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The Ostrich Syndrome
Can't afford to hide in the sand

June 5, 2001
The Iranian

When a friend forwarded Ms. Sohrabi's piece ["Where do we start?"] to my attention she was kind enough to include the following warning: "You have been challenged, sir." Always welcoming a challenge -- but seldom liking it -- I proceeded with caution. I opened the forwarded material and read it; line by line, word for word, punctuation mark by punctuation mark. I was relieved that all that had bothered Ms. Sohrabi was that I had made an inappropriate use of the super-charged words "apartheid" and "genocide" in my piece "Article 64", that I did not consider the heroic struggle of the Iranian men and women against discrimination, and that I should have not cheapened the issue of gender-apartheid by alluding to segregated beaches, class rooms, buses, and ski slopes.

So I went looking in my dictionary for the definition of "apartheid." It is an Afrikan word that means "apartness." In the political lexicon of South Africa it meant "systematic segregation of people of color, who are separated from the Whites in all circumstances." The first law on apartheid was put into effect in 1913 and the practice was dismantled with the accession to power by the nationalist party in 1984. Nowhere in this definition is it said that South Africans have an exclusive right to use the word, or that the word cannot be used in other contexts (gender- apartheid) or in reference to other countries (Iran).

Then I looked up the word "genocide." It is defined as a systematic killing of, or a program of action intended to destroy, a whole national or ethnic group. While the term was first applied to the extermination of the Jews in Nazi Germany, nothing in the definition precludes the use of the word in other contexts and in reference to other countries. The definition of the term under the Genocide Convention is even broader and I supplied parts of it near the end in "Article 64". In point of fact, one of the reasons why the United States refused to ratify the convention for such a long time was for the fear that the term "genocide" was defined so broadly that the convention could be construed against the United States for its (mis)treatment of the Native and African Americans.

Could the word apartheid have been used in the American context? To the equal-but-separate doctrine? If your answer is in the affirmative, then you are following what I am saying and you will have no problem with my using the term describing gender-segregation in Iran. Could the word "genocide" apply to situations outside of the Jewish experience with hot ovens, gas showers, and lousy field trips? How about to the machete-wielding Hutus and Tutsis bent on destroying one another? How about to the Turkish massacre of the Armenians? Or the rape or incarceration of the Moslems by the Serbs in the Balkans? Or the killing fields of Cambodia? How about to the destruction of the Bahai temples in Iran? How about to the old sport of Jewhudkoshi (judicide) in Isfahan and Shiraz, and systematic harassment of the Jews and other religious minorities in Iran to the point that their numbers have been dwindling ever-since 1948? Certainly, the meaning of the word "genocide" is broad enough to include Article 64 of the Iranian constiutution and its "unintended" circumstances.

Ms. Sohrabi's objection to the use of "apartheid" and "genocide" reminded me of the politics of cultural relativism that surrounded the discussion in my Law & Development classes on the subject of the removal of parts of a woman's genitalia. In the beginning, some students skirted controversy by seeking refuge in the politically correct phrase "female circumcision." The more sanguine about the practice began to insist on calling it what it was, "genital mutilation." The difference between "circumcision" and "mutilation" to anyone who remembers his or hers is rather obvious. Similarly, while some apologists take solace in calling the systematic segregation of women in the Iranian life as a reflection of the inner-sanctum (andarouni) and outer-sanctum (birouni) social architecture, some may voice their outrage by resorting to such evocative terms as apartheid and segregation.

I will be unfair to Ms. Sohrabi if I did not admit to a thought provoking question that she raised almost in passing: Where to start the process of dismantling gender-segregation and mistreatment of the minorities? The place to begin is at home, because in Iran, as is most everywhere else, society and the order that prevails in it is a direct reflection of what goes on in the family. It is fashionable, as well as apt, to criticize the role of a decrepit, power-hungry, control-freakish, and phallic patriarchy society. But what gets little to no popular attention is the direct role and complicity of the matriarchy in doing patriarchy's bidding when it comes down politically to subjugating the girls from an early age and reinforcing in them the sense of subservience that patriarchy requires in order to survive. Cultural or not, what was once done in the name of the father as a matter of family imperative, now has the sanction of religion as a matter of law.

While I was at it -- looking up words in the Sohrabi Scrabble Challenge -- I also looked up the word "ostrich." The bird is said to be primarily found in Africa but it is also native to the Near East. Just like apartheid. What amuses me even more about the ostrich is that its behavior under adverse conditions has given rise to the proverbial burying of the head in sand. That expression, regardless of its zoological origin, applies to persons who rather delude themselves than to see reality as is. Naturally, with the head in the sand and the only other orifice showing not being the eye, it is easy to confuse Article 64's post date of June 1 with April's Fool Day!

But not everyone was confused. One reaction in particular moved me the most. It came via the e-mail from an Iranian living in the Orient. He wrote: "It was a great pleasure to read your article. Your analysis and profound insight into this delicate and highly important issue reflects your professionalism and mastery in your field." Here is what got me though: "As an Iranian Bahai," he wrote, "I sincerely thank you for your valuable contribution towards education of our fellow countrymen." That he would not make the comment directly to Iranian.com was his choice, but can one blame him if he did not want to be identified as a Bahai by name? And, yes, if the expatriate community has made too big of a deal out of gender-apartheid and religious genocide in Iran, it is because the diaspora, male or female, does not need nor can it afford to hide in the sand.

Author

Guive Mirfendereski is a professorial lecturer in international relations and law and practices law in Massachusetts.

Comment for The Iranian letters section Comment to the writer Guive Mirfendereski