A year ago today the Islamic Republic of Iran elected Hassan Rouhani its seventh president. He promised to revive the economy and improve relations with the outside world. Although the economy continues to stagger under international sanctions, Rouhani has stemmed the collapse of the rial and slowed inflation. Now it's nearly impossible to find a hotel room in Tehran, as businessmen are flocking to the city in the hope that sanctions will be lifted, and tourism has increased dramatically – an Iranian tour guide tells of meeting a dozen North American Jews who were visiting the tomb of Esther and Mordechai, in Hamedan. The biggest change, say Iranians from all walks of life, is a new sense of calm, a palpable drop in the stress level.
Less oppressive measures by the Pasdaran (as the Army of the Guardians of the Islamic Revolution, or revolutionary guards, are commonly known) and Basij (the Organization for Mobilisation of the Oppressed, or volunteer militia) are part of it. Rouhani’s pursuit of an agreement on Iran’s nuclear programme has distanced fears of US or Israeli air strikes. Rouhani addresses his compatriots’ problems in regular televised question-and-answer sessions.
But Iran remains haunted by the last six months of 2009, when the perennial rift between reformers and fundamentalists led the country to the brink of civil war. The Pasdaran and Basij, who are loyal to Ali Khamenei, the supreme leader of Iran, violently repressed the "green movement" that supported the reformist presidential candidate Mir-Hossein Mousavi. Thousands were arrested and about 100 were killed.
In recent weeks a 2009 video of the Pasdaran commander Maj Gen Mohammed Ali Jafari has surfaced on the internet. They had to prevent Mousavi’s election to save Iran, Jafari told his men in a private meeting. The video is widely seen as proof that Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s re-election in 2009 was rigged.
In a religious-video shop owned by a Basij, I found a DVD titled Rip Mask. The cover shows the cracked face of Mohammad Khatami, the reformist president who governed from 1997 until 2005. "It's about the reformers' secret plot to take over the country," says Vahab, the shop's 30-year-old owner. "Mousavi would have been dangerous if he had been elected."
A few kilometres away two upper-middle-class women recall the heady days of the green movement. “It was the most beautiful time in this country. It was great,” says one, an advertising executive. “It was wonderful, wonderful,” says the other, a retired teacher. The way government forces “cracked down on those kids should not be forgotten”.
During the 2009 revolt, young people chanted “Death to the Leader” in the streets. But 25 years after he was chosen by his fellow mullahs to replace Ayatollah Khomeini, Khamenei is still firmly in power. Presidents come and go; the supreme leader stays.
The clergy learned in 2009 that they cannot rule without the consent of the people. And Iranians who have chafed under religious rule have understood that it’s not going away. Hassan Rouhani represents a new-found modus vivendi: a compromise that thrills nobody but offers an acceptable face of theocracy.
Rouhani is a cleric who sat for 20 years in Iran’s majlis, or parliament, where he chaired the foreign-policy and defence committees. He is that miraculous thing a man from within the system who is determined to change the system.
It’s a difficult and dangerous undertaking. Ayatollah Muhammad Taqi Mesbah Yazdi leads the Jebhe Paydari (Steadfast Front) faction within the conservative-dominated majlis. Mesbah Yazdi recently mocked the president for having earned a master’s degree and doctorate in law at Glasgow Caledonian University, in Scotland, after earlier religious and legal studies in Iran. “Where did you learn religion? At the seminary in Qom or in Britain?” Mesbah Yazdi asked him.
When Rouhani spoke to Barack Obama by telephone during the General Assembly of the United Nations last year, even the supreme leader expressed reservations.
Gholam Reza Mahmoudi, who is 67, sells mugs and key chains showing Ayatollahs Khomeini and Khamenei at the Basij market, near Revolution Square.
“I was happy when Obama and Rouhani talked,” he says. “If they talk together they can solve problems. I heard that Obama’s middle name is Hussein. Because his middle name is Hussein the Iranian nation respects him. Imam Hossein [a Shia hero, grandson of the Prophet Muhammad], is beloved by all Iranians.”
Rouhani’s immediate predecessor, Ahmadinejad, said the Holocaust was a lie and that Israel should be wiped off the face of the earth. In September last year Rouhani said, “Not only do we never deny crimes by the Nazis, we condemn them.” But, he continued, “These crimes committed by Nazis are not a valid reason to occupy other people’s land and turn them into refugees.” These carefully weighed words are criticised by hardliners.
High-tech president
Rouhani, sometimes called the “high-tech president” or even the “geek mullah”, has asked authorities to stop blocking Facebook, YouTube and other sites. He appealed to the minister for communications to increase access to the internet – already used by 54 per cent of Iranians.
Seven youths were arrested last month after a video of them dancing to Pharrell Williams's song Happy went viral on YouTube. Rouhani tweeted a quote from one of his own speeches: "Happiness is our people's right. We shouldn't be too harsh on behaviours caused by joy." Six of the seven have been released.
Rouhani’s supporters speak hopefully of his informal alliance with two former reformist presidents, Khatami and Hashemi Rafsanjani, and with Hassan Khomeini, a grandson of the ayatollah. Rouhani is often compared to Khatami, whose attempts to reform the country were thwarted by hardliners. Rather than embrace Khatami, the West – particularly George W Bush – sabotaged him, and Iran entered eight dark years under Ahmadinejad. “We hope the West learned from the experience,” says Javad Kachoueian, Iran’s ambassador to Ireland.
I meet Pouria, a 26-year-old, and his girlfriend, Soudabeh, who is 23, on the terrace of the House of Arts restaurant in central Tehran. “I voted for Rouhani because he was the least bad,” says Pouria, who is studying for a master’s degree in cinema. Soudabeh, an actor and theatre director, refused to vote, “because someone who had gone through the filters of the system” – been vetted by the Guardian Council, the most influential body in Iran – couldn’t be trusted”.
Although the couple see little improvement in the economy, Pouria wants to give Rouhani the benefit of the doubt. “I believe there are some people in the current administration who are trying to improve the situation,” he says.
Soudabeh wears eye make-up and a bright-green gypsy-like scarf and dress over jeans. “If I’d worn this under Ahmadinejad I would have ended up in the van,” she says. The morals police used to stop women wearing “bad hijab”, take them to police stations, hang a number around their necks, photograph them and record their offence in digital records. The practice has almost stopped, despite appeals by the judiciary to the police to enforce Islamic dress rules.
Human-rights groups, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, and the UN special rapporteur for Iran deplore the fact that, despite Rouhani’s positive rhetoric and the liberation of 80 prisoners, the Islamic Republic of Iran continues to hold 895 prisoners of conscience and last year carried out the second-highest number of executions in the world, after China.
“Rouhani can’t fight on every front,” the woman advertising executive says. “He’s trying to fight only one issue at a time. The nuclear negotiations are by far the biggest issue. Without an agreement the country is going belly-up. It’s his biggest battle domestically.”
Hardliners fear Rouhani might give up too much in the talks with the US, Russia, China, Britain, France and Germany. A group calling itself the Concerned lobbies against an agreement. Negotiators reassure the public that they will not abandon Iran’s “inalienable right” to enrich uranium. For the time being Khamenei supports the negotiations. Vendors at the Basij market say they rely on the leader to veto any agreement that would hurt Iran’s interest. Lara Marlowe continues her reports from Iran next week, on the World News pages
