Iran’s aggrieved entitlement

Sousan Abadian, a scholar with advanced degrees from Harvard, contributed this post. She has served as a Fellow at MIT’s Dalai Lama Center for Ethics and Transformative Values as well as the Center for Public Leadership at Harvard’s Kennedy School. Her academic research on healing collective trauma has been described as “pioneering” and “highly original” by Nobel laureate in economics Amartya Sen. She now guides people and organizations to step free of restrictive narratives and go beyond known thresholds in order to create transformation. She has been awarded a Franklin Fellowship at the US Department of State.

I’m a student of post-conflict restoration, of how communities not only survive trauma but also learn to thrive by adapting and gaining resilience. I was born in Iran but naturalized in the US. Forays into Vietnam and Laos have given me perspective on my Iranian origins.

How did the Laotians and Vietnamese react when they found out I was American? Gracious and unimpressed. The war has been over now for over thirty years. The Vietnamese have succeeded in unifying their country and winning their independence. Laos welcomed President Obama just this month.

Both Vietnam and Laos are not only at peace but profoundly peaceful. As a researcher concerned with collective trauma, I wondered how that had been achieved. For example, there is a surprising absence of road rage given the horrendous crowds and unbelievable traffic in Hanoi. I witnessed the aftermath of an accident involving two motorcycles. A large crowd had gathered around the two riders, who were calmly discussing the incident. I had never seen anything like it.

At the crack of dawn in Hanoi, a large group of elderly do Tai Chi by Hoàn Kiếm Lake and play badminton, laughing and puffing with exertion. Just outside Luang Prabang in Laos, the ancient city of a thousand temples, children stand by the side of the road with buckets of water, splashing passersby and laughing hysterically. Life is about equilibrium and joy.

I could not help but contrast my experience of Iran with Laos and Vietnam. Iranian children, and adults for that matter, are full of mirth and fun. But there is also an intangible heaviness, as though joy must be kept under wraps — like its women, hidden away under black — and squashed under the weight of self-denial, austerity, and even perpetual mourning. Many Vietnamese and Laotians I encountered were by contrast engaged in play, contemplation, or busy moving ahead in life. They appear to ruminate little and refrain from stirring up muck from the past.

Why is it that after all these years, the Iranian government, or at least the Islamist hardliners, continue to express resentment and foment rage at America, their ‘Great Satan,’ while the Laotians and Vietnamese had seemingly let go of their bitter grievances, moving graciously on towards the future? Iran has arguably experienced a fraction of what Laotians experienced (and continue to experience) at the hands of the American government. Laos experienced the most bombings per capita in history. From 1964 to 1973, the US dropped the equivalent of a planeload of bombs every 8 minutes, 24-hours a day, for 9 years. American unexploded ordnance continues to maim and kill innocent Laotian children and adults to this day in an estimated one-third of the country.

What allows Vietnam and Laos to move forward with the US despite legitimate grievances? What prevents Iran from doing so?

First, Vietnam emerged victorious at the end of its battles with the US. Despite immense hardship and sacrifice, Vietnam succeeded in unifying and freeing its country from domination.

But then, so did the Iranian revolutionaries, hadn’t they?

Second, America was not the first, the last, or even the worst adversary that Vietnam and Laos faced. The American War, as they call it, had been one in a long line of wars spanning at least a thousand years, first with the Chinese and then with the French. Following the American war, Vietnam fought both Cambodia and China.

But then, the same could be said for the Iranians: Iran experienced far worse at the hands of the British and Russian hegemonic powers, even occupation, than it ever did at the hands of Americans. In fact, the US had been a hero in the minds of Iranians following World War II because it insisted that Britain and the Soviet Union honor Iranian territorial sovereignty.

The third and last characteristic is what I have come to believe is the significant distinction: Vietnam and Laos are Buddhist-influenced. Iran is not.

People respond differently to trauma depending on the individual and collective narratives they are steeped in and habituated to. Narrative interpretations shape how people respond to traumatic experiences. They channel thinking and behavior in particular directions.

Some religious interpretations are toxic post-traumatic narratives that encourage retaliation. Other religious interpretations emphasize healing and reconciliation. Mainstream Buddhism, for example, instills self-responsibility: we are meant to master our emotions, not have them master us. We are responsible for clearing and moving through our emotions, not burden others with acting out our pain.

The prevailing Iranian interpretation of Shi’a Islam teaches “aggrieved entitlement,” a term coined by Michael Kimmel to describe a wholly different context. Don’t get me wrong: this is NOT about Islam or Shi’a Islam per se. There are many Shi’a who practice their faith in ways informed by more generative interpretations of Islam. Sri Lanka amply demonstrates that even Buddhist narratives can be skewed toward violence as a result of trauma.

The US has certainly contributed to traumatization worldwide, but the impact depends in part on the political and religious contexts in the countries where it has intervened. The local leaders share responsibility for the impact. Are they emphasizing narrative interpretations that move traumatized people in the direction of restoration and resilience? Or are their narrative interpretations destined to hold their communities back, setting them up for cycles of renewed violence, increased trauma, and diminished economic performance?