Fazel Hosseini: You have been involved with the press since the 1960s. What are the differences between the treatment of the press by the Shah’s regime and the Islamic Republic?
Faraj Sarkouhi: As structural changes occurred in society, government institutions became more organized and policies of censorship became more systematic in the 1960s. During this period, the Ministry of Culture was tasked with imposing “official censorship” on books, movies, music, theater, and visual arts, a function that the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance took over after the 1979 Revolution.
The role of “official censorship” in both systems demonstrates, on the one hand, their shared attributes and, on the other hand, their points of divergence, at least in certain areas.
Language and labels have been used by Iran’s pre-revolutionary and post-revolutionary regimes not as a means of expressing truth, but as a way of enveloping it in ambiguity; words are stripped of their power and meaning by demagogues who deceive people in order to maintain their hold on power. Words are viewed by both systems as masks that veil tyranny and justify injustice. Within this context, “censorship” becomes synonymous with “culture” and the Ministry of Culture, which is supposed to elevate and spread culture, becomes a repressive agent, essentially a “murderer of culture.”
Both the Shah’s monarchy and the Islamic Republic are totalitarian regimes, but while the Shah’s rule was a political autocracy, the Islamic Republic is an ideological despotism. Both systems assume a repressive attitude towards cultural products (the press, publications, literature and art) and both have named the institution that imposes censorship on cultural activities the “Ministry of Culture.” Although this common label makes them appear to share the same characteristics, the differences in the two regimes also lie in this very same label.
During the Shah’s era, the government denied the existence of any censorship and pretended to champion the elevation and expansion of culture. The name “Ministry of Culture” betrayed no sign of its chief function, censorship.
By contrast, censorship is not considered such a shameful activity within the Islamic Republic’s totalitarian structure. In fact, the Islamic Republic prides itself on silencing writers, journalists, and artists and regards censorship as the religious duty of nahy az monker (preventing others from doing bad) and amre be maroof (ordering others to do good). The word “Guidance,” which the Islamic Republic has affixed onto the “Ministry of Culture,” reveals the theocratic regime’s desire to subject all cultural activities to its suffocating criteria. The addition of the adjective “Islamic” to the Ministry of Culture also demonstrates that the ruling caste advocates a monolithic culture; non-Islamic cultures must be eliminated because only Islamic culture has the right to exist and be expressed. As a religious obligation, censorship in the Islamic Republic is absolutely legitimate and should be imposed on all aspects of life (not just the political sphere) including personal relationships and values. This system is far more uninhibited and oppressive. In both systems, publication permits for the press and books are the main levers for “official censorship.”
The publication of newspapers and journals in the 1960s and 1970s depended on a “publication permit,” which was issued by the Ministry of Culture after a routine check by SAVAK and the police. This function is now performed by the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance, whose decision to grant a publication permit requires the approval of the judiciary and the Information and Interior Ministries.
Publication permits during the Shah’s reign were only granted to individuals connected to the royal court. In the Islamic Republic, the situation remains the same; only individuals with close ties to various factions in government can obtain publication permits. Both systems have granted permits, in rare cases, to independent individuals for the publication of newspapers or journals. In both systems, opposition forces and dissenting individuals faced a frenzied campaign designed to undermine them.
Also, in both systems, the director of a publication, along with a writer of an offensive article, is held accountable by security and judicial officials. Harsh punishments, such as the closure of offending newspapers, turn the directors of newspapers and journals into invisible arms of censorship, as they fear transgression from the government’s prescribed criteria by their writers and reporters. These vigilant directors muffle the slightest critical gesture within their newspapers and journals to ensure the survival of their publication. The intensity of this censorship depends on the country’s evolving environment.
In both systems, there are a number of obstacles that make the publication of books extremely difficult. Under the Shah’s rule, the first copy of each book had to be reviewed by the Ministry of Culture’s “Examination Office” – a function now performed by the “Censors’ Office” in the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance. The criteria of official censorship of books varied enormously in the two systems. Criteria in the monarchical system were largely political and their main goal was to prevent the publication of political criticism and leftist works. However, the Islamic Republic use a combination of political, moral, religious and even factional criteria in its censorship, controlling all spheres of existence.
During the Shah’s monarchy, the Ministry of Culture’s bureaucrats shelved books that they considered “Marxist propaganda.” Possessing or studying certain books could result in three to 15 years in prison. Nonetheless, policy changes and a sometimes unwitting bureaucracy which suffered gaps and differences within its ranks, allowed many critical works, unpalatable to the system, to be published. Despite its widespread use, censorship was relatively tolerant of literary and artistic works during this period. Although any performance of Shakespeare’s Hamlet was banned for years for its theme of regicide, most works by Bertolt Brecht and other works of world literature were usually not hampered by censorship and were published without much trouble. The censorship machine under the Pahlavi monarchy characteristically focused on leftist works and political issues and avoided interfering with other spheres of life.
The monarchical system did not take culture seriously. In contrast, the current clerical establishment, perhaps due to its own strong cultural identity, is well aware of the impact of culture on the political process. The Islamic Republic is an ideological and monolithic system. The battle to strengthen the culture of the ruling system and eliminate other cultures reveals a central feature of all ideological systems. Not only have the Islamic Republic’s policymakers tried to impose Islamic culture on schools, universities, literature, and the press in an outright effort to produce a monolithic culture, they have also rallied their power in order to stamp out other voices and cultures.
The Islamic Republic bolstered the mechanisms of official censorship and self-censorship that were prevalent in the Shah’s time and, exploiting the models used by North Korea, China, and the former Eastern Bloc, developed new practices and methods of censorship.
The publication of most theoretical and non-political Marxist texts, except for those that criticized religion, became possible in Iran after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the defeat of leftist forces in Iran. Yet, with official censorship, the Islamic Republic ruthlessly suppressed the system’s critics by imposing its dogma on all aspects of human relationships in society. Thus, moral, religious, and value-based censorship assailed art and literature, going as far as to censor works not only for their content but also for their style.
Nevertheless, official censorship in the Islamic Republic has lost its effectiveness thanks to the communications revolution and globalization. Internet, satellite radio and television programs, and other technological achievements have decisively blunted the instrument of official censorship. Frustrated by its failed efforts, the Islamic Republic is trying to intensify self-censorship by creating an atmosphere of terror among journalists, writers, artists, and other thinkers. The high rate of arrests, torture, and murder of journalists and writers and the violent repression of the media in Iran are clear indicators of this policy.
What connections do you see between the censorship of others (of the media, for example) and self-censorship? In other words, what is the relationship between the politics of censorship and the culture of censorship?
Official censorship stems from the state’s policies and dominant culture and is imposed on texts, works, writers and artists from outside by an external force.
The case of self-censorship is different. It may arise from fear, it may proceed from discretion, it may result from the taboos that the dominant culture and its value-system promote, or it may be a combination of all three. In each of these instances, self-censorship manifests itself as an internalized phenomenon that is not directly imposed by an external authority.
Official censorship in the realms of art and literature can destroy parts of a work or prevent the free circulation of news and information or the untrammeled expression of dissenting opinions. But official censorship has been steadily retreating in the face of change brought about by the communications revolution and globalization. These changes will eventually eliminate the censorship of literary and artistic works as every viewpoint or news item will find its way to its intended address.
Self-censorship, however, has caused irreparable damage by subtly stifling artistic and literary creativity. Self-censored works as well as emotions and opinions that are not expressed or written due to self-censorship will forever disappear into oblivion.
Self-censorship burrows into the characters of journalists and artists and infects its victims with crippling schizophrenia. When self-censorship stems from fear and terror, it brings with it a crushing wave of self-destruction and self-reproach, which can turn into self-loathing. Self-censorship that has its roots in expedience and pragmatism transforms the intellectual into a narrow-minded entrepreneur. Self-censorship which springs from culture and its taboos prevents society from examining its culture and history from a critical perspective and, without a dynamic assessment of culture and history, society will remain frozen in its past. Censorship and self-censorship are firmly integrated into Iranian culture. Not surprising, even movements and institutions which have emerged as the defenders of freedom and democracy in Iran in the last 100 years have not hesitated to censor internal and external critics or impose self-censorship on associates or followers.
In the monarchical system, SAVAK was tasked with coercing the regime’s political critics into self-censorship. Another kind of self-censorship, which stemmed from society’s collective identity, value-system, morality, culture, and religion, was perpetuated by clerics. SAVAK forced journalists into self-censorship by threatening, isolating, or imprisoning them or dismissing them from their jobs. In the Islamic Republic, this function is undertaken by the Ministry of Information, the Revolutionary Courts, the Intelligence Office of the Revolutionary Guard Corps and other security institutions which are far more violent and sinister than SAVAK in murdering, torturing, and compelling critics into forced televised confessions and recantations.
One of the main objectives of this harsh treatment of regime critics is to spread an atmosphere of terror and intimidation. Pressuring critics to emigrate or seek exile has also escalated in the last few years. The spread of rumors about the private lives of individuals is another common strategy which aims to reinforce self-censorship.
Self-censorship stemming from society’s dominant culture during the Shah’s time was restricted to the religious and state spheres. Society would not tolerate any criticism of the official religion or even nationalism. An organized and powerful clerical institution curbed any criticism of religion in the press or books with various methods, which ranged from influencing the monarchical court and security institutions, such as SAVAK and the police force, to provoking the masses. The clerical institution sometimes even went as far as to murder individuals who criticized religion, such as Ahmad Kasravi. Some religious minorities, such as Baha’is, were also deprived of the right to publish any journals or newspapers. The monarchy and the government, either because of their religious beliefs or demagogic proclivity or fear of the clergy’s and people’s reaction, tended to go along with the clerical institution’s zeal to crush all critics of religion.
Under the hegemony of the Islamic Republic, self-censorship resulting from national and religious culture and society’s dominant value-system acquired unprecedented leverage through the broad support by governmental institutions as the regime extended its control to moral arenas, human relationships, and the private lives of individuals.
Self-censorship in the Islamic Republic is far more severe and far-reaching than the self-censorship experienced under the Shah or other kinds of dictatorships. Under the aegis of the Islamic Republic, imprisonment, torture, and murder of journalists, writers, and artists became recurring incidents. By provoking street demonstrations, employing powerful pressure groups in the judiciary and security institutions, spreading rumors about the private affairs of individuals, accusing all opposing views of heresy, and assaulting journalists, writers, and artists, various governmental, semi-governmental and non-governmental institutions, particularly the powerful institutions connected to the clergy, have allowed an unparalleled level of self-censorship to flourish in Iranian society.
Please tell us about your experiences in Adineh. How did you start and why did you choose not to continue your work outside Iran?
Adineh was a new experience that responded to new needs which surfaced in our society after 1981. Adineh was one of the few significant literary and society magazines that reached a circulation close to popular magazines. It also gradually turned into a forum for independent thinkers as a generation grew with it. Apart from Adineh, few other magazines were able to attract thinkers who are independent from the government.
Living outside Iran, I write articles for German-language publications and, sometimes, for Farsi-language websites. I have published a few stories in German. If you mean why I have not published any new magazines or worked as an editor-in-chief outside Iran, that is another matter. A professional project requires professional personnel, sufficient readership, and financial means – both start-up capital until it reaches self-sufficiency and then regular revenues after that. I have yet to see a serious readership – particularly where my interests lie, in the realm of culture, art, literature, and other theoretical issues – among Iranian expatriates which could support a journal on these issues. In addition, I do not think that I am capable of gathering of this initial start-up capital.
What do you think is the solution to the existing crisis? As a writer and journalist, what solution do you suggest for ending the dreadful condition of magazines and newspapers in Iran?
Over time, illiteracy, a devaluing of cultural issues, censorship, reliance on government subsidies for art or culture, lack of professionalism, and outdated business practices have turned the prolonged crisis of publication in Iran into a deep-seeded malady. A publishing and press industry which relies on government subsidies for survival is like a terminal patient who is kept alive by artificial means.
The freedom of producers of culture to express themselves to their audience, the presence of a diversity of writers, artists, thinkers, and journalists in the mass media and in education centers, open gatherings of writers to read fiction and poetry, and the publication of open debates in the press would broaden the reach of cultural issues. These factors would spark interest in readers, increase the circulation of journals, and increase revenues for publishers. Only in this way can we overcome the present crisis. I cannot fully discuss these problems here because a “cultural transformation” of people and society is too vast and complex an issue for this interview. But free communication between producers of culture and their audience depends on freedom of expression and freedom of assembly for all citizens, which is, of course, not possible in a totalitarian system. I should add that totalitarianism is not the only factor responsible for the current crisis of culture and the press, although it certainly influences them. The publishing industry can liberate itself from this crisis only through cultural progress. But cultural progress presupposes many factors, including serious critique of identity, history, and culture, which can only be achieved through continuous struggle.
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