When clocks struck nine across Tehran on Tuesday, the night skies filled with sound in celebration of the 47th year of the Iranian revolution.
We listened from our hotel balcony as chants of “God is greatest” rose from rooftops and roared from windows. Fireworks flared in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colours.
But this year, in this annual explosion of light and sound, there was a discordant note.
We heard “death to the dictator” shouted too from somewhere in the darkness of the city, from the safety of spaces indoors.
It was a dramatic echo of the extraordinary wave of protests, which swept some streets and squares of Tehran, and towns and cities across this country last month. They were met with unprecedented lethal force and a huge loss of life unseen in previous uprisings.
It’s our first trip to Iran since the protests, as the authorities slowly lift their near total internet blackout, described as one of the longest digital shutdowns in history, and gradually allow a small number of international media to return.
The mood in the capital is in stark contrast to our visit last June, at the end of the 12-day war with Israel, which also drew in America’s attacks on Iran’s nuclear sites.
That deadly conflagration had left many residents, including those who fled Tehran for safer cities, shaken by the blistering attacks and cemented their attachment to their country.
Now, this sprawling metropolis set against the stunning, snowy Mount Damavand is decked out in flags and bunting to mark what’s known as the “ten days of dawn”.
In 1979, this period ushered in an historic revolution that ousted the shah, totally transformed Iran, and created a radical “axis of resistance” among its allies across the region which has long been condemned and confronted by its enemies.
This year, the days are overshadowed by discontent and defiance over everything from the soaring prices of everyday goods hitting people’s pockets, to calls which sounded on streets last month for an end to clerical rule.
These internal pressures, compounded by US President Donald Trump’s warning of more military strikes if diplomacy fails, now pose an unparalleled challenge to Iran’s ageing theocracy.
On Wednesday, on the last day of these anniversary events, the streets of the capital and other major cities were flooded with the government’s most loyal foot soldiers – a political reply to the protests.
There was a festival air on this public holiday as families marched and meandered in a warm winter’s sun.
Children and adults waved Iranian flags and photographs of Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, chanting their signature slogans of “death to America” and “death to Israel”.
“To me and to all Iranians, the revolution means a revival of life; new life was blown into our society and country, and I believe even to the Islamic world, and the whole world,” exclaimed a beaming young woman who, like many women participating in this rally, was clothed in a long black veil.
When I asked her about the protests, she replied: “There were people protesting who were dissatisfied with the economic situation, and their protest was legitimate.” But, she added: “It is clear that those who rioted, and brought about chaos, had intentions which originated from beyond our borders.”
Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian, speaking from a raised stage in Tehran’s iconic Azadi (Freedom) Square before a massive crowd seething with emotion, reflected that view too.
He blamed “malicious propaganda” perpetuated by Iran’s enemies – usually code words for America and Israel – for inflaming the unrest he referred to as riots.
But this senior official regarded as a reformist, who has tried to strike a conciliatory note since the start of the protests, also apologised for the government’s shortcomings. “We are ready to listen to the voice of the people,” he emphasised.
He said they were making “every possible effort” to fix the problems – for him, that’s a reference to the currency collapse and cost of living crisis that sparked a shopkeepers’ strike on 28 December which spiralled into something much bigger.
In Iran’s clerical system, real authority lies higher up with the 86-year-old supreme leader. He and the head of the judiciary have vowed there will be no leniency for people branded as terrorists and troublemakers.
The day before, on our first day in Tehran, we stopped by Enghelab (Revolution) Square on a drizzly grey day to try to get a sense of the mood in this city.
Soaring murals, brightly painted, of smiling crowds dominate building facades around this busy roundabout.
But a dark pall seemed to hang over this space.
Some Iranians, hurrying about their day, demurred from speaking. One woman told us it was too “dangerous” to talk to a journalist at this time.
But many more, when asked a very open question, “what’s the main worry on your mind?”, paused only briefly before pouring out their anger and pain.
Emotion was still raw, palpable, after all that’s happened here.
Raha immediately burst into tears. “It has been a month now since I haven’t eaten or slept properly. Look at me, I am young, only 32, why should I be so ravished and depressed?” she cried.
“I swear to God they keep saying that it was rioters. But people were not armed. What was their sin?” she demanded.
Bespectacled, 20-year old Dori, who like some women no longer wears the mandatory headscarf, reflected how “last month was terrible”.
“After the internet connections were restored, we saw a lot of horrible videos and photos of people under attack; they made us cry,” she explained.
For 62-year-old Akhtar in a rose-pink headscarf, who spoke with fierce emphasis, there were two worries. “So many young people were killed,” she lamented first. Then she expressed the agony we hear from so many Iranians over the growing hardship in their day-to-day lives.
“The price of cooking oil has quadrupled; meat and chicken are the same. And unemployment is so high,” she exclaimed.
Many of the people we spoke to, when asked about their message to the leaders now, replied like 20-year-old Amir. “I think they should hear our voices.”
His 19-year-old friend Amir, standing beside him, was visibly upset. “I just want our basic needs and freedoms.”
But even relieving the economic distress, magnified by water and electricity shortages, is entangled in decades of crippling international sanctions, suspicion over Iran’s nuclear ambitions, as well as chronic corruption and mismanagement.
The Islamic Republic of Iran now stands at a crossroads, confronting its most consequential tests since its own uprising almost half a century ago.
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Source: www.myjoyonline.com
