THE nationwide protest movement in Iran in the aftermath of the rigged presidential elections in June 2009, better known as the Green Movement, marks a turning point in recent Iranian history. In particular, it laid bare the key trends defining Iranian society. First, it showed that a deep, general discontent runs through society, as evidenced by a pent-up revolutionary potential – residing, in particular, in youth and women – waiting to erupt on a massive scale. Second, the Green Movement confirmed that notwithstanding militarization of society and increased pressures on civil society, Iranians were not afraid to confront their repressive rulers, if necessary. Third, the movement clarified the shared tendency and tacit inclination among Iranians toward a non-violent revolutionary movement. Consequently, the Green Movement initiated a ‘civil rights’ and democratic movement.¹

Equally, the stirrings in Iran inspired a series of protest movements in the Arabic-speaking Middle East and North Africa, the so-called Arab Spring, in 2011, entailing the democratic movements of Tunisia, Egypt, Jordan, Bahrain, Libya, Yemen, and Syria. Each of these movements took a divergent turn of events. In Egypt, a military coup restored the ancien regime in July 2013 following a year of divisive politics under a democratically elected Muslim Brothers’ government. Libya degenerated into a failed state, while Syria and Yemen plunged into bloody civil wars; the Bahraini movement was suppressed, while in Jordan immediate political reforms addressed the main grievances, thus preventing further alienation of the protesters from the state. In contrast, Tunisia’s Jasmine Revolution succeeded in establishing a secular government and promoting a democratic society, in large measure due to the vigilance of women’s organizations and the labour movement.

 

In recognizing the efforts of civil society, the 2015 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to the Tunisian National Dialogue Quartet – an organization mandated with initiating dialogue among various civil society actors with the quadruple objective of (a) preventing the return of dictatorship (the sad fate of Egypt); (b) averting factionalism and potential civil war (the horrid reality in Syria, Libya, and Yemen); (c) blocking Gramscian ‘passive revolution’ through which the state dispossesses civil society of its initiatives by championing reforms from above (Jordan); and finally, (d) curbing the advance of radical Islamists (as in Egypt, Syria, and Yemen). Tunisia in many ways became a model for peaceful transformation.

The Egyptian occupation of Tahrir Square inspired the Occupy Movement in the United States (and elsewhere), a movement to generate public awareness about the rise of plutocracy in American politics and staggering economic inequalities under current-day savage capitalism that keeps the 99-percenters struggling to survive. With images of peaceful Iranian protesters braving police brutality in the streets dominating the world news in 2009 and 2010, the Green Movement, as I have suggested, unwittingly created a ripple effect and inspired activists from around the world.² And yet, the movement itself could not sustain in the face of effective, clinical repression by the state. The unintended contribution of Iran’s protest movement to other movements captures the phenomenon aptly depicted in George Katsiaficas’ term, the ‘Eros Effect’ of social movements.³

 

It is, therefore, no exaggeration that despite the suppression of the Green Movement, this ten-month protest changed the face and the global image of a nation: no longer are Iranians viewed as a docile, monolithic, and inconspicuous people, the image broadcast by both the Iranian state’s propaganda and western corporate media’s seemingly irremediable ignorance about the Middle East (and elsewhere!). The movement marked what I have called ‘dignity’s uprising’,⁴ a term inspired by John Holloway’s characterization of the Zapatista revolt in Chiapas, Mexico, in 1994.⁵

My assessment of the state of collective action in present-day Iran in this essay inevitably dwells on, as its point of departure, the aftermath of the Green Movement. The movement marked the birth of new ideas, new approaches, and a new soul of a nation. It showed how a people chose to be distinct from their rulers both in expression and action. Intent on using methods of non-violent resistance, protesters attempted to put together the building blocks of a future Iran while still living under repressive conditions. Since 2009, thousands of women, student, and worker activists have been jailed and dozens killed in the streets or while under arrest. Human rights lawyers and advocates have faced prison sentences and deprivation of social rights. Members of ethnic and religious minorities have been consistently subjected to detention and imprisonment, even death.

At the same time, the Islamic Reformists are no longer tolerated and the dissenting presidential candidates – Mir Hossein Mousavi and Mehdi Karrubi, as well as Zahra Rahnavard (Mousavi’s wife) – have been under house arrest for five years. Thousands have had to flee Iran in the past six years, and tens of thousands of expatriate Iranians cannot return to their homeland for fear of reprisals due to their support for the Green Movement during those heroic days of action.

 

To more deeply probe the states of collective action in today’s Iran in the aftermath of the Green Movement, we need to revisit the socio-political processes preceding the movement. Specifically, two events need highlighting. Mojtaba Mahdavi offers a political-structural analysis of post-revolutionary Iran based on a quintipartite periodization of the Islamic Republic that speaks to the changing political dynamics of the state. These periods are: (a) 1979-1989, the post-revolutionary period led by Ayatollah Khomeini, involving the consolidation of power, the constitutional implementation of the principle of Guardianship of the Supreme Jurist (velayat-i faqih), and the war with Iraq; (b) 1989-1997, the post-Khomeini and post-war period of ‘neo-liberal policy of reconstruction (sazandegi)’ under President Hashemi Rafsanjani and the shaky ascent of Ayatollah Khamene`i to Supreme Guardianship; (c) 1997-2005, the Reform era symbolized by the electoral victory of President Khatami and the growth of civil society; (d) 2005-2013, the populist post-Reform period led by President Ahmadinezhad, a product of the state-security apparatus, the office of the velayat-i faqîh, and Iran’s neo-conservatives, and the period during which the Supreme Leader acquired full control over the state machinery; and (e) 2013-present, signified by the presidency of Rouhani, former Supreme Security Council Secretary, mandated to steer Iran away from imposed economic sanctions and international isolation, close to Ayatollah Khamene`i and traditional conservatives while being equally close to the pragmatist, Hashemi Rafsanjani.⁶ This periodization contextualizes the differential treatment of social movements under each competing vision of the Islamic Republic. And we now turn to the two important events.

 

The momentous electoral victory of Mohammad Khatami in 1997 based on a reform (eslahat) agenda constitutes the first event. Khatami won by a landslide (70% of the total ballots) through active, visible, and massive support of women, youth, and students who took upon themselves to set up campaign offices and promote him. Post-revolutionary Iran had never before experienced such an invigorating election, nor witnessed such grassroots social force emerging from the concerted efforts of youth (in the 1990s, about 70% of the population was under 30). This democratically oriented social force brought Khatami to power twice (in 1997 and 2001), elected a reformist-dominated Parliament in 2000, and sent reformists to the Tehran Municipal Council in 1999. Unfortunately, continually hindered by a hostile judiciary and security (both animated by the Supreme Leader), the Reformist President could not meet the ‘explosive demands for greater pluralism and freedom’ of the people.⁷ The Reformists failed to deliver the ‘rule of law’ – the most basic popular demand and a key slogan in their campaign.

 

With Reformist victory, a twofold hidden reality surfaced: first, there was (and still is) more than one interpretation of what the Islamic Republic should mean politically, socially and legally; and second, the Iranian political system has the potential for democratic change from within. Between 1997 and 2005, the Reformists unsuccessfully pushed for social, legal and constitutional reforms to Iran’s authoritarian legal and political system, but the ruling establishment proved unyielding.

In failing to initiate substantial changes to the structure of power, however, the Reform era created unparalleled conditions for the growth of civil society. Despite censorship, publishing thrived. Critical journalism flourished despite many topics being banned and a fear of legal prosecution. A dynamic and growing women’s movement emerged, increasing awareness about the legal and political impediments to gender equality. Both secular and Islamic feminists worked hard to influence urban culture, making discriminatory laws against women a public issue. Human, children, women, and prisoners’ rights lawyers like Mehrangiz Kar, Nasrin Sotudeh, and the 2003 Nobel Peace Prize recipient, Shirian Ebadi, succeeded in bringing these legal challenges to the centre of public discourse.

 

Both secular and reformist student activists succeeded in branching off from the state-sanctioned student federation, Office for Consolidating Unity. Note that there were 3.5 million registered university students in Iran (2008 data), signifying that the student movement was a formidable social force. Universities became sites for a vigorous exchange of ideas and for debating activist initiatives. During the Reform period, the genuine labour-unionist movement also emerged and, despite legal and security restrictions and arrests of activists, the pioneering efforts of the Bakers’ Union, Haft-Tappeh Sugar Cane Workers’ Union and the Tehran Transit Workers’ Union (established in 1968, banned after 1979, and re-founded in 2004), became models for future syndicalist attempts.⁸

Islamic Reformism should be understood as a movement without a body. The youth and women who made the Reformist victory a reality did not care much about, and mostly did not even adhere to, the political vision of the Reform movement. They were mostly young children in 1979, and at this stage sensed the possibility of escaping the suffocating social and political conditions imposed on them in the preceding eighteen years. As a movement without a body, the Reformists had no choice but to rely on the mobilization of a civil society that was intellectually dominated by secular figures and ideas. Simultaneously though, the Iranian judiciary and security establishment made relentless efforts to shut down magazines and venues, prosecute activists, and apply pressure on civil society.

 

The second key event was the student protest of July 1999 that erupted in the University of Tehran. In order to discredit the Reformists and terrorize civil society, Iranian security apparatchiks orchestrated kidnappings and assassinations of several writers, publishers, and leaders of the secular opposition for long periods prior to the date, a process that reached its heights in November and December 1998. On 6 July 1999, pro-Reform daily, Salam, exposed a document that implicated the Iranian security establishment in these ‘chain murders’. The paper was immediately shut down on judiciary’s orders. In protest, student residents of the University of Tehran dormitory (said to be the largest university dorm in the Middle East) took to the streets on 9 July 1999. The rally quickly degenerated into bloody clashes between students and police that lasted five days. An unspecified number of students were killed and a great many injured.

The protest proved a number of significant factors: (a) the generation of the Revolution that was coming of age at this time would not stop at legal Reformism; (b) the general sense of discontent was much deeper than perceived through grassroots support for the Reforms, indicating that there was a simmering revolutionary potential which organized groups involving younger generation were trying to build upon; and (c) by virtue of its specific constituency (universities bring together young people from all walks of life), the student movement stood at the nexus of several key political-ideological orientations or social movements – women’s, poor, ethnic minorities, leftists, Islamic reformists – that in and by themselves did not have a marked or continuous public presence due to imposed restrictions. In short, the student protest was an embodiment of what one may term a ‘nexus movement’: the 1999 student protest eerily anticipated the Green Movement, as they both shared the same ‘spirit of refusal’.

 

In the aftermath of the systematic suppression of social movements, labour unions and critical journalism, as well as the suffocating restrictions imposed on NGOs and the publishing industry during the Presidency of Ahmadine-zhad (2005-2013), President Rouhani came to power with a mandate of stability. Ahmadinezhad had conclusively pursued economic neo-liberalization through extensive subsidy removals and privatization of public institutions, while distracting the masses by subsidy payoffs and inflammatory rhetoric. Rouhani’s presidential campaign based on stability and ‘rule of law’ was symbolized by the colour purple, alluding to the Green Movement, and thus tried to capitalize on the popular passion attached to the failed movement. His election promises occasionally referred to diluted versions of clauses from Mousavi’s 2009-2010 declarations on the inalienable dignity of humans.⁹ But, in the (painfully playful) rhetorical ground of Iranian politics, his promises, if at all resonating with certain sections of the electorate, only did so against the silhouette of a declining quality of social life under Ahmadinezhad. Stability meant removal of economic sanctions, so that, by following neo-liberal policies, the Iranian ‘security-commercial complex’ would gain greater international clout for itself while simultaneously imposing further restrictions on civil society.

 

In contrast to the Ahmadinezhad government under which en masse arrests, prosecution of activists and journalists and forcing dissidents into self-exile was the clear policy, the issue before Rouhani was the clinical management of activism. Given that the urge for collective action has been significantly dampened due to repressive measures in the past, we today witness a shrewd and calculated policy of dissent management through carefully targeted arrests and imprisonments. Unlike the imposition of heavy sentences or large bails which sends out a clear message of deterrence to activists, protests are no longer necessarily suppressed but managed, contained and redirected. This is especially the case with the now commonplace rallies of workers or teachers.

With the debasement of social movements and the restrictions imposed on critical journalism and legal advocacy, civil society activism has now become far more difficult. But theoretically there is something else: during the Reform period (and even to a diminishing extent in the post-Reform era) collective action, legal advocacy, and critical journalism were all oriented, conceptually, toward citizenship rights. They had grown into rights-based or civil rights movements. The current situation, given that the greatest civil rights movement in the Middle East before the Arab Spring was suppressed in Iran by 2010, indicates a turning point.

 

Let us be mindful of the context. According to a 2004 survey, ‘about 71% of Iranians are dissatisfied with "the economic situation of the country", while 25% are somewhat satisfied and only 5% are very satisfied. The survey data showed about 71% of men, 70% of women, 72% of the employed and 79% of university graduates classifying themselves as dissatisfied.’¹⁰ Given the sense of general discontent, the state has engaged in social engineering projects involving surgical removal of non-assimilable writers or activists, isolation of highly regarded public dissenters, and simultaneously mobilization and, thus, management of intellectual debates, as a pressure valve, by allowing intellectual and cultural magazines and non-academic institutes to hold forums featuring secular and left intellectuals and academics. Collective action and activist mobilization, in the fashion common to the Reform era, would not be tolerated. Because of these restrictive trends, we can today identify basically three social sources of collective action.

With the diminishment of civil society whence the rights-based activism arose, activism is now possible only if connected to economic or employment demands voiced through guild associations or unions like the Iranian Teachers’ Guild Association( ITGA) or, to a lesser extent, student unions. Due to their ‘economic orientation’, guild associations and unions are not regarded as giving rise to ‘security issues’, although their leading figures have remained prone to targeted arrests and security charges, especially in the past two years. Unmistakably economic in their demands, these activists intentionally refrained from ‘political’ signalling. They knew well that the slightest hint of politics would threaten their collective demands. Teachers’ and workers’ movements remain key since they represent, respectively, the pauperization of the middle and working classes due to neo-liberalization of economy.

 

Teachers’ protest movements have become far more visible in the past few years. The February 2015 statement of the Central Council of Guild Organization of Iranian Teachers (CCGOIT) declared that despite the establishment of teachers’ associations in the 1990s, and having challenged the policies of five governments and parliaments, the teachers are still far from earning a reasonable income and other benefits that would permit them a decent life within Iran’s unmanageable inflation and subsidy cutbacks. Stating that their demands were ‘absolutely professional, non-political and aimed at meeting their basic needs’, the CCGOIT declared that challenges to policy impediments for fair salaries had proven unproductive. Budget increases had brought no improvement in teachers’ salaries and benefits. ‘No society, even in favourable economic conditions and living standards, is without trade union organizations.’ As a result, the statement continues, ‘the CCGOIT and ITGA will continue to pressure the government to meet their demands.’¹¹

Following numerous teachers’ rallies across the country, organizers and activists have constantly been under surveillance and subjected to harassment. Dozens of ITGA members have been arrested since 2009 because of their involvement with the Green Movement and other ‘civil rights’ movements, and the ITGA’s demand for their release was met with increased pressure. Ali Akbar Baghani, Secretary-General of the ITGA, in 2015, was sentenced to one year in prison to be followed by ten years of internal exile. Likewise, following widespread teachers’ protests in March 2015, Alireza Hashemi, General-Secretary of Iranian Teachers’ Association (ITA) was arrested on 19 April 2015 and charged with ‘aiding and abetting assemblies for the purpose of collusion and propaganda against the state’, the vaguest and most commonly used charge for legally suppressing activists.¹² The teachers continue to maintain their solidarity with their imprisoned comrades, demanding their release, quoting President Rouhani’s statement that all groups and associations have a right to peaceful assembly and public protest.¹³

 

The labour movement in Iran has a long history, and unfortunately it has always had turbulent relations with the Islamic Republic.¹⁴ As the country moves further ahead in its neo-liberal policies, the labour movement stands at an interesting juncture. Not only are its advocates on the left long gone (purged or exiled), the labour movement has also consistently stood at a distance from other rights-based movements. As such, given Iran’s massive poverty and deteriorating working conditions under aggressive neo-liberalism, the labour movement has become less political and more trade and guild oriented – that is, demands-based. ‘Unhappy Iranian workers increasingly pursue their interests through individual activities, whether political or economic, rather than collective political action.’¹⁵ Thus, the movement’s current configuration undoubtedly has a syndicalist orientation. But like the teachers unions, workers unions are also under continued pressure and union leaders face security charges.

 

Many workers’ strikes and protests occur in reaction to a privatization of state-owned mines and companies. A quick glance reveals certain trends: the workers demand their unpaid wages, minimum wages consistent with inflation, want to preserve fair contracts and benefit packages, and oppose layoffs due to privatization. Sadly, many strikes do not aim at bettering workers salaries and conditions; the workers are essentially struggling to preserve what they already had under previous arrangements. The most high profile of the recent strikes include: the strike of 5000 workers at Bafq Ore Mine against privatization (2014); Haft Tappeh Sugar Cane Factory protest for unpaid wages and benefit packages (June 2014); several strikes at automobile manufacturers, normally on a smaller scale; and continuing periodic strikes of Mahshahr Petrochemical workers (from 2010 to September 2015). Workers’ actions occur almost every day. The diversity of struggles makes it difficult for the Iranian security and judiciary to deploy catch-all measures to repress the workers. As such, the measures taken against workers’ job actions vary greatly from case to case. Nonetheless, union leaders are regularly arrested and charged. A recent publicized case involved the suspicious death, as Amnesty International reports, of Shahrokh Zamani, a former political prisoner and an organizer with the Construction Workers and Painters’ Union, who died of cerebral haemorrhage in September 2015 while serving a five year prison term.¹⁶

 

Ephemeral, ‘guerrilla’ networks such as short-lived mobilizations in support of victims of natural disasters or homeless ‘street children’ (koodakan-e khiabani), as well as those organized by the environmentalists, constitute the second site of activism today. These network-based activists, also under pressure and risking arrest, have intuitively realized that formal organizations may bring about their downfall, and thus have intentionally chosen short-lived, issue-oriented, networking and mobilization via communications platforms (Telegram, an encrypted smartphone app, has 20 million users in Iran). Such activism is best exemplified by the ‘guerrilla operations’ of grassroots activists helping homeless children and other marginalized groups for a short period before disappearing altogether. These activists, demographically young and from student and women’s movements, nevertheless face prosecution if intercepted. They have thus learned to be mobile and nimble, appearing for and fully dedicating themselves to one cause, before eclipsing from the scene while keeping abreast with other causes. They are aware of the political implications of their activism but try to ‘de-politicize’ their involvement by raising awareness about the issue.

Aside from many examples of grassroots, self-organizing, and ephemeral movements in support of the poor or street children, this modality of action is best exemplified by the protests in the industrial city of Arak in 2013 in reaction to the toxic air pollutants released by aging, substandard factories, causing serious health hazards for citizens.¹⁷ There was also the protest, in 2013, against air pollution (lead in particular) by factories in Ahwaz and the pollution of River Karoon. Similar protests also took place in Zanjan. Given Iran’s substandard manufacturing regulations, these protest movements ever so often erupt across the country, sometimes meeting partial success (e.g., by forcing the authorities to shut down polluting factories).¹⁸

 

The most visible environmental protest took place in the context of the ‘drying out’ of Lake Urmiyah, Iran’s largest (salt) lake (shrunken to 7 per cent of its original size). Given that Iran has dried up its underground water sources through excessive use, over-consumed its rivers and lakes, and is undergoing irreversible desertification,¹⁹ Lake Urmiyah became the dual symbol of Iran’s irreversible environmental collapse and state mismanagement of resources. It was the site of several, large-scale grassroots protests in 2011 and 2012, subject of a parliamentary review (to no avail), and provided a rationale for opposing the government’s inept and inconsequential ‘Lake Urmiyah Rehabilitation Taskforce.’ In reaction to the protests, the government continues to arrest, charge, or threaten the activists.²⁰ Repressive measures of the state obscure the protesters’ concerns about the disastrous, long-term ecological consequences. In addition to other dying lakes, Iran’s greatest lake is now relegated to melancholic memory.

 

There is, finally, an emerging and growing trend of the formation of relief and welfare organizations, which constitute the most nebulous form of collective action. These groups emerge and grow by drawing upon a profound sense of citizen responsibility for meaningful change, concurrent with their total disappointment in government’s capability to effect change in the face face of the country’s collapse. These groups are entirely based on citizen initiatives, survive through cohorts of volunteers, are run by dedicated (often unpaid) directors or managers, and funded through donations, cash or kind. If successful, they tend to become (charity-based) NGOs, or in sociological terms, ‘social movement organizations’ (SMOs). These groups remain clearly non-political to the extent that they tend not to engage in influencing policy, not even at the municipal level. Relief work basically allows for collective actors to act totally outside of the political field. As citizen initiatives, these organizations survive only by virtue of intentionally remaining marginal.

 

For about a decade now, in reaction to the cruel and vicious killing of stray dogs in Iranian cities, environmentalists and animal rights activists have taken matters in their own hands, establishing dog and cat shelters across the country. The most exemplary case is Vafa Animal Shelter in Karaj, founded in 2004 by an animal loving woman. Since then, Vafa has grown into a formidable non-profit charity with an international reputation, even able to facilitate adoption of abused pets in North America through its network of expatriate Iranians. But not all animal rights advocacies have produced success stories. Two successive attacks on animal shelters within a week in August 2015 raise suspicion about the nature of these incidents. The first incident involved a machete attack on Haleh Boroumand, manager of Rose Animal Shelter at the outskirts of Varamin, resulting in severe injuries. In the second, a cat shelter near Karaj was torched, resulting in the death of two hundred cats and the shelter’s founder, sixty-year-old Sholeh Raoufi. Authorities have blamed substandard electrical wiring for the fire.²¹

Activists also come together to preserve wildlife through established agencies. The most celebrated case is the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) initiative, Conservation of Asiatic Cheetah Project (CACP). On the verge of extinction, the last few dozens of Asiatic cheetahs now roam the arid Iranian plateau. Iran has collaborated with the UNDP, allowing the Iranian Cheetah Society (est. 2001, a successful NGO) and interested international conservation programmes to participate in cheetah conservation.²² In addition to salaried staff, these programmes are largely peopled by environmentalist volunteers.

 

The late Alberto Melucci observed that social movements often go through periods of ‘latency’ and become visible only in situations of public conflict. He remarks: ‘Latency does not mean inactivity. Rather, the potential for resistance or opposition is sewn into the very fabric of daily life. It is located in the molecular experience of the individuals or groups who practice the alternative meanings of everyday life.’²³ Of course, the transition from latency to visibility seems applicable to our cases, but the theory assumes that there is continuity within a given social movement, or in other words, that the identity of the activists remains constant, regardless of the conflictual politics at hand. The ‘molecular experiences’ of Iranian activists certainly inform the changing patterns of their collective action. But we must be mindful about the security apparatus’ social engineering projects and management of dissent through a careful, and changing alchemy of clinical-precision repression and a redirection of collective action into guild, relief, or non-political activism.

 

The three aforementioned collective action sites indicate the uphill battle that Iran’s grassroots advocates face, even when their cause remains completely outside the political sphere. Yet, these three trajectories capture the sites of activism today. The reader understands that the proposed sites and trajectories are by no means exhaustive. These sites reveal the enormous security pressure imposed on activism as well as the possibility for acting and preserving activism until further notice. The three aforesaid modalities of activism have indeed grown out of rights-based or civil rights movements (epitomized by the Green Movement), but under current conditions, the most visible trends in activism confirm a significant turn away from civil rights orientation or even politically sensitive policy challenges. Given that the greatest civil rights movement in the Middle East before the Arab Spring was suppressed in Iran by 2010, the above trends indicate a major turning point.

State security clearly treats every initiative as suspect and responds accordingly. The angst of small-scale and scattered activisms converging in a large-scale protest movement (as in 2009) clearly troubles the ruling elite. At the same time, my observations show the potential for ‘activist encroachment’ – reminiscent of Asef Bayat’s politics of ‘quiet encroachment’, albeit in a different context than described in his study of the urban poor.²⁴ These conditions not only enable activists ‘intervals for respite’ but also for ‘staying in shape’. My observations, nonetheless, are not meant to suggest that current activism is to be understood as a preparation for another nationwide protest movement. The state’s dissent management and social engineering may succeed in nullifying the element of oppositionality from collective action. Only the future can shed light on the outcomes of today’s ‘quiet encroachment’.

 

If such encroachment is in fact the case, then Melucci’s perceived continuity of activism (through latency and visibility) is not sustainable. Instead, Bayat’s concept of ‘social non-movements’ as the ‘art of presence’ seems more valid. As both a ‘descriptive and prescriptive’ concept, ‘social non-movements’ captures ‘the story of agency in the times of straints ...bypassing the rigid dichotomies of "active"/"passive", "individual"/"collective", or "civil"/"political" resistance.’²⁵ We thus face an analytical problem that the potential for action emanating from these different sites of activism – in terms of their meaningful, democratically oriented impact on the country’s future direction – will depend on the precarious unfolding of complex trajectories in social, economic, and political development in Iran. For any observer of collective action in Iran, this is key: to pay attention to shifting sites and changing modalities of grassroots activism and watch out for ‘nexus movements’ as they seek to co- and cross-articulate the many movements of simmering general protest.

 

* I would like to thank Sara Naderi for her assistance with researching aspects of this paper.

Footnotes:

1. See: Hamid Dabashi, The Arab Spring: The End of Postcolonialism. Zed Books, London, 2012, pp. 119-37; Nader Hashemi and Danny Postel (eds.), The People Reloaded: The Green Movement and the Struggle for Iran’s Future. Melville House, New York, 2010.

2. Peyman Vahabzadeh, ‘Suggestion, Translation, Transposition: Semiotic Reflections on Collective Action in the Middle East and Beyond’, Sociology of Islam 2, 2014, pp. 111-26.

3. David Zlutnick, ‘The Eros Effect and the Arab Uprisings’ (an interview with George Katsiaficas), 22 April 2011. Available at: http://www.counterpunch.org/2011/04/22/the-eros-effect-and-the-arab-uprisings/ (accessed 7 December 2015).

4. Peyman Vahabzadeh, ‘Khizesh-e vaqar’ [‘Dignity’s Uprising’], Shahrvand BC No. 1044, 21 August 2009, pp. 6-7. The online version of the article, re-published on 11 different websites, is available at: http://iranian.com/main/2009/sep-23.html (accessed 26 November 2015). See also Peyman Vahabzadeh, ‘Jonbesh-e bikhoshunat jonbesh-e binefrat’ [‘Nonviolent Movement, Hatred-free Movement’], Shahrvand BC No. 1057 (20 November 2009), pp. 6-7. The online version, also re-published on five different websites, is available at: http://iranian.com/main/2009/nov-24.html (accessed 26 November 2015).

5. John Holloway, ‘Dignity’s Revolt’, in J. Holloway and E. Peláez (eds.), Zapatista! Reinventing Revolution in Mexico. Pluto Press, London, 1998, pp. 159-98.

6. Mojtaba Mahdavi, ‘Islamic Republic of Iran’, Oxford Handbooks Online, 22 November 2015. http://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref:oiso/97801997 39356.001. 0001/acref-9780199739356-e-0231?rskey =AE4TRI&result=204 (accessed 26 November 2015).

7. Mojtaba Mahdavi, ibid.

8. Mohammad Maljoo, ‘Worker Protest in the Age of Ahmadinejad’, MER 6, Winter 2006, p. 241. Available at: http://www.merip.org/mer/mer241/worker-protest-age-ahmadinejad (accessed 28 November 2015).

9. Noteworthy with respect to defending the upholding of the inalienable rights of Iranian citizens to dignity and respect as the highest values of the Green Movement are the last communiqués of Mir Hossein Mousavi, in particular his Communiqué 17 (1 January 2010) and Communiqué 18 (10 June 2010). See ‘Communiqué No. 17 of Mir Hossein Mousavi and the Ways Out of Current Crisis.’ Available at: http://www.kaleme.com/1388/10/11/klm-7047/ (accessed 27 November 2015). See also: ‘Communiqué 18 of Mir Hossein Mousavi and the Charter of Green Movement.’ Available at: http://www.kaleme. com/1389/03/25/klm-22913/ (accessed 27 November 2015).

10. Mohammad Maljoo, op. cit., fn. 8.

11. The full statement (in Persian) is available at: http://kanoonesenfi.blogfa.com/post/207 (accessed 28 November 2015).

12. Online reports available at: http://www.kaleme.com/1394/03/04/klm-216056/?theme=fastandhttp://tnews.ir/news/E06C40295444.html (accessed 28 November 2015).

13. See, Niusha Saremi, ‘Darkhast-e azadi-ye mo’aleman-e zendani’ [‘Demand for the Release of Imprisoned Teachres’], Rooz Online. Available at: http://www.roozonline. com/persian/opinion/opinion-article/article/-fcd6ea7ee5.html (accessed 28 November 2015).

14. Sohrab Behdad and Farhad Nomani, ‘Workers, Peasants, and Peddlers: A Study of Labour Stratification in the Post-Revolutionary Iran’, International Journal of Middle East Studies 34(4), November 2002, pp. 667-690; Haideh Moghissi and Saeed Rahnema, ‘The Working Class and the Islamic State in Iran’, Socialist Register 37, 2001, pp. 197-218; Valentine M. Moghadam, ‘Hidden from History? Women Workers in Modern Iran’, Iranian Studies 33(3/4), Summer-Autumn 2000, pp. 377-401.

15. Mohammad Maljoo, op. cit., fn.8.

16. See, ‘Iran: Death of Trade Unionist Must Trigger Action to Tackle Appalling Prison Conditions.’ Available at: https://www. amnesty.org/en/documents/mde13/2508/2015/en/ (accessed 28 November 2015).

17. See, ‘Farjam-e eterazat-e mohit-e zisti-ye Arak’ [‘Outcomes of Environmental Protests in Arak’], Voice of America. Available at: http://ir.voanews.com/content/arak-environment-protest-9th-/1733933.html (accessed 29 November 2015).

18. ‘Eterazat-e mohit-e zisti shahr beh shahr micharkad’ [‘Environmental Protests Move from City to City’], Shargh-e Parsi. Available at: http://persian.aawsat.com/2013/11/article6785 (accessed 29 November 2015).

19. See, ‘Masraf-e biraviyeh abha-ye zirzamini baray Iran moshkelafrin shod’ [‘Excessive Consumption of Underground Water Resources Spelled Trouble for Iran’], Voice of America. Available at: http://ir.voanews.com/content/article/2626050.html (accessed 29 November 2015).

20. The arrest have taken place as early as 2011. See: ‘Tajamo’e khanevadehha-ye mo’tarezan-e bazdashti daryache Urumiyeh dar Tabriz’ [‘Demonstration of Lake Urmiyah Protest Detainees in Tabriz’], BBC Persian, 5 April 2011. Available at: http://www.bbc. com/persian/iran/2011/04/110405_l10_urmia. shtml (accessed 29 November 2015). For a more recent report on activist arrests see: Massoud Moussavi, ‘Bazdasht-e shomary az fa’alan-e mohit-e zist dar Urumiyeh’ [‘Arrests of Environmental Activists in Urmiyah’], Khodnevis, 11 June 2014. Available at: https://khodnevis.org/article/58208 (accessed 29 November 2015).

21. See, Benjamin Sadr, ‘Hamleh va atashsoozi dar panahgah-e heyvanat-e Iran: ellat chist?’ [‘Attacks and Fire in Animal Shelters in Iran: What’s the Cause?’], Radio Farda. Available at: http://www.radiofarda.com/content/f12-attack-against-animal-shelters-in-tehran-area/27218357.html (accessed 29 November 2015).

22. Iranian Cheetah Society has grown beyond its original vision, assuming the mandate of preserving other endangered species in the country. It is an example of partnership initiative between international bodies and local advocates. See http://www.wildlife.ir/en/ (accessed 29 November 2015).

23. Alberto Melucci, ‘Nomads of the Present’, in J. Keane and P. Mier (eds.), Social Movements and Individual Needs in Contemporary Society. Hutchinson Radius, London, 1989, p. 71. See also Alberto Melucci, Challenging Codes: Collective Action in the Information Age. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge/New York, 1996, p. 130, 144.

24. Asef Bayat, Street Politics: Poor People’s Movement in Iran. Columbia University Press, New York, 1997.

25. Asef Bayat, Life as Politics: How Ordinary People Change the Middle East. Stanford University Press, Stanford, 2010, p. 26.