WeeklyWorker

06.05.2009

Way forward for the anti-war movement

Yassamine Mather draws lessons from Iran's recent history and calls for a principled anti-war coalition under working class hegemony

In the aftermath of the February 1979 uprising in Iran, we communists denounced those ‘left’ forces - both Stalinists and Trotskyists, but mainly supporters of the Soviet Union - who considered the anti-western slogans of Islamic fundamentalists anti-imperialist. They subsequently defended the Islamic Republic of Iran and even its repression of socialist and communist forces.

One would have thought that the bitter lessons of that revolution and the subsequent arrest of even these apologists for political Islam would teach all such reformists the errors of their ways. It is therefore both ironic and worrying that 30 years later so many organisations in the British and international left maintain illusions in the anti-imperialist potential of Islamic states and movements.

Drawing the lessons from the steady descent of the Islamic movement in Iran from its ‘revolutionary promise’ of 1979 into the neoliberal abyss of corruption and deceit, I would argue that genuine anti-imperialism is inseparable from anti-capitalism and that a radical anti-war movement cannot compromise on this issue. Hands Off the People of Iran has tried to maintain a principled position on this and must continue to campaign around its founding slogans - ‘No to imperialism, no to the Islamic republic’. The recent decision of the Stop the War Coalition rejecting Hopi’s affiliation makes us more determined to campaign against sanctions and the threat of war, but also in defence of workers, students, women and national and religious minorities who are struggling against the Iranian government.

Irrespective of what one thinks of the Comintern’s 1920-21 theorisation of alliances with non-proletarian classes,1 there can be no doubt that in contemporary Middle Eastern politics Stalinism and the Soviet era gave this concept a whole new meaning, paving the way for the conciliatory positions taken by anti-war groups towards political Islam. During the cold war Soviet foreign policy aimed to make new allies and a number of countries led by nationalists or Ba’athists were considered ‘non-capitalist’ or ‘national democratic’ - allies of the ‘socialist camp’. For the Soviet Union the main criterion upon which this was based was the foreign policy of these countries: ie, the extent to which they were distancing themselves from the ‘imperialist camp’. According to this analysis, nationalist and Ba’athist regimes such as Egypt, Iraq and Syria were ‘anti-imperialist’ and had begun to undertake ‘non-capitalist development’.

The interests of the ‘socialist camp’ necessitated compromises and ‘official communist’ parties in such countries were told to support their governments, to accept the hegemony of ‘anti-imperialist’ bourgeois leaders. This often led to disastrous class-collaboration that eroded the support these parties had previously enjoyed. These states maintained the majority of their trade with the capitalist world and their foreign policy often vacillated between the two camps to such an extent that many radical forces critical of Soviet policies labelled such countries as being ‘on the road to capitalist development’.

Of course, as these countries moved temporarily or permanently closer to the US and the imperialist camp, the ‘official communist’ parties faced severe repression and many of their members were arrested and sometimes executed …

The Iranian uprising of February 1979 was a godsend to the supporters of this superficial, ultimately counterrevolutionary, understanding of ‘anti-imperialism’. Some were impressed by the sheer number of participants in the revolutionary movement; others were under the illusion that Shia Islam, as the underdog in the Islamic movement, would provide a voice for the underprivileged masses.

Even before the collapse of the Pahlavi regime, the Soviet Union and its main ally, the ‘official communist’ party of Iran, Tudeh, was advocating a united front with the Islamic movement led by ayatollah Khomeini against the shah’s regime. Worst of all, sections of the Fedayeen were influenced by this line and echoed the Tudeh slogans. The adopted concept of a united front against dictatorship, proposed in the mid-1970s, was a step backwards compared to the Fedayeen view more than 10 years earlier that “struggle with the imperialists - ie, world capital - has some elements of the struggle with capitalism and therefore elements of the socialist revolution”.

Taking up the idea of an anti-imperialist separate strategic stage in alliance with the Islamic movement became the dominant line in Tudeh and the central committee of the Fedayeen. These forces argued that it was premature to call for the struggle of the working class against capitalism, and the anti-imperialist character of the revolution necessitated compromise with the overtly pro-capitalist, anti-worker, misogynist, etc slogans and policies of the clergy. The participation of non-proletarian forces - including the recently urbanised shanty town dwellers, the merchants of the bazaar, dispossessed sections of the ‘national’ bourgeoisie and students of the mosques, alongside worker, student and women activists - made sure the demonstrations against the shah’s pro-western dictatorship were massive. However, this diverse crowd had different grievances and contradictory demands.

Industrialisation and the rural exodus that started in the 1960s in most Middle Eastern countries saw the creation of shanty towns around many cities. The state in these countries was incapable of dealing with this demographic change. Poverty, unemployment, cultural differences and lack of social mobility all played a part in the alienation of shanty town dwellers from the rest of urban society. At the same time, the rate of literacy increased, as sections of the petty bourgeoisie gained access to higher education. Many of the cadres of Islamist parties came from this section, while their rank-and-file support came mainly from the lumpen youth of the shanty towns.

The rise of Islamic fundamentalism in the Middle East coincided with disillusionment with Marxist, secular ideologies as a consequence of the failures of the Stalinist parties. In Egypt, Algeria and Iraq the popularity of fundamentalism was a reaction to the impotence of Arab nationalism and Ba’athism, and in Afghanistan it was a direct consequence of the failure of the Stalinist state. Contrary to popular belief, neo-fundamentalism is not simply a reaction against modernisation, but a by-product of modernisation.

For some sections - the newly urbanised peasantry, the bazaar merchants - the economic downturn of the late 1970s had caused further uncertainty and disenfranchisement. However, led by the clergy, these sections of the population sought solace in the nostalgic slogans of a return to the good old days of ‘Prophet Mohammed’ - simplicity, charity and an uncomplicated life, be it tribal or feudal. Although it was correct to participate in these protests, the reformist Tudeh and Fedayeen Majority constantly encouraged the left to censor its own slogans in favour of ‘maintaining unity’.

Iran’s Islamic movement

In 1979 the Iranian clergy, which had survived the repressive measures of the shah’s dictatorship by compromising with the regime, was in a much better position to benefit from political discontent than secular, socialist groups, which had lost many in their ranks through imprisonment and execution.

Historically, Iranian intellectuals had been responsible for portraying Shia Islam as a ‘progressive force’. This concept, encouraged in the 1950s-80s by Stalinist ideology, is based on the myth that Shia clerics were absent from political power during the rule of various dynasties in Iran, and therefore were part of the movements against absolute monarchs. In fact religious Shia leaders were functionaries of the court (in the Safavid/Qajar dynasties), lived in the court and were part of the establishment and the state. During the Constitutional Revolution, the main aim of the clergy was to stop radical movements and, at best, sections of the clergy sided with constitutional monarchists (eg, ayatollah Behbahani), while the majority of the clergy was mainly concerned with defending feudalism.

During what became known as the ‘tobacco uprising’ most of the Shia clergy ended up in the gardens of the British embassy supporting one colonial power (Britain) against another (Russia). During the oil crisis of 1953 a minority within the Shia clergy originally supported the limited demands of the nationalists - but, as the balance of forces changed in favour of the shah, they suddenly moved back behind him. The role of the clerical leader of the time, ayatollah Kashani, is well documented.

In 1963, at the time of the shah’s White Revolution - a reform from above aimed at transforming Iran into a modern capitalist state - the opposition of the clergy led by Khomeini was completely reactionary. The main planks of his opposition were around two issues: firstly, Khomeini’s objected to the expropriation of feudal landowners on the basis of the sanctity of property in Islam; secondly, he vehemently opposed giving women the right to vote.

One of the principal pillars of Shia ideology is the concept of the ‘return of the 12th imam’, who disappeared 13 centuries ago and will only come back to earth when corruption and injustice have reached unbearable levels. In his absence any government is deemed to be corrupt and unjust. In fact, as many clerical members of the Iranian parliament have repeatedly reminded us over the last few years, any attempt by government, even a religious government, at improving social conditions, reducing corruption, reducing poverty or narrowing the gap between rich and the poor can only delay the arrival of the 12th imam and therefore contradicts Shia theology.

Such ideas are useful when the clergy is in opposition, as they were in the early history of Islam in the 7th and 8th century, but are a serious hindrance when in power. The Shia state is further based on a cult of personality built around its innocent, martyred imams. Again this worked fine as an historic concept, when stories of the bravery of long-dead imams could inspire devotion. But it was more difficult with a living imam (in this case Khomeini) in the last decades of the 20th century, when a minor (or major) indiscretion like the Irangate scandal could tarnish the image of the supreme cleric overnight.

The rule of sharia in a country where the capitalist mode of production and urbanisation are so advanced is doomed to failure. However, the main cause of political Islam’s failure is that, once it takes power, it institutionalises itself and, in the absence of any specifically Islamist economic policy (ie, an alternative to capitalism or socialism), it inevitably becomes another third-world capitalist state, with all the limitations that brings.

Let us remember that the rise of Islamic fundamentalism had a lot to do with the envy of the merchants of the bazaar, who could never match the colossal fortunes gathered by the industrial bourgeoisie around the court and the state under the previous regime. This envy of ‘monopoly’ capital led them to back the clergy, their traditional ideological representatives. Yet, once in power, in order to survive and prosper under an international capitalist order, this bourgeoisie inevitably had to replace the very capitalists it despised. In some cases, where expertise and international capital were necessary, the Islamic state invited the previous capitalists to return. In others they themselves tried to replace the old capitalists.

The very people who had argued against western consumption and accumulation became consumers and accumulators, and indeed, as modernity is irreversible and universal, the bazaar merchants of Iran who were so vehemently anti-western in the late 1970s, have since the late 1990s become pro-western. A reflection of this, which can also be seen in the Hezbollah (supporters of the clergy), is described by Olivier Roy as “theo-fundamentalism with a schizophrenic approach”: a hatred of oneself for wanting western consumption and therefore falling under the influence of western culture. The economics of a capitalist state necessitate a ‘civil society’ and better relations with the west.

Most of the internal battles of the Islamic regime are indeed over this struggle - on the one hand, those who still believe in the rule of sharia and, on the other, those who have decided that the only way to survive is through the establishment of the rule of law in a truly capitalist state.

The current presidential elections are clear manifestation of this conflict - but even as early as 1979, despite all the religious rhetoric, the constitution of the first Islamic Republic was far more law-based than many people have been led to believe, with a role for the parliament, the legislative and executive centres of power in the day-to-day running of the state, and religion in all senses taking very much a secondary role. Many have seen this as a clear reflection of the poverty of Islamic thinking on the issue of political institutions.

Arguments typical of capitalism have been aired in the Iranian parliament, the Majles - the battle between the statist reformers and defenders of the free market being a primary example. It has been argued that until 1989 and the death of Khomeini, those favouring state ownership dominated the Majles, whereas it is quite clear that since 1989 defenders of the free market have had the upper hand.

International politics

Another pillar of sharia deals with the concept of the Islamic ummah or nation. In many countries, including Iran, examples of ruling Islamic forces in conflict with fellow Muslims over land or oil can be seen. Thus the concept of the Islamic nation is no more than a myth, with states fighting for ‘national’ or ‘regional’ interests far more aggressively than they do in defence of the so-called Islamic nation. The eight-year war between Iran and Iraq clearly demonstrated this, with both countries relying heavily on their respective Persian and Arab identities.

Contrary to those who believe that Iran’s foreign policy was third-worldist, one could argue that it was never more than a continuation of the shah’s strategy to become a regional power - the US invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan have certainly helped Iran in this sense. Its real policy has been dominated by its competition with Turkey, Pakistan, Iraq and Saudi Arabia - a competition that has had strong nationalist overtones. In order to become a regional power, Iran pursues a pragmatic rather than Islamist foreign policy, despite all the rhetoric we have heard from its leaders. For example, Iran supported Christian Armenia against Muslim Azerbaijan simply because Turkey backed the latter. Iran has maintained secret contacts and economic relations with Israel,2 partly because it still considers Arab states as enemies.

Of course, Iranian leaders have made a great deal of their support for the deprived Muslims of the world. But in practice their total mistrust of Sunni groups, their current war of words with the Taliban and their battles with al Qa’eda in Iraq have amounted to support for specific splinter groups of the Shia community in Lebanon (under Hezbollah) and a minority of the Shia occupation government in Iraq and Shia Pakistan, many of whom are of Iranian descent.

Echoes of all this exist in Hamas’s promises of social justice. However, the reality remains that for Sunni Islamists, as for Shias, social justice means at best seeking a better deal for small shopkeepers compared to major capitalists, payment of religious dues (khoms and zakat) and abolishing interest rates. Yet we know Islamic banks have found an ingenious way of overcoming this inconvenience - they apply banking ‘service charges’ that just happen to follow international interest rates to the smallest decimal point.

I would argue that the failure of the Iranian left to maintain its independence, and to adhere to basic principles regarding the aim of working class hegemony in alliances, has paved the way for the disaster we call Iran’s Islamic republic - by all accounts one of the most corrupt and repressive capitalist states of the region. If nothing else, the experience of this first Islamic state proves the fallacy of calling such movements anti-imperialist. It proves that, at least in the latter part of the 20th century and in the 21st century, if anti-imperialism has any meaning it must be anti-capitalist. It is precisely this understanding of anti-imperialism that separates us from those who not only seek alliances with non-proletarian classes, but accept self-censorship in their dealings with assorted Islamists - whether in power, as in Iran and Gaza, or in opposition elsewhere.

The anti-imperialist movement in the Islamic world and internationally must see itself as anti-capitalist in its defence not only of the working class, but also of the shanty town dwellers, the urban poor and whatever is left of the peasantry. It must demand better jobs, better housing, job security, an end to child labour ... rather than echoing the retrograde anti-west slogans of the religious right and a return to good old days of Islamic feudalism and tribalism.

Representing the interests of the majority of the population in Islamic countries also necessitates understanding the complexities of urbanisation and rapid modernisation in the Middle East. Such an anti-imperialist movement cannot be misogynist or homophobic; nor can it remain silent on and tolerant of such views when expressed by religious forces.

Anti-war movement

We need to distinguish between two types of alliance. On the one hand, there are those that take shape at a time of imminent war - for example, in February 2003 - when it is a good idea to call for as broad an alliance as possible. However, when, on the other hand, we are talking about a coalition that seeks to oppose war over many years, where the left aims to become the dominant political force, I would argue we need unity around clear political perspectives.

Following from the arguments above, and learning the lessons of the Iranian uprising of 1979, I would argue such a campaign must be both anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist, given that capitalism needs war for its survival in its current crisis. Such a campaign must pay attention to detailed politics and encourage serious political debate, as opposed to relying on simplistic slogans.

Unlike warmongers and imperialists, anti-war campaigners cannot maintain hypocritical double standards. If we condemn torture and waterboarding by CIA agents in Abu Ghraib or Guantanamo, we cannot be silent when labour activists are tortured in Tehran or by Hamas in Gaza. We cannot turn a blind eye to the neoliberal economic realities and the anti-working class politics of the countries under attack. We want an anti-war movement that supports anti-government May Day demonstrations, be they in Tehran, Istanbul or Cairo.

Such an anti-war movement would not be silent about the misogynist rhetoric of Islamic fundamentalists. It would not hold its regular meetings in mosques, which would produce serious objections from, for example, ex-Muslims and women.

Such an anti-war movement would never give a platform to supporters of Afghan warlords such as the anti-communist, misogynist Hekmatyar supporter who is a regular feature of the Stop the War Coalition. Instead it would seek to give accurate information about the history of the regions where war is currently being waged or is threatened, so as to foresee future conflicts and take up a proactive position regarding such events - as opposed to the current situation, where the coalition is often caught tailing its activists, as in the case of the student occupations against the war in Gaza. A radical anti-war movement would be so confident of its theoretical and political positions that it would not need to worry about comments made by this or that member of one of its affiliates at an internal meeting.

Clearly the kind of anti-war movement we envisage is very different from what exists. However, Hopi has never advocated setting up an alternative to the STWC. We have been completely open about our political views and our criticisms of the existing campaign and will continue to put forward the case for our affiliation. Surely we have as much right to be part of the current broad coalition as Liberal Democrat politicians who actually support the presence of British troops in Afghanistan, just as they supported them in Iraq once the war started.

But Hopi activists must be aware of our own strength. We are in a unique position to put forward policies based on informed, principled positions and to intervene on issues regarding Iran, Palestine and Afghanistan on that basis, independently of the STWC. Many of us in Hopi are determined to widen the scope of our anti-war activities and interventions in the coming period, as the peoples of the Middle East continue to confront both imperialism and reactionary political Islam.

Notes

1. See Mike Macnair, ‘Ditch the strategic illusion’ Weekly Worker November 8 2007.

2. From the sale of Jaffa oranges in Tehran in April (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/middle_east/8017823.stm) to oil and gas deals between Iran and Israel (www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&cid=1212659723371).