Iran: Dispelling the myths

Iran: Dispelling the myths

Every day in Iran, another one of my pre-conceived ideas about the country is shot down. Obviously my research is not scientific. I’ve spoken only to people who choose to approach me, and those people probably seek out a western view assuming it’s sympathetic to their own. I know I’m speaking to a liberal elite, but the Iranian middle class is big and growing. I came to Iran with an open mind and even I am shocked at what I’ve found. I want to dispel some myths. I know I can’t change international diplomacy or claim to have more insight than the whole western media. But I know this: I am one western woman who believed something about Iran and I have met one Iranian man whose experience tells me otherwise. Here is what I’ve learnt.

Myth 1: Iranians are a deeply religious people

Sure, there are some religious people in Iran – like there are in any country – and it’s probably safe to say those blokes running the country are fairly devout (the Ayatollah and Guardian Council at least. Ahmadinejad’s pious credentials are unclear). But the majority of Iranians consider themselves secular. It’s a bit like saying Britain is a Christian country and knowing that about 10 per cent of people attend church services. The statistics are roughly the same here.

Myth 2: You don’t have to worry about your hair, because it’s covered

In Iran, hair is big. I mean this both literally and figuratively. Women care about their hair. They show as much of it off in public as it is possible to show while strictly speaking wearing a headscarf. Many people dye their hair and the fringe is all-important, if only because it means more hair is therefore on show. Beehives are big. In Iran, the backcomb serves a decorative and structural role. In order to show all this hair and keep the headscarf secure, one must pile one’s hair as high as possible on top of the head, make it into as big a bun as possible so that the veil can rest of the back of the head without falling off. Not many people have enough hair to create such a structure, so to compensate every woman must own giant scrunchie-type hair pieces. This bizarre device comes in many forms. It can be a clip that you use to fix a French roll, or it can be a more traditional scrunchie that secures a bun. What is certain is that it will be piles of satin, or some other synthetic material, with feathers and/or other decorative agents poking out the sides and/or top. It serves to make the veil stay on and to create a rather fetching profile as the veil drapes over the gigantic structure at the back of the head. For days I thought Iranian women must have such lovely thick hair to create such a look. I wanted to see all of it (need I say more?).

Myth 3: You have to be careful when talking about politics

Everybody wants to talk about politics and politics are openly discussed. In one taxi, our guide was pointing out the dormitories of Shiraz’s universities – of which they have many, including the best medical schools in the Middle East – and the taxi driver said, ‘Make sure you tell them they were built in the Shah’s time. We don’t want them thinking they were built by Muslims.’ Men talk to us everywhere we go and immediately they want to tell us they hate the government and the hejab. In our first three days, two different men had approached me to tell me they hated the hejab and to apologise for the government of Iran. Women make their statements about the headscarf every day in the way they wear it.

Myth 4: Covering up prevents vanity

Iran doesn’t have the highest rate of plastic surgery in the world per capita for nothing. When all you can see is the face, the face becomes an obsession. In 24 hours I’d seen five different people on the streets wearing the post-rhinoplasty bandages. Everybody has a nose job, so there’s no need to hide it. It used to be a status symbol, but now that it’s so common, it’s just a fact of life. Both men and women are into it and in fact, I came across a male mannequin in Tehran wearing nose job bandages. One Iranian man told me his aunt was on her fifth nose. You change it with the fashion, you see. Lips are big too. (You now know what I mean when I say, ‘big’.)

Myth 5: All Iranians wear the chador (or cover up fully in long black cloaks)

The rule is basically that you have to cover your neck, shoulders, to your elbow on your arms and below the ankles on the legs. You can wear sandals and flip flops. The result is that most young women will wear a manteau – which is basically a shirt dress – over jeans. It has to cover your bum. While the idea is to hide the shape of your figure, in reality this is being pushed to the limits and skinny jeans have a whole other meaning in Iran. Sure, many Iranian women wear a chador. And as you go from the rich to the poor parts of cities and the country, you see more women in more conservative clothes. But on the streets of Tehran and Shiraz, women are as fashion-conscious as women anywhere. As my Turkish friend said, ‘This is not free’, and it isn’t, but I think it’s fair to say that young, modern Iranian woman would be just as shocked, offended and outraged at the burka as French parliamentarians.

Myth 6: The call to prayer wakes everyone up

It was my eighth day when I was first awoken by the call to prayer. Not all mosques in Iran broadcast it over loudspeakers, and in fact, few do. In Shia Islam, there are only three prayers a day, as opposed to the five calls to prayer you hear in Turkey or other countries with a Sunni majority. Apparently Shiites are more relaxed about prayer and while nobody is upset at people running 10 minutes late to the mosque for prayer, it would not be seen in some neighbouring Arab countries. Our guide told us this as we sat in a mosque’s courtyard in Yazd (a fairly religious city by Iranian standards) watching the service and a Mullah yelled out and gestured for us to get closer for a better view.

Myth 7: You can’t look men in the eye

Men yell out ‘hello’ to us wherever we go and it is perfectly acceptable to smile and yell hello back. In every city we’ve been to, men have approached us (mainly middle-aged men, so far, unfortunately) to talk to us. It is more than acceptable for us to look at them and talk back. I even bat a few eyelids to my cute young taxi driver in Shiraz. In the gardens – and the Iranians do good garden – you see young couples holding hands and sitting quietly in shady areas quite close to each other. I haven’t witnessed any kissing or overt PDAs, but men and women do talk, and flirt even, in public. An Australian guy I’m with was approached by an Iranian girl who gave him her phone number. This all took place in public and nobody called the Revolutionary Police. In Eghlid and Yazd, where people are more religious and fewer speak English, it’s true that we haven’t got into the exact same conversations with men, but we’ve still been greeted, welcomed and stared at warmly. In fact, one response I got in Eghlid from a 19-year-old boy was in contrast to all the others so far. The conversation went something like this:

HIM: ‘Do you like this [the veil]?’
ME: ‘No. Do you?’
HIM: ‘Yes.’
ME: ‘Why?’
HIM: ‘Because Khomeini said it.’
ME: ‘Why don’t you wear it then?’
HIM: ‘Sorry, I don’t speak English.’
Everywhere, all sorts.

Myth 8: Iranians want a revolution

The Iranian people have had two revolutions in the past 100 years. They don’t necessarily want another one. They have first-hand memories of how unpredictable revolutions can be. How destabilising. How they can be hijacked. How you never can tell what you might get in the end. On the streets of the cities, we’ve met so many people who tell us how embarrassing Ahmadinejad is (‘Don’t worry,’ I say, ‘We had John Howard for 13 years.’). Not many middle class people like him, or voted for him, and we saw this outrage in the protests of 2009. But the fact is, he’s done a lot for the poor provincial people and he’s very popular as a result outside the cities, no matter how much sophisticated urbanites hate the thought. And getting rid of him is only a start, people say. They still only get to vote for candidates approved by the Guardian Council. The Council is made up of six mullahs and six lawyers appointed by parliament. They get to approve people who will run for election and so the choice is small, and some feel unfair and unrepresentative. This is the organisation that must be reformed to bring about the freedom middle class Iranians crave. But, as I said, many people believe that this reform can happen without a revolution. Instead, they want to trust elected parliamentarians to pass reformist legislation so that gradual and lasting change happens over time in a stable manner.

Myth 9: Iranians hate Jews

There has been a vibrant Jewish minority in Tehran and Shiraz since the Persians themselves settled. There still is today and they have a representative in parliament. Jews are allowed to practice their faith all over Iran and they are able to travel freely between Israel and Iran – something other Iranians are not able to do. (In fact, Christians and other religions are also allowed to practice their faiths all over Iran on the condition that they do not promote or proselytise.) Most Iranians don’t understand the ant-Israeli rhetoric (or anti-US rhetoric for that matter). As one Iranian put it to me when I asked, ‘We don’t see Israel or America as our enemy. We are more worried about Pakistan.’ I’m not denying Ahmadinejad has a problem with Israel, and we’ve heard him say enough things to know how he feels without me repeating them here. I’m not saying there aren’t Iranians who might agree with him. I am saying that many Iranians are more threatened by the expansion intentions of their Arab neighbours than the state of Israel. I am also saying that there are Jewish people with national representation in parliament living happy lives in Iran without fear of persecution.

Myth 10: Iran is a dry country

Well, let’s be clear about this: there is a massive distinction between public and private life in Iran. People drink alcohol inside their homes every day without fear of prosecution. Shiraz grapes are still grown in Shiraz for people to make their fine home brew. People (and I met at least one) buy dozens of kilos of raisins to make their own brand of vodka. Dealing in alcohol is a severe offense, as is drinking it in public, but drinking at home is not illegal.