PART 2.1 A concept, apart from the common definition, also creates and incites personal significance in an individual’s mind, and is contingent on the unique events that a person encounters or experiences (with regards to that particular concept).
For example, the concept of “faith” is different for the spiritualist and mystic, who has had a religious experience, than the person who defines faith as observing the Sharia rules and practices. The different views stem from their individual experiences. Similarly, our take on concepts can shift more than once during our lives. The rationale behind concepts may change slightly or even fundamentally with new experiences.
For me, before prison, the concept of “democracy” was closely tied with the concept of “freedom”. My greatest concern was to lead a quality life that excluded unreasonable restrictions designed to limit my freedom. My main question with respect to politics was, “How could we provide human beings with the opportunity to live free, in its most accurate and complicated sense of the word?”
[Before prison, I found the] the concept of “power”, due to its controlling, limiting, and restricting nature, to be undesirable and negative. Even though the role that power plays in controlling dangerous human behaviour was clear [to me], I still had not experienced a situation where I felt the necessity of power as a factor that would impose regulations and discipline in life.
My [drive] for freedom allowed the most complex forms of power, even in its colloquial sense, enter my understanding of politics. In prison, however, the problems I was [forced to face] changed. Subsequently, my mental priorities changed as well.
If my main preoccupation before my arrest and imprisonment was “freedom”, my largest concern inside prison is “security and safety”!
In prison, my core demand has been to not get assaulted or abused by anyone. Under these circumstances, I find democracy valuable when interpreted and defined as the “rule of law”. In fact, during the different stages of my incarceration- from interrogations to trials, the verdict, exile, my transfer, and all the events that ensued- the most important political question has been: “ how can a person be bound to respect limits and boundaries, [to avoid] the infliction of harm onto others?“.
At times, during these two years or so, I have felt like a ball being used as a toy by a kid who delinquently kicks [me] anywhere he wishes. This feeling, given my sensibility to freedom, has at times infuriated me (My only comfort in this mess is that I am apparently in control of my mind- and my mind follows its own internal logic).
It is under such conditions that I have realized the unequivocal necessity of a law that could protect us from the unbridled will and whim of others. Contrary to the explicit text of the country’s criminal code, and without any evidence or proof, I was convicted of a charge so incompatible with my nature, essence, and personality that I was able to grasp the meaning of the phrase: “A bad or oppressive law is better than no law.” With an oppressive law, what constitutes the illegal act are clear and the consequential punishments are known. However, with lawlessness, you think you are supposed to attend university and continue your studies, but then you end up serving a prison sentence in exile.
If before imprisonment my preoccupation with complex aspects of freedom tied me to such post-constructionists as Gilles Deleuze and Michel Foucault, the prison experience has made me sympathetic to John Locke and Thomas Hobbs, whose main preoccupations were the law and the social contract.
Such changes in my views are only explicable in the context of my experience since my incarceration. In ward 6 of Karoun prison in Ahvaz, at times, I really felt like I was living on the brink of what distinguishes a human’s life from an animal’s. Under those conditions, nothing was more dear to me than [the existence of] a binding law that would guarantee my safety and provide me with personal boundaries for the purpose of thinking and reflecting. If anyone thinks that morals and ethics or customs could play such a role [in place of a binding law], they are entirely mistaken. I, with all my pretension of respect for democracy and intellect, was not prepared to give my friends, who were dealing with the same problems as me, the opportunity to sleep on the bed [in the prison cell] or take a shower- nor was I even ready to offer them such chances out of politeness. So, what could I expect of others?
Overpopulation and shortage or lack of resources and facilities greatly influences a human’s mentality and behavior, and can lead to aggressiveness and conflict between people. I saw so many brawls in ward 6 that I thought it would not be a bad idea for someone to show up and punish everyone so severely that they do not dare to assault one another ever again. I think the reason that people of Germany welcomed Hitler and the people of Iran welcomed Reza Khan was based on something of the same mentality. When chaos breaks out, and there is no law to set the limits for people’s behavior and actions to prevent harm on one another, then people are tempted to find someone who could impose law and order through force. Of course, I have no intention to make such a mistake and offer such solutions, especially since our situation is different than [previous] experiences [in history]. Our problem is, of course, the problem of democracy. We must try to move in a direction where the laws are approved in a reasonable way and based on collective wisdom. The responsibility of executing such laws should be issued to a democratically-elected government who is legitimate and [knows itself as] accountable to the people and the public opinion.
Although democracy is the best method of governance and facilitates the most freedom for citizens, what guarantees these freedoms is a set of binding rules and laws. What I learnt through my experience is that, on the path to achieving democracy, I should not devalue or undermine the place of “law”; otherwise, there will be no building block left for constructing a democracy.
PART 2.2. Prior to the 2009 Presidential election, “civil society” was a concept that would bring to my mind another concept: “distinction”. Living in a society where the political and cultural structure tends to homogenize people, I have always been interested in individuals who [defend their differences] against the status quo.
Since the concept of civil society allows the recognition of our differences, it found a high place in my value system. When I was not in prison, I felt that there are very few people in society who took their differences seriously and discussed them- especially when they had to pay a price for accentuating their differences. I was forced to spend a lot of energy during my activism in the Islamic Student and the Advocacy Council for the Right to Education (ACRE) to prove my differences and to create an ambiance that was desirable for me.
I could perhaps state that, throughout my life, I have always found myself unable to follow others. There has always been an internal resistance that only allows me to act as I see fit ( I am still the same way, but, as time passes, my diagnosis are different).
Given that I usually find myself in situations that are not desirable to me, my insistence to underline my differences paints me as a protesting and dissident character. During the Presidential election, however, certain events changed the political climate of the country. A deep political gap was suddenly created, and it led to a pervasive political polarization of the society. I was finding the hostility born out of the situation and the violence that ensued terrifying.
A week before the election, I sent a text message about starred students to the former head of the Student Basij association. Before, our relationship was one of humour and laughter, however, this time, he gave me such a hostile and irrefutable reply that I felt my blood had run cold. I found it extremely strange that the flexible and good-humoured person I knew had changed so drastically as a response to the political climate. He had redefined himself at the far end of radicalism and inflexibility’s spectrum. Given his verbal violence, I became apprehensive about the events that would follow the election.
I didn’t go to school the day after the election. So, when I heard that the situation at the University of Babol was tense, I called fellow activists in the Student Society and attempted to convince them to not take any action. I have never been against gatherings or sit-in protests staged by university students- perhaps I was a veteran in this field. However, this time, the atmosphere was uncontrollable and the demands were unclear.
I remember when, on June 15, 2009, I decided to participate in that famous march (the silent march attended by millions in Tehran to protest the results of the Presidential election). For the first time since I began my student activism, I felt anxiety and stress. Only a small part of this stress was due to any concern for the possible price I may pay for marching. The main problem was that I felt I was entering a game where I was lost- a game out of my control that I could not influence its course. Although during my student years we organized rallies or other actions which had high risks of being subjected to crackdowns, we knew exactly what we wanted and we could influence the course of the game. On June 25, 2009, this was not the case. I could neither convince myself to give up my independence, nor could I digest and accept the official results of the election. I was caught between these two very strong sentiments. For this same reason, I could not conform to the unipolar political climate of the society. I had enough difficulty handling the bipolar climate [created during the electoral campaign and the events that ensued]. This hostile, bipolar political climate has had a deep impact on my life and destiny.
I have no doubt that if I had been arrested prior to the election, I would have spent no more than two months in jail. However, this time, the consequence was horrendous. This time around, I was able to clearly observe the hostility and lack of sympathy in the words and actions of the interrogators, investigators, the judges, and all those I had to deal with. I was feeling desperate at the fact that I was not able to affect them in any way through my words, arguments, and reasoning.
Perhaps the biggest talent I possess in my social relationships is the ability to speak the language of people with differing interests and tastes. That is why, during my student years, I was the connecting point between people who had different, and at times opposing views. However, this time, and when my destiny was tied to such a talent, the situation was not suitable. I did not even have the right to talk, and this was really bothering me. It was under such circumstances that I discovered the value of the concept of “empathy”- the element that prevents us from forgetting our common grounds with each other, and stops our differences and distinctions from taking us to the point of hostility. I value civil society not because it allows the expression of differences, but because it allows discussion and dialogue based on common interests.
If we consider the moment a violent clash is conceived, we can see that an essential requirement for the clash is that parties reduce one another to the topic in question. We should prevent this from happening in society. We should not allow our social relationships and interactions reduce us to our political beliefs and differences. Allowing this to happen can lead to a potentially violent situation.
I know very well that the political rulers are responsible for [the above] situation more than anybody else. Nevertheless, we, too, sometimes do the exact same thing. For example, our censure of Alireza Eftekhari for greeting and kissing Ahmadinejad is no different in nature than how state radio and TV and cultural authorities treated Maestro Shajarian. Here is the issue: art should not become a political apparatus, and anybody doing this is wrong- whether it is us or the rulers.
Empathy was my approach with my peers, colleagues, and those who were critical of the current conditions in Iran. Now, I have reached the conclusion that my political opponents hold priority in receiving my empathy. Perhaps, one would argue that empathizing with political opponents results in conservatism and the forgetting of political demands, but I do not think so at all. On the contrary, if our opponents can even slightly trust in our goodwill and sincerity, we will be able to pursue our demands much easier. Even if it does not facilitate the process, empathy does not interfere with our endeavour to pursue our demands. What makes us forget our political demands and will put the flames of political practices out is forgetting our differences and distinctions, and trying to hypocritically conform to the ruling establishment’s desires. Empathy is not a denial of our differences. On the contrary, empathy and [recognizing our] differences provides a mutual credibility and adds value to one another, [which in turn[ facilitates reasonable democratic political practices.
PART 2.3. What is the fine line between the defenders and opponents of democracy in the current political situation of our society? Does the sheer fact that one is outside the power circle and has a critical view of the rulers make him/her a democrat? Is being critical of political power always a good thing?
During my years as a student, I used to pose the [above] questions, which date back to the [core] relationship between political activists and power. I had certain answers for these questions, and, although none completely satisfied me, I would not really doubt them. Outside the prison, I considered myself a student activist who was a member of activists in the public domain. I believed that we had to maintain our boundaries within the power so we would be able to exercise criticism.
Power, in m view, was a dangerous and unbridled force which could have been very perilous if it was not controlled through public criticism. As a result, we had to try to strengthen the public domain and fortify the foundation of the civil society in order to trim down the political power- which has a tendency to gain more weight and power so it could finally find its reasonable place within a democratic political structure.
It is evident that the requirement of such a project is to be outside the field of power. That is why I was always skeptical of the view of reformists who defined a democratization project within the power structure. Even when I decided to get involved in Mr. Karoubi’s Presidential campaign, I approached the activities with much intellectual scrupulosity. I have to admit, however, that many times I would cast a shadow of doubt over the effectiveness of the model preaching distance from the political circle (especially when I would face a reformist). Nevertheless, the criticisms of my view were not strong enough to cause a change of the model in my mind. In prison, however, this change finally happened. First, because, in prison, I realized that in this country, there are many problems and crises which deal directly with the life and livelihood of the people. These problems require immediate and urgent solutions, without any friction with politics.
For example, I had two experiences- one in Ahvaz Clinic and one in Karoun prison. The former was an instance of tragedy and the latter met the standards. In the latter, the human being was reduced to the brink of being an animal, and in the former, one felt like a citizen. Let us assume that the management [team] of Ahvaz Clinic prison resigned from their postings, citing the undemocratic nature of the political power in Iran, and became a critic of the human rights situation in Iranian prisons. Would this really be reasonable? I do not intend to lessen the work of dissidents or the human rights activists. I personally wrote a letter from Karoun prison and spread the information about the human rights violations in that prison- and I have a lot of respect for what I did. However, I have much more respect for the head of Ahvaz Clinic, who, despite all the problems, and the fact that nobody saw his humane and moral attempts, was trying to offer flawless management (truly, who can claim that a person who is outside the power circle and talks in favour of democracy is more democratic than someone who is inside the ruling establishment but is reasonable and observes tolerance and democratic norms and regulations?). Another point that underlined this question was my experience of living with political prisoners, the people who were symbols of being the outside power and having critical views of the power. I had this opportunity in prison to live under the same roof with current political movements in the country and those who are involved in them, and reach an understanding of and evaluate their personalities and traits, as well as their approach to public problems.
If I am going to be loyal to my experience, I have to say that, despite being very fond of the political and personal conduct of some of the reformist personalities, and although I found tremendous respect for some of the political and civil activists, and of course I found dear and well-thinking friends, I have developed a very critical view toward political dissidents and the opposition in society. I do not mean that they are bad people. On the contrary, the more time passes, the more I am convinced that there is no such a thing as ill-intention in human beings- and if we get to people closely enough and show empathy, we can understand their mentality and conduct. This, however, has nothing to do with being able to consider them democratic [in their conduct and their views]. When we look at people from their own frame of mind, we can see that they consider their own actions and beliefs justifiable and valid, even if they are dictators.
Here is the problem: democracy means succumbing to specific rules in public decision-makings. These rules have to be considered justified and reasonable by all people and not only by an individual, a group, or an ideology.
In my opinion, a democratic person should have three characteristics:
1- The ability to enter the public domain, and take responsibility to solve the common problems of [the civil society].
2- The ability to commit to critical discussion, and respect and yield to the collective wisdom in the public decision-making processes.
3- The ability to respect the privacy of individuals, and recognize and sympathize with their differences in this area.
If we take these three characteristics as criteria for being democratic, I have to admit that many political prisoners, myself included, lack some or all of these criteria. It is not my intention to hold a democratic-eligibility court for political prisoners. I do not have any personal problems with others, and my relationship with everyone is a good one (certainly other prisoners can confirm this point as well).
My intention is to reject the first claim and state that being outside the power circle and having a critical stance is proof of being a democrat- and being inside the power circle should not exclude someone from the democrats’ guild. The criteria for being a democrat are what I mentioned above and have nothing to do with whether an individual has authority or not. One might argue that what I stated are personal and moral issues. It is not a question of politics, because politics is the question of structures and not individuals. This criticism is valid as long as it obliges us to democratize our group relationships- whether inside or outside the power. We should not forget that the democratic spirit is created, more than anything, through practicing democracy. This criticism would not be logical if it is supposed to be a judgement and value judgement through which we try to divide people into two poles of inside and outside power, and thereby issue a generalized verdict for people based on which camp they belong to. As Albert Camus said, “Hell is nothing but classifying people into one category.”
Source : Persian2English