Asal Esfahani: Remembering Iran

The following piece is a personal essay by Asal Esfahani, a Leadership Council intern. Asal returned to Iran this summer for the first time since her family moved to America 16 years ago. In the essay, she explores the ways in which Iranian society has changed in the time since she left.

As the Air France carrier descended over Tehran, the women began to stir in their seats, plunging into their purses and carry-on cases to pull out the necessary garb required by the Islamic regime for their entry into Iran. Looking around me I was bewildered to see women reapplying their make-up and wearing short jackets that showed off the contours of their figures, with gossamer strips of fine fabric gliding over their carefully coiffed hair. So the rumors were true.
I left Iran in the summer of 1990, when I was just nine years old, and had not returned since. My memories of my country were rife with images of family and friends, the exuberance of the New Year in spring and lazy summer holidays spent on the Caspian seashore. But at that moment, I was a lone young woman anxiously waiting to step out of her familiar world, even then tenuously contained within the airplane’s cabin, into a country still reminiscent of war, fear and repression.
From an early age, I had sensed the iron divide separating private life from the public domain. It was clear to me that certain things could not be said or done particularly when under the scrutiny of the religious police - a brutal faction of the Revolutionary Guard - patrolling the streets, looking for the smallest violation of their particular version of Islamic law. Realizing that sixteen years had passed and no one had informed me of the Islamic Republic’s edicts on the proper behavior of a young woman, I was fearful that the slightest transgression in the eyes of the ruling council’s interpretation of Islamic law would cast me as a subversive criminal.
My apprehensions were probably exaggerated by the fragments of memory feeding my defensive intuition as I saw myself facing an imminent threat. Yet, as I stood feeling awkward in my black, oversized, ankle-length frock with a simple scarf concealing every last strand of my hair, among highly fashionable women seemingly unburdened by the rules of proper hijab, my anxieties were not appeased.
That night, I left the airport with less hassle than I would have had to endure had I been at LAX and was welcomed eagerly by members of my family, who were immensely amused at the apparent bewilderment on my face. Over the next few days, while recovering from the jetlag, I was overwhelmed with guilty feelings. What if I was detained and accused of being a deserter, a Westerner, or worse still, a sympathizer of the Americans?
As it turns out, the Americans had arrived long before I ever set foot in Tehran as an adult.
In the years following the Revolution, the media was under the strict control of the government. Access to foreign, unchecked information was strictly forbidden. I remember the man who would sometimes come to our house with his briefcase full of videos, home movies from America. I remember hearing that his brother had been arrested for earning his living in this way. In 2006 the streets of Tehran were bustling with stores packed full of pirated DVDs and CDs selling for about a dollar a piece. There was a satellite dish in virtually every home I visited, with broadcasts from the US, Europe, and various Arabic countries. To my astonishment, posters of Eminem were sprawled across my twelve year old cousin’s bedroom walls. He knew the names of all the latest American pop icons. At another point, I was even privy to a humorous discussion spurred by my uncle’s insistence that his cousin looks just like Oprah.
In the Iranian desert, scorching summer days give way to cool, starry nights when swarms of metropolitans leave their air-conditioned abodes for a night out on the town. Restaurants, cafes, teahouses and burger joints, along chaotic traffic congested streets, teem with active excitement. On the skirts of the Alborz Mountains just outside Tehran, the banks of the Zayandeh River in Isfahan, or by the great poet Sa’adi’s mausoleum in Shiraz, the gurgling masses come out to picnic. My eyes must have appeared to be popping out of their sockets the first time I saw a couple holding hands in public. Music in the streets, albeit female voices are still banned from the public domain, mixed groups of friend’s care-free conversations, women in vibrant dress- all around me were signs that in my absence an overall blurring of the imposed public/private divide had taken place, and had it not been for the tickling of the scarf around my head, I may have forgotten all about the unrelenting grip of the Islamic regime.
The flurry of foreign influence in contemporary Iran is of course not limited to the entertainment industry. Satellite transmissions bring all major television news outlets, such as CNN, BBC, Fox News, and Voice of America Persian service, into middle class homes. Broadcasts of Los Angeles-based television channels inform their viewers of the lifestyles and goings on of their hamvatans (compatriots) in the Iranian diaspora. The spread of communications technology has rendered the government’s control of access to information ever more difficult. As computers have become a more ubiquitous detail of daily life, more people are able to take advantage of the internet’s unbounded informational capacity. The internet has also served as a medium of exchange, linking opinions, judgments, and worldviews throughout the country and abroad.
The rise in extant technology correlates with Iran’s rising education levels, and the young population (median age is 24.8 years[1]) is increasingly skilled and sophisticated. Furthermore, changing trends in gender relations can be attributed to rising educational levels, as more than 60 percent of Iranian university students are women. Women are using higher education as a way to leave home, postpone marriage and generally gain greater freedom and respect. The marriage age has risen, while the birthrate has fallen, as the young educated populace seeks more independence and higher social demands.
Yet despite the many positive developments, empowering Iranians to seek the more substantial democratic ideals of individual rights, liberty and self-government, I was surprised to find a lack of political resolve among those I encountered during my short visit to my country. The United States’ overt mantra underlining the importance of fighting for democracy and freedom worldwide is ignored, while capitalism, a somewhat more surreptitious American export, is preferred. In fact, the Iranian government may have found an unlikely ally in the American consumerist culture seeping in through satellite waves.
“Just have fun and make lots of money.” That was my 27-year-old cousin’s advice when I told him about my non-lucrative ambitions in the field of international development. Although the latter part of that command is much harder to achieve in an economy hampered by a corruption and self-serving government, Iranians have become experts at the art of diversion. The right clothes, the right car in the parking garage of a home in the right neighborhood - pop culture and material possessions seem to be the only thing occupying young Iranian minds today. In the absence of strong leadership with a viable and coherent vision for change, political activism is seen as imprudent and not worth the trouble it may invite. Thus, in my opinion, the Iranian population will continue to resort to tacit resistance as long as the government does not infringe on their pursuit of a calm, well-contented life. The Islamic regime seems willing to comply with these demands in exchange for political disinterest.
However, the Iranian government is not completely free from scorn. During my time in Iran, I repeatedly heard complaints about the despondent state of the economy. Despite rising oil prices, the Islamic regime, plagued by corruption and its own ineptitude, has not delivered anything more than a recurring cycle of false promises. Inflation and unemployment are high, and insecurities rampant as the anemic economy scarcely holds the capacity to accommodate the burgeoning young and educated middle-class, with increasingly sophisticated demands. Urban centers are swelling as masses of rural-dwellers migrate to the cities in search of the phantom of better economic opportunities. But hard work and dedication seldom render as high a pay-off as political lackey-ism and unabashed swindling, with a complete disregard for the already deficient laws and regulations.
So it was only in people’s concerns over this perpetual feeling of economic insecurity that I was able to detect hints of discontent and political unrest. It seems to me then that as the educated young people mature into highly capable and motivated adults, the political pressure for changes in Iran’s political structure will be intensified in order to pave the way for more able leaders who are more sensitive to popular concerns about the state of the economy. The threshold for political and institutional reform resides more in enduring uncertainties about their future well-being of the economy than in the current lack of civil liberties.
In the end, it proved much more difficult to leave Iran than to arrive. Iranian culture is marked by the close-knit kinship ties of the extended family, which stand strong in the face of time and distance. Throughout my trip, I was received with a deluge of warmth and love by half-familiar faces as well those close relatives I would never forget. Never did I feel like a stranger among them, though so much time had passed. Notwithstanding the grand monuments and worn-down relics of my ancient culture, the highlight of my time in Iran was meeting my cousins, who were born after I left and who I fell in love with instantly. So often we forget that the lofty political dealings in which our leaders are globally engaged are seldom as far removed from ordinary life as they appear. Constant technological innovation gives the impression that the world is a smaller place, but politics can keep families and loved-ones light years apart. As a student of international affairs, I am aware of the historical and political complexities that have led to the current world political matrix, but the idealist in me cannot suppress the hope that greater mutual understanding through open diplomacy can lead to a better world.

[1] CIA World Factbook https://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/factbook/geos/ir.html