We are living in two countries. First is the one turned on its head, its citizens bearing witness to massive unrest, anger and dejection, running about, helter-skelter, voicing their fury while avoiding sticks and slugs. They retreat into darkness, tired and beaten, in silence and gloom, only to appear again on rooftops screaming at the top of their lungs and making sure those who should know, know they are still there, there is a tomorrow.
The second is a country in peace, a serene fantasyland where things are chugging along, business is as usual, and families are apparently picnicking in the cool breeze of summer nights. We are told that university exams are taking place as planned, e-tax laws are on the agenda, and the new president is scheduled for inauguration following the recent heroic election turnouts. Flip the channel and there is a cute little flower dancing to music. Flip again and there is mention of a few sore losers, terrorists, and foreigners trying to disturb the peace. They were of course dealt with swiftly. If you have information about these other hooligans call here…and now to Joo-Moon – Moon-Joo, Moo-Joon, or whatever this Korean soap garbage is called.
And where do these two worlds interface? Well, for one thing, it is where flesh and bone meets metal, and then some. They now meet at checkpoints, at flooded prisons and hospitals where people are looking for loved ones or their bodies, at special courts set up for trying the traitors, and soon enough in people’s homes. I wonder how long the authorities think they need to play the denial game before they realize they have turned into caricatures of themselves. Or does that even matter? I am reminded of Tariq Aziz in 2003, who kept denying the American troops’ presence in Iraq as their tanks were rolling a couple of blocks from where he was being interviewed. The cameraman only needed to turn a few degrees.
Tehran has changed. Although traffic patterns during the day are becoming normal and there is no more waving and honking, groups do not form in the main streets and squares, even in front of bus stations, for the militia disperses the crowds before they get large. Normally the streets are jammed with people at night during summer, as late as two in the morning, cruising in cars or stopping to get ice-cream, but over the past two nights, some of the hottest and busiest areas have been empty.
Haft-e Tir Square on Monday was the last major battleground in Tehran that I know of, where a group who took shelter in the Al-Javad mosque was swarmed and beaten by the militia. Many people were looking up in fear of snipers rumored to be positioned where trouble was expected. The crowd that gathered at the square was relatively small and the scuffles spilled into the alleys where the militia started to smash doors and windows, and threw tear gas on rooftops to prevent people in their homes from watching.
The border between courage and stupidity is now blurring as the diminishing crowds realize they are being hurt and killed without inhibition, and that they are in for the long haul.