This post is a modified, revised, and expanded text of a contribution to a six-part Jadaliyya roundtable on targeted killing, edited by Noura Erakat, and posted on the Jadaliyya website, March 5, 2012; the roundtable responds to an important article by Lisa Hajjar referred to in the opening paragraph.
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There is an emergent Israeli/American controversy on the lawfulness of targeted killing. Although the policy has not yet attained the status of being a national debate, there are signs that it may be about to happen, especially in light of the Attorney General, Eric Holder’s Northwestern Law School speech on March 5, 2012 outlining the Obama’s administration’s controversial approach to targeted killing in some detail. Lisa Hajjar convincingly narrates how the “legalization” of targeted killing has evolved over the course of the last twenty years. [Hajjar, “Lawfare and Targeted Killing
evelopments in the Israeli and U.S. Contexts,” Jadaliyya, Jan. 15, 2012] She there calls attention to the analogy to the torture debate that, in many ways, defined the political and moral identity of the Bush presidency in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, and even caused moral and legal fissures to develop that divided the American people unto this day.
Hajjar shows that it was Israel that first crossed the threshold of legality in response to a wave of suicide bombings that traumatized Israeli society in the 1990s. In other words, targeted killing became a tactic of choice for both the Israel and the United States as part of the preventive logic of counter-terrorism, that is, placing a premium on eliminating threats before harm is inflicted rather than the reactive logic of striking back and retaliating. The upsurge in targeted killing seems responsive to the belief that neither defensive strategies nor deterrence, nor massive retaliation are appropriate or effective against a terrorist adversary, especially if the violence might accompanied by the readiness of a perpetrator to die while carrying out a mission.
By so doing, it gives up on the struggle to restrict the discretion of states to claim self-defense as an open ended justification for the use of force. This is a major setback for war prevention efforts resting on international law that can be traced back at least to the Kellogg-Briand Pact of 1928 that outlawed recourse to war, and was later reinforced and elaborated at the Nuremberg trials and in the core provisions, Articles 2(4) and 51, of the UN Charter. In other words, from an international law perspective the stakes are higher than they might seem in the context of authorizing target killing by invoking the alleged security necessities of the ‘war’ occasioned by the 9/11 attacks. Holder framed his defense of the tactics, including targeted killing, relied upon by the Obama presidency in the terms initially laid down by George W. Bush in his September 20, 2001 speech to a joint session of Congress: “We are a nation at war.” How different might the last decade have been, and likely for the better, if Bush had opted back then in that feverish atmosphere for a policy of enhanced law enforcement, not a global war on terror. And one can only wonder, and question the failure of Obama to take advantage of the changed climate in 2009 when he moved into the White House, or after the execution of Osama Bin Laden, to indicate that the war was at an end, and from now on the guidelines of law enforcement would prevail. Earlier terrorist organizations operating in Europe poses much greater threats to the security of societies than is posed by the remnants of Al Qaeda, and never insisted on the governmental prerogatives of warmaking.
In considering the victims of targeted killing we are dealing with one aspect of the plight of rightless Palestinians and alleged American enemies scattered around the world, with an inevitable skepticism about the degree to which this unaccountable authority to kill individuals is exercised in a responsible manner as claimed by its apologists, most recently by Eric Holder. Looking at the Israel record with respect to Palestinian prisons or the American treatment of its detainees at Abu Ghraib or Gunatánamo Bay there is every reason to doubt whether the claims of great care exercised in the approval of targets are to be trusted at all. Certainly, those selected for torture were often persons without information and sometimes without any real involvement with terrorist activities. In important respects, target killing is worse than torture due both to its finality which deprives the target of any opportunity to tell his or her story, and because of the collateral damage inflicted on those unlucky innocents who happen to be in the killing zone—or are mistakenly targeted.
Lawfare: Hajjar draws an instructive distinction between those who regard reliance on law and courts as a positive dimension of political democracy and those who view recourse to law as a means to delegitimize states and their security policies. I would develop this distinction by viewing civil society’s recourse to litigation and legal arguments as “constructive lawfare,” while viewing the denigration of law’s role by governments, specifically, Israel and the US, as nihilistic or regressive, and an effort to free themselves from all forms of legal accountability that they cannot fully control. Such efforts to deplore recourse to law and international standards of legitimacy aim to insulate state security policy from procedures and discipline of accountability, and deprive society of an absolutely necessary check on the abuse of state power undertaken in secrecy and insulated from even post-facto investigation. Constructive lawfare is one of the few means available in a democratic society to redress the new imbalance between state and society in the post-9/11 world, and in relation to the acute vulnerability experienced daily by a people living under occupation for decades.
Instead of seeking to invalidate ‘lawfare,’ governments that took seriously their own insistence on the importance of living according to cherished values would move to allow citizens to have greater access to courts to raise questions of international and constitutional law flowing from governmental security policies.
More specifically, it would be a meaningful gesture in this direction if the U.S. Government were to foreswear procedural copouts from accountability by renouncing the political questions doctrine, executive privilege, and sovereign immunity. Holder quotes Obama several times to the effect that adhering to the rule of law is the right thing to do, but also because it is more effective in upholding security interests. As Obama expressed it as the National Archives in 2009: “[w]e uphold our most cherished values not only because doing so is right, but because it strengthens our country and it keeps it safe. Time and again, our values have been our best national security asset.” If that were genuinely believed, then a different approach would have been long ago adopted both in relation to targeted killing, and more generally, to security: less secrecy, more accountability, and more readiness to recognize and address the legitimate grievances of foreign adversaries.
Reciprocity: David Cole makes the following cogent observation on his New York Review of Books blog (19 September 2011): “In international law, where reciprocity governs, what is lawful for the goose is lawful for the gander.” He goes further in questioning the approach taken to targeted killing by the Obama administration as being unmindful of setting a precedent that is a prelude to future regret: if we “continue to justify such practices in only the vaguest of terms, we should expect other countries to take them up—and almost certainly in ways we will not find to our liking.” In effect, he is adopting the view that Obama embraces, which is the convenient convergence of virtue and practical benefit.
It is true that international law in many substantive domains, from diplomatic exchange to commerce, substitutes reciprocity for enforcement, and so what is claimed for oneself is granted to others. However, in the domains of national security, the use of armed force, and criminal accountability for gross crime, international law operates more characteristically according to an imperial logic, or at best a hegemonic logic, in which equals are not treated equally. It is obvious that losers in wars with the West and leaders of some Global South countries are being held more and more accountable for crimes against humanity, especially since the establishment of the International Criminal Court a decade ago. But it is equally obvious that leaders of Western countries, including Israel, enjoy de facto impunity despite their evident involvement in crimes against humanity.
The one exception, which irritates geopolitical actors clinging to impunity, is the haphazard efforts to detain and prosecute state officials and agents under the controversial rubric of universal jurisdiction. Hajjar’s article gives a helpful summary of the pull and push pressures associated with attempts to rely on universal jurisdiction in relation to Israeli military and political leaders whose travel carries them to countries in Western Europe that have laws on their books permitting the use of domestic courts to pursue accountability for crimes of state committed beyond normal territorial sovereignty. What is most notable is that these attempts to extend the reach of international criminal law beyond what is possible at a global level are furiously resisted by the United States and Israel, claiming the potential disruption of diplomatic interaction. True, the imposition of law can be disruptive, but the refusal to apply law is also disruptive in a different way by discrediting fundamental claims about animating values.
Whether the targeted killing precedents being set by the US and Israel will come to haunt these countries is highly uncertain, and they will do what they can to persuade public opinion that such claims made by hostile states are undisguised terrorism. Israel can assassinate Iranian nuclear scientists with impunity, while an alleged Iranian threat to kill a Saudi Arabian diplomat, which never materialized, is treated as a heinous instance of international terrorism is never questioned in the mainstream media. In other words, the language of law will be used in contradictory ways to deal with our acts and theirs’.
The US used atomic bombs against Japanese cities at the end of World War II, escaped any kind of accountability as war crimes prosecutions were limited to the wrongdoing of the Germans and Japanese, the losers in the war, which led critics of such double standards to deride the outcomes at Nuremberg and Tokyo as “victors’ justice.” In the current era, practices of targeted killing are certain to spread. Fifty countries have drones, and some deploy them for surveillance and reconnaissance missions. For example, Turkey, in fighting against Kurdish insurgents, made use of drones to carry out recent cross-border raids against PKK base areas in northern Iraq. The future will almost surely witness a strong effort by the United States to impose geopolitical discipline on attack uses of drone aircraft. Whether such an effort will be successful is uncertain as the relative high accessibility of drone technology as compared to nuclear weaponry may make it impossible to implement a non-proliferation approach.
Surely, Iran would have strong grounds to emulate Israeli and American practice with regard to targeted killing, particularly in view of the alleged Israeli targeting and assassinating of Iranian nuclear scientists in recent years, as well as mounting repeated overt threats of launching an attack designed to disable Iran’s nuclear program. Such threats would appear to be direct violations of Article 2(4) of the UN Charter that categorically prohibits “the threat or use of force” except in situations of self-defense against a prior armed attack (Article 51) or as mandated by a decision of the UN Security Council. But if Iran was to avail itself of the targeted killing precedent to assassinate individuals in Israel or the United States that it deemed to be threatening or responsible for a prior attack on its citizens, such violence would be denounced as “terrorism,” and devastating forms of retaliation would almost certainly follow.
In other words, reciprocity is not likely to shape the future of targeted killing, but rather a regime of double standards tailored to the specific realities of the spread and use of drone weaponry. If such a one sided regime is established it would have the effect of giving a new meaning to military superiority in the 21st century, and widen the opportunities for geopolitical management of international conflict. It is hard to imagine that China or Russia, and perhaps others, would acquiesce in this event, and new dangerous, costly, and unstable rivalries among leading sovereign states might likely ensue.
Human Rights: It is important to introduce the perspectives of human rights into the legal debate on targeting killing, and not limit inquiry to the applicability of international humanitarian law as set forth in the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and the Geneva Protocols of 1977. Targeted killing of a non-combatant involves a challenge to the right to life, as well as constitutes a flagrant form of extra-judicial execution. UN Special Rapporteur on Extra-judicial, Summary or Arbitrary Executions Philip Alston, in his influential 2010 report to the UN Human Rights Council, legally condemns targeted killing by drones on these bases, especially those taking place outside the combat zone, or as the Obama presidency puts it, far from “the hot battlefield.”
These human rights objections to targeted killing take on added force when extended to individuals who are suspected of inciting terrorist acts, as was the case with Anwar al-Awlaki, but without any disclosure of evidence of either the case against the target or a credible demonstration that such an individual posed an imminent security threat and could not be captured. As Hajjar points out, the difficulties posed by detention constraints and questionable evidence that would hold up in court exert pressure to avoid these complexities by killing the person in question.
Self-defense: The most serious encroachment on relatively settled conceptions of the self-defense exception to the international law prohibition on the use of force is the US reliance on a unilaterally expanded definition of self-defense to validate targeted killing in countries remote from existing combat zones. This expansion of the right to use force is a virtual abandonment without legal and political argument of the animating undertaking of the UN Charter to set forth a legal framework that delimits as carefully as language can, the legal discretion by states to use force without a Security Council mandate. Even conceding some flexibility in construing the right of self-defense with respect to the red lines of Article 51, this kind of globalization of the option to kill terrorist suspects, and by so doing often spread terror in societies that are geographically unrelated to active battlefields, stretches self-defense beyond the breaking point in a manner resembling Yoo/Gonzales insistence that water boarding was not a form of torture. Implicit in Holder’s approach is the uncomfortable question of whether there are any limits on hegemonic lawmaking left in the 21st century? The question is not really deflected by Holder’s bland and meaningless assurance: “Of course, any such use of lethal force by the United States will comply with the four fundamental law of war principles governing the use of force.” (that is, necessity, discrimination, proportionality, humanity). These abstract guidelines, legal descendants of the Just War Doctrine are meaningless without being coupled to some mechanism of accountability, and here where the evidence surrounding a targeted killing is shrouded in secrecy it is not even possible to mount an informal argument of abuse.
To view the execution of individuals in Yemen or Somalia on the ground that their activities are to be assimilated to the claim of self-defense associated with a continuing urgent response to the al-Qaeda 9/11 attacks is to unilaterally expand the option of recourse to international force beyond what international law had attempted to impose on states after 1945. True, over the years state practice has nibbled away at the red lines written into Article 51, sometimes reasonably, sometimes not, especially weakened in the name of flexibility has been the insistence that a valid claim of self-defense could only be made in response to a prior armed attack, but the Obama administration’s legal rationale for targeted killing cuts the use of force off from any testable legal mooring, including the procedural requirement in the Charter that a claimant state must submit its use of force to the Security Council for review. What becomes clear, and without any indication of forethought, is the abandonment of that effort memorialized in the words of the Preamble to the UN Charter “to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war.” Additionally, Obama has done nothing to restore the constitutional balance when it comes to war, failing to seek a declaration of war before its involvement in the NATO War against Libya. The Legal Advisor, Harold Koh, sought to justify this failure by claiming that the hostilities didn’t rise to the level of war mainly because there was little prospect of American casualties or troops on the ground. Apparently, the devastation wrought by thousands of bombing sorties does not count in Koh’s thinking as ‘war.’ Whether such a sensibility should be described as Orwellian or imperialist is mainly a matter of taste.
The most comprehensive legal justifications for targeted killing have been made by Eric Holder and John Brennan, Obama’s official chief counterterrorist advisor, in his speech at the Harvard Law School a few months ago. For devastating critique of the due process issues raised by targeted killing as rationalized by Holder see David Cole’s blog post
http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2012/mar/06/targeted-killings-holder-speech/ The irony here is that, just as John Yoo shocked the conscience of liberal America by insisting that practices long assumed to be torture (most notably water boarding) were not torture (i.e., flagrantly illegal) when employed by the US government, now the Obama administration asserts a similar position that America loves the rule of law, except of course when it might inhibit recourse to a preferred tactic. If such a bump in the road, then the lawyers are sent in with their shovels to remove any appearance of an obstacle, making it clear to the world that whatever America wants to do is “legal” so are as its leading legal technicians are concerned even when the policy in question flaunts generally accepted understandings of a rule of international law. In this instance, self-defense is stretched way beyond the accepted consensus among international law specialists as most authoritatively expressed by the majority of the International Court of Justice in its Nicaragua decision of 1986. Claiming that self-defense entitles the United States to convert the entire world into a global battlefield is certainly bad law, but it is also likely to be bad policy, generating support for extremist expressions of anti-Americanism and creating tensions with such other states as China and Russia, and maybe Brazil, India, and Turkey. And it is scant consolation for Mr. Holder, Mr. Brennan and other Obama officials to reassure the public that this broad legal authority is being used prudently and sparingly, and with a maximum effort to avoid harm to others than those targeted. Unfortunately, the facts as more impartially assessed do not lend credence to such self-serving packaging of targeted killing without even taking considerationthe spread of terror to communities that might be struck day or night by a drone missile aimed at a suspect. This indiscriminate form of state terrorism embedded in targeted killing does not even get the benefit of an acknowledgement.
A Word in Conclusion
We now have the materials we need to launch a much overdue debate on targeted killing. Unlike torture, which has vividness and immediacy that existentially assaults our sense of decency and dignity, the relative novelty and remoteness of targeted killing, a technologically facilitated innovation in the tactics of state violence, seems more abstract and numbing, and less in conflict with civilizational values. In some respects, this distinction identifies some real differences. Most legal commentators do not challenge targeted killing if confined to the combat zone, say Afghanistan, but focus their criticisms on its cross-border uses, which in the US case, can be anywhere in the non-Western world. In this regard, while torture is primarily of concern as a crime against humanity, targeted killing raises the most fundamental issues of world order, sovereignty, the scope of warfare, the crime of aggression, and extra-judicial executions.
Was it Wrong to Support the Iranian Revolution in 1978 (because it turned out badly)
9 OctI have often reflected upon my own experience of the Iranian Revolution. In the aftermath of the Vietnam War I believed that the United States would face its next major geopolitical challenge in Iran: partly because of its role via CIA in overthrowing the Mohammad Mosaddegh elected constitutional government so as to restore the repressive Shah (Mohammad Reza Pahlavi) to power in 1953, partly because there were 45,000 American troops deployed in Iran along with a network of strategic assets associated with Cold War anti-Soviet priorities, partly because there was a generation of young Iranians, many of whom studied abroad, who had experienced torture and abuse at the hands of the SAVAK, Tehran’s feared intelligence service, partly by the intense anti-regime opposition of an alienated middle class in Iran that was angered by the Shah’s reliance on international capital in implementing the ‘White Revolution,’ and partly because the Shah pursued a regionally unpopular pro-Israel and pro-South Africa (during apartheid) policy. Against this background, and on the basis of my decade long involvement in opposing the American role in Vietnam, I helped form and chaired a small, unfunded committee devoted to promoting human rights and opposing non-intervention in Iran. I was greatly encouraged to do this my several students who were either Iranian or political activists focused on Iran.
In this period, while on the Princeton faculty, the committee organized several events on the internal situation in Iran, including criticism of the American role that was dramatized by Jimmy Carter’s 1978 New Year’s Eve toast to the Shah while a guest at the palace, ‘an island of stability surrounded by the love of his people.’ Such absurdly inappropriate sentiments by the most decent of recent American presidents were undoubtedly sincere but bore witness to what is seen and unseen by the best of American leaders when the world is understood according to the protocols of geopolitics. It was Henry Kissinger who more realistically praised the Shah in his memoirs, calling him “the rarest of leaders, an unconditional ally.’ It was this sense of iran’s subordination to the United States that increased the hostility toward the Pahlavi regime across the broad spectrum of Iranian opinion, and explained what was not then understood, why even those sectors of the Iranian establishment who had benefitted most from the Shah’s regime, did not fight for its survival, but rather ran away and hide as quickly as they could.
Despite being critical of the established order in Iran, the timing and nature of the Iranian upheaval in 1978 came as a complete surprise. It also surprised the American ambassador in Iran, William Sullivan, who told me during a meeting in Tehran at the height of the domestic turmoil, that the embassy had worked out 26 scenarios of possible destabilization in Iran and not one had accorded any role to Islamic resistance. As late as August 1978 a CIA analysis concluded that Iran “is not revolutionary or even in a pre-revolutionary situation.” In fact, seeing the world through a blinkered Cold War optic led the U.S. Government to continue funding Islamic groups because of their presumed anti-Communist identity, which was the first major experience of ‘blowback’ to be disastrously repeated in Afghanistan. The unrest in Iran started with a relatively minor incident in early 1978, although some observers point to demonstrations a year earlier, which gradually deepened until it became a revolutionary process engulfing the entire country. My small committee in the United States tried to interpret these unexpected developments in Iran, inviting informed speakers, sponsoring meetings, and beginning to appreciate the unlikely role being played by Ayatollah Khomeini as an inspirational figure living for many years in exile, first in Iraq, then Paris. It was in this setting that I was invited to visit Iran to witness the unfolding revolutionary process by Mehdi Bazargan who was a moderate and respected early leader in the anti-Shah movement, and was appointed Prime Minister by Khomeini on February 4, 1979 of an interim government of post-Shah Iran. In explaining the appointment, Khomeini foreshadowed an authoritarian turn in the revolutionary process. His chilling words were not sufficiently noticed as the time: “[T]hrough the guardianship [velayat] that I have from the holy lawgiver [the Prophet], I hereby pronounce Bazargan as the Ruler, and since I have appointed him he must be obeyed. The nation must obey him. This is not an ordinary government. It is a government based on the sharia. Opposing the government means opposing the sharia of Islam…Revolt against God’s government is a revolt against God. Revolt against God is blasphemy.”
In January 1979 I went to Iran for two weeks in a small delegation of three persons. My companions on the trip were Ramsey Clark, former American Attorney General who had turned strongly against American foreign policy during the last stages of the Vietnam War and Philip Luce, long-term anti-war activist associated with religious NGOs who had gained worldwide attention a decade earlier when he showed a visiting U.S. Congressional delegation the infamous ‘tiger cages’ used by the Saigon government to imprison inhumanly its enemies in South Vietnam. The three of us embarked on this mission generally sympathetic with the anti-Shah movement, but were uncertain about its real character and likely political trajectory. I had met previously with some of those who would emerge prominently, including Abdulhassan Banisadr Ban who was living as a private citizen in Paris and dreamed of becoming the first president of a post-Shah Iran, an idealistic man who combined a devotion to Islam with a liberal democratic agenda and an Islamic approach to economic policy. His dream was fulfilled but not at all in the manner that he hoped. He did become the first president of the Islamic Republic of Iran, but his eminence was short lived as the radicalization of the political climate under the guidance of Khomeini led to his impeachment after less than two years, and made it necessary for him to flee the country, returning Paris, now a fugitive of the revolution he had so recently championed. Of course, such a pattern was not novel. Past revolutions had frequently devoured their most dedicated adherents.
Also, I had become a close friend of Mansour Farhang who was a progressive American professor of international relations teaching at a California college and a highly intelligent advocate of the revolutionary developments in Iran as they unfolded in 1978. Farhang was appointed as ambassador to the UN by the new government, but soon resigned his post, and denounced the regime he had worked to install as a new species of ‘religious fascism.’ There were others, also, who inclined me in this period of struggle against the Pahlavi Dynasty to view favorably the revolutionary developments in Iran, but later became bitter opponents.
My visit itself took place at a climactic moment in the Iranian Revolution. The Shah left the country on January 17, 1979 while we were in Iran to the disbelief of ordinary Iranians who thought the initial reports were at best a false rumor and at worst a trick to entrap the opposition. When the public began to believe that the unbelievable had actually happened there were spontaneous celebratory outpourings everywhere we were. On that very evening we had a somewhat surrealistic meeting with the recently designated Prime Minister, Shapour Bakhtiar. Bakhtiar was a longtime liberal critic of the monarchy living outside the country who had been appointed a few weeks earlier by the Shah as a desperate democratizing concession aimed at calming the rising revolutionary tide. It was a futile gesture, and one that Khomeini dismissed with the greatest contempt, showing his refusal to consider what at the time struck many as a prudent compromise. Bakhtiar lasted less than two months, left the country, and was assassinated in his home in the outskirts of Paris a decade or so later.
While in Iran we had the opportunity to have long meetings with a range of religious figures including Ayatollah Mahmoud Taleghani and Ayatollah Shariat Maderi, both extraordinary religious figures who impressed us deeply with their combination of principled politics and empathy with the suffering endured by the Iranian people during the prior 25 years. After leaving Iran we stopped in Paris and spent several hours with Ayatollah Khomeini on his last day in France before his triumphal return to Iran. At that point, Khomeini was viewed as ‘the icon’ of the revolution, but was not thought of as its future political leader. Indeed, Khomeini had told us that he looked forward to ‘resuming his religious life’ in Qom when he returned to Iran, and that he had entered the political arena most reluctantly, and only because the Shah’s rule had caused ‘a river of blood’ to flow between the people and the state. There were many intriguing facets of our meeting with this ‘dark genius’ of the Iranian Revolution, which I will leave for another post. My impression of Khomeini was of a highly intelligent, uncompromising, strong willed, and severe individual, himself somewhat unnerved by the unexpected happenings in a country he had not entered for almost 20 years. Khomeini insisted on portraying what had happened in Iran as an ‘Islamic Revolution’; he corrected us if we made any reference to an ‘Iranian Revolution.’ In this respect, this religious leader was obviously disenchanted with nationalism, as well as royalism (he spoke of the Saudi dynasty as deserving the same fate as the Pahlavis), and presumably envisioning the revival of the Islamic caliphate, and its accompanying borderless umma.
I returned from Iran with a sense of excitement about what I had witnessed and experienced, feeling that the country might be giving the world a needed new progressive political model that combined compassion for the people as a whole with a shared spiritual identity. There was no doubt that at the time Khomeini and Islamic identity had mobilized the Iranian masses in a manner that was far more intense and effective than had ever been achieved by various forms of leftist agitation and ideology. Some of those we met in Iran were cautious about what to expect, saying the revolution has unfolded ‘too fast’ for a smooth transition to constitutional governance. Others spoke about counter-revolutionary tendencies, and there were conspiratorial views voiced to the effect that the overthrow of the Shah was engineered by British intelligence, and even that Ayatollah Khomeini was a British agent, or that it was an American response to the Shah’s successful push for higher oil prices within the OPEC framework that was threatening to the West. We were guests in the home of an anti-Shah mathematician in Tehran, a dedicated democrat who told us that his recent reading of Khomeini’s published lectures on Islamic Government had made him extremely fearful about what would happen in post-Shah Iran. Also, some Iranian women we met were worried about threats to the freedoms that enjoyed under the Shah, and were unhappy about the new dress code of the revolution that was already making the wearing of the chador virtually mandatory. Some of those we spoke who had supported the revolution insisted that once a new political order is established, there would be a feminist outcry to the effect ‘we’re next!’ Other secular women told us that they enjoyed wearing the chador because it gave them a welcome relief from spending time on cosmetics and the various ways that modern Western fashion treated women as ‘objects’ designed to awaken erotic desires among men.
Despite encountering these reservations about the Iranian future, I returned from Iran deeply impressed by having touched ‘the live tissue of revolution.’ There was an extraordinary feeling of societal unity and solidarity that seemed to embrace the whole population, at that moment surmounting divisions of class and ethnicity, and even leading those with religious identifications to bond with liberal secular elements. It was a moment of historic mobilization, and although the future was unknowable, the release of positive energy that we experienced was remarkable. It included walking in a peaceful and joyous demonstration of several million in Tehran to celebrate the departure of the Shah and the victory of the revolution. Such an outpouring of love and happiness lent credibility to our hopes that Iran as a liberated society would go forward to produce a humane and distinctive form of governance.
It was not long afterwards, that what had seemed so promising degenerated into a process that was deeply disturbing, a new disposition toward severly abusing opponents and the emergence of a new religiously grounded autocracy that seemed as unscrupulous as its predecessor. Khomeini surfaced as the supreme leader of this kind of harsh regime, acknowledged as such without ever being elected. To be sure, there were violent counter-revolutionary forces at work in Iran, and there were suspicions that the United States was maneuvering behind the scenes to repeat its coup of 1953. There is no doubt that the United States encouraged Saddam Hussein to attack Iran in 1980, hoping at least to detach the oil province of Kuzistan from the country, and possibly even toppling the Khomeini government. However, these developments are interpreted, there seemed little likelihood that the values that underlay the courageous campaign against the Shah would ever again achieve the spirit of unity and liberation that we found in Iran during our visit in early 1979.
I had written and spoke publically about my impressions of the revolution that we experienced before it encountered these reactionary troubles. Ever since I have been sharply criticized for my early show of support for Ayatollah Khomeini, and my subsequent misgivings, even active opposition, were ignored. Such a pattern is not unusual, and I might try to give my side of the story at some later point, but now I wish to concentrate on another part of the experience, and talk about the relation between my positive perceptions in phase one and my disillusionment in phase two. I want to raise the question as to whether my enthusiasm in phase one was itself a misguided indulgence in utopian longing that necessarily ends in a reign of terror. Such is the essential thesis of Crane Brinton’s influential Anatomy of Revolution. This view is partially also endorsed by Hannah Arendt’s Revolution with its admiration for the American Revolution because it did not attempt to achieve a social transformation beneficial to the poor and its demonization of the French Revolution because it did insist upon the achievement of a just society, which led in her view to a bloody struggle with the threatened privileged classes and to revolutionary terror.
Such a question was posed for me with stark vividness when I read recently the brilliantly provocative essay of Slavoj Zizek entitled “Radical Intellectuals, or, Why Heidegger Took the Right Step (Albeit in the Wrong Direction),” and especially the short section, ‘Michel Foucault and the Iranian Event,’ published in his breathtaking book, In Defense of Lost Causes. Zizek’s basic support for greeting such historically charismatic events with approval is based on the idea that the faith in liberating the moral potential of human society is the only alternative to being complicit in the exploitation and demeaning of the multitudes and passive in the face of pervasive structural injustice. Zizek makes an important distinction between Heidegger’s temporary embrace of Nazism and Foucault’s of the Iranian Revolution, although he takes note of the similarities, especially the attractive quality of the transcendent moment of collective unity and its associated visionary embrace of a just future for the entire people. He seeks to distinguish the appropriateness of the enthusiasm and longing, and the actual deformity of the events.
In this assessment, Zizek sides with the outlook of the French philosopher Alain Badiou and the Irish playwright Samuel Becket: “Better a disaster of fidelity to the Event than a non-being of indifference toward the Event..one can go on and fail better, while indifference drowns us deeper and deeper in the morass of imbelcilic Being.” Of course, it is a radical claim to insist that the deformed societal structures faces us with such a stark choice between revolution and complicity via indifference. Such a view rejects reformism and liberal perspectives because of their acceptance of the structures in place, and rejection of more radical challenges on behalf of justice.
Rethinking after more than 30 years my own sequence of enthusiasm, disillusionment, and opposition I am assisted by Zizek’s disquisition although I would not pose the issues of choice so starkly. What seems to me important is to side with the revolutionary impulse, although I am not sure that our historical experience gives us any confidence that revolutionaries are learning to ‘fail better’ although they are definitely learning to ‘fail differently’ (for instance, compare the Arab Spring with the Iranian Revolution) (or Mao’s cultural revolution with the Soviet experience with Stalinism).
Was it a mistake of perception, a radical form of wishful thinking, to underestimate or fail earlier to apprehend the negative potentialities of the Iranian Revolution when I visited the country in late 1978, and again in early 1980 in the aftermath of the hostage crisis? Or was it correct to give voice to the positive potentialities that seemed to surface so compellingly during those moments of collective excitement and unity, as well as were expressed by most of those with whom I spoke during the 1979 visit to various Iranian cities? Is Zizek and Badiou correct to separate so sharply the revolutionary vision from its actual dismal human results, or is this an incriminating instance of the irresponsibility of radical thought that has an infantile appreciation of revolutionary ideals while ignoring the conservative wisdom of serious conservative thought that warns us about the demonic outcomes every effort to ditch abruptly existing institutions and class relations? Are we as a species destined to see our dreams of a just and sustainable future always shattered by the deforming effects of struggles for and against new arrangements of governing authority and class relations? Are we condemned, in other words, to banish our dreams from the domain of responsible politics and confine our efforts to marginal reformist initiatives?
Posing such questions is easier than resolving them. I am inclined to think that my response to what took place in Iran was authentic at its various phases, reflecting my best understanding of the unfolding circumstances, adjusting my evaluations phase by phase. I prefer such a view, even in retrospect, to indifference to the Shah’s oppressive regime, while realizing that drastic change, especially in a country endowed with abundant oil reserves, is almost certain to be a rocky road. Should I have been immediately more suspicious of Ayatollah Khomeini and the Islamic dimensions of the revolution? Probably, but it was not clear at the time, because the leading religious figures in Iran were articulating a vision of a just future for Iran even if the future made it clear that their preference was for some kind of theocracy. It should also be pointed out that some religious leaders did seem to envision a humane sequel to the Shah’s Iran that would be inclusive, humane, and sensitive to the human rights of all Iranians, but their voices did not prevail.
I continue to believe that despite the dangers of visionary politics, it is the only hope we have as a species of creating a sustainable and just future for humanity. In ending I should be clear that I have consistently supported reformist efforts in Iran over the years since the ouster of Banisadr and others, including the presidency of Mohammad Khatami (1997-2005) and the more recent Green Revolution. As with the days of the Shah, Iran urgently requires an emancipatory politics that liberates from within, and regenerates the hopes of the Iranian people. What Iran does not need is an Israeli-American military strike or destabilization moves funded and promoted from without. Intervention by way of military attack, or even in the form of strong economic sanctions (as present), stabilize the regime in Tehran and impose added hardships on the Iranian people. As I have argued in the past the best and only acceptable way to address the questions of nuclear weapons in the Middle East is through establishing a nuclear weapons free zone that includes Israel. To avoid even the discussion of such an option illuminates the strategic submission of American foreign policy to Israeli governmental priorities even in cases such as this where the Israeli public is split and the response to an attack, if it happens, is likely to inflict severe harm on Israel, as well as to risk transforming the entire region into a war zone.
Tags: Iran, Iranian Revolution, Jimmy Carter, Mohammad Mosaddegh, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, Shah, Tehran, United States