Young and Defiant in Tehran. Shahram Khosravi
I speak of being afflicted with “westitis” the way I would speak of being afflicted with cholera. If this is not palatable, let us say it is akin to being stricken by heat or by cold. But it is not that either. It is something more on the order of being attacked by tongue worm. Have you ever seen how wheat rots? From within? . . . In any case we are dealing with a sickness, a disease imported from abroad and developed in an environment receptive to it. (Al-e Ahmad 1982: 3)
The medical aspect of the gharbzadegi discourse is not exceptional. Since the early twentieth century, the state of Westernization has been seen as a syndrome, and addressed with medical terminology, such as “cultural schizophrenia” (Shaygan 1992), “mental confusion” (ashoftegie fekri) (Shadman 1326/1947), or “indigestion” (sou-e hazemeh).10 Such arguments are not necessarily made only by Islamists. Many secular intellectuals—usually educated in the West—use the same approach. For instance, Daryoush Ashuri compares the Westernization of Iran with the historical invasions by Alexander the Great, the Arabs, and the Moguls. He claims that Westernization is the latest invasion of Iran. Unlike previous invasions, which were military, this one has “gradually penetrated our skin” (Ashuri 1376/1997: 145–47). Since the Revolution, the authorities have utilized such medical jargon to legitimate their occidentophobia. Conflating the language of health programs with cultural politics, the Islamic regime has depicted the way the nation’s purity and health are demolished by “cultural microbes” (mikrobha-ye farhangi), which penetrate the nation’s body and cause “cultural injuries” (asibha-ye farhangi). Accordingly, to immunize the nation, the regime emphasizes the necessity of a “cultural vaccination” (vaksan-e farhangi).
Since the youth are all seen as passion (nafs) and particularly vulnerable to “cultural threats,” the focus of the Islamic regime has been on how to “protect” young people from moral hazards and prevent them from becoming the gateways of “cultural invasion.” Uncontrollable mass communication from abroad, through radio, satellite TV channels, videos, and finally the Internet, have been identified as primary threats “broadcasting pollution.” In December 1999, the Valy-e faqih, Ayatollah Khomeini, expressed his anxiety in this way:
Audio and visual waves that are worse than warships and warplanes are being used to disseminate a rogue culture aimed at reasserting the domination of the enemies of Islam. They have paved the way for the imposition of unethical values and Westernized ideas in order to captivate and humiliate Muslims.11
Mohammad Javad Larijani, then director of Islamic Republic of Iran Broadcasting (IRIB), believes that the influences of these foreign sounds and images will subvert the process of constructing the Muslim subject:
Can we believe that the highly motivated youth of the country will continue to be true patriots, correct in their way of thinking, and observant of religious duties while they are exposed to these destructive programs and watching them incessantly? Will they not dwindle into day-dreaming, humiliated, misled and self-deceived individuals?12
Conducting a war against nondomestic media has been the main task of the regime since the Revolution. Throughout the 1980s video recorders were illicit in Iran. Possessing, renting, selling, or buying them was punishable. In the early 1990s, the Majlis passed a law to legalize “owning and using a video cassette recorder.” While the Iranian authorities were busy discussing whether or not to legalize videos, a more powerful threat arrived, namely satellite television, which has ever since presented the authorities with a problem. They are no longer able to control the flow, and a steady stream of TV programs is entering the country. While the Majlis were still confused about what to do, 500,000 satellite dishes were installed on roofs in Tehran.13 The use of such dishes was the most controversial cultural issue in Iran throughout the 1990s. The conservatives began a rigorous propaganda campaign against satellite TV. The satellites were called an “enemy device for eliminating Islam,”14 and seen as to signifying “hooliganism and social corruption.”15 The director of IRIB used a “purity and danger” discourse in his statements against the satellite:
It infatuates [people] by unhealthy information. . . . The contamination caused by satellites is far more dangerous than the pollution of the living environment. Now that sensitivity to pollution of the environment has reached such a state that smoking is forbidden in public places and even in apartments and large buildings, how can we remain indifferent to broadcasting pollution?16
The moral police conduct sporadic hunts for receiver dishes on roofs or in courtyards. People are encouraged to check if their neighbors have receivers. Helicopter hunts to identify houses with satellite dishes have also been conducted. A wave of attacks on satellite dishes was launched in late October 2001, on the order of the authorities. The police impounded more than 5,000 satellite dishes in Tehran and some 150,000 nationwide in less than two weeks.17
Engineering Goodness
Another modus operandi of the war against cultural crimes has been the reshaping of morals. The “salvation-oriented” mission of the Islamic government has been directed to helping the country achieve an “inner piety” (safa-ye baten). This requires cleansing the nation from “internal impurities” caused by “satanic temptations” and warding off the external threats of “cultural invasion” and “Weststruckness.” This was conducted first through a Cultural Revolution (Enqelab-e Farhangi) and then by establishing the Ministry of Islamic Culture and Guidance in 1986 in order to orchestrate the national culture and control over cultural activities and productions.
The Islamic Republic then converted the media, the education system, art and film production into vessels for promoting Islamic and revolutionary values (see Benard and Khalilzad 1984: 117). The IRIB became an ideological apparatus for legitimating the clergy. The content gradually became dominated by religious seminars. Programs such as Akhlaq dar khanevadeh (Ethics in the Family) or Mr. Gherra‘ti’s lectures on Islamic ethics and rules supported and reinforced Islamic values and lifestyles. Through its numerous soap operas, TV serials, programs on martyrs and their families, documentaries or feature films on the war, and mythologizations of clerics and personalities of the Revolution, IRIB attempts to (re)produce images of the ideal Muslim revolutionary man and woman. Soap operas of historical personalities are usual, such as Emam Ali (biography of Imam Ali), Maryam-e Moghadas (life story of Saint Mary), Amir Kabir (biography of a reformist prime minister in the mid-nineteenth century), and Bu-Ali Sina (biography of the tenth-century philosopher called Avicenna in the West). Programs about the “cultural invasion” and its “domestic agents” also occupy a large part of IRIB’s broadcasting. Hoviat (Identity) and Sarab (Mirage) were two controversial programs that attempted to defame Westernized Iranians.18
IRIB usually puts youths into two categories, either as zealous revolutionaries and faithful Muslims who, through heroic efforts, will save the country and build a decent future, or as deceived and bidard hedonists. It creates an image of an army of young people ready to execute their leaders’ directives (ummat-e hamishe dar sahneh). They forge the ideal image of an “Iranian Muslim youth,” a conscious (agah) warrior (mobarez), ready for self-sacrifice (isargar) and a “guardian of values.” For instance, the soap opera Khaneyi Misazim (We Build Our House) is a melodrama that attempts to offer “proper models” for building a life based on “correct social and economic relationships.” Work, endeavor, humanity, correct relationships, and economic discipline are central themes. The stereotype of bidard youth is also a recurrent theme in soap operas. For instance, Khat-e Ghermez (The Red Line) is about the “identity-lessness” (bihoviyati) of two young men. Free from “family ties and norms” (gheyd va bandhay-e khanevadegi), the two embark on an aimless journey.19 Anti-bidard youth propaganda is also a central theme in state-run youth magazines, such as Iran-e Javan, Omid-e Javan (Hope of Youth), Javanan-e Roosta (Village Youth), Javan-e Khanvadeh (Family Youth), Donya-ye Javanan (World of Youth), Roshd-e Javan (Youth’s Growth), Javanan-e Emrooz (Today’s Youth), Fazilat-e Javanan (Youth’s Virtue), and Mo’oud-e Javan (The Promise of the Young).
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