Iran

Rendezvous of the sun and the moon

Our eclipse correspondent witnesses ancient treasures and a modern miracle in Iran.

Aug. 8: This morning I awoke to the most terrifying sight I might ever have imagined in Iran: clouds. The total solar eclipse is but half a week away, and the sky is covered with a thin, but opaque, layer of fluff that may well obscure our viewing. This is painfully ironic, as the very reason Geographic Expeditions chose Iran for its eclipse trip was that NASA predicted a 98 percent chance of clear skies — as opposed to around 50 percent in Europe or 80-something percent in Turkey.

The one ray of hope is that we are currently in Shiraz, about 550 miles south of Tehran, not far from the Persian Gulf. Isfahan, where we will observe the eclipse, is halfway to Tehran, on the inland side of the Zagros Mountains. It’s much less likely to be cloudy. Still, the sight gave our small group a scare, and we spent breakfast debating, half-jokingly, whether we might consider catching a flight back to Bucharest.

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Shiraz is one of the most ancient cities in the world; there are reliable records of complex trading societies existing here for more than 25 centuries. The ruins of Persepolis, a sort of New Year’s resort palace that had been under construction for two centuries when it was sacked by Alexander the Great in 331 B.C., lie about 30 miles north; farther north still is Pasargadae, where the Persian empire was born three centuries earlier. There’s not a heck of a lot to admire in these ruins, and the once sylvan landscape is now parched and bare, but one definitely gets the impression of antiquity. It makes a place like New York or San Francisco — the whole of North America, practically — seem awkwardly adolescent.

Shiraz is one of those places where the idea of Persia — Persia as a state of mind — takes on real meaning. Take the name, for one thing: Shir Raz, “City of Mystery.” It was known for centuries as a place of nightingales, roses and poets. The Syrah grape originated here, and the local wine was the favorite of such poet/mystics as Sa’adi, Hafez and Omar Khayyam. These days, of course, the strongest thing you can get is non-alcoholic beer.

There are 16 universities and 59,000 students in Shiraz. More than half of them are women. And quite a few of them seem to be poets — or at least of poetic temperament. One certainly concludes as much after watching an endless stream of black-shrouded females prostrate themselves, weeping, upon the tomb of Hafez.

Both Hafez (born in 1324) and Sa’adi (1210) lived, died and were buried here in Shiraz. Between them, they more or less represent the pinnacles of Persian literature. Sa’adi was a practical sort of writer who, like Shakespeare, added a vast number of colloquial expressions to his culture. “I complained that I had no shoes,” wrote Sa’adi, “until I met a man who had no legs.” Or, “You have two ears and one mouth — so best to listen twice before speaking once.” In short, he was full of the sort of phrases parents use to torment their children.

Hafez, on the other hand, was a lyrical mystic. As a young man, he could recite the entire Quran by heart, hence the appellation “hafez,” which literally means “one who remembers.” One of the many wits in our tour group asked Ali, our imperturbable guide, if he knew the word for “one who forgets.”

“It’s actually very interesting,” Ali replied. “The word, also from Arabic, is ‘ensun’ — which also means ‘human being.’ For it is said that all humans once knew God and his teachings, but have forgotten them.”

There is a tradition, at the tomb of Hafez, that the visitor make a wish, open at random the collected poetry of Hafez and place his finger upon the page. Thus is one’s fortune revealed. Ever a sucker for such omens, I strode over to the little bookshop and located a copy of “Hafez in English.” I performed the rite without delay, with the following result:

“Twas morning, and the Lord of day/Had shed his light o’er Shiraz’ towers/Where bulbuls trill their love-lorn lay/To serenade the maiden flowers.”

The message, which reminded me powerfully of the Jabberwock, seemed to indicate no relief in my struggle against jet lag.

There are many lovely mosques and mausoleums in Shiraz. The most beautiful is undoubtedly the Bogh’e-ye Shah-e Cheragh (I only ever learned the Cheragh part). The history behind the personage honored in this shrine (i.e. the brother of the eighth grandson of the Prophet Mohammad) is maddeningly complicated, but he was called the King of the Lamp and died (or was poisoned like his brother; one never knows for sure in Persia) back in 835.

Let me interject that for an “ensun” such as myself, there is a tremendous amount of history to be overlooked if one is to enjoy Iran. The string of eras, dates, deeds, sackings, sieges, poisonings, seductions, dynasties, imams, Alis, eighth-grand-brothers and rulers named Xerxes is enough to make you throw your guidebook at the wall.

This frustration evaporates instantly, however, the instant one steps, shoeless, into that Cheragh place. It is unbelievable. My friend on this journey, Sam, told me he’d seen the place featured in a film called “Baraka,” but I cannot imagine a film could do this shrine justice. The entire interior is an intricate mosaic of tiny mirrors, covering every inch of the high walls and vaulted ceilings. Chandeliers hung in their midst; morning light poured in through the colored glass.

Sam and I entered during a mid-morning call to prayer and stood there with our mouths open. It was like falling into a kaleidoscope loaded with diamonds. I might have stayed there forever, but we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by several hundred Iranian schoolboys. Mirrors, they see every day, but two Americans — now that’s something. They massed around us, their notebooks open, begging for autographs.

Aug. 9: In the Shiraz bazaar — not the main bazaar but the “nomadic” bazaar, where women from the country shop for colorful dresses and lively applique “rusaris” (the code of dress is less strict for women who have to milk cows) — a cloth seller asked me about my impressions of Iran. “Is our country,” he asked, “as you expected from reading the newspapers in America?”

I told him that it was not. From everything I have experienced, Iran is one of the most hospitable countries on Earth. In the course of a single hour Sam and I were plied with free yoghurt, toured through the adobe alleyways of old Shiraz by a bright and ironic 16-year-old (the cloth seller’s son) and offered food samples off the plates of our fellow diners at a local lunch joint. Everywhere we roamed the locals asked after us and welcomed us sincerely. One never forgets where one is — portraits of the ayatollahs hang everywhere, frowning above the masses on their clouds of beard — but there is no air of religious fanaticism or prejudice. I’d be willing to bet that Salman Rushdie could wander the bazaars unmolested.

On the other hand, it’s not as if there is no reaction at all. At the mirrored mosque, a man approached and began haranguing me in Farsi. Ali, translating, explained that the individual wanted to know why America feels the ever-present need to meddle in the affairs of other nations; why it supports only those countries in which it has a vested commercial interest; why there is so much intolerance of the idea that a country like Iran or Cuba might pursue an alternate system of government.

These were pointed questions, and I did my best both to defuse them and to answer them honestly. I think we were able to agree, by the end of our conversation, that the winds of change may be blowing, at least as far as American-Iranian relations are concerned. Over 20,000 tourists are visiting Iran for the eclipse, and the numbers will stay large as the true season begins in the fall. In 2002, New York’s Asia Society is sponsoring an enormous show of art of Persia’s Safavid Period (1502-1722). Most of all, of course, there is the optimism generated by reformist President Khatami — and by the fact that he was elected with 70 percent of the popular vote.

There’s no question that Iran is in the midst of a tremendously exciting and delicate time. It seems the entire country is holding its breath, waiting to see what the ultimate outcome of July’s student demonstrations will be. In my first dispatch, I wrote briefly of the contradiction inherent in Iranian social life; of the fascination, attraction and loathing Iranians feel toward America and the West. The word I used was ambivalence, but Iranians are more severe with themselves. “We’re a nation of hypocrites,” one fairly conservative individual told me. “We know this. But as the political tide shifts, you will see that more and more people come around to Khatami’s side.”

People are fed up with the inflexibility of religious law, he suggested, and would love to see a change. When I asked why President Khatami had not taken a harder line — why he so quickly capitulated to the Supreme Leader by condemning the protests — my friend laughed. “It’s because he is smart. Change must occur very slowly, very carefully,” he said. Things in Iran transpire at their own pace, and cannot be pushed. “If there is one wrong move, the entire process of reform will crumble.”

Iran could have played it safe, and kept its doors more carefully guarded during the eclipse. The very fact that the government allowed so many thousands of Japanese and European tourists to enter — as well as our small American group — is a sign that the fist of suspicion may be opening. As I said to the man who cornered me near the mosque: Anything could happen. I would not be at all surprised if Khatami turns out to be the Gorbachev (or at least the Kruschev) of Iran. If so, the next U.S. president may well establish fresh diplomatic ties with the ancient and ingenious civilization of Persia.

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It is considerably later. I’m sitting at the traditional outdoor teahouse that adjoins Hafez’s tomb, sipping smoke from a hubble-bubble, a traditional Persian water pipe. The glances of the locals, curious but not disapproving, indicate that, despite occasional choking, I am not disgracing myself.

It is moments like these, really, that represent the soul of travel: times when one breaks away from the tourist circuit and finds an alcove of peace and contemplation. Time slows down, and the essence of an unfamiliar culture surrounds you without planning or artifice. These are the times when one can imagine spending weeks, or months, in a city like Shiraz — meeting the living poets, and cultivating a real understanding of the people who call this their home.

The smoke bubbles pleasantly as I draw it through the pipe; there is a lovely cherry flavor to the tobacco (or maybe the water itself is perfumed). Nearby tables are filled with men and women reading newspapers, doing crosswords (in Farsi, a daunting feat) and chatting over tea and cake. It is a measure of Iran’s sophistication that my laptop draws nary a glance.

In a few hours I will board an Iran Air jet — a tired Soviet passenger plane, worn out from years of use by Aeroflot — and journey north to Isfahan, and the rendezvous of the sun and moon.

ISFAHAN, Iran — Aug. 10: During my travels in Iran I’ve been reading a book called “Samarkand,” n historical novel by Lebanese journalist Amin Maalouf. Set in 11th century Persia, the book recounts the times of the great poet-philosopher Omar Khayyam, whose most tumultuous years began and ended in Isfahan.

Aside from drinking about half the wine available in the city, Omar of Nishipur — who, despite his near heretical views, enjoyed royal patronage — realized his dream of building an astronomical observatory; he was accomplished in the arts of astronomy as well as astrology. One of his goals was to measure accurately the length of the solar year. Not only did he succeed, but the system he developed came into use during his own lifetime — on March 21, 1079. “This officially carried the name of the Sultan,” writes Maalouf, “but in the street, and even in certain documents, it was enough to mention ‘such and such a year in the era of Omar Khayyam.’” A modification of his calendar remains in use today.

Khayyam’s legendary observatory no longer stands; it was destroyed by the invading Mongols, four centuries before Isfahan became the baseline of Persian civilization. It is astonishing to walk along the shaded streets, through the 4-kilometer-long bazaar, in the shadow of the magnificent 17th century Mosque of Emam, and realize that none of this (except for parts of the bazaar) existed during Khayyam’s time.

(Speaking of the bazaar: During my morning stroll through the millennia-old labyrinth, I ran into a 16-year-old boy who cornered me as I bargained for the local version of a Dairy Queen cone. Like many young Iranians, he was keen to practice his English. His opening gambit was potentially awkward — “Excuse me, please, but why does America think it is king of the whole world?” — but we soon settled into a discussion about the charms of Isfahan. The definitive statement came after I suggested that Isfahan is more beautiful than Shiraz. The boy frowned. “Isfahan,” he declared, “is more beautiful than Chicago.”)

One thing the Persians of Omar’s time had in common with present-day Iranians is a fascination with the heavens. Nine centuries after Khayyam performed his calculations for the Seljuk court, the city of Isfahan has gone eclipse-crazy. Eclipse banners line Chahar Bagh, the main boulevard; posters showing the fabulous blue dome of Emam Mosque surrounded by a solar corona hang in every window. At 10 this morning, with the event only 30 hours away, I wandered into a “madrase” — an Islamic university, comparable to a yeshiva — and was immediately surrounded by turbaned clerics who called to me excitedly, “Kusoof! Kusoof!”

It is an expression I’ve heard a great deal these days. The literal meaning, as clearly as I can tell, is “the union of the sun with the moon.”

It’s out there somewhere, our moon, moving inexorably toward its Wednesday rendezvous. Totality will occur at 4:40 p.m. This will be the first total solar eclipse to pass over Persia since the 1950s, long before the birth of more than two-thirds of the population. Eclipses are cyclical; they occur in the same places every 35 years or so (the next one to darken the U.S. will occur in 2017). But the fact that this is the last such event of the millennium has given this one special meaning, and tourists from around the world have converged on this ancient caravansary town to witness the spectacle. During the past week we’ve met groups from Japan, Italy, Spain, France and England, but we seem to be the only Americans. I did, however, hear a strange rumor — I have no reason to believe it is untrue — that this afternoon’s flight from Tehran to Isfahan will carry a group that includes moon walker Neil Armstrong.

The dire predictions of comet watchers, asteroid phobics and dusty infidels like Nostradamus faze the locals not at all. The imams I spoke with have no qualms about the eclipse. They will, however, recite special prayers, “like when there is an earthquake.” So one doesn’t quite know what to expect.

I must admit, though, that the high-profile chorus of doomsayers back in the USA has been a bit tiresome. It is true that Nostradamus, who has often been off in his predictions by only a letter or two, predicted that a “King of Terror” will arrive from the skies just about teatime tomorrow. But the slightest error in interpretation could give his words a very different meaning. Both Yeats and Rilke, after all, equated terror with transcendent beauty. As my astrologer friend Rob Breszny prefers to think, this millennial eclipse may deliver a breakthrough in human consciousness. Reason enough, I reckon, to be smack in its path.

The weather, incidentally, is perfect. Not a cloud in the sky. The only question is exactly where to observe the eclipse from. Sanjay, the leader of our Geographic Expeditions group, seems partial to driving out of town, and setting up camp on the mesa of a nearby mountain. He has a point; it would be fantastic to see the shadow of the moon race across the landscape as a 100-second sunset occurs in every direction at once. For my money, though, it could be equally spectacular to watch the phenomenon darken the crowded plaza in front of the city’s fantastic 17th century mosque.

In any case, the level of excitement is growing by the hour. Odd, how the sun and moon know nothing of this; to the players themselves, this is no more than the impassive dance of celestial mechanics.

Aug. 11: The longest period of totality in Iran would be 1 minute, 58 seconds, but the figure reduces dramatically as one moves even slightly away from the center line. Isfahan is a good 15 miles from that line, and totality here would run about 1 minute, 38 seconds. After paying a fortune and lugging their cameras and telescopes halfway around the world, many of the Geographic clients were understandably eager to drive toward the barren southwest, wringing as many seconds out of totality as possible.

I stayed behind in Isfahan, setting up camp in Imam Khomeini Square. Built in 1612, the vast plaza — alive with fountains and lined by craft shops — served as the center of Safavid dynasty Persia. As I stood by the fountain in front of the cream-colored dome of the “Women’s Mosque,” the high minarets of the Masjed-e-Imam gateway loomed to my left. High behind them, the impassive sun burned through the afternoon haze. A few fluffy clouds flirted nearby, providing an unneeded element of suspense.

At about 3:15 — the moment of “first contact” between the sun and moon — there was a murmur from the 200 or 300 people assembled in the shade of the mosque. Though crowded, Khomeini Square was not the crush I’d expected. I wondered if everyone really had fled, driving across the plains in pursuit of longer-lasting shadows.

The situation soon changed. By 4:15 — 15 minutes before totality — the plaza was filled with thousands of locals, the vast majority of them too young to recall the last eclipse here 45 years ago. Iranian television and radio had been vigilant — there had been warnings and instructions every 10 minutes — and no one was seen without a shadow box or mass-produced sun viewer. Some people had built ingenious contraptions for viewing the thinning sun. The simplest and most effective were small mirrors, which threw images of the crescent across the walls of the mosques and palaces. The crescent, let me remind you, is the emblem of Islam, and I doubt the symbolism was lost on this crowd.

(Iran TV’s instructions, I learned, may have been a little too alarmist; many people actually hid inside their homes, convinced that even a glimpse of the phenomenon would blind them for life. The taxi driver who brought me to the cyber-cafe where I am writing this, for example, spent the eclipse in the shower.)

The atmosphere was charged and giddy. It was probably the closest Iran will come to Woodstock: T-shirts, overpriced soft drinks and all. There were a few pointed differences: Devout Muslims spread woven mats on the grass and prostrated themselves, reciting the appropriate prayers; a small, spontaneous and very short-lived anti-American demonstration erupted near the Ali Ghapu Palace.

The Women’s Mosque is famous for changing color through the day. During the last five minutes of sun the dome hurried through a full day’s work — glowing first peach, then honey, then amber. As the world darkened, a terrified thrill swept through the plaza. Thirty seconds before totality a collective cry began to rise from the crowd, mounting to a fevered climax. I think I yelled myself as the last sliver of light winked out. The ground rippled with a weird diffraction pattern, and the sun disappeared behind the moon.

It was otherworldly, magnificent beyond compare. Venus burned near the zenith, and the cooperative clouds took on a wine-dark glow. The automatic lights crowning the minarets flickered on. A mane-like corona twisted wildly from the sun, while bright red prominences danced around its edges. I tried to view the effect with binoculars, but it was impossible; this was my first eclipse, and my hands were shaking uncontrollably.

There was a sudden, timeless silence. Then, from every direction, came the familiar Persian expression of delight, reverence and awe: “Ma’sha’Allah!” What wonders God has willed!

Never, I reflected, were words more truly spoken.

Ninety-eight seconds is not a long time. Before we knew it, Bailey’s Beads shimmered around the occulted disk, and a wink of sunlight appeared at the moon’s southeastern edge. Venus blinked out; in an instant, the plaza was flooded with light. I got the impression that people couldn’t decide whether to cheer or moan. Our collective moment had ended; there was nothing to hold us from business as usual.

Yet we had shared something extraordinary, something that can hardly be described and could barely be believed. I filtered out of the plaza with thousands of Iranian men, women and children, shaking hands and slapping backs, feeling the sort of solidarity usually brought on by moon landings, Super Bowls or earthquakes.

Somehow, the news from Iran will never read quite the same to me again.

Jeff Greenwalds latest book, "Future Perfect: How 'Star Trek' Conquered Planet Earth," was recently released in paperback by Penguin.

Energy wars heat up

From Africa to South America, conflicts over waning resources are becoming more tense -- and dangerous

A member of the military stands guard near pump stations before a ceremony in which oil operations at Heglig oilfield will resume in Heglig, Sudan, May 2, 2012. (Credit: Reuters/Mohamed Nureldin Abdallah)
This piece originally appeared on TomDispatch.

Conflict and intrigue over valuable energy supplies have been features of the international landscape for a long time.  Major wars over oil have been fought every decade or so since World War I, and smaller engagements have erupted every few years; a flare-up or two in 2012, then, would be part of the normal scheme of things.  Instead, what we are now seeing is a whole cluster of oil-related clashes stretching across the globe, involving a dozen or so countries, with more popping up all the time.  Consider these flash-points as signals that we are entering an era of intensified conflict over energy.

From the Atlantic to the Pacific, Argentina to the Philippines, here are the six areas of conflict — all tied to energy supplies — that have made news in just the first few months of 2012:

* A brewing war between Sudan and South Sudan: On April 10th, forces from the newly independent state of South Sudan occupied the oil center of Heglig, a town granted to Sudan as part of a peace settlement that allowed the southerners to secede in 2011.  The northerners, based in Khartoum, then mobilized their own forces and drove the South Sudanese out of Heglig.  Fighting has since erupted all along the contested border between the two countries, accompanied by air strikes on towns in South Sudan.  Although the fighting has not yet reached the level of a full-scale war, international efforts to negotiate a cease-fire and a peaceful resolution to the dispute have yet to meet with success.

This conflict is being fueled by many factors, including economic disparities between the two Sudans and an abiding animosity between the southerners (who are mostly black Africans and Christians or animists) and the northerners (mostly Arabs and Muslims).  But oil — and the revenues produced by oil — remains at the heart of the matter.  When Sudan was divided in 2011, the most prolific oil fields wound up in the south, while the only pipeline capable of transporting the south’s oil to international markets (and thus generating revenue) remained in the hands of the northerners.  They have been demanding exceptionally high “transit fees” — $32-$36 per barrel compared to the common rate of $1 per barrel — for the privilege of bringing the South’s oil to market.  When the southerners refused to accept such rates, the northerners confiscated money they had already collected from the south’s oil exports, its only significant source of funds.  In response, the southerners stopped producing oil altogether and, it appears, launched their military action against the north.  The situation remains explosive.

* Naval clash in the South China Sea: On April 7th, a Philippine naval warship, the 378-foot Gregorio del Pilar, arrived at Scarborough Shoal, a small island in the South China Sea, and detained eight Chinese fishing boats anchored there, accusing them of illegal fishing activities in Filipino sovereign waters.  China promptly sent two naval vessels of its own to the area, claiming that the Gregorio del Pilar was harassing Chinese ships in Chinese, not Filipino waters.  The fishing boats were eventually allowed to depart without further incident and tensions have eased somewhat.  However, neither side has displayed any inclination to surrender its claim to the island, and both sides continue to deploy warships in the contested area.

As in Sudan, multiple factors are driving this clash, but energy is the dominant motive.  The South China Sea is thought to harbor large deposits of oil and natural gas, and all the countries that encircle it, including China and the Philippines, want to exploit these reserves.  Manila claims a 200-nautical mile “exclusive economic zone” stretching into the South China Sea from its western shores, an area it calls the West Philippine Sea; Filipino companies say they have found large natural gas reserves in this area and have announced plans to begin exploiting them.  Claiming the many small islands that dot the South China Sea (including Scarborough Shoal) as its own, Beijing has asserted sovereignty over the entire region, including the waters claimed by Manila; it, too, has announced plans to drill in the area.  Despite years of talks, no solution has yet been found to the dispute and further clashes are likely.

* Egypt cuts off the natural gas flow to Israel: On April 22nd, the Egyptian General Petroleum Corporation and Egyptian Natural Gas Holding Company informed Israeli energy officials that they were “terminating the gas and purchase agreement” under which Egypt had been supplying gas to Israel.  This followed months of demonstrations in Cairo by the youthful protestors who succeeded in deposing autocrat Hosni Mubarak and are now seeking a more independent Egyptian foreign policy — one less beholden to the United States and Israel.  It also followed scores of attacks on the pipelines carrying the gas across the Negev Desert to Israel, which the Egyptian military has seemed powerless to prevent.

Ostensibly, the decision was taken in response to a dispute over Israeli payments for Egyptian gas, but all parties involved have interpreted it as part of a drive by Egypt’s new government to demonstrate greater distance from the ousted Mubarak regime and his (U.S.-encouraged) policy of cooperation with Israel.  The Egyptian-Israeli gas link was one of the most significant outcomes of the 1979 peace treaty between the two countries, and its annulment clearly signals a period of greater discord; it may also cause energy shortages in Israel, especially during peak summer demand periods.  On a larger scale, the cutoff suggests a new inclination to use energy (or its denial) as a form of political warfare and coercion.

* Argentina seizes YPF: On April 16th, Argentina’s president, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner, announced that her government would seize a majority stake in YPF, the nation’s largest oil company.  Under President Kirchner’s plans, which she detailed on national television, the government would take a 51% controlling stake in YPF, which is now majority-owned by Spain’s largest corporation, the energy firm Repsol YPF.  The seizure of its Argentinean subsidiary is seen in Madrid (and other European capitals) as a major threat that must now be combated.  Spain’s foreign minister, José Manuel García Margallo, said that Kirchner’s move “broke the climate of cordiality and friendship that presided over relations between Spain and Argentina.”  Several days later, in what is reported to be only the first of several retaliatory steps, Spain announced that it would stop importing biofuels from Argentina, its principal supplier — a trade worth nearly $1 billion a year to the Argentineans.
As in the other conflicts, this clash is driven by many urges, including a powerful strain of nationalism stretching back to the Peronist era, along with Kirchner’s apparent desire to boost her standing in the polls.  Just as important, however, is Argentina’s urge to derive greater economic and political benefit from its energy reserves, which include the world’s third-largest deposits of shale gas.  While long-term rival Brazil is gaining immense power and prestige from the development of its offshore “pre-salt” petroleum reserves, Argentina has seen its energy production languish.  Repsol may not be to blame for this, but many Argentineans evidently believe that, with YPF under government control, it will now be possible to accelerate development of the country’s energy endowment, possibly in collaboration with a more aggressive foreign partner like BP or ExxonMobil.

* Argentina re-ignites the Falklands crisis: At an April 15th-16th Summit of the Americas in Cartagena, Colombia — the one at which U.S. Secret Service agents were caught fraternizing with prostitutes — Argentina sought fresh hemispheric condemnation of Britain’s continued occupation of the Falkland Islands (called Las Malvinas by the Argentineans).  It won strong support from every country present save (predictably) Canada and the United States.  Argentina, which says the islands are part of its sovereign territory, has been raising this issue ever since it lost a war over the Falklands in 1982, but has recently stepped up its campaign on several fronts — denouncing London in numerous international venues and preventing British cruise ships that visit the Falklands from docking in Argentinean harbors.  The British have responded by beefing up their military forces in the region and warning the Argentineans to avoid any rash moves.

When Argentina and the U.K. fought their war over the Falklands, little was at stake save national pride, the stature of the country’s respective leaders (Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher vs. an unpopular military junta), and a few sparsely populated islands.  Since then, the stakes have risen immeasurably as a result of recent seismic surveys of the waters surrounding the islands that indicated the existence of massive deposits of oil and natural gas.  Several UK-based energy firms, including Desire Petroleum and Rockhopper Exploration, have begun off-shore drilling in the area and have reported promising discoveries.  Desperate to duplicate Brazil’s success in the development of offshore oil and gas, Argentina claims the discoveries lie in its sovereign territory and that the drilling there is illegal; the British, of course, insist that it’s their territory.  No one knows how this simmering potential crisis will unfold, but a replay of the 1982 war — this time over energy — is hardly out of the question.

* U.S. forces mobilize for war with Iran: Throughout the winter and early spring, it appeared that an armed clash of some sort pitting Iran against Israel and/or the United States was almost inevitable.  Neither side seemed prepared to back down on key demands, especially on Iran’s nuclear program, and any talk of a compromise solution was deemed unrealistic.  Today, however, the risk of war has diminished somewhat — at least through this election year in the U.S. — as talks have finally gotten under way between the major powers and Iran, and as both have adopted (slightly) more accommodating stances.  In addition, U.S. officials have been tamping down war talk and figures in the Israeli military and intelligence communities have spoken out against rash military actions.  However, the Iranians continue to enrich uranium, and leaders on all sides say they are fully prepared to employ force if the peace talks fail.

For the Iranians, this means blocking the Strait of Hormuz, the narrow channel through which one-third of the world’s tradable oil passes every day.  The U.S., for its part, has insisted that it will keep the Strait open and, if necessary, eliminate Iranian nuclear capabilities.  Whether to intimidate Iran, prepare for the real thing, or possibly both, the U.S. has been building up its military capabilities in the Persian Gulf area, deploying two aircraft carrier battle groups in the neighborhood along with an assortment of air and amphibious-assault capabilities.

One can debate the extent to which Washington’s long-running feud with Iran is driven by oil, but there is no question that the current crisis bears heavily on global oil supply prospects, both through Iran’s threats to close the Strait of Hormuz in retaliation for forthcoming sanctions on Iranian oil exports, and the likelihood that any air strikes on Iranian nuclear facilities will lead to the same thing.  Either way, the U.S. military would undoubtedly assume the lead role in destroying Iranian military capabilities and restoring oil traffic through the Strait of Hormuz. This is the energy-driven crisis that just won’t go away.

How Energy Drives the World

All of these disputes have one thing in common: the conviction of ruling elites around the world that the possession of energy assets — especially oil and gas deposits — is essential to prop up national wealth, power, and prestige.

This is hardly a new phenomenon.  Early in the last century, Winston Churchill was perhaps the first prominent leader to appreciate the strategic importance of oil.  As First Lord of the Admiralty, he converted British warships from coal to oil and then persuaded the cabinet to nationalize the Anglo-Persian Oil Company, the forerunner of British Petroleum (now BP).  The pursuit of energy supplies for both industry and war-fighting played a major role in the diplomacy of the period between the World Wars, as well as in the strategic planning of the Axis powers during World War II.  It also explains America’s long-term drive to remain the dominant power in the Persian Gulf that culminated in the first Gulf War of 1990-91 and its inevitable sequel, the 2003 invasion of Iraq.

The years since World War II have seen a variety of changes in the energy industry, including a shift in many areas from private to state ownership of oil and natural gas reserves.  By and large, however, the industry has been able to deliver ever-increasing quantities of fuel to satisfy the ever-growing needs of a globalizing economy and an expanding, rapidly urbanizing world population.  So long as supplies were abundant and prices remained relatively affordable, energy consumers around the world, including most governments, were largely content with the existing system of collaboration among private and state-owned energy leviathans.

But that energy equation is changing ominously as the challenge of fueling the planet grows more difficult.  Many of the giant oil and gas fields that quenched the world’s energy thirst in years past are being depleted at a rapid pace.  The new fields being brought on line to take their place are, on average, smaller and harder to exploit.  Many of the most promising new sources of energy — like Brazil’s “pre-salt” petroleum reserves deep beneath the Atlantic Ocean, Canadian tar sands, and American shale gas — require the utilization of sophisticated and costly technologies.  Though global energy supplies are continuing to grow, they are doing so at a slower pace than in the past and are continually falling short of demand.  All this adds to the upward pressure on prices, causing anxiety among countries lacking adequate domestic reserves (and joy among those with an abundance).

The world has long been bifurcated between energy-surplus and energy-deficit states, with the former deriving enormous political and economic advantages from their privileged condition and the latter struggling mightily to escape their subordinate position.  Now, that bifurcation is looking more like a chasm.  In such a global environment, friction and conflict over oil and gas reserves — leading to energy conflicts of all sorts — is only likely to increase.

Looking, again, at April’s six energy disputes, one can see clear evidence of these underlying forces in every case.  South Sudan is desperate to sell its oil in order to acquire the income needed to kick-start its economy; Sudan, on the other hand, resents the loss of oil revenues it controlled when the nation was still united, and appears no less determined to keep as much of the South’s oil money as it can for itself.  China and the Philippines both want the right to develop oil and gas reserves in the South China Sea, and even if the deposits around Scarborough Shoal prove meager, China is unwilling to back down in any localized dispute that might undermine its claim to sovereignty over the entire region.

Egypt, although not a major energy producer, clearly seeks to employ its oil and gas supplies for maximum political and economic advantage — an approach sure to be copied by other small and mid-sized suppliers.  Israel, heavily dependent on imports for its energy, must now turn elsewhere for vital supplies or accelerate the development of disputed, newly discovered offshore gas fields, a move that could provoke fresh conflict with Lebanon, which says they lie in its own territorial waters.  And Argentina, jealous of Brazil’s growing clout, appears determined to extract greater advantage from its own energy resources, even if this means inflaming tensions with Spain and Great Britain.

And these are just some of the countries involved in significant disputes over energy.  Any clash with Iran — whatever the motivation — is bound to jeopardize the petroleum supply of every oil-importing country, sparking a major international crisis with unforeseeable consequences.  China’s determination to control its offshore hydrocarbon reserves has pushed it into conflict with other countries with offshore claims in the South China Sea, and into a similar dispute with Japan in the East China Sea.  Energy-related disputes of this sort can also be found in the Caspian Sea and in globally warming, increasingly ice-free Arctic regions.

The seeds of energy conflicts and war sprouting in so many places simultaneously suggest that we are entering a new period in which key state actors will be more inclined to employ force — or the threat of force — to gain control over valuable deposits of oil and natural gas.  In other words, we’re now on a planet heading into energy overdrive.

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NYPD must spy on all Muslims to protect us from Iranian photographers

New York City's own constitutionally iffy intelligence agency justifies itself with fear-mongering

Ray Kelly (Credit: Reuters/Brendan McDermid)

The NYPD is less a “police department” than a secretive and unaccountable international intelligence-gathering organization with a large minority-frisking division and the firepower of a mid-sized army. Lately they have been facing a bit of criticism for their style of intelligence-gathering, which seems to be done with more gusto than concern for civil liberties or… accuracy. Sometimes the NYPD’s muscular-but-stupid approach to spying gets them in trouble with the FBI. And when the organization that fights terror by recruiting shady weirdos to try to trick random Muslims into saying “jihad” into tape recorders says your practices are counterproductive and out of line, they are probably pretty counterproductive and out of line.

But the NYPD’s “covertly follow every single Muslim in the tri-state area” approach to counter-terrorism has its defenders. Like Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who believes Americans Muslims have the right to worship wherever they see fit so long as they don’t pay any attention to the unmarked vans parked across the street.

And the department argues that it is allowed to carry out surveillance wherever it chooses, because there’s no law against just going around looking at things and taking some pictures, right? No, of course not, unless you look sort of Middle Eastern.

The NYPD earlier this week announced that they had totally caught some people who were almost definitely probably Iranian spies. These spies were caught red-handed spying all over the place!

Authorities have interviewed at least 13 people since 2005 with ties to Iran’s government who were seen taking pictures of New York City landmarks, a senior New York Police Department official said Wednesday.

The NYPD’s Mitchell Silber told Congress that Hezbollah and Iran definitely want to blow up New York, and the proof is three incidents of people “associated with the Iranian government” getting caught photographing things, in New York. (I am not much of a terrorist, but if you want pictures of New York City landmarks in order to figure out how best to blow them up why not try Flickr? There are hundreds of thousands of photos of every landmark in the city already online!)

While other so-called intelligence experts say ” there are no known or specific threats indicating Iranian plans to attack inside the U.S.,” Long Island-based Islamaphobe Republican Congressman Peter King and documented supporter of terrorism wants us all to be on high alert, because Hezbollah is everywhere:

Opening the hearing, King said, “We have a duty to prepare for the worst,” warning there may be hundreds of Hezbollah operatives in the United States, including 84 Iranian diplomats at the United Nations and in Washington who, “it must be presumed, are intelligence officers.”

Stop telling the NYPD not to spy on all the Muslims, everywhere! If they don’t keep tabs on all of them, the Iranians will get us!

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Alex Pareene

Alex Pareene writes about politics for Salon and is the author of "The Rude Guide to Mitt." Email him at apareene@salon.com and follow him on Twitter @pareene

Former Bush official warns against Iran attack

National Security Council advisor and Iraq hawk Stephen Hadley counsels diplomacy, not war

Stephen Hadley (Credit: AP/Alex Brandon)

Another voice against war in Iran is heard and from perhaps an unexpected source. Former Bush administration National Security Advisor Stephen J. Hadley warned against an attack on the Islamic Republic yesterday. “If something needs to be done, it is not military action,” said Hadley. “There’s a wide spectrum between sheer diplomacy and military action.”

Hadley was an early and enthusiastic functionary in the war against Iraq. During the George H. W. Bush administration, he was a Pentagon aide to uber-hawk Paul Wolfowitz, and later served as a senior foreign policy advisor to George W. Bush’s presidential campaign. Hadley was instrumental in allowing the “Yellowcake Forgery” fabrication into Bush’s 2003 State of the Union address, a mistake for which he reportedly offered to resign. Taking over as national security advisor in 2005 from Condoleezza Rice, he was known for being on the relatively moderate spectrum of the Bush administration (well, at least when compared to Cheney and Rumsfeld). Upon leaving office, he formed a consulting shop with Rice, and he recently co-wrote a piece calling for negotiations with the Taliban.

Hadley was speaking at a panel at the University of Maryland, alongside former Carter administration National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski. Brzezinski went further, saying that even if Iran did obtain nuclear weapons, it could be contained. According to Brzezinski, who was the top policymaker during the time of the Iran revolution and hostage crisis in 1979 and 1980, a nuclear Iran is something the world can live with. “Deterrence needs to be given a chance to work,” he said. “The Iranians are devious, but they are not suicidal.”

The panel was moderated by Shibley Telhami, a veteran pollster and scholar on the Middle East. Telhami released a poll finding that only one in four Americans favor Israel conducting a military strike against Iran’s nuclear program. Close to 70 percent favor the U.S. and other major powers continuing to pursue negotiations with Iran, a position that is supported by majorities of Republicans (58 percent), Democrats (79 percent) and Independents (67 percent). The poll, conducted by the Program on International Policy Attitudes, found only 14 percent of respondents said the U.S. should encourage Israel to strike Iran’s program. Steven Kull, director of PIPA, said, “One of the reasons Americans are so cool toward the idea of Israel attacking Iran’s nuclear program is that most believe that it is not likely to produce much benefit.”

Brzezinski agreed heartily. “We have no idea how such a war would end,” he said. “Iran has military capabilities, it could retaliate by destabilizing Iraq.”

Hadley was much more worried about the consequences of a nuclear Iran. “Iran is different than North Korea, which is more inward-directed,” he said. “I worry that they would be more ambitious in support of terrorism and that other countries” in the region would also want nuclear weapons. Still, Hadley believes that the Obama administration has been pursuing the right approach with Iran, focusing on sanctions instead of opting for military action. Even if covert action or taking other approaches to delaying Iran’s nuclear weapons program only worked for two or three years, that would be worth it, he said.

“The Iranian public is watching what is going on in Egypt, Tunisia and Libya,” he said. Delaying a military strike may offer a chance for something to change in Iran, either through diplomacy or through the leadership’s reconsideration of its foreign-affairs approach. He believes Iran’s recent agreement to nuclear talks came as a result of increasing pressure on the regime.

Brzezinski is worried about a situation whereby Iran is forced to choose between a humiliating retreat and crippling sanctions. Such an ultimatum offers no chance for the regime to take a face-saving retreat, similar to how the Soviet Union was granted concessions in return for removing its missiles from Cuba during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. “The Israelis have been predicting since 1994 every year that Iran will have nuclear weapons the next year,” he said. While the United States has a rightful moral obligation toward Israel, Brzezinski said, offering it protection under America’s nuclear umbrella and resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict are the best way to integrate it permanently into the international community.

In contrast to some top Republicans, Hadley said that America should engage with Islamist and Muslim political parties that have gained power in Egypt and elsewhere. “Just because they have the word ‘Islamic’ or ‘Muslim’ in the name — we should be pushing them to pursue pluralism,” he said.

Hadley’s comments are a marker of how top Bush administration official have been chastened by the Iraq disaster. With the important exception of Cheney and Rumsfeld, all seem to admit that the war did not go as planned — to the extent that it was planned). One of the few good things to come out of the Iraq war is that it has cautioned American leaders against starting another.

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Jordan Michael Smith writes about U.S. foreign policy for Salon. He has written for the New York Times, Boston Globe and Washington Post.

What Iran’s election results mean

The growing divide between the president and the Supreme Leader could be good news for the West

In front of a portrait of late Iranian leader Ayatollah Khomeini, former President Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani casts his ballot for the parliamentary elections at a polling station in Tehran, Iran, Friday, March 2, 2012 (Credit: AP Photo/ISNA, Ruhollah Vahdati)
This article originally appeared on GlobalPost.

BOSTON — It was no coincidence last week when Iran’s Supreme Religious leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, praised a 64 percent turnout for parliamentary elections at home as well as President Barack Obama’s words that dampened talk of war against Iran. The elections gave him a commanding authority at home and a freer hand to deal with foreign threats.

Global Post

In a rhetorical style that was less hostile than usual, Ayatollah Khamenei hailed Obama’s comments as “good words” and called them “an exit from delusion.” Meanwhile, his nuclear negotiator, Ali Asghar Soltanieh, resumed talks in Vienna over Iran’s controversial nuclear program with five western powers including China for the first time in more than a year. He called the talks “a new chapter.”

Both seemed to be efforts to divert threats at a time when hawks in Israel are beating the drums of war and calling for a military strike as soon as spring to stop Iran from making a nuclear bomb. Sanctions are crippling Iran’s economy and the value of its currency, the rial, has plunged since fall to half against the U.S. dollar.  

It is too early to take Ayatollah Khamenei’s comments as an overture to the West. “I think we have to wait and see if anything will come out of the nuclear talks,” said Mehdi Khalaji, a senior fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy. “So far he just seemed glad that war is not imminent.”

The victory of Ayatollah Khamenei’s supporters in the March 2 elections has, at least symbolically, solidified his authority. According to official figures, his supporters won 75 percent of the seats. The fate of the remaining 65 seats in the 290-member assembly will be decided in run-off elections.

The fact that supporters of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad won only 2 seats, compared to 70 percent of the seats in 2008, is being interpreted as nothing but a clear victory for Ayatollah Khamenei.

Ayatollah Khamenei, who has the final word on state matters, has made Ahmadinejad a target after he challenged his authority. The president tried to reopen relations with the United States, despite opposition from the supreme leader, believing that rapprochement with the West would be popular with Iranian electorate. He appointed his supporters to key ministries that had been historically controlled by the supreme leader. Ayatollah Khamenei lashed back late last year and publically embarrassed the president by reappointing the Intelligence Minister whom Ahmadinejad had fired.

The elections were not only about sidelining Ahmadinejad, but also restoring the prestige and an image of strength to the supreme leader. In the days before the election, Ayatollah Khamenei was concerned only with turn out. The elections were the first since the 2009 presidential race that triggered massive anti-regime protests. Khamenei had gone to extreme lengths to support Ahmadinejad against pro-reform forces that demanded more political and social openness.

Before the vote this month, Ayatollah Khamenei urged people to vote in large numbers to “smack the face” of the enemies, a reference to Israel and the United States. His supporters equated low turnout with an invitation for a military strike, because a low turnout would project an image of weakness at a time when the country had come under increasing threats.

The opposition movement that drew hundreds of thousands into the streets boycotted the election and urged its supporters to stay away from the polls. Their candidates were banned from running and their leaders have been under house arrest for the past year.

No independent reporting confirmed the 64 percent turnout. The regime boasted that it was an “epic victory,” compared to 57 percent that voted in parliamentary votes in 2008. Foreign reporters were not allowed to roam freely and were bused to specific polling stations where they were greeted with enthusiastic voters.

Apathy among the large middle-class generated almost no citizen journalism except for calls from Iran to a call-in program on BBC Persian Service that was beamed into Iran on satellite. Callers said the polling places in Tehran and large cities were deserted.

The contrasting numbers that the government released in the early hours of the count failed to convince people it was different from the 2009 election that was widely viewed as fraudulent. One government official put the turnout at 34 percent while the Interior Minister, Mostafa Najar, said it was 64 percent. Eventually, the Interior Ministry, which was counting the votes, deleted the turnout figure all together from its website. The semi-official news agency, Mehr, even reported the total number of votes as being higher than the number of eligible voters in a small city of Ilam.

Although there were no immediate claims of irregularities, it was Ahmadinejad’s younger sister, Parvin Ahmadinejad, who vowed this time that she would make formal complaints of fraud in her hometown of Garmsar where she lost to a rival candidate.

As for Ahmadinejad, he will become the first president next week in the Islamic regime to be summoned before parliament to answer MP’s questions over alleged mismanagement. The move has been seen as an effort to curb his power. In another blow, the Guardian Council, a watchdog body close to Ayatollah Khamenei, blocked the president from setting up a committee responsible for supervising the implementation of the constitution. The committee would have given Ahmadinejad more leverage to ensure that, as president, he was given all the power the constitution granted him.

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Nazila Fathi reported out of Iran for nearly two decades, most recently for The New York Times. In 2009, following the elections, she was forced to leave the country because of government threats against her. She was a Nieman Fellow at Harvard in 2010 and is currently a fellow at the Shorenstein Center on Press, Politics and Public Policy at the Harvard Kennedy School.

A Hollywood party, with a nervous look to Iran

Behind the scenes at the Academy Awards with the star of "A Separation"

Payman Maadi (right) in "A Separation"

The 405, Los Angeles’ leading freeway, is under construction. Lanes suddenly close and then merge haphazardly into the one nuzzled next to it. Center dividers inch closer and closer into carpool lanes. And drivers – which in a city of waitresses, actresses and waitresses longing to be actresses, might be the most infamous population of all — drive erratically as a result. The drivers are erratic because the road has become erratic; the road has become erratic because the city is erratic.

But for Payman Maadi, the star of “A Separation,” it feels a little like home. Los Angeles, he says, is in many ways just like Tehran. He’s here for the Academy Awards, which are quintessentially Los Angeles. But Tehran, of course, is nothing like the Academy Awards; the transitive property does not apply here.

So when I see Maadi dead asleep in the passenger seat just before the Oscars, I see the exhausting wear of Los Angeles — the city takes an unsuspected toll on an Iranian who runs a luxury watch shop in the country’s capital, and now finds himself in the throes of the movie industry’s biggest night.

Before falling into slumber, he recounted the night before, throwing out such names as Meryl Streep, who cornered Maadi and the film’s writer/director Asghar Farhadi to rave about “A Separation,” the foreign-language powerhouse film that was everyone’s Oscar pool gimme.

“She could recite every line,” he says of Streep. “She was crying during the [Independent Spirit Awards] montage, I swear.” Since arriving in Hollywood, Maadi has been cornered by almost every bold-faced name in the business, people who have come to view his film as a unique window into the realities of Iranian life; a reality that, usually funneled through the 24-hour news cycle, rarely comes to light. This week, like every other, the GOP primary race is filled with talk of war; headlines wonder whether Israel will attack Iran’s nuclear weapons program before the U.S. election.

But that’s not the kind of talk Maadi hears.

“[Streep] pulled me aside, and just told me how moved she was by the vision of realistic Iranian life. ‘It’s just one house. One house and you just see who is in there and what they are like, who they are.’ She was so moved. That’s when you realize you’ve done something special.”

Minutes later, my car mate, Katrin, one of Maadi’s childhood friends, is standing with him outside the Beverly Wilshire Four Seasons Hotel when a car drives by, honking in some abstract show of support. He waves in thanks, and Katrin follows his lead, out of Hollywood-influenced instinct.

“I bet they thought I was Leila Hatami,” she says, referring to the female lead opposite Maadi in “A Separation,” and one of Iran’s leading actresses.

“No, they knew you weren’t her.”

“How do you know?”

“You weren’t wearing a chador.”

- – - – - -

For all its success, its hype, its all-but-guaranteed-Oscar chatter, “A Separation” is plagued with a curious bout of political silence. During the press circuit, neither the actors, nor the film’s writer/director, ever made mention of the narrative housing any political subtext — aware as they may have been that any film that reaches American shores from Iran is sure to be embalmed in politics long after it has left theaters. If a country of present-day notoriety produces any work of art, it becomes a victim of context — that might finally answer why North Korea has yet to produce a steady influx of romantic comedies.

Of course, the debate regarding “A Separation’s” politics has fallen into two distinct camps: that either the film is about something more intimate like family, and forgoes politics entirely; or the film is in fact rife with the country’s complex political landscape, but Farhadi and Maadi are simply not allowed to admit it.

The former requires the subjectively trained eye of a cinephile; the latter is a just matter of common sense. The politics of the film itself becomes gradually irrelevant as one begins to realize the politics of everything that’s come after it.

- – - – - -

“You walk into a restaurant, and you see Leonardo DiCaprio sitting beside you, and [Meryl Streep] sitting in front of you, and you give yourself 20 seconds of awe, and then it’s done,” says Maadi. “You don’t really look at them anymore. What makes these moments so incredible is that you go in thinking you’re there to see them, but they’re really there to see you.”

They’ve heard it all: Steven Spielberg said that he believed “A Separation” to be the best film of the year by a wide margin. David Fincher spent over half an hour discussing his various takes on the film’s complex technical scope. Brad Pitt took Maadi aside during a press conference to describe his intense reaction to the film’s opening scene, which caused his wife (maybe you’ve heard of her) to pause the film and return to it days later.

Angelina Jolie later cornered Farhadi at the awards, telling him that she longed to star in his next film. He thanked her, but politely made mention that, unfortunately, the female lead speaks only French.

Jolie told him she would learn the language by the first day of shooting.

But even after months on the circuit, it’s still hard for Maadi to shake the shock of having Hollywood’s most notable faces and filmmakers sing their praises. Woody Allen didn’t let his infamous shtick of never attending the Academy Awards stop him from reaching out to Farhadi and Maadi, asking for even 30 minutes of their time once they arrived in New York. Allen would eventually go on to claim the Oscar for best original screenplay from Farhadi, who, to everyone’s surprise, nabbed the fifth spot in the category — a rarity for non-English language films.

Allen’s consistent absence from the awards season racket begins to make sense to Maadi, as exhaustion once again sets in. We’re now on our way to a party hosted by Sony at the Andaz Hotel, and Farhadi has just texted saying he won’t be attending, citing sickness and overexhaustion. Maadi, who had planned on staying for an hour at most, and was even toying with not going altogether, is now obligated to stand in as the film’s representative; he’s just become the only member of the production in attendance.

The dinner is set to begin at 7:30, and by 7:15, after a bout with a passive aggressively calm GPS voice, we’ve finally pulled over on Culver Boulevard to call Maadi’s assistant to ask where exactly we’re going. Tension in the car has gotten significantly higher — the sort of anxiety that comes from worrying about arriving late to an event that one doesn’t even want to arrive at. Maadi’s wife, Faranak, is on the phone. Payman asks repeatedly for her to make sure the address gets texted as a precaution, but she hangs up before answering. “Faranak, why don’t you listen to anybody,” he snaps. “I asked you repeatedly to get the address texted. Do a job right, we may forget the address now.”

Suddenly we pass the Laemmle Royal theater on Santa Monica Boulevard and the tension in the car eases. The marquee features Payman and Leila’s face.

Academy Award Nominee for Best Foreign Film.

Maadi’s phone rings for roughly the fifth time in the last hour. He presses silent. The car keeps moving.

- – - – - -

By 11 p.m., we’ve arrived at some bar in some micro-sector of West Hollywood, with Maadi’s entire Persian posse in toe. The plan — as seems to be the theme — was to arrive earlier, but due to Iranian social requirements (meaning that the minute a restaurant is mentioned, suddenly cousins one never knew existed chime in about the best ambience for a late-night bar), it’s later than anticipated. The line outside the club and accompanying restaurant is longer than most of the skirts that the women waiting outside seem to be wearing, but Maadi leads us to the front, where, almost without a word, we are ushered in immediately. Once inside, I lose sight of him, but find him later surrounded by a gaggle of men and women, all of whom are giving him handshakes and high fives. Some, it is clear, he has seen before or known for longer; others seem to be treating him like an old acquaintance, even though he has yet to learn their names. Most call this the belly of the beast.

Aside from the already established A-list, no newcomer is probably reeling from face-recognition quite like Maadi. Considering that the Iranian population of L.A. ranges upward of 800,000, it has officially become the second largest such population in the world (second only to Iran itself). Because of this, “A Separation” finds itself as the reason all of L.A. is salivating: its two biggest industries — Hollywood and ‘Tehrangeles’ itself — both have equal stake in the film’s success. This makes Maadi perhaps the most recognizable person in the city to have never appeared on an American magazine cover.

“There is a different expectation from [Sony Pictures] for just what a foreign film has to do, has to look like to the people,” Maadi says. “The press can’t catch you behaving typical Hollywood. You have to uphold a certain distinction.”

This also has to do with the risk of losing it all. Should he be seen cavorting with a scantily clad woman, or with a drink in his hand, or with a face made red from too much liquor and a tie made loose by very much the same, the consequences would be dire.

Just three years ago, Jafar Panahi, one of the most influential filmmakers to come out of the Iranian new wave, was arrested while mourning at the grave of Neda Agha-Soltan, the woman whose death during the 2009 Iranian election protests drew international attention after a bystander filmed and released footage on the Internet of her laying bloodied on the streets. Over the course of the next two years, Panahi would be in and out of prison, culminating in a six-year jail sentence, and a 20-year ban on making any films, writing any screenplays, talking to Iranian media or leaving the country.

Events like this make the notion of a political film meaningless. Partly because any film to be made and released under such constraints inherently becomes a political act already, but also because Maadi and Farhadi could have made a real-time depiction of Ahmadinejad stealing the election and killing Neda himself, and come interviews would still have no choice but to claim that political readings are up for interpretation.

Maybe that’s the real belly of the beast.

- – - – - -

We move the table full of food against the back wall to make room for the friends and family that keep pouring into Maadi and Faranak’s L.A. apartment. He and Farhadi are currently taking their seats in the former Kodak Theatre. Plus ones don’t arrive for the Oscars unless you’re the kind of star Ryan Seacrest wants to ask about which designer made your dress. Faranak is unable to attend, leaving her to mingle with us commoners, holding our breaths to witness what was by then considered inevitable.

“This moment is so much bigger than him, he has no idea,” a friend of his sitting next to me says.

“I think he realizes the sort of excitement Iran is feeling right now. I don’t think he’s been going through this unaware of what a win could mean.”

“No, no, I mean what happens after this is so much bigger than him. I mean what happens to everyone else. What starts coming from Iran.”

“Do you mean ‘what starts coming out of Iran or coming out about Iran’?”

Before she can answer me, Sandra Bullock is onstage, and begins to read the nominees for best foreign film. Faranak’s hands go to her head, simultaneously covering her ears and alleviating pressure from her head. The room falls silent, and with the sort of focus everyone in the room had on the television, somehow Bullock’s every word came through more clear, more crisp, simply because the absence of movement acted as a speaker.

Moments later, Iran had won its first Academy Award. Farhadi was onstage, while Maadi and the rest of the film’s cast sat in support. They had decided hours earlier that the best way to remedy what many saw as a weak speech at the Golden Globes would be to pre-write the speech and allow Farhadi to deliver it himself.

I proudly offer this award to the people of my country, a people who respect all cultures and civilizations and despise hostility and resentment.

The champagne is flowing; the tears more so. Phones explode, with many calls to Iran announcing the news. Faranak dabs her eyes with a mascara-covered tissue as tears keep streaming. Everyone is hugging her, and she finally catches her breath.

“Do you think they will get in trouble for the speech?”

- – - – - -

When the sun rises on the other side of the globe, and Iran hears the news, banners featuring Farhadi holding the golden statue are erected all over Tehran.

“People in Iran follow the Oscars a lot more than you think they do,” Farhadi told reporters backstage. “I know for a fact that right now, as the event is happening, it’s in the middle of the night, in the middle of the morning, and people are not sleeping. I know they are following.”

By the end of the day, two things will have happened. Farhadi’s speech will have been altered on the Web to include a mention of the nuclear stalemate between Iran and other world powers, reading:

“I proudly offer this award to the people of my country who, despite all the tensions and hostility of recent months between Iran and the West over Iran’s nuclear program, respect all cultures and civilizations.”

And Javad Shamaghdari, the head of Iran’s Cinematic Agency, will release an official statement regarding the win, viewing it as monumental not because it is Iran’s first Oscar, but because of its win over the Israeli drama, “Footnote.”

“This is the beginning of the collapse of the influence of the Zionist lobby over American society … this is an unusual reaction to the Zionist lobby, but it marks the beginning of the collapse of Israeli influence.”

When I ask Faranak where Maadi is the next morning, she tells me he’s asleep, and that she’s going to disconnect the phones so that he doesn’t wake up.

“What happens next is so much bigger than him.”

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Rod Bastanmehr is a freelance writer, born in San Francisco, with a focus on film, culture and politics. His writing has appeared in Nerve, Thought Catalog, Not Coming to a Theatre Near You and more.

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