In Shiite Iranian culture the self is understood in terms of the dichotomies of ’oumq/sæth (depth/surface) and sanggin/sæbouk (weighty/light). An ’amiq (profound) and sanggin (weighty) person is quiet, gentle, serious, and thoughtful. A sæthi (shallow) and sæbouk (light) person is playful, unserious, childish, and joyful. The personal character most valued in Iran is quiet and gentle, demonstrating nejabat (modesty) by conspicuous self-abasement. The immense value of the “modest self” is also reflected in the Persian language.
In his study of language and power in Iran, William Beeman indicates how Persian pronouns and verbs correspond with basic orientations in social relations. He argues that Persian interpersonal discourse is based on relationships of inequality and a process of “other-raising” versus “self-lowering.” Basically, in interpersonal interaction “one uses terms that serve to place oneself in an inferior status and the other person in a superior one. . . . Thus self-reference may use the expression bandeh (slave) in place of the neutral pronoun man (I)” (Beeman 1986: 16). Similarly, there are two versions of the verb “to say” (goftan): farmoudan (to command) is used for others and ‘arz kardan (the self-lowering version of the verb) for oneself. In Persian, it is “you mifarmaeid” and “I ‘arz mikonam.” This principle of “self-lowering” is the core of ta‘arof, a major code of communication among Iranians.1 The accomplished use of ta‘arof is taken as a sign of social sophistication, while an inability to observe the rules of ta‘arof in interaction is indicative of social ineptness. “Ta‘arof is valued because it is viewed as an expression of selflessness and humility” (Beeman 2001: 47). This favored self-abasement is also expressed by many Iranians in their choice of modest names for children; for example, a not unusual name for men is Gholam (slave), which is often combined with the names of Imams, like Gholam-Hossein (Hossein’s slave) or Gholam-Ali (Ali’s slave).
The norm of modesty is well expressed in veiling as a form of highly valued self-effacement. The highly regarded personal quality of being mahjoub means to be both veiled and modest. Another feature of this social ethic is to value grief. A person’s capacity to experience and express grief is an indication of his/her “deep” and “weighty” character. The verbs gham khordan or ghosseh khordan (to eat sorrow, to grieve) also mean “to care” and “to be concerned.” The hegemonic ideal of noble suffering and normatively desired dysphoria is best expressed in Persian as sokhtan va sakhtan (burning and enduring). The ideal self is well acquainted with sorrow.
The experience of sadness, loss, melancholy, and depression is rooted in two primary meaning contexts in Iranian culture: one associated with an understanding of the person or self, the other with a deep Iranian vision of the tragic, expressed in religion, romance and passion, and in interpretation of history and social reality. (Good et al. 1985: 385)
An emulation of sorrow is based on pre-Islamic mythology, in classical Persian poetry, and Iranian interpretations of history. Primarily, however, it relates to the central Iranian religious traditions and the tragedy of Karbala (Good et al. 1985: 387).
What follows is a discussion of how the new regime in Iran has used these symbolic resources to implant the desired social order in its subjects. Articulated as resistance to the consumer culture (farhang-e masrafi) and “Weststruckness” that characterized the pre-Revolutionary, West-oriented Shah era, the contemporary Islamic order builds on an aestheticization of modesty manipulated through three mechanisms: a Revolutionary romanticization of poverty; veiling practices; and the emotionalization of politics.
Consumption and Purity
As will be shown below, both Islamist and secular intellectuals in Iran have regarded consumption as a primary cause of corruption, self-alienation, and dependence on neocolonial capitalism. They argue that in a consumer society there is no place for native identity, authentic culture, or morality. Throughout his book Gharbzadegi (especially chapter 9), Al-e Ahmad attempts to persuade the reader that the most conspicuous syndrome of Weststruckness (gharbzadegi) is the consumption of Western goods. The Weststruck man is described as an unauthentic (biessallat) “prissy” (qerti), who superficially mimics the West.
He is always primping; always making sure of his appearance. He has even been known to pluck his eyebrow. He places great importance on his shoes, his clothes, and his home. You would think he had just emerged from golden wrapping paper or just come from some European maison. . . . The [Weststruck] man is the most faithful consumer of Western manufactured products. (Al-e Ahmad 1982: 70–71)
Later on the author condemns the “Weststruck man” because “It is on account of him that we have such unauthentic and unindigenous [urban] architecture . . . under the ugly glare of the neon and fluorescent lights” (Al-e Ahmad 1982: 71).
Shariati too declares that “worldliness” has tainted Iranian culture. He defines “worldliness” as the nihilism of Western culture, which promotes individual hedonism (Shariati 1979: 79), stripping nations of their authenticity and transforming human beings into “consumer animals” (see Mirsepassi 2000: 122). In Shariati’s view, the main consequences of consumerism are “self-alienation” (az khod biganegi) and uprootedness from authentic Iranian/Islamic culture. Shariati’s and Ale Ahmad’s occidentophobia and attack on consumerism are presented in a patriarchal way. Throughout his speeches and publications Shariati expresses anguish that consumerism has converted Iranian women into “European dolls” (arousak-e farangi) who can only consume and consume. Al-e Ahmad’s “Weststruck” person is, in contrast, always a male, whom he labels “effeminate” (zan sefat) to belittle him. Women cannot themselves be Weststruck, but, on the other hand, they are used as means to deceive men.2 Ali Shariati, influenced by Frantz Fanon, also uses postcolonial discourse to condemn consumerism. Shariati developed a populist version of Islam, combining Fanon’s views, Marx’s criticisms of capitalism, and Shiite traditions. He believes that the “West,” in order to enslave the “East,” first turns it into a consumer of its products. Consequently the “East” becomes alienated from its own native culture, turning into an eternal identity-less consumer and slave of the West. Shariati believed that modernized meant modernized in consumption. “One who becomes modernized is one whose tastes now desire . . . European new forms of living and modern products.” Non-Europeans are modernized for the sake of consumption. Therefore, the Europeans had to make non-Europeans equate “modernization” with civilization” to impose the new consumption pattern upon them, since everyone has a desire for civilization.”3 Such fears affect secular intellectuals, too. Obsessed by concerns with authenticity but also influenced by neo-Marxist intellectuals such as Marcuse, Iranian intellectuals have targeted consumerism as a crucial feature of the Shah’s cultural policy.
A fear of consumerism has been the main theme in literature and films since the 1970s, most visibly in the book Tars va Larz and the film Keshti-ye Yonani. Tars va Larz (Fear and Tremble), written by the celebrated psychiatrist and novelist Gholam Hossein Sa‘edi (1380/2001), tells stories about coastal people along the Persian Gulf. The arrival of a foreign (European) ship changes the life of the coastal people. The foreigners are beautiful and offer the local people a large amount of food and commodities. Overconsumption metamorphoses the people from human beings into a kind of parasites waiting for the arrival of other boats.
CINEMATIC VIGNETTE
Keshti-ye Yonani (The Greek Ship, 1999, by Nasser Taghvai)
This short film is one of six episodes making up the film Tales of Kish