SCARING THE MULLAHS - FROM JAIL
by Amir Taheri
New York Post
July 22, 2005

July 22, 2005 -- JUST over a month ago, Sa'id Mortazavi, the Islamic revolutionary prosecutor in Tehran, agreed to receive the wife of one of the many political prisoners languishing in his jails. The visitor wanted Mortazavi to know that her husband, 46-year-old dissident Akbar Ganji, then in the third week of a hunger strike, was nearing death.

"What is all the fuss about?" Mortazavi snapped at Ganji's wife. "Who cares if Ganji dies? Each day many prisoners die in our jails."

Now, however, it seems that many people care about Ganji's fate because "the fuss" about his imprisonment and alleged torture has been transformed into a debate about the future of the Khomeinist system.

Who is Ganji and what is so special about him? Why has President George W Bush singled him out of countless dissidents in Iran by making a special appeal for his release?

Since 1979, when the mullahs seized power in Tehran, an estimated 2.3 million Iranians have spent some time in prison because of their opposition to the regime. In a sense, anybody who is somebody in most walks of life has had some experience of prison in the Islamic Republic. And that includes the Shiite clergy: More mullahs have been imprisoned in the past 27 years than members of any other social group in Iran.

The revolutionary regime has also executed over 100,000 of its real or imagined opponents and driven a further 4.5 million people into exile, without a second thought.

Why is the establishment so afraid of Ganji?

When Ganji first began his dissent in 1996, many regarded him with suspicion. After all, he had been a member of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard for over a decade before joining the Intelligence and Security Service as an analyst. In that capacity he had even served a stint at the Iranian Embassy in Turkey, "keeping an eye" on exiled dissidents. Are the Khomeinists sore that one of their own has decided to turn against them?

Many Iranians believe this is the case.

That explanation, however, is not satisfactory. Over the years, countless other Khomeinists have become critics of the regime. Most of the "students" who held the American diplomats hostage in Tehran in 1979-80 are now among the loudest critics of the regime. Many of the pseudo-intellectuals who collaborated in "cleansing" the universities and purging "counter-revolutionary" academics, writers and scholars have also distanced themselves from the regime. One of them, Abdul-Karim Sorush, has even become a critic of clerical intervention in politics. Another, Mustafa Moin, was the candidate of the "reformists" in the recent presidential election.

Ganji's case is special for a number of reasons.

To begin with, he is the quintessential child of the Khomeinist revolution in socio-political terms. By social background, family history and political upbringing he should be the model Khomeinist. He has fought for Khomeinism, both in the war against Iraq and in campaigns against dissidents and armed secessionists.

Unlike other in-house critics of the regime, Ganji has succeeded in liberating himself, morally and intellectually, from his Khomeinist illusions.

Moin, for example, pretends that Khomeinism is a pure and beautiful ideal sullied in practice. Ganji, on the other hand, has no doubt that Khomeinism itself is the root of all of Iran's sufferings.

Moin is like Mikhail Gorbachev, who, even in the final moments when the Soviet Titanic was sinking, was trying to fool himself and others with a vision of " pure Leninism." Ganji, however, is like Boris Yeltsin who, although a member of the Soviet Politburo for years, at one point realized that the Bolshevik Revolution had been "the greatest tragedy in the history of the Russian people," and said so publicly.

Moin wants to reform a system that is unreformable. Ganji wants its abolition. Moin is no threat to the establishment of which he is a privileged member; Ganji is.

The more shrewd operatives of the regime, such as the outgoing President Muhammad Khatami, encourage "dissent lite" because it helps foster the illusion that the system can accommodate a measure of debate. That illusion, in turn, could hoodwink some Westerners, such as former President Bill Clinton, into talking of the Khomeinist system as "a kind of democracy."

When Shirin Ebadi was nominated as the Nobel Peace laureate for 2004, Khatami welcomed her with the admonition not to " go beyond the red lines." Mrs. Ebadi took the advice, and all went well for her. She devoted her acceptance speech to attacking the United States for " abuses of human rights" in Guantanamo Bay, and castigating Israel for "oppressing the Palestinians." Knowing her red lines, she made no mention of the tens of thousands of prisoners — including some of her own friends — rotting in Khatami's jails. But the "most important red line" according to Khatami concerns the criticism of "Supreme Guide" Ali Khamenei and the late Ayatollah Khomeini.

Ganji, however, has rejected all advice from Khatami. He has insisted that the only red lines must be fixed by law in a democratic system.

Another reason why the regime is so scared of Ganji is that, unlike other critics, he cannot be accused of wanting anything for himself. He is not a politician and is not gunning for office. By remaining just a "concerned citizen," he appeals to those Iranians who feel that they, too, have been let down by the system. And because he is not associated with any political group he is respected by all.

But what may have triggered the " fight to the death" between Ganji and the system is his courageous and meticulously researched exposure of the corruption and cruelty at the heart of the regime, especially during the eight-year presidency of Ali-Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, the mullah who attempted a comeback but was defeated by Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in last month's presidential election.

The books that Ganji published on the subject were instantly banned. But they have sold millions and remain important documents submitted to the court of history.

Ganji's voice must not be silenced. Even if we disagree with aspects, as this writer does, or even all of his analyses of Iran's problems, we must treasure him as a voice that appeals to the conscience of Iranians.

Iranian journalist Amir Taheri is a member of Benador Associates.

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