that of NGOs in the Arab world, where foreign finance tend to precede actual operations and where projects may be designed with the donors more in mind than the actual beneficiaries. SCENE THREE: Iranian women maintain a strong presence in various aspects of cultural, social, and political life. In the conference mentioned above, women exceeded men among Iranian participants. Among the Iranian women in attendance were presidential advisers, parliamentarians, actresses, filmmakers, novelists, and poets. Women bring much vitality to Iranian life. Dignified but easygoing, their charm as subtle as their make-up, Iranian women are engagingly attractive. The head scarf is still a requirement, but many now let it slip midway backwards. Some wear the chador, which is a traditional black wrap covering the entire body but leaving the face bare. We did not come across one case of niqab, the garb that covers the face as well as the entire body, in either Tehran or Isfahan, and were led to believe that it is a rarity in Iran. The sight of young lovers in the parks of Tehran was as common as it was refreshing. Young couples strolling down the street are no longer harassed by the Revolutionary Guards, as was the case in the 1980s, nor are they subjected to the disapproving gaze of their compatriots. SCENE FOUR: In political discussions with researchers as well as ordinary Iranians, I sensed their sadness that Egypt and Iran have no diplomatic relations. Even conservative Iranians intimated that Iran was willing to change the name of Khaled Al-Islambouli street (a major street in Tehran named after El-Sadat's assassin), but added that Egypt didn't show enough interest in restoring diplomatic relations. I mentioned that I was one of the opponents of President El- Sadat, yet I cannot see the point in paying a tribute to someone who espoused violence and saw it as a sole means of change. Ordinary Egyptians, even those who opposed El-Sadat, never saw Al- Islambouli as a hero. Besides, Egypt is not short of Islamic figures worthy of commemoration. From the way many Iranians spoke freely against their government's performance, I sensed none of the fear that is supposedly prevalent in police states. The vitality of Iranian political system perhaps owes much to the duality existing between the conservatives and the reformists, who have rival visions of their country's cultural, organisational, and political development. Student protests broke out during our sojourn in Tehran and we were not led to believe that it was an exceptional affair or a grave threat to the system. The Iranian system has developed political mechanisms through which it can accommodate, albeit reluctantly, such protests. It also has the type of institutions that can adapt to popular demands, even conflicting ones, as it does to the ongoing rivalry between the reformists and the conservatives. Peaceful protest is a common form of democratic struggle, and this is how these protests were seen in other parts of the world, with the exception of the United States. Blinded by political extremism, Washington saw the protests not as a sign of political vigour, but as a prelude to a coup of the type once common in Latin America. The ranks of the guardians of the Islamic Revolution are filled by a variety of religious scholars commendable on two counts at least: they are elected, and they believe in what they preach. They are not employees currying favour with the regime, nor do they live under a ruler they fear and have to obey. They truly believe they are serving Iran and Islam. The conservatives -- mostly elected officials, as is the case with the Council of Experts and the spiritual guide of the republic -- have a simple problem, however. They don't seem to understand that when people acquire extraordinary power by virtue of their revolutionary or religious qualifications alone, others are bound to disapprove. If the conservatives continue to regard themselves as the sole representatives of Islam and the Islamic Revolution, ordinary Iranians will end up rejecting not just the conservative trend but also the principles of the Islamic Revolution itself. The Islamic Revolution, I believe, has all the qualifications it needs to continue as a framework for Iran's political system so long as it is guarded by the constitution and by the law, without the mediation of either the conservatives or US representatives. SCENE FIVE: Isfahan, a charming town nicknamed "half the world" by the Iranians, is 500 miles away from Tehran. A two-day excursion gave us the chance to meet some NGO officials in the health services field, but mostly we mingled with bazaar merchants and visited the old mosques and the Tehran cathedral, the latter having dramatic associations with the tragedy of the Armenians in Turkey during World War I. The Ali Qura Mosque, situated in the heart of Isfahan, is one of the most decorative and architecturally distinctive mosques in the world. The area around it is chockfull with rug dealers, who double as carpet makers. They usually pitch their merchandise by enlightening the customers about the history of carpet making in Iran, the difference between silk carpets and other rugs, how the carpets are woven, and who the best carpet designers in Iran are. The same tactic is used in art galleries in the bazaar. In most of the shops we visited, artists were at hand to speak of their work. Haggling is acceptable, but the prices are generally reasonable. I happened to notice that the merchants did not seem to pay much attention to the national, religious, or racial background of the customers. Our group was mainly Egyptian, plus one German. The merchants did not seem to either favour the Egyptians, on the grounds that they are mostly fellow Muslims, or the German, on the assumption that he could be more affluent. For the most part, the merchants and artists were business-minded but helpful. As I boarded the plane to Cairo, a haunting question came to my mind: when will Egyptian-Iranian relations be restored? The Americans may still find it hard to understand nations with a history and a civilisation. They have not learned how to respect old and tolerant nations who have made great historic contributions to humanity. The Egyptians and Iranians understand these things and much more that the Americans may take a long time to comprehend. So, what exactly are we waiting for? * The writer is an expert at the Al-Ahram Centre for Political and Strategic Studies.
