Is It the Edge of Democracy?

 Zen Garden, Nanzen-ji, Kyoto (my photo)

Reflection, Spring 2018 

A year later, I am still trying to find my way,  living for and loving democracy, in a country and world increasingly authoritarian.  Two ideas are working in my head, fueled by disgust and dismay, which I am determined to turn into positive action.  Disgust with the  current administration has led me to observe that Trump is a symptom, not a cause.  I think pluralistic democracy needs citizenly grassroots leadership.  Individuals have to do things and say things, daily things, to serve. Disgust with Facebook makes me think about freedom of expression and the press, and that prompts a return to this blog.  Blogs offer hope for people who want to use social media in a way that is open and responsible.  I will therefore start blogging again, for myself and for whatsoever record it produces, in my own voice.


Water Before Religion and Oil

The world looks different from the edge of democracy.

I’m revisiting a post I drafted while traveling in Iran. Originally I published it on Facebook (December 22, 2016).  The post begins with an observation about water, about the river that runs through Esfahan (or Isfahan), Iran.  Click on the video link below for a clip about 15 seconds long.  I took the video from our hotel.  The still photo shows the river as well, but it is much more interesting in the video.


Esfahan sits about a mile up on the Iranian plateau. Jews governed here first. Some have stayed, along with Armenian Christians, who have also lived here for centuries. It’s an old city–dates to 3rd c BCE. Naqsh-e Jehan Square (known now as Imam Square) is fabled, enormous–visited by Marco Polo. The square has two mosques, a palace, and a famous tentacled bazaar in which you can easily get lost (some of us did). Jewish, Zoroastrian, Persian, Armenian Christian, Arabic, and Turkic cultures mix in the heritage. It’s a gritty large city with ancient places throughout, mud brick houses amid modern construction. It’s my favorite of the cities we visited. You can easily get to know your way around. People are welcoming even above the high Iranian norm. All you need to do is walk around the square and make friends.

The river that runs through Esfahan is now dry, has been dry for two years. In the video, you can see people walking across the riverbed. Water could be the most precious commodity in this country and region. If Pakistan or Afghanistan turns off water, central and eastern Iran are in trouble. I have to wonder if, in our complex and fraught relations with Iran (as in the Middle East and North Africa—maybe more broadly in Africa), we pay way too much attention to oil and to misunderstandings about Islam (more later about that) and way too little to water.

Connections between climate change, drought, and migration are already obvious, but mostly we aren’t addressing these connections in public discourse in the US.  That’s an understatement, just a week after the inhumane Muslim ban began its sickening excrescence.

The Islam of Our Misunderstanding

If I learned one socio-political and religious lesson in Iran last month, it’s this:  Americans misunderstand Iran.  Maybe it’s the country Americans misunderstand the most. Americans often tell me that Iran is a bad and dangerous place, a place dominated by a monolithic and menacing Islam.  Neither belief is correct enough to stand on its own.  Neither is true enough to rise above stereotype.  It’s true that the Iranian government limits freedom.  But there is something else going on, which I want to emphasize. Ordinary people you meet in Iran distinguish between their own values, faith, and practices and the actions of a government many of them do not support. They figure we have the same issue in the US, and they worry it will get worse for us—and hence for them—now. They worry about Turkey for similar reasons.

Iranians also see difference and multiplicity in Islam, and they wish Americans would comprehend that diversity. Politics and Islam do often intersect of course.  But they also diverge. People I met demonstrated by their actions that desire for democracy is alive and well in Iran, and so is secularism.  At the same time respect for Islam is palpable and varied in the way people express it.  Many people showed us by their warmth and welcome, including their behavior when we visited mosques and sites like Khomeini’s tomb, that they see Islam as pluralistic and tolerant.  I learned that the tolerance goes back millennia. (Our guide tells us every story in Iran starts in 5,000 BCE.) Zoroastrianism is tolerant, and it has influenced society, politics, and religion.  True, most people are Shiite. Sunnis also live in Iran, as well as Christians, Zoroastrians, Jews, Iranians of African descent, Arabs, Turks, and Kurds, semi-nomadic tribes who’ve kept their own cultures, people from across Eurasia, many of whom look Asian. It’s a kaleidoscope of faith, culture, social practice. Yes, the mullahs who govern are Shiite. As for secularism and faith in the general population, you see the array you encounter among Christians and Jews in the US. To me, Shia Islam looks in social practice to be similar to mainstream Protestantism.

Ordinary people are proud of diversity and eager to meet newcomers. Some women dress in ways that signal deep faith, but that may be merely social practice, distinguishing between what one wears in one’s house and what one wears outside. You cover outside; you don’t cover in. Men and women may dress stylishly and yet be secular or devout to one degree or another. You can’t tell unfailingly by the way people dress.

Spend two weeks in Iran and you are baffled by the ignorance behind assertions that Islam is a monolithic thing.  It isn’t.  We misunderstand that fact to a terrible and tragic degree.

Above all, Iranians want peace.  On signposts or murals on nearly every block of every town or city, you find pictures of martyrs of the Iran-Iraq War. 360,000 dead. They aren’t forgetting that sacrifice.  They do not intend to be drawn into conflict like that again. As the Sunni Arab world spirals out of control, ordinary Iranians hold firmly to hopes that most peace-loving Americans would have no trouble recognizing.