Iranians Get to Dabble in Democracy

Accused of sponsoring international terrorism, condemned and isolated for alleged efforts to acquire nuclear weapons and reproached for harsh religious edicts such as the death order against British author Salman Rushdie, the rulers of Iran seem to be trying something different this week.

Call it democracy--sort of.

Iranians vote Friday to elect their aging revolution’s fifth Majlis, or parliament, and for the first time since radical Islamists took power in 1979, the electorate has some choices in political programs.

There are two factions vying for dominance: a slate of pragmatic, modernizing reformers lined up behind President Hashemi Rafsanjani; and conservative traditionalists associated with the current leader of parliament, Ali Akbar Nateq-Nuri.

This is not, of course, a straightforward Western-style democratic contest. Things are more murky.

For instance, Rafsanjani’s side put Nateq-Nuri on its ticket because it wanted to dispel any hint of open electoral conflict among the country’s top leadership.

This is also not the kind of democracy where just anyone can stand up and criticize authority.

One banned party, the Freedom Movement, tried that this week, conducting a news conference for international journalists. Security force members suddenly appeared, turning it into one of the shortest such sessions ever held. Small matter of a missing permit, authorities asserted.

Religious councils also screened all the would-be candidates for spiritual purity, disqualifying more than 2,000 hopefuls for the 270 seats.

Still, some candidates are daring to raise a subject that has been absent from public debate since Iran’s mullahs and the merchants combined to oust Shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi 17 years ago: freedom.

For a world worried about alleged Iranian involvement in everything from Palestinian terrorism to nuclear arms, the long-term implications of the vote could be enormous.

If Rafsanjani’s slate, calling itself the Servants of Construction, gains the upper hand, it would provide the president and his supporters a mandate to renew stalled economic reforms, introduce a limited multi-party system and perhaps, eventually, allow tentative moves to normalize relations with the United States.

Such a thaw is considered impossible if Nateq-Nuri’s group wins.

Over the past four years, his conservative Assn. of Combatant Clergy--the largest group in parliament--has reversed the liberalizing trends begun by Rafsanjani after his election in 1989 and has stalled the government program of privatization and economic reform.

Of course, factions in Iran’s ruling elite have always existed. What is new is that they are out in the open.

“This is one sign of an emerging civil society,” said Hadi Semati, an analyst at the Center for Scientific Research and Middle Eastern Strategic Studies in Tehran. “I think this is a positive sign.”

Symbolizing the change in climate is Faezez Hashemi, Rafsanjani’s daughter and one of the most prominent candidates. She has publicly questioned the conservative parliament’s highly unpopular ban on satellite television; that ban forces owners to hide their roof dishes in closets or behind walls during the day, only to reinstall them at night.

In a recent interview, she argued that Islamic values are strong enough to face the outside world’s “cultural offensive” without such restrictions. Within limits, she said, “we must tolerate each other’s ideas.”

A few weeks ago, it looked as if the socially conservative, xenophobic mullahs who now dominate parliament would coast to victory again.

But the surprise unveiling of a Rafsanjani slate has put clerics on the defensive--a testament to the feeling of disappointment among Iranians with their 17-year experiment as the world’s only modern theocracy.

The economy is faltering. The country’s relative isolation and an almost total lack of foreign investment have taken a steady toll. The inflation rate is more than 50%, and declining oil prices and sales have cut deeply into living standards. A visit to a restaurant or a vacation at the Caspian Sea, once common, are now unthinkable for many middle-class Iranians.

For many, the straitjacket of living by the strict Islamic code laid out by the late Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini has become unbearably tiresome.

“I am not saying I’m irreligious, but I simply don’t like mullahs,” said the exasperated wife of an admiral, afraid to give her name because of her husband’s vulnerability.

Even in her own living room, it was with nervousness that she lifted her black scarf to reveal short-cropped, red-tinted hair. “It’s being forced to wear it that I hate.”

Despite such sentiments, observers say it would be wrong to conclude that most Iranians reject their revolution.

But many are more inclined to reexamine what should be permissible in an Islamic state.