I posited at the end of the last post not one Iranian revolution, but two. This is not the standard historiographic framework in which the revolution is examined, and I wouldn’t push the idea too far (it was mainly to justify dividing the story up into two posts), but it does add emphasis to an important aspect of this story which is often overlooked with the benefit of hindsight. That is, that while Iran became an Islamic republic in the years that followed, this is not what many of the revolutionaries had in mind when they helped remove the Shah. The process by which Khomeini and his followers prevailed over these other revolutionary factions in the years after the first revolution, will be the subject of this post. This dichotomy is supported by Khomeini himself, who in 1983 referred to this period of consolidation (and specifically the taking of hostages at the American embassy) as a ‘second revolution’. The character which the revolution in Iran took had profound consequences for the west, and especially America’s, relationship with the region (largely due to the hostage crisis), for the civil war in Lebanon, which had been raging since 1975, and of course relations with Iraq, with whom Iran would be embroiled in a devastating war from 1980 to 1988.
In the political intrigues which follow, I will broadly divide the conflict into two camps: the clerical or ‘Khomeinist’ faction, who were working towards a theocratic state led by an Islamic jurist (Khomeini himself, until his death in 1989) and their erstwhile allies in the revolution who, while they envisaged some kind of role for the clergy in the new order, did not necessarily foresee that it would take the kind of leading role that Khomeini and his followers sought. At the moment of Khomeini’s return, however, it was far from clear that these two factions were working at cross purposes to each other. On the contrary, while Khomeini’s first speech after arrival at the airport was uncompromising in its attitude to the government left behind by the Shah and led by Bakhtiar (‘I shall appoint my own government. I shall slap this government in the mouth’), he nonetheless appointed as the prime minister of his rival administration Mehdi Bazargan, whose background did not differ profoundly from Bakhtiar’s. Bazargan agreed to be prime minister only after a few days of reflection, after warning Khomeini that he did not favour a thoroughly Islamic state apparatus, and that he was committed to western-style democratic principles.
It appears that in these early months, Khomeini either believed he would have to compromise his principles by co-operation with less committed Islamists for practical purposes (he and his supporters were not at this stage in a sufficiently strong position to overpower all opposition), or that he was biding his time and playing down his real intentions until his supporters were ready to elbow their fellow-revolutionaries out of the way. Certainly from their meetings with Khomeini in Paris before the revolution, non-clerical opposition figures like Bazargan, Banisadr and Sanjabi had been left with the impression that the Ayatollah favoured merely an advisory role for the clergy, with politics left to the politicians and himself as a distant, spiritual figurehead rather than an actual ruler. This was in line with their own ambitions. Given that Khomeini never subsequently explained his thinking in this period, his intentions and strategy at any given stage are somewhat opaque, and we are left to guess what he was up to based on his later actions and statements made at the time. He held a press conference (this is the only picture I’ve ever seen in which Khomeini is smiling) to announce he had appointed Bazargan.
It is worth quoting at some length what he said:
‘. . . through the guardianship that I have from the holy lawgiver I hereby pronounce Bazargan as the Ruler, and since I have appointed him, he must be obeyed. The nation must obey him. This is not an ordinary government. It is a government based on the shari‘a. Opposing this government means opposing the shari‘a of Islam and revolting against the shari‘a, and revolt against the government of the shari‘a has its punishment in our law. Revolt against God’s government is a revolt against God. Revolt against God is blasphemy.’
This was innovative in Islamic political thought. Sovereignty, Khomeini was claiming, did not ultimately lie with the people or a monarch, or indeed Khomeini himself. It lay with God, and as God’s appointed guardian on earth, the Ayatollah was taking upon himself the role of interpreting God’s will in political matters. At numerous vital junctures in the months ahead, Khomeini would increasingly play this trump card: asserting that to defy his will was defying God’s. Khomeini’s contention that the government should be headed by a ‘guardianship of the jurist’ (Vilayat-e Faqih) was central to the conflicts that lay ahead. He had expounded it in his writings but in the early stages of the revolution, these ideas were not widely known to the public, or even to his more secular allies. Khomeini kept this concept, which would make him the supreme authority in the state, relatively quiet for the moment, which was probably a wise course of action. Even among his fellow Ayatollahs it was not accepted for the most part. Opponents argued that within traditional Shi’a thought, Vilayat-e Faqih had merely extended to widows and orphans, but not to political control over society as a whole. The leading Ayatollah who argued that the clergy should take a back seat in politics was Mohammad Kazem Shariatmadari:
Shariatmadari had been, for the past few decades, one of the leading liberal thinkers among the Marja (the highest-level Ayatollahs in Shi’ism) and an advocate of peaceful protest against the Shah, for the implementation of the constitution of 1906. This would have retained the Shah as a weak constitutional monarch and made Iran a representative democracy. The Shah and his regime, with their characteristic stupidity, cracked down hard on Shariatmadari and other pacifist opponents, funneling opposition into more violent, confrontational channels. After his massacre of unarmed protesters, Shariatmadari’s condemnation of the Shah’s regime as ‘unIslamic’ was one of the milestones on the road to its collapse, depriving it of legitimacy in the eyes of the masses. After the revolution, however, Shariatmadari’s call for a constitutional democratic form of government, with the clergy once again retreating from political activity, made him an influential opponent of Khomeini and his followers.
Even if Khomeini was content to keep his concept of a Vilayat-e Faqih muted for the moment, it is clear that his supporters were mobilising for such an eventuality from an early stage. A secret organisation set up by Khomeini was already in existence before the fall of the Shah. After the Ayatollah’s return in February, the Islamic Republican Party (the IRP) was founded, which would play a leading role in consolidating the Islamists’ power. Among its founders were some of the central figures in the power-struggle ahead: Mohammad Beheshti, Ali Khamenei, Hashemi Rafsanjani and Mohammad Javad Bahonar. I find that its usually easier to remember a name when you can put a face to it, and there are a lot of names and middle-aged men with beards in what lies ahead, so we might as well have a look at some of them now:
Behesti was the leading member of the IRP from the start. For him and his followers, the first step was to establish some kind of mandate for the foundation of an Islamic republic. This would not be difficult, given that such a state was one of the rallying-calls in the protests against the Shah. A referendum was held at the end of March in which 99% of the electorate voted in favour. What is crucial to remember at this stage is that the ballot simply asked if the voter wanted an Islamic republic or not. No definition of what that would mean was offered, and while almost everyone could agree that they wanted an Islamic republic, what that actually meant differed widely in practice. These differing interpretations and the latent conflict they involved could be papered over in the heady days after the revolution’s victory, but they could not be avoided forever, or even for long. For the moment, almost everyone could rally around the slogan at least.
Even the armed leftist groups who had suffered most from the Shah’s repression, and now emerged as the strongest military factions, besides the army, were not necessarily opposed to some religious element in the new dispensation. Of the two largest groups, the People’s Mujahedeen supported a yes in the referendum, and the Fedayan-e Khalq (the ‘People’s Majority’) renounced armed struggle and supported the Islamists on a range of issues, hoping (in vain) to be tolerated as a peaceful opposition. Iran’s communists, the Tudeh (masses) party also supported not only the revolution, but the clerical faction in the coming struggles against their leftist rivals. It may seem strange to us that left-wing Marxist groups like these could support an Islamic element in governance, but we must recall the strain of ‘red Shi’ism’ discussed in the last post, exemplified by the writings of Ali Shariati, which was extremely popular among left-leaning intellectuals in Iran in the 1970s. This fusion of Shia Islam and Marxist thought saw no contradiction between religion and practical socialism; on the contrary, it saw true adherence to Shia principles as necessarily bringing into existence the kind of socially-just and egalitarian state of affairs advocated by Socialists. In many respects, it can be compared to the brand of ‘liberation theology’ which emerged in Latin American Catholicism in the 1970s and ’80s, which found itself in conflict with the more conservative establishment of the church in Rome. These left-wing Islamists have been largely forgotten due to their defeat and suppression by the more conservative brand of ‘black Sh’ism’ which prevailed in the revolution.
How Khomeini brought about this defeat has much to do with the development of his own armed groups to counter the threat of the leftists, which was one of his first priorities. Of the several groups set up, by far the most important were the Sepah-e Pasdaran-e Enqelab-e Eslami (literally, Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps) and Hezbollah (the Party of God-note that usually when Hezbollah are mentioned in the west, the reference is to Lebanese Hezbollah, a later movement that was supported by the Iranian government). Sepah would in time become an elite part of the state’s military apparatus. In the atmosphere of fervid enthusiasm, they had grown rapidly to 11,000 members by September 1979, and were under the command of Hashemi Rafsanjani. The Hezbollah were less a formal military organisation than a paramilitary gang, extremely effective at intimidating gatherings of Khomeini’s opponents, fighting with clubs and other improvised weapons. Hezbollah would, in 1980, be instrumental in driving the leftist groups either underground or into exile by attacking their meeting places and bookstores.
The next step was to flesh out what was meant by an ‘Islamic Republic’, with the writing of a constitution for said republic. This was where Khomeini could expect the greatest ideological resistance which, besides the armed leftist groups, came from those members of the interim government who belonged to Bazargan’s Freedom Movement. This party had similarities to the earlier National Front of Mossadegh, advocating liberal democratic values with a more overt Islamic cast than the National Front. A good European comparison might be the Christian Democrat parties of the postwar period, basically seeking to adopt most of a the trappings of a modern parliamentary democracy, but keeping the religious influence as a foundation. For the sake of shorthand, I will hereafter refer to them as the ‘moderates’, while recognising that that term is less than ideal. In the discussions surrounding a new constitution, these moderate Islamists were, in the beginning, a formidable obstacle to the full implementation of Khomeini’s program, given that they dominated the government which was responsible for drafting the constitution. Here are some of their leading members:
Ayatollah Shariatmadari was also consulted in the drafting of this constitution. The first version was published in June 1979, and merely gave a weak advisory role to the clergy. There was nothing about the Vilayat-e Faqih. It is interesting to note at this stage that Khomeini seems to have judged that the clergy’s claims to authority had been pushed as far as they would go under the circumstances. He declared the draft constitution ‘correct’ and approved it for referendum. The Freedom Movement and its allies, therefore, seemed on the brink of realising their ambitions. Then, something strange happened. Instead of quitting while they were ahead, the moderates felt duty-bound to have the new constitution debated by an elected assembly before its ratification, as they had promised their supporters. Despite warnings that, under the circumstances, any elections for an assembly would be dominated by IRP supporters, they allowed this to take place. In August, a body of ‘experts’ was elected to review the draft constitution. 55 of the 73 members were clerics aligned with Khomeini who, no doubt seeing his chance, announced that the new constitution should be entirely Islamic, and that non-clerical members of the body should not even enter into discussion on the religious elements.
It is in this period that the Islamists begin to gain the upper hand and flex their muscles over their erstwhile revolutionary allies. Newspapers associated with the left-wing opposition were attacked and closed, Hezbollah and other groups became more assertive, attacking opposition rallies and forcing women to cover themselves up in the street. Behesti, as chairman of the constitutional assembly, led the discussion towards acceptance of the Vilayat-e Faqih. Although it continued to be resisted (Ayatollah Taleghani warned at this point: ‘may God forbid autocracy under the name of religion’) by principled individuals, these were increasingly lone voices. Far from opposing the granting of the role of supreme leader to Khomeini, the masses seemed in favour of it. Clerical opponents like Shariatmadari either didn’t have the stomach for a showdown or, like Taleghani (9 September 1979) died at this opportune moment.
There had been signs before this that the provisional government lacked real power. Orders were being followed far more assiduously by the IRP and the Council of the Islamic Revolution. A great deal of the day-to-day running of the country was also being exercised by the thousands of komitehs (committees) which had been set up around the country as the Shah’s government collapsed. These were local organisations which, in their autonomy and ad-hoc nature, are in many ways analgous to the Soviets that exercised power ruled the early phase of the Russian revolution. By November the shape of the new constitution had emerged, giving broad powers to Khomeini as faqih (supreme leader), to be held for the rest of his life. The faqih was to be at the top of the hierarchy of government, with power to appoint the heads of the armed services and declare war or peace. It was also within his gift to appoint the heads of the national TV and radio stations, and even to remove the president if he was judged incompetent by the parliament. The faqih also had the right to veto candidates for the presidential election if he saw fit.
Such sweeping powers for an unelected position did not go uncontested. Those few remaining within the constitutional assembly, such as Banisadr, warned that it threatened to turn Iran into an autocracy again. Even if deference was paid to Khomeini personally, it was argued that after his death such powers might be abused by a less wise and righteous successor. Debates continued, long after the original time alloted to the assembly had elapsed. Despite opposition to the clerics, however, an atmosphere was intensifying with time, in which any disagreement with Khomeini could be interpreted and portrayed as a lack of revolutionary zeal. In such an atmosphere, it was easy for accusations of sympathy towards the former regime or foreign powers, to take hold in people’s imagination. Into this atmosphere, an event occurred in November which finally and decisively made public opposition to Khomeini untenable, locking Iran into a siege mentality against the outside world which benefited the clerics immensely.
Anti-American feeling had been a factor in the revolution from the very beginning. This is not surprising, given how much the population had suffered under the dictatorship of the Shah, and the United State’s steadfast support of him over many years. It is only in retrospect, however, that the enmity between Iran and the ‘Great Satan’ appears inevitable. The tacit encouragement given to the opposition by the Carter administration has been alluded to in the previous post. The American embassy played a major role in assisting the revolution by, as Bazargan later revealed, working actively to secure the army’s neutrality. The Americans’ encouragement extended to direct contact between embassy personnel and the clerical opposition. The United States, as we can see from the example of Saudi Arabia or their support of fundamentalists in Afghanistan, had no problem with fundamentalist Islam as long as it could be used as an ally against communism. Initial attitudes towards the revolutionary government in Iran reflect a belief in the State Department that Khomeini’s regime could not only be accommodated, but could become part of what Carter’s National Security Advisor, Zbigniew Brzezinski, liked to call an ‘arc of crisis’ along the Soviet Union’s southern flank, which might be used to foment instability and generally create a headache for the Russians.
Khomeini, however, was not reading the standard Cold War script, in which everyone has to choose a superpower to ally with. While his hatred of the atheistic communists was undimmed, he was also scathing of America, not because it placed the strategic interests of its neo-colonial empire above human life, but because of the materialism and inequality of the consumer culture it sought to export around the world. More pragmatic elements within his government, on the other hand, sought a restoration of relations with the United States. Despite misgivings, it was clear that Iran could not cut itself off from the outside world. For starters, the country would need someone to buy its oil, and the Americans were the world’s best customers in that respect; similarly, Iran had already paid for massive amounts of armaments which had not yet been delivered, and the Americans were holding back on delivery to wait and see whose hands they would fall into. The Iranian army also depended on the Americans for spare parts for the military hardware they already possessed. The subsequent inability to obtain these would be a huge problem in the years ahead.
Such practical considerations were of no interest to Khomeini and, after the Americans allowed the Shah into the United States on 22 October, public anger was ratcheted up several degrees. The Shah had been wandering from country to country after his flight, dying of cancer, and the Americans argued that they were admitting him on purely humanitarian grounds, so that he could receive treatment. The Iranians were having none of this, and demanded the Shah be sent back to stand trial for his crimes. Such was the tension that existed, indeed, that anyone who sought to reach out and mend relations with the United States fell under suspicion of collaboration with the enemy. This happened when Bazargan and Yazdi met Brzezinski in Algiers on 1 November, and a photograph of them shaking hands was published in an Iranian newspaper. Once again, the rift between the de jure government, impotent and tainted with accusations of lacking revolutionary zeal, and the real focus of power around Khomeini, was apparent. A group of students loyal to Khomeini decided to take matters into their own hands, confident (rightly, as it turned out) that the Ayatollah would support their actions.
After the Shah was given refuge, huge crowds had been protesting outside the American embassy in Tehran every day. On the 4 November 1979, a group emerged from the crowd and scaled the fence, then cut the padlocks on the gates, and led a storming of the embassy, during which over sixty embassy staff were taken hostage. Once again it was clear that the provisional government were utterly helpless (no police even attempted to defend the building) and that power on the streets belonged to autonomous revolutionary groups such as the ‘Muslim Student Followers of the Imam’s Line’ which had organised the embassy takeover. This is, in the west, the central event of the Iranian revolution, and I don’t want to dwell too much on the diplomatic ins and outs of it too much, given that it has been examined in so much detail elsewhere. What is significant for the story here is that Bazargan and his government immediately called for the release of the hostages and asked for Khomeini to do the same. If he had, no doubt the whole thing would have blown over, but he didn’t.
Instead, Khomeini indicated his approval and the IRC issued a statement supporting the students. Iran was here entering uncharted diplomatic waters. The inviolability of foreign embassies is basically a cornerstone of relations between countries; without it, diplomatic relations break down. The attempts to Bazargan and his allies to point this out, however, fell on deaf ears. Under the circumstances, it just made them appear more and more tarnished as sympathetic to the Americans, especially when documents seized in the embassy exposed their attempts to mend relations with them. It was clear to the prime minister that his position was untenable and he resigned on the 6 November. Khomeini announced to the country that Bazargan was ‘a bit tired and wishes to stay on the sidelines for a while.’
And the hostage crisis dragged on without end in sight. Every attempt the Carter regime made to negotiate their release ran up against the Iranians’ insistence that the Shah be handed over to them. This the Americans refused to do. The longer this went on, the more poisonous the atmosphere became, and the feeling of being picked on by American superpower only strengthened the power of Khomeini and the IRC. Under such circumstances of course, the referendum in December on the constitution resulted in an overwhelming victory for the Islamists. Khomeini was made supreme leader with all the powers he had demanded in his vision of a Vilayat-e Faqih. The new constitution also instituted the elected post of president, to be subordinate to the supreme leader. Elections were held in January 1980 for the position. Perhaps as a gesture to the still-significant middle-class constituency who supported the more liberal wing of the revolution, Khomeini vetted leading IRC members like Behesti from running, basically clearing the path for Abdolhassan Banisadr, standing as an independent, to win the election with an impressive 76% share of the vote. Here he is on the left at his inauguration. Behesti, standing next to him, looks suitably pissed off.
Although Khomeini and Banisadr were old friends, and the Ayatollah had facilitated Banisadr’s presidency, from here on in, they would generally find themselves at loggerheads, and the president stymied at every turn, not only by the supreme leader, but by the new Majlis (parliament) which, after the elections in March was dominated by the IRC and its allies. Accusations were made by the Freedom movement and the left that the vote had been rigged, and that people had been intimidated into voting for IRC candidates. What was not even concealed was the practice of a committee which filtered out candidates undesirable to the clerics. Whatever the reasons, it appears that Khomeini was prepared to offer the presidency as a sop to liberals, while securing control of the Majlis. Banisadr’s position was further undermined when Khomeini (who had to approve of the appointment) refused to accept his choice of prime minister, forcing the president to appoint an IRC-approved candidate, Mohammad-Ali Rajai, for the job. In the early part of 1981, Khomeini intensified his undermining of the presidency, accusing Banisadr of exceeding his constitutional powers and of secretly collaborating with the CIA. Many of his supporters were rounded up and imprisoned and, by June 1981, Banisadr went into hiding, eventually fleeing to Paris, where he lives to this day as a prominent spokesperson against the Islamic regime. Rajai was elected president in Banisadr’s place, although he and his prime minister. Mohammad Javad Bahonar, were killed by the People’s Mujahedeen in a bomb later that year. The same group incidentally, would also be responsible for the assassination of Behesti and 72 others, with a bomb at the IRC headquarters in June 1981.
Back in the midst of the presidential elections of 1980 (which took place in two rounds between March and May) the Americans, frustrated by a lack of progress in negotiations, made a disastrous attempt to rescue the hostages. In what was, in retrospect, an overcomplicated plan, eight helicopters flew into Iran and rendezvoused in an isolated desert region before continuing on to Tehran. They ran into a dust-storm and lost their bearings, and then, when attempted to refuel, one helicopter crashed into another killing eight crew members. The others abandoned the mission and fled, leaving classified documents in some of the abandoned helicopters with detailed plans of the rescue mission. It was an utter humiliation for the Americans and for the Iranians, a confirmation of what they suspected all along, of the Americans’ imperialist attitude towards their country and attempts to derail the revolution.
Such suspicions were of course not without foundation, given that the United States clearly had no compunction about violating the sovereignty of another nation state. It was also widely believed in Iran that the rescue mission had been thwarted by the intervention of God (the convenient dust-storm) and it only strengthened the hand of the clerics even more. This strengthening of the most radical elements of the revolution by outside attempts at intervention is a constant theme of Iran in the 1980s. Nothing smothers internal dissent than an exterior threat, and nothing brings divided factions together like a heroic national struggle for survival. We can see the same dynamic at work in revolutionary France and Russia. In this sense, the invasion by Saddam Hussein’s Iraq in September 1980 played a huge role in the Khomeinists’ consolidation of power. There is little doubt that Iraq was, at the outset the aggressor in the war. Seeking to take advantage of the revolutionary turmoil in the country and the army’s weakness, Saddam launched a surprise invasion on 22 September 1980 and, aided by the element of surprise, captured a significant amount of Iranian territory. Its initial air strikes on the Iranian air-force were bungled and ineffective, however, and the Iranians, once they had rallied, halted the Iraqi advance and settled in for a long drawn-out battle to expel the Iraqis from their territory.
Despite the major handicap associated with being unable to obtain spares for their equipment from the Americans, and the decimation of the army’s staff by the revolution, Iran had managed, by 1982, to push the Iraqis back across the border. The war might have ended there; Iran might have avoided the catastrophe that was to continue until 1988, but instead Khomeini and his supporters decided to pursue an aggressive war into Iraq. Those involved in decision-making still debate whose responsibility this was, no doubt because the war ultimately achieved nothing except take a million lives on each side and decimate the country’s infrastructure. It also contributed to the sense of Iranian victimhood against western plotting. It has to be said once again that they had good reasons to believe this. Partly due to the fact that Saddam Hussein was subsequently to become the caricature baddie on western tv-screens, we forget that at the time he was favoured by the west in the war, even if this was not officially admitted.
At the start of the war, Hussein’s army received the bulk of its supplies from the Soviet Union and France, but by the time of the Iranian offensive in 1982, the Americans were actively seeking ways to lend their support as well. The Iraqis used complicated financial ruses to disguise arms-procurement from the Americans and British and, even more controversially, were knowingly supplied by the same countries with the means for manufacturing chemical weapons. These were used from 1983 onwards against Iranian soldiers and later, against Kurdish civilians, most notoriously at Halabja, where 4-5,000 people were killed on 16 March 1988.
For the Iranians, this, and the fact that the Americans and the British refused to condemn Iraq for using chemical weapons, convinced them that they had no real interest in upholding human rights or international conventions like Geneva. What resolutions were taken at the UN condemned the use of chemical weapons in general, but it is to Iran’s credit that, while they did develop the capacity to manufacture them, Khomeini’s government declared their use to be unIslamic, and refused to use them. This last fact is interesting in that it left Iran at a significant disadvantage in the war. One of the main reasons they made peace in 1988 was the fear that Iraq would use chemical weapons on Tehran and other large cities. It does suggest a sincere principled religious outlook on the part of the revolutionary leaders, and not, as some have suggested, a cynical attempt to use religion to gain power. Even if we may not agree with Khomeini’s principles, it has to be acknowledge that he stuck to them, even at his own cost. In terms of international relations, this made him unpredictable, and therefore dangerous.
The hostage crisis is another example of this. Khomeini appears to have genuinely believed that the U.S. was plotting against Iran. Given the threat from the Soviet Union on their doorstep, it really would have made more sense for the Iranians to swallow their pride and restore good relations with the Americans. It has been seen that the Americans were only too willing to do so. Moderates like Banisadr, and more pragmatic clerics like Rafsanjani, were in favour of this. But Khomeini prevented it at every juncture. The hostages were held for a total of 444 days in the end. The Iranians waited until a few minutes after Ronald Reagan had been sworn in as president in January 1981 to release them. In fact, the hostage crisis and the bungled rescue attempt probably had a decisive impact on the failure of Carter to secure re-election. There is significant evidence, in fact, to suggest that Reagan’s campaign secretly worked with the Iranians to delay the release of the hostages to help Reagan win.
In the end, the crisis achieved little for Iran. Apart from the release of some funds the Americans had frozen, the Iranians secured few concessions in their negotiations. In return, they earned the enmity of successive American governments and an international isolation which basically continued until the agreement of January 2016 to lift sanctions against the country. None of this was necessary or inevitable. Both countries have profoundly misunderstood and demonised one another to very little purpose. The culmination of this misunderstanding was in the years of George W.Bush’s presidency, when Iraq was portrayed as America’s nemesis in some kind of global clash of civilisations between the modern secular west and Islamic fundamentalists. In fact, the Iranian regime was bemused by this ‘axis of evil’ narrative, because they had just provided the Americans with military intelligence to help defeat the Taliban in Afghanistan, whom they regarded as far more dangerous rivals than the Americans.
In fact, Iran’s conflict with the United States does not fit neatly into some narrative of an east-west clash of cultures at all. This overestimates the role played by religion in these matters. While certainly important, even at the height of revolutionary fervour in the 1980s, it was less central than is sometimes assumed. Iran’s soldiers, marching off to die in ‘human wave’ attacks against the Iraqis, were often portrayed in the western media as suicidal fanatics, dying for religion. While the rhetoric of martyrdom played a big part, research has shown that nationalism played at least as large a role in motivating them as religion. There is a discussion of this in the excellent book Revolutionary Iran by Michael Axworthy. It is also notable how little attempt was made by the Iranians to export the revolution abroad. Attempts were made to foment rebellion amongst the Shia in Iraq, with limited success. More often than not, however, they chose to defend their country against the Iranian invader; clearly national identity overrode religious. The opposite was true in Iran, where the Iraqis’ fellow Arabs in Khuzestan province might have been expected to side with Iraq, but for the most part, did not.
There were of course elements within the revolution who wanted to export it to other countries. At times, Khomeini himself seems to have encouraged this trend. Some have suggested that Iraq’s attack on Iran was driven by this fear, and that such an ambition drove Iran to prolong the war after 1982. The only place, however, in which Iran could be said to have significantly intervened was Lebanon, and in the rise of Lebanese Hezbollah, which will be dealt with in a separate post. In fact, the proponents of an expansionist Iranian revolution became, in practice, marginalised in the 1980s. Consumed by internal conflict and the Iraq war, Iran had far less influence on, for example, the war in neighbouring Afghanistan than might be expected. This is partly because the pragmatists like Rafsanjani gradually took precedence over the less prudent revolutionary elements. Pragmatism and realpolitik dictated strict Islamic principles be put aside on occasion for strategic advantage.
It has been noted in an earlier post that the Syrian regime of Assad (both father and son) was fanatical in its secularism and persecution of Islamists; it is interesting to note, however, that in the 1980s it was Islamic Iran’s most loyal ally, largely on account of the fact that they shared a common enemy in Iraq. Even more remarkable was the ambiguous relationship with Israel. Condemnation of Israel and Zionism went, of course, side by side with anti-American rhetoric in the early stages of the revolution. Israel had been a major backer of the Shah and was none too pleased to see an Islamist regime emerge in Tehran. In practice, however, there was a natural convergence of interests between Iran and Israel which could not be openly acknowledged, but which led the two countries to share intelligence, and for the Israelis to send arms to Iran. Even while they were fighting (by proxy) in Lebanon, Israel was aiding Iran in its war against Saddam Hussein, bombing Iraq’s plutonium research reactor in 1981 and even receiving permission to enter Iranian airspace for the purpose. Such collaboration, of course, had to be a closely-guarded secret.
It turned out not to be closely-guarded enough. When it came out, the Iran-Contra affair was even more shocking because, besides Israel, the backdoor means by which Iran was trading for arms included even the Great Satan itself. The Iran-Contra affair is a fascinating episode for what it reveals about the disparity between states’ avowed values and goals, and the extent to which they are prepared to subvert these apparent principles in pursuit of their strategic aims. The Americans had, since the hostage crisis, cut off all economic ties with Iran, refusing to either buy Iranian oil or sell weapons to assist them in their war with Iraq. They had also gone to some lengths to convince other countries not to sell weapons to them either, basically doing everything they could to hinder their war effort. At the same time, a war had been raging in Nicaragua since 1981 between the left-wing Sandinistas, who had overthrown the fascist dictator Somoza in 1979, and an armed group of counter-revolutionaries called the Contras. While under Carter, attempts had been made to assist the fledgling democracy under the Sandinistas, when Reagan came to power, these attempts were ended, and funding/arms was instead directed towards the Contras.
There was widespread discontent at this assistance, however, as the Contras were basically unreconstructed fascists who were engaged in widespread human-rights abuses and prepared to do almost anything to destablise Nicaragua. Although Reagan was president, Congress at this time was controlled by the Democrats, who managed to pass a bill forbidding the United States from funding the Contras. At the same time, in Lebanon (bear with me here)…a number of Americans (among other westerners) had been taken hostage by Lebanese Hezbollah, which had strong connections (some go so far as to say it was controlled by) the Islamic Republic of Iran. By its own policy of not paying ransoms to (or even negotiating with) kidnappers, the United States government was hamstrung in its efforts to secure the return of these hostages. So, the Reagan administration was faced with three things it wasn’t allowed to do-fund the Contras, ransom the hostages in Lebanon, and supply Iran with arms. It was realised that, with Israeli help, they could do all three.
Basically, the scheme worked like this: Israel would secretly supply Iran with American weapons and spare parts, Iran would pay Israel, who would pass on these funds to the Contras in return for replacement of their weapons by America. In return for this, Iran would ensure that the Islamist groups in Lebanon would release their American hostages. This was going on from November 1985, and worked like a charm until August of the following year, when the arrangement was leaked by a Lebanese newspaper. It was shortly afterwards confirmed by both the Iranians and Americans, for both of whom it was deeply embarrassing, and who both made every effort to limit the damage and shelter top-level officials from responsibility. What it does show that there was no obstacle in private to dealings with the ‘enemy’, but that public postures based on either religious principle or commitment to human rights and democracy, were largely a fiction, and indeed remain so to this day.
By the time of the Iran-Contra scandal, it can be said that the Islamic revolution in Iran had well and truly consolidated its power, and was here to stay. There is no hard and fast date we can put this at. Personally, I think the decree of December 1982 is a good point at which we can say the revolution came to an end. In this, the government sought to bring under its control the various komitehs and Revolutionary Guard groups, clearly asserting its right to a monopoly of violence, to rein in the revolutionary fervour that had served it well to that point but which, as in all revolutions, could ultimately become destabilising if given free rein too long. This is not to say that Iran was from then on a stable, untroubled society. Far from it, apart from the devastation caused by the war with Iraq, there continued to be rivalries and disputes in the corridors of power. Perhaps the most prominent confrontation was between Khomeini and his designated successor, Hussein-Ali Montazeri (below), who had once belonged to the most radical wing of the revolution, and was one of the most eager to export it abroad.
As the 1980s progressed, however, Montazeri also became concerned with the government’s growing authoritarianism, his critique growing in confidence as he became more clearly identified as successor to Khomeini and a group of followers correspondingly gathered around him. His downfall came in the aftermath of the execution of thousands of mostly left-wing prisoners in 1988, which Khomeini had personally ordered. Montazeri was sidelined and eventually placed under house arrest, but remained a prominent critic of the Islamic republic (which he claimed was not being run on Islamic lines) until his death in 2009. His funeral, incidentally, became a rallying point for the protests of that year against the re-election of Ahmadinejad.
When Khomeini did die in 1989, his replacement was Ali Khamenei, who had been elected president in 1981 to replace the assassinated Rajai. Khameini’s prime minister, Mir Hosein Musavi (the pairing lasted until 1989), was to become a leader of the reformist movement of 2009, in which he ran against Ahmadinejad and accused the latter’s campaign of fixing the results. As the prison massacres would indicate, Iran became in many ways as repressive as it had been under the Shah. The organisation created to replace SAVAK, the SAVAMA, differed little, not only in its name, but in terms of cruelty. Some of its members were even recruited from former SAVAK operatives, rehabilitated for the purpose. Notwithstanding all of these teething troubles, by 1982, the essentials of the Islamic regime were in place, and no alternative, whether leftist, or sympathetic towards the Shah, stood any chance of replacing it. This is a massive element in the story of political Islam over the past half century: the establishment of an Islamic state of 50 (today 80) million people, governed along theocratic lines, in the heart of the what America liked to see as its middle-eastern strategic chessboard, and which was literally on the Soviet Union’s doorstep. It has already been noted, however, how surprisingly limited was Iran’s role as a fomenter of Islamic revolution abroad. Although the Iranian revolution produced a regime that was outwardly hostile to ‘the west’ and the United States in particular, it would be deeply misleading to conclude from this that, from this point on, political Islam and the west were locked in an ideological battle which has continued unbroken to this day. Nothing could be further from the truth.
The country which confounds this narrative is Afghanistan, where many of the forces that would come to characterise the Salafist movement of the 1990s onwards would coalesce. Before we come to the Afghan wars which followed the Soviet invasion of 1979, however, it might be useful to backtrack a bit and explain some of the other conflicts which have fed into the growth of militant Islam. One of my main purposes in this blog, after all, has been to explain some of the lesser-known corners of the Muslim world, whose wars occasionally pop up in the news and which seem incomprehensible to most of us. One of the most incomprehensible of these conflicts, which has been mentioned once or twice in this post, was Lebanon, which was ostensibly one of the most prosperous and peaceful corners of the middle-east until a devastating and prolonged civil war erupted in 1975. This will be the subject of the next post. After that, my plan is to make detours to Pakistan, Sudan, Iraq and Libya, as well as Yemen and the Persian Gulf states, to examine the development of political Islam in these countries (as opposed to a comprehensive history of them) in the last few decades. Afghanistan will then be examined, in many ways the fulcrum around which this story revolves, as well as the Algerian and Yugoslav civil wars, which were also vital episodes.
End of part 4
Featured image above: eyes of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.