Iran Is Not Having It

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Tehran is on fire | Photo 02

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A friend of mine, Siavash Mousavizadeh wrote this and asked me to post it as a summary of the last few days:

"Just keep walking and don't", came a voice to my left. I was already in a state of shock but hearing somebody address me in English added to the confusion of the moment. "Well that was pretty close", came the voice to my right – also in English – but this helped settle me slightly after what was my first physical run-in with the riot squad since the mood in Tehran took a dramatic change over the election weekend.

I should have seen it coming, but there were too many directions to be looking in as we wondered around a section of Tehran that only the night before was being pulled apart and set alight. This day however, the riot squad were back and had doubled in numbers. Only moments before we were chatting with a conscripted military man, bending the truth and warming him for some info. He was jolly for a while like so many from the night before, but sharply remembered his role when a senior ranking man asked what exactly he was doing.

Our next encounter came as people nearby somehow managed to draw attention to themselves. There could have been any number of cues for this what with how trigger-happy the riot squad were. Some people rushed passed us, to which made me look over my shoulder, and in doing I saw ten swinging batons with shrieking men attached. Assuming that they'd run after those ahead I didn't move, but they only need a simple distinction for their target; I wasn't somebody with a swinging baton. I got pushed up against the wall with the baton with quite some force, "move, get out of here!", came the voice behind me. I looked to find my friend, who was also crushed beside me but with his hands up; I gathered that this would be sensible and did the same. We walked like this for a few metres, having been left alone and then tried to blend in again. It was only until my friend walked ahead of me a little further down the road that I realised he was covered in powder (tear powder as we later learned) and concluded that the whole blending in thing wasn't really working.

THE NIGHT BEFORE, THE NIGHT BEFORE

Facebook was alive with status updates from the Iranian friends among the list, people happy to report that they went out and exercised their right to vote; people providing feedback from polling booths and people sharing jokes about the way things will be. But as the day progressed and Facebook's little vote-count feature increased, things took an odd turn. It seemed universally accepted that the results would lead to a follow-up, second round what with the incumbent and the strong challenger, Mir Hossein Mousavi, pretty much commanding equally large amounts of the votes. It is common knowledge that Ahmadinejad commands a large following in rural areas and is also very much loved by big chucks of the nation. But Mousavi was collecting votes in the densely populated cities and also picking up various other disgruntled voters. The polls, as much as they can be trusted, were showing an even-split with maybe Mousavi slightly in the lead (I was assured that these were apparently taking in the geographic differences). It was also seen that both the other two candidates would maybe amass 10-15% combined, thus leaving the front-runners without much chance of getting the important 50%-plus to win outright in the first round.

Come 11pm the status message updates read, "Mousavi declared winner with over 60%". This was slightly shocking considering we were told that the result would come in by 9am the next morning. Snippets of news came following and even one national news source followed this up. Yet, almost in complete reaction to this; "Ahmadinejad so far claims 68% with one-third of the counted votes". The Facebook status messages rolled out like a fruit-machine wheel and then finally rolled in with, "BBC, both candidates claim victory". Then there was news that Mousavi's campaign offices is raided and that they've been shipped to another location for to issue a press release. Fragments of information flashed up before me quoting him saying that their are "voting irregularities" and that he will look to resolve the situation and protect the people's vote. Then nothing. The guy disappears.

Speculation then mounted and the status spammers on Facebook find comfort in imagining that only the rural areas account for the announced figures. "Two-thirds of the ballots counted...", flashes up on the screen, still giving Ahmadinejad over 60%. A second round is looking very slim by this point and the comfort is all but gone for those green-shaded icons sitting beside each message. Among all this confusion, rumours began seep in, and its pretty much been this way since.

I awoke after a few hours sleep, hoping to see that the figures have turned out to be less suspicious. "Ahmadinejad wins a landslide victory with 64% of the vote and a record turnout at 85%", is what several of the status updates reported and it wasn't even 9am, the proposed announcement time. "Mousavi arrested", read another, "who stole my vote?", went another, "can you beleive it? I don't", read the rest. The most prominent status spammer sat up top above the rest, "everybody stay calm, this is going to get sorted out".

THE NIGHT BEFORE

Nobody was able to get any work done the next day and nobody was able to text message. The text massaging ability was not the only curious technological issue going on; both the English BBC and CNN websites had been blocked. The mood in the office was one of mourning. The figures read like fiction, especially for the two outsider candidates, one of which received less votes than the void ballot count: he came fifth and there were only four candidates! The incumbent had received twice as many votes as Mir Hossein Mousavi and thus exceeded the 50% plus to win. Although at the time the result had not been officially announced, nobody I saw was accepting them, except for Mr. Ahmadinejad himself. But still I found myself asking, where was Mousavi?

Nobody was able to take it, so they took to the streets and there to greet them was the riot squad, the conscripted military and the police. The sound of car horns screamed out and a crowd had gather and even sat down near Vanak Square. I walked further down to see the square swarming with security. One such group sat 2-up on motorbikes with batons at the ready. They charged up towards the group I'd just seen and swung indiscriminately at any who not ran away fast enough. Gun sounds came from the bikes but no guns were seen. As they dispersed to chase those throwing stones across the street, I saw a woman out-cold on the road with people screaming for an ambulance.

I coincidentally bumped into a friend who coincidentally had been working on the Mousavi campaign. "What the fuck is going on? Where's Mousavi?", I asked. With his usual calmness he simply pointed to the police, before saying, "Mousavi is in talks, he's given statements". "Not since last night, has he been arrested?", I added, "No, no", he responded in confident tone, almost upset that I'd suggest it. "I need to go, I gotta sort this out", he said, before disappearing into the crowd.

I walked further up the road to find that wheely bins had been over turned and set alight. Nearby were a group young men puling up the railings between the road, the street signs and anything else that could be the ripped up and road thrown in the road. They were throwing stones at bus shelters and bridges to the cheers of the onlooking public. I had little time to be pissed off with this as the motorbikes could be heard closing in. We darted in all directions seeking shelter in apartment parking lots and the fronts of houses that had tall iron fences. The residents of each of places we would go would welcome us, shield us and share stories of the revolution, remarking on any similarities. They sympathised but didn't so much approve. One of them turned to me at one point and said, "you know what this is about, they want to show you that you shouldn't have hope", referring to those who sit above the president. What a funny way to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the Islamic Revolution, I thought, than with a little reminder of how it once was.

Tehran was pissed off. The crowds gathered and swelled up from Vanak to the Parkway crossroads, only occasionally dispersed by the riot squad who would occasionally take to the paths and hit anyone who still walked on them. From Parkway to Tajrish sat two lines of cars, all sounding their horns with the drivers and passengers holding up peace signs. What was interesting to note was that the traffic police would stand by, almost oblivious to street destruction and continue to guide traffic dutifully. I reached Tajrish, which was void of riot police but filled with people protesting and holding pictures of Mousavi and/or his friend/colleague, the former president, Mr. Khatami. It was here that I managed to get a taxi out to a neighbouring city where I live, sharing it with Mousavi supporters and further more rumours and speculation. As I approached my home city, my mobile gained reception again where across most of Tehran the network had been shut down. As I looked out of the taxi window, I got the sense that I'd travelled to another country, the streets were filled with jubilant Ahmadinejad supporters, waving the national flag before any car that passed. As I arrived home I noted that there were no further status messages to be read as Facebook had joined the list of other sites that had been blocked.

Can you believe it? I don't believe it.

THE DAY AFTER

Still no news from a friend who was arrested for taking photographs in Vanak on that first night. He's apparently been released but apparently nobody knows which station he was taken to. If I'm not mistaken, I heard he was told to delete all SMS messages and photos from his phone.

A friend is recovering following an attack by the Basij (a prominent militant religious group). He was jumped on by the group after being told by them that he hates Imam Khomeini, the revolutionary leader. He didn't antagonise but was beaten and shocked with a Tazer three times. Upon being able to escape, they chased after him and hit him on the back of the head. He was knocked unconscious and later taken in by a family and tended to. He is now at home recovering, bruised and having lost a lot of blood. The doctors say his skull is cracked from the strike to his head.