By Teo Cheng Wee
Foreign Correspondent
chengwee@sph.com.sg

 

IN IRAN
 
IN SOME ways the massive demonstrations currently going on in Iran have surprised me; in some ways they have not.

Iranians have spilled onto the streets since the elections.
PHOTO: AFP

The unsurprising part comes from my interactions with the locals. I was in Iran just a month ago, and many Iranians I met expressed dissatisfaction with current president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

The surprise is that almost everyone seemed to be resigned to the fact that he was going to win another term — and most said they weren't going to bother voting, much less take to the streets.
 
It was at the famous Khaju bridge in Esfahan — the cultural centre of Iran — that I met English teacher Ali Reza.
 
Like almost every Iranian I spoke to — and I've probably chatted with a good dozen people — Mr Reza, a slim man in his 30s, was the one who initiated the conversation.
 
And like everyone else, after the pleasantries, the conversation turned to, "So what do you think about Iran?"
 
This isn't small talk. Underscoring Iranians' curiosity is a palpable sense of insecurity about how they are being seen by the outside world.

I say this because our conversation never ends there, after that innocuous first question. They move on to ask your views of the country's political stand, whether you think they should have nuclear power and if you think they are treated fairly by the Western world.

Many of them are aware that sizeable parts of the world see them as nuclear power crazy, religious zealots who scream jihad everyday.

That couldn't be further from the truth. I spent two weeks in Iran and many of the people I met hold moderate views.

They are educated, well-spoken and their women, for all the negativity around how they must all wear headscarfs, are a lot more emancipated and independent than in other Islamic countries.

Most of them blame Mr Ahmadinejad's unnecessary posturing for showing the world a totally skewed image of their nation.

So they cap it off with a careful reminder that most Iranians are not extremists.
 
And almost all of them would add that they, and many other Iranians, do not share the views of their president — a conservative, religious man backed by the powerful ruling clerics of the country.
 
"When Ahmadinejad speaks, his views do not represent the people. Khatami — he represents the people," they often said.
 
Indeed, many still speak fondly of the last person to lead their country — the moderate reformist Mohammad Khatami, who was president from 1997 to 2005.

When I ask who they think will win the upcoming elections, they were certain — Mr Ahmadinejad would triumph.

"Elections here are dirty," said Mr Ali, who said that he wasn't planning to vote, because he knew the incumbent would win again.

But if everyone tells me they dislike their president, and they want to vote for the opposition, surely something should come out of these pent-up sentiments?

Flash forward one month and that's what the anti-Ahmadinejad protesters in the streets seem to be saying.

Reportedly stirred out of their slumber in the run-up to the polls, many of Iran's youths are questioning the landslide victory for the incumbent, triggering the biggest street protests the country has seen in decades.

I'm not saying Mr Ahmadinejad doesn't have supporters. His detractors know that as well, but they are upset at how — in their view — the contest was clearly rigged.

"Where is my vote?" is now their slogan.

Mr Ahmadinejad's base is in the rural areas, places I didn't venture to. It's there that his religious, man-of-the-people image holds great appeal.

Even in the urban areas, there is the odd dissenting voice, like that of Mr Reza's father, who we met together with him at the bridge.

Like his son, he was an English teacher and spoke in flawless English. He said he is perfectly happy with Mr Ahmadinejad.

"He is brave. He dares to speak. It's about time someone stood up to the Americans and George Bush," he told us.

It was a funny sight, seeing the two of them, father and son, bantering and exchanging their opposing views with us.

At points they would rebut each other. Other times, one would listen impatiently and wait for his chance to interject.

They threw up their hands and rolled their eyes, but all in the right spirit, and we had a good laugh for the half hour we spent together.

But the people who hold the same opposing viewpoints are now taking turns to demonstrate on the streets of Tehran. There have been clashes with police and violence, and no apparent end in sight.

Some protesters see Mr Ahmadinejad as a dictator.
PHOTO: REUTERS

 At last count I believe there were seven deaths from the protests. It's not funny anymore.