The Day of Destiny: ‘Tanks, guns, Basiji, you have no effect now’

Robert Fisk witnesses the courage of one million opposition protesters.

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A demonstrator who was shot during a protest in the streets of the capital Tehran today

It was Iran’s day of destiny and day of courage. A million of its people marched from Engelob Square to Azadi Square – from the Square of Revolution to the Square of Freedom – beneath the eyes of Tehran’s brutal riot police. The crowds were singing and shouting and laughing and abusing their “President” as “dust”.Mirhossein Mousavi was among them, riding atop a car amid the exhaust smoke and heat, unsmiling, stunned, unaware that so epic a demonstration could blossom amid the hopelessness of Iran’s post-election bloodshed. He may have officially lost last Friday’s election, but yesterday was his electoral victory parade through the streets of his capital. It ended, inevitably, in gunfire and blood.

Not since the 1979 Iranian Revolution have massed protesters gathered in such numbers, or with such overwhelming popularity, through the boulevards of this torrid, despairing city. They jostled and pushed and crowded through narrow lanes to reach the main highway and then found riot police in steel helmets and batons lined on each side. The people ignored them all. And the cops, horribly outnumbered by these tens of thousands, smiled sheepishly and – to our astonishment – nodded their heads towards the men and women demanding freedom. Who would have believed the government had banned this march?

The protesters’ bravery was all the more staggering because many had already learned of the savage killing of five Iranians on the campus of Tehran University, done to death – according to students – by pistol-firing Basiji militiamen. When I reached the gates of the college yesterday morning, many students were weeping behind the iron fence of the campus, shouting “massacre” and throwing a black cloth across the mesh. That was when the riot police returned and charged into the university grounds once more.

At times, Mousavi’s victory march threatened to crush us amid walls of chanting men and women. They fell into the storm drains and stumbled over broken trees and tried to keep pace with his vehicle, vast streamers of green linen strung out in front of their political leader’s car. They sang in unison, over and over, the same words: “Tanks, guns, Basiji, you have no effect now.” As the government’s helicopters roared overhead, these thousands looked upwards and bayed above the clatter of rotor blades: “Where is my vote?” Clichés come easily during such titanic days, but this was truly a historic moment.

Would it change the arrogance of power which Mahmoud Ahmadinejad demonstrated so rashly just a day earlier, when he loftily invited the opposition – there were reported to be huge crowds protesting on the streets of other Iranian cities yesterday – to be his “friends”, while talking ominously of the “red light” through which Mousavi had driven. Ahmadinejad claimed a 66 per cent victory at the polls, giving Mousavi scarcely 33 per cent. No wonder the crowds yesterday were also singing – and I mean actually singing in chorus – “They have stolen our vote and now they are using it against us.”

A heavy and benevolent dust fell over us all as we trekked the great highway towards the fearful pyramid of concrete which the Shah once built to honour his father and which the 1979 revolutionaries re-named Freedom Square. Behind us, among the stragglers, stones began to burst on to the road as Basijis besieged the Sharif University (they seem to have something against colleges of further education these days) and one man collapsed on the road, his face covered in blood. But on the great mass of people moved, waving their green flags and shouting in joy at the thousands of Iranians who stood along the rooftops.

On the right, they all saw an old people’s home and out on to the balcony came the aged and the crippled who must have remembered the reign of the loathed Shah, perhaps even his creepy father, Reza Khan. A woman who must have been 90 waved a green handkerchief and an even older man emerged on the narrow balcony and waved his crutch in the air. The thousands below them shrieked back their joy at this ancient man.

Walking beside this vast flood of humanity, a strange fearlessness possessed us all. Who would dare attack them now? What government could deny a people of this size and determination? Dangerous questions.

By dusk, the Basiji were being chased by hundreds of protesters in the west of the city but shooting was crackling around the suburbs after dark. Those who were fatally too late in leaving Azadi, were fired on by the Basiji. One dead, thousands in panic, we heard behind us.

After every day of sunlight, there usually comes a perilous darkness and perhaps it was prefigured by the strange grey cloud that approached us all as we drew closer to Azadi Square yesterday afternoon. Many of the thousands of people around me noticed it and, burned by the afternoon sun, seemed to walk faster to embrace its shade. Then it rained, it poured, it soaked us. There is a faint rainy season in mid-summer Tehran but it had arrived early, sunlight arcing through the clouds like the horizon in a Biblical painting.

Moin, a student of chemical engineering at Tehran University – the same campus where blood had been shed just a few hours before – was walking beside me and singing in Persian as the rain pelted down. I asked him to translate.

“It’s a poem by Sohrab Sepehri, one of our modern poets,” he said. Could this be real, I asked myself? Do they really sing poems in Tehran when they are trying to change history? Here is what he was singing:

“We should go under the rain.
We should wash our eyes,
And we should see the world in a different way.”

He grinned at me and at his two student friends. “The next line is about making love to a woman in the rain, but that doesn’t seem very suitable here.” We all agreed. Our feet hurt. We were still tripping over manhole covers and kerbstones hidden beneath men’s feet and women’s chadors. For this was not just the trendy, young, sunglassed ladies of north Tehran. The poor were here, too, the street workers and middle-aged ladies in full chador. A very few held babies on their shoulders or children by the arm, talking to them from time to time, trying to explain the significance of this day to a mind that would not remember it in the years to come that they were here on this day of days.

The vast Azadi monument appeared through the grey light like a spaceship – we had been walking for four miles – and Moin and his friends spent an hour squeezing through a body of humanity so dense that my chest was about to be crushed. Around the monument, the Shah had long ago built a grassed rampart. We struggled to its height and there, suddenly, was the breathtaking nature of it all. Readers who have seen the film Atonement will remember the scene where the British hero-soldier climbs a sand-dune and suddenly beholds those thousands on the beaches of Dunkirk. This was no less awesome.

Amid the great basin of grass and concrete that surrounds the monument were a thousand souls, moving and swaying and singing in the new post-rain sunlight. There must have been at least a million, and – here one struggles for a metaphor – it was like a vast animal, a great heaving beast that breathed and roared and moved sluggishly beneath that monstrous arrow of concrete. Moin and his friends lay on the grass, smoking cigarettes. They asked each other if the Supreme Leader would understand what this meant for Iran. “He’s got to hold the elections again,” one of Moin’s friends told him. They looked at me. Don’t ask a foreigner, I said. Because I’m not so sure that the fathers of the 1979 revolution will look so kindly upon this self-evident demand for freedom.

True, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the Supreme Leader – how antiquated that title sounded yesterday – had agreed to enquire into the election results, perhaps to look over a polling statistic or two. But Ahmadinejad, despite his obtuseness and his unending smile, is a tough guy in a tough clerical environment. His glorious predecessor, Hojatolislam Mohamed Khatami, was somewhere down there amid the crowds, along with Mousavi and Mousavi’s wife Zahra Rahnavard, but they could not protect these people.

Government is not about good guys and bad guys. It is about power, state and political power – they are not the same – and unless those wanly smiling riot police move across to the opposition, the weapons of the Islamic Republic remain in the hands of Ahmadinejad’s administration and his spiritual protectors. As, no doubt, we shall soon see.

2 thoughts on “The Day of Destiny: ‘Tanks, guns, Basiji, you have no effect now’”

  1. The humble, humble President Ahmedinejad….what a guy
    The Fox News TV (USA) asked the Iranian President Ahmedinejad, ‘When you look into the mirror in the morning what do you say to yourself’?
    He answered: I see the person in the mirror and tell him ‘Remember’ you are no more than a small servant, ahead of you today is the heavy responsibility, and that is to serve the Iranian nation’.
    Ahmedinejad, the Iranian President who astonished many when he first reached to the office of the Presidency by donating all the high valued Iranian carpets to one of the mosques in Tehran by replacing them with the low cost ordinary carpets. He observed that there was a huge extravagant lounge for receiving and welcoming the VIPs and he ordered it to be closed and asked the protocol office to arrange for an ordinary room only with wooden chairs.
    On many instances he joins the cleaning staff of the municipality for cleaning the streets in the area where his home and the Presidency are located.
    Under his authority whenever he appoints any minister to his post he gets a signed document from him with many points particularly highlighting that he shall remain poor and that his personal and his relatives accounts will be watched and the day he leaves the ministry shall be with dignity, and therefore it is not lawful for him or his relatives to take any advantage of his office. First of all he declared himself for all the ‘Big’ wealth and the property he owned was a Peugeot 504 car, model 1977, an old small house inherited from his father 40-years ago in one of the poorest zones in Tehran . His accounts with a zero balance and the only money comes in to his a/c was from his salary from the university as a lecturer with an amount of US$ 250 only.
    For your information the President still lives in that same house. This is all what he owns; the president of one of the world’s important countries; strategically, economically, politically and with regard to its oil and defense. He even doesn’t take his personal salary with the argument that all the wealth belongs to the nation and he is the safeguard over it.
    One of the things that impressed the staff at the presidency is the bag the President brings with him every day, which contains his breakfast; some sandwiches or bread with olive oil and cheese prepared by his wife and eats and enjoys it with all happiness.
    One of the other things he changed was his personal carrier ‘the President’s Aircraft’ to a cargo aircraft in order to save the spending from the public treasury and he ordered that he will be flying with the ordinary airline in the economy class. He organizes meetings every now and then with all the ministers to know their activities and efficiency and he closed down the office of the Manager of the president and any minister can enter to his office without any permission. He also stopped the welcome ceremonies like the red carpet, the photo session or any personal advertisement or respect of any kind while visiting any place in the country.
    Whenever he has to stay in any of the hotels he asks them to make sure not to give him a room with any big bed because he doesn’t like to sleep on beds but rather likes to sleep on the floor on a simple mattress with a blanket..
    Refer to some of the attached photographs which also confirm the above. The Iranian president is sleeping in the guest room of his house after getting away from his special guards who follow him wherever he goes and photo is taken by his small brother according to the Wifaq Newspaper which published this photo and the next day the photo was published in most of the world’s newspapers and magazines and particularly the Americans. During the prayer you can see that he is not sitting in the first row. And the final photo is of his dining room where the president is busy eating his simple meal.
    MAY GOD BLESS HIM

    Ahmadinejad won. Get over it — Flynt Leverett and Hillary Mann Leverett
    JUNE 16 — Without any evidence, many US politicians and “Iran experts” have dismissed Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s re-election on Friday, with 62.6 per cent of the vote, as fraud.
    They ignore the fact that Ahmadinejad’s 62.6 per cent of the vote in this year’s election is essentially the same as the 61.69 per cent he received in the final count of the 2005 presidential election, when he trounced former President Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani. The shock of the “Iran experts” over Friday’s results is entirely self-generated, based on their preferred assumptions and wishful thinking.
    Although Iran’s elections are not free by Western standards, the Islamic Republic has a 30-year history of highly contested and competitive elections at the presidential, parliamentary and local levels. Manipulation has always been there, as it is in many other countries. But upsets occur — as, most notably, with Mohammed Khatami’s surprise victory in the 1997 presidential election. Moreover, “blowouts” also occur — as in Khatami’s re-election in 2001, Ahmadinejad’s first victory in 2005 and, we would argue, this year.
    Like much of the Western media, most American “Iran experts” overstated Mirhossein Mousavi’s “surge” over the campaign’s final weeks. More important, they were oblivious — as in 2005 — to Ahmadinejad’s effectiveness as a populist politician and campaigner. American “Iran experts” missed how Ahmadinejad was perceived by most Iranians as having won the nationally televised debates with his three opponents — especially his debate with Mousavi.
    Before the debates, both Mousavi and Ahmadinejad campaign aides indicated privately that they perceived a surge of support for Mousavi; after the debates, the same aides concluded that Ahmadinejad’s provocatively impressive performance and Mousavi’s desultory one had boosted the incumbent’s standing. Ahmadinejad’s charge that Mousavi was supported by Rafsanjani’s sons — widely perceived in Iranian society as corrupt figures — seemed to play well with voters.
    Similarly, Ahmadinejad’s criticism that Mousavi’s reformist supporters, including Khatami, had been willing to suspend Iran’s uranium enrichment programme and had won nothing from the West for doing so tapped into popular support for the programme — and had the added advantage of being true.
    More fundamentally, American “Iran experts” consistently underestimated Ahmadinejad’s base of support. Polling in Iran is notoriously difficult; most polls there are less than fully professional and, hence, produce results of questionable validity. But the one poll conducted before Friday’s election by a Western organisation that was transparent about its methodology — a telephone poll carried out by the Washington-based Terror-Free Tomorrow from May 11 to 20 — found Ahmadinejad running 20 points ahead of Mousavi. This poll was conducted before the televised debates in which, as noted above, Ahmadinejad was perceived to have done well while Mousavi did poorly.
    American “Iran experts” assumed that “disastrous” economic conditions in Iran would undermine Ahmadinejad’s re-election prospects. But the International Monetary Fund projects that Iran’s economy will actually grow modestly this year (when the economies of most Gulf Arab states are in recession).
    A significant number of Iranians — including the religiously pious, lower-income groups, civil servants and pensioners — appear to believe that Ahmadinejad’s policies have benefited them.
    And, while many Iranians complain about inflation, the TFT poll found that most Iranian voters do not hold Ahmadinejad responsible. The “Iran experts” further argue that the high turnout on June 12 — 82 per cent of the electorate — had to favour Mousavi. But this line of analysis reflects nothing more than assumptions.
    Some “Iran experts” argue that Mousavi’s Azeri background and “Azeri accent” mean that he was guaranteed to win Iran’s Azeri-majority provinces; since Ahmadinejad did better than Mousavi in these areas, fraud is the only possible explanation.
    But Ahmadinejad himself speaks Azeri quite fluently as a consequence of his eight years serving as a popular and successful official in two Azeri-majority provinces; during the campaign, he artfully quoted Azeri and Turkish poetry — in the original — in messages designed to appeal to Iran’s Azeri community. (And we should not forget that the supreme leader is Azeri.) The notion that Mousavi was somehow assured of victory in Azeri-majority provinces is simply not grounded in reality.
    With regard to electoral irregularities, the specific criticisms made by Mousavi — such as running out of ballot paper in some precincts and not keeping polls open long enough (even though polls stayed open for at least three hours after the announced closing time) — could not, in themselves, have tipped the outcome so clearly in Ahmadinejad’s favour.
    Moreover, these irregularities do not, in themselves, amount to electoral fraud even by American legal standards. And, compared with the US presidential election in Florida in 2000, the flaws in Iran’s electoral process seem less significant.
    In the wake of Friday’s election, some “Iran experts” — perhaps feeling burned by their misreading of contemporary political dynamics in the Islamic Republic — argue that we are witnessing a “conservative coup d’état,” aimed at a complete takeover of the Iranian state.
    But one could more plausibly suggest that if a “coup” is being attempted, it has been mounted by the losers in Friday’s election. It was Mousavi, after all, who declared victory on Friday even before Iran’s polls closed. And three days before the election, Mousavi supporter Rafsanjani published a letter criticising the leader’s failure to rein in Ahmadinejad’s resort to “such ugly and sin-infected phenomena as insults, lies and false allegations.” Many Iranians took this letter as an indication that the Mousavi camp was concerned their candidate had fallen behind in the campaign’s closing days.
    In light of these developments, many politicians and “Iran experts” argue that the Obama administration cannot now engage the “illegitimate” Ahmadinejad regime. Certainly, the administration should not appear to be trying to “play” in the current controversy in Iran about the election. In this regard, President Barack Obama’s comments on Friday, a few hours before the polls closed in Iran, that “just as has been true in Lebanon, what can be true in Iran as well is that you’re seeing people looking at new possibilities” was extremely maladroit.
    From Tehran’s perspective, this observation undercut the credibility of Obama’s acknowledgment, in his Cairo speech earlier this month, of US complicity in overthrowing a democratically elected Iranian government and restoring the Shah in 1953.
    The Obama administration should vigorously rebut any argument against engaging Tehran following Friday’s vote. More broadly, Ahmadinejad’s victory may force Obama and his senior advisers to come to terms with the deficiencies and internal contradictions in their approach to Iran. Before the Iranian election, the Obama administration had fallen for the same illusion as many of its predecessors — the illusion that Iranian politics is primarily about personalities and finding the right personality to deal with. That is not how Iranian politics works.
    The Islamic Republic is a system with multiple power centres; within that system, there is a strong and enduring consensus about core issues of national security and foreign policy, including Iran’s nuclear programme and relations with the United States. Any of the four candidates in Friday’s election would have continued the nuclear programme as Iran’s president; none would agree to its suspension.
    Any of the four candidates would be interested in a diplomatic opening with the United States, but that opening would need to be comprehensive, respectful of Iran’s legitimate national security interests and regional importance, accepting of Iran’s right to develop and benefit from the full range of civil nuclear technology — including pursuit of the nuclear fuel cycle — and aimed at genuine rapprochement.
    Such an approach would also, in our judgment, be manifestly in the interests of the United States and its allies throughout the Middle East. It is time for the Obama administration to get serious about pursuing this approach — with an Iranian administration headed by the re-elected President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. – http://www.politico.com
    Flynt Leverett directs The New America Foundation’s Iran Project and teaches international affairs at Pennsylvania State University. Hillary Mann Leverett is CEO of STRATEGA, a political risk consultancy. Both worked for many years on Middle East issues for the US government, including as members of the National Security Council staff. The views expressed are their own.

    What if Twitter is leading us all astray in Iran?
    Joshua Kucera
    Here are a few of the things that we’ve “learned” the last few days about the Iranian elections and their aftermath:
    — 3 million people protested Monday in Tehran
    — the losing candidate, Mir Hossein Mousavi, was put under house arrest
    — the president of the election monitoring committee declared the election invalid on Saturday
    These are just a handful of data points that have been shooting around the Internet, via Twitter or the opposition-friendly blogs. And all have been instrumental in building a public opinion case against the Iranian government for undercounting the support for Mousavi.
    The problem is, none of them appear any longer to be true. The crowd was in the hundreds of thousands, most newspapers reported. Mousavi’s own wife said he wasn’t under house arrest Sunday, and Monday he appeared in person at the protest. And if the president of the election monitoring commission has gone over to the opposition, no serious reporter has reported it.
    Also courtesy of the blogosphere, we have two sets of “real” vote counts “leaked” from the Interior Ministry; one set had Ahmedinejad getting 28 percent, and another gave him 13 percent. These are just a few examples I was able to come up with quickly.
    Andrew Sullivan, who has been leading the charge in the U.S. to try to get us all to wear green and support the opposition, says that “[t]his event has been Twitter’s finest hour.” One of his commenters tells him: “You are gathering information from a myriad of sources and putting it out there for a cohesive message. CNN, NY Times, et al are merely running an article about ‘thousands’ of protesters. Its a canned message from just a few stale sources.”
    But instead, it looks like the Internet is the medium for a lot of unfounded rumors by a lot of (understandably) passionate people in Iran. This is a chaotic situation, and rumors flourish in that environment. I’ve been there: I remember spending a morning in Iraq, during the war, trying to track down confirmation that Tariq Aziz was killed in a hail of bullets trying to run a roadblock while attempting to flee into Kurdistan. Everyone was convinced it had happened. Later in the day he gave a press conference to demonstrate that he was still alive. In Serbia in 2001, as word began to spread that Slobodan Milosevic was going to be arrested soon, a crowd gathered in his backyard, and rumors spread several times that Milosevic had killed himself, or that it was the CIA who was going to make the arrest.
    But in the pre-Twitter age, those sorts of rumors petered out quickly if they weren’t true. If they were true, then journalists found out about them and reported them as fact. Now, the latter is still happening, which is why the journalists in Tehran now are writing pieces with considerably more nuance than what you see on blogs. But the former isn’t true any more – rumors can have a longer lifespan on a network of sympathetic blogs, Facebook postings and Twitter feeds.
    At this point, we don’t know if there was election fraud or not. The AP has a story describing the current state of play on the fraud allegations (the speed of the announcement is now the main point of debate), and although the evidence for fraud is all in the beginning of the story and the evidence against is at the end, it’s a pretty balanced look that probably isn’t going to convince anyone to change their mind. So no need to rehash the arguments here.
    None of this is to excuse the behavior of the government after the election results came out. Or to diminish the bravery and courage of the people who are out in the streets in Tehran getting beaten. But what if it’s based on a lie? A Twitter-fueled, mass delusion of a lie? That the one third of people who voted for Mousavi convinced themselves, via a social media echo chamber that selectively picked rumors and amplified them until they appeared true, that they in fact represented two thirds of the country? And then tried to bring down the government based on that delusion? Maybe it’s not the case this time. But doesn’t this entire episode seem to show how such a thing could happen? And then what?
    I’m a freelance writer in Washington, D.C., published in Slate, The Atlantic and Time. But before that I was a high school teacher in Bulgaria, an illegal day laborer in Tel Aviv, a wire service reporter in South Dakota, a war correspondent in Iraq and a Pentagon hack. And as often as I can, I try to get myself on a bus or train in a new country, looking out the window and trying to figure out what it all means. (See more at http://www.joshuakucera.net)

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