21 Dec 2010 | Iran, Middle East and North Africa
Mourning means different things to different people. Even within one culture. But the month of Moharram, (7 December–4 January) the first month of the Islamic Calendar with its decrees and limitations is interpreted beyond the letter in Iran. To many citizens it typifies a period of imposed, false uniformity bereft of self expression and an even stricter call for abstinence from any of life’s simpler pleasures. In fact the word Moharram means inviolable. The inviolable code of conduct includes the requirement that people of all ages refrain from wearing coloured garments of any description, and do not listen to music other than the ceremonial religious strains played on the radio to mark the period. The tone extends to modern television; amazingly cartoon serials are re-modelled, their jittery soundtracks replaced with more appropriately sombre sotto voce pieces.
This September marked the launch of director Mehran Modiri’s brilliant and hugely entertaining made-for-television –– and immediately barred from television — Ghahveye Talkh (Bitter Coffee), a historical satire set in the Iranian calendar year 1200. I for one am hooked, and was all set to watch episode 23 when the series was as quickly as it had come online, taken offline. Indeed the month of Moharram — clearly now observed online too — was underway, demanding that fans abstain from their Bitter Coffee wherever in the world they may be, regardless of their religious conviction. In Iran the series, sold weekly in three-episode sets, will not again be available until the end of this month of mourning during which laughter is haram or forbidden.
This observance extends to far and wide, the chief of Tehran’s transport police has outlawed any kind of expression through ones car. No writing, banners, dice or other suspended memorabilia is tolerated on the road, “primarily for safety reasons” he said, “but to be especially observed during the month of mourning”. Last year’s Ashura, (the 10th day of Moharram, marking the day that Imam Hossein was killed in the Battle of Karbala), ended in fresh bloodshed as post-election protestors adopted what had traditionally been the ceremonial green of Hossein and Ashura. No doubt the chief of police was preempting the adornment of cars with green banners.
In the Battle of Karbala one side was made up of the supporters of Hossein, the Prophet Mohammad’s grandson. On the other side was a military detachment from the forces of Yazid, the Umayyad caliph. This year on the eve of Ashura, defeated presidential candidate Mehdi Karroubi referred to the Battle saying “We’re not Yazid and you [the leadership] Hossein, nor are we Hossein, and you Yazid. We need to open dialogue to establish who was right. He who conducted himself honourably [in the elections] is Hossein and he who conducted himself badly is Yazid. And that is the only way forward, to open dialogue and see who stood against the rights of the people in a “Yazidi” method.”
The acclaimed photographer Reza went one step further in his analogy to underline the hypocrisy of Iran’s leadership by creating a Taziyeh featuring the now familiar faces of the martyrs of the post-election brutality –– Neda, Sohrab and Taraneh – instead of the martyrs of Karbala, their names depicted in full alongside other fallen citizens in the classical Persian calligraphy of the genre. Taziehs, a genre of plays and poems commemorating the Battle of Karbala became popular after the adoption of the Shi’a faith in Iran. The religious value of these works is profound. Reza’s satirical version was made in 2009 fresh from the aftermath, but was again resonant on activist sites this week.
21 Dec 2010 | Index Index, Middle East and North Africa, minipost, News
Iranian director Jafar Panahi has been sentenced to six years in prison for “colluding in gathering and making propaganda against the regime”. Panahi has also been banned from directing films or speaking to the press for 20 years.
20 Dec 2010 | Uncategorized
During the last few weeks, Wikileaks has been in focus in all kinds of media worldwide. This has certainly been the case in Sweden, and for a number of very different reasons.
But if Wikileaks represents a new sort of journalism, as some commentators have been arguing, then the media response has followed its own and rather dated logic. The first two rounds of leaked US documents stirred up a debate concerning their content — including new information about US military activities in Iraq. The latest round, Cablegate, which exposes diplomatic cables has led to a heated discussion about Wikileaks itself. As McLuhan (almost) put it, the medium risks becoming the message.
Not that the Cablegate documents aren’t interesting in themselves. The Swedes discovered that their government, after first letting the CIA land planes making secret prisoner transports changed their minds about the system and discontinued cooeperation in 2006. This was very welcome news. But the released diplomatic correspondence started a discussion about the nature of secrecy itself — what is legitimate discretion and what is just much smoke and mirrors, intended to keep citizens in the dark?
Interesting as that may be from a philosophical point of view, the real discussion point this time is Wikileaks’ founder Julian Assange — after the allegations of sexual harassment and rape emerged during his stay in Sweden. Ironically, the matter has been thoroughly exposed on Swedish blogs and websites. Everyone who wants to know the details of the allegations can find names, places and other “facts” online — very much in the spirit of Wikileaks itself. What you learn as you step into this mire of allegations, counter-allegations, facts and speculations is how sordid and complicated the matter is. The general opinion in Sweden — if indeed such an opinion really can be discerned — is that Assange should face a Swedish court and, probably, be released for lack of evidence. Not many commentators here really believe that he runs the risk of being delivered into the hands of the US authorities.
If we restrict our discussion to Wikileaks as a phenomenon in its own right, the general opinion in the Swedish press (with few divergent voices) is that something of this kind is necessary and even welcome — if handled with the proper journalistic ethos. As columnist Lars Linder argues in the largest Swedish daily, Dagens Nyheter (12/12). “Wikileaks operate within the territory of classic journalism.” As Linder put it: “Wikileaks has shown us that what the powers that be really hide behind their speeches on “security” and “responsibility” — and that is ‘too much’.”
Wikileaks operates within the spirit of the classic muck-raking journalism that we tend to respect and consider more or less heroic — 10 to 20 years after the fact. During the Watergate crisis the Washington Post was accused of having a hidden (left-wing Democratic) political agenda and meddling in things they did not fully grasp. Today we consider their exposure of Nixon as a triumph of democracy. Wikileaks’ abilility to rally support is, of course, rooted in another fact: that many of the democratic states during the so-called “War on Terror” have been rolling back fundamental human rights. In that context the Wikileaks’ phenomenon can be regarded as a necessary push in the other direction.
Therefore it is even more outrageous that media channels in the above-mentioned democratic countries like the US and Canada have been filled with comments that must be seen as death threats. There is no other way to interpret quotes from for example Fox news contributor Bob Beckel who, speaking about Assange, encourages his viewers to “illegally shoot the son of a bitch”. There have been numerous such quotes during the recent weeks.
And this brings us to the bottom line: if democratic states shut down inopportunistic news channels with questionable or even illegal means — and if death threats to journalists are accepted as part of common political discourse — what is there to say the next time a journalist is shot in Mexico or put behind bars in China or Iran? Nothing. As Pen International states: “In a world where journalists are regularly physically attacked, imprisoned and killed with impunity, calling for the death of a journalist is irresponsible and deplorable.”
And that, my friends, is a wake-up call.
Ola Larsmo is a Swedish novelist and freelance critic, and president of Swedish PEN
12 Dec 2010 | Iran, Middle East and North Africa
No right to assembly or protest. As an independent trade unionist in Iran your actions are automatically illegitimate in the eyes of the state and for many carry a prison sentence. One such worker Reza Shahabi, treasurer of the Bus Workers’ Union has been in Tehran’s Evin prison since June 2010 and remains incarcerated in spite of his family’s payment of the 60m Tomans (USD 57,000) bail money demanded as condition of his release on 11 October.
Iran’s Bus Workers’ Union formed to fight for basic rights and working conditions, and to stand against common injustices among them unfair dismissal and unpaid wages. Shahabi upheld the values of this federation and his outcry now manifests itself as an ultimate and pivotal voice of the unheard as he enters the second week of a dry hunger strike (Day 1, Saturday 3 December).
The Declaration on Hunger Strikers (Declaration of Malta) defines a hunger striker as “a mentally competent person who has indicated that he has decided to embark on a hunger strike and has refused to take food and/or fluids or a significant interval.” Most hunger strikes involve an intake of water or other liquid, salt and sugar. Vitamins are also taken to protect against irreversible neurological damage and other critical damage upon the reintroduction of food to the body. Shahabi’s dry hunger strike rejects these precautions as to date he has had nil by mouth.
The medical ethics of hunger strikes remain intensely debated as are the individual’s right to strike, considered against the freedom and authenticity of this decision in a prison environment. The issue of the aims of the strike and their incompatibility with a legitimate state’s policies regarding operating a prison is also pertinent. These points are discussed in a paper entitled The physician and prison hunger strikes, published in 2004, examining prisoner hunger strikes in Turkey.
It is poignant that the Iranian government apparently reveres the actions of hunger strikers in far away lands, naming two streets after IRA hunger striker Bobby Sands — Winston Churchill Boulevard, the address of the British Embassy in Tehran, was renamed Bobby Sands Street, the state Fars news agency calling his death “heroic” — but refuses to heed the desperate actions of its own citizens.
To sign Amnesty International’s campaign for the freedom of Reza Shahabi and fellow unionists click here.
