It isn't always that the words "Allahu Akbar" sound this sweet to Western
ears.
It's a muggy Friday afternoon and I'm standing curbside right outside Iran's
Permanent Mission to the U.N. in New York City. Preaching in Farsi is a
turbaned Shiite imam named Mohsen Kadivar. Hours earlier, in Tehran, Supreme
Leader Ali Khamenei had delivered a bullying sermon at Tehran University,
warning the opposition that they would be "responsible for bloodshed and
chaos" if they continued to march. Mr. Kadivar's sermon -- punctuated by the
"Allahu Akbars" of 20 or so kneeling worshippers -- is intended as a direct
riposte. "Allahu Akbar" has also become the rallying cry of the demonstrators
in Iran.
Mr. Kadivar, 50, is a well-known quantity in Iran. As a young engineering
student he was arrested by the Shah's police for agitating against the regime.
He later became a seminarian in Qom, where he studied under the increasingly
liberal-leaning Grand Ayatollah Hossein-Ali Montazeri. Like his teacher, who
had once been the Ayatollah Khomeini's designated successor, Mr. Kadivar ran
afoul of the regime. In 1999, he was arrested a second time and jailed for 18
months. He credits Mir Hossein Mousavi -- then a university faculty colleague
of his -- for helping to spring him free. He's now teaching at Duke.
Iranian reformist clergyman Mohsen Kadivar.
Mr. Kadivar's chief claim to fame rests on a three-part work of political
philosophy titled "The Theories of the State in Shiite Jurisprudence." At
heart, it is a devastating theological critique of the Ayatollah Khomeini's
notion of "the rule of the jurist" (Velayat e Faqih), which serves as the
rationale for the near-dictatorial powers enjoyed by the Supreme Leader.
"The principle of Velayat e-Faqih is neither intuitively obvious nor
rationally necessary," Mr. Kadivar wrote. "It is neither a requirement of
religion nor a necessity for denomination. It is neither a part of Shiite
general principles nor a component of detailed observances. It is, by near
consensus of the Shiite Ulama, nothing more than a jurisprudential minor
hypothesis."
Or, as Mr. Kadivar simplified it for me in an interview in the back of his
van, "There are two interpretations of Islam. The aggressive Islam of
Ahmadinejad, or the mercy Islam of Mousavi."
Why is this significant? Take a look at the color Mr. Mousavi's supporters
have chosen for their movement: Green is the color of Islam, meaning the
demonstrators are taking on the regime on its own terms. Part of that
challenge is to Iran's republican pretensions, mocked by voter turnout that
the regime itself admits exceeded 100% in some 50 districts.
Those pretensions were mostly a farce to begin with, given the nature of a
system rigged to produce an "Islamic" result. But they also served as a thin
edge of the wedge, creating the opening through which a theocratic state can
be challenged on theological grounds. In so doing, they exposed what might be
described as the twin paradoxes of the Islamic Revolution.
The first is that any revolution carried out in the name of God is also
susceptible to being challenged in the name of God -- and God has many names.
As with the Communist revolutions of the 20th century, which were ultimately
answerable to the verdict of History in which they placed so much stock, the
ideological foundation of the Islamic Revolution rests with the prevailing
views of a Shiite clerisy. Thanks to people like Mr. Kadivar, those views now
tilt increasingly against the regime: So far, he notes, two of Iran's four
major seminaries have refused to endorse Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's "victory."
The second paradox involves the nature of revolution itself. All political
revolutions involve liberation, at least from whatever came before. But
liberation is not a synonym for liberty and is often antithetical to it. In
1979, Iran was "liberated" from the Shah's oppressive rule, but it did not
gain any measure of liberty. Thirty years on, what the demonstrators in
Tehran's streets seek is to join the liberationist impulses of the regime's
founding with the liberal aspirations of the revolution's children.
Whether they'll succeed will depend partly on their willingness to continue
their protests -- possibly through crippling work stoppages -- but mostly on
the willingness of the regime to enforce its will. Mr. Kadivar is convinced a
large segment of the regime's all-important Revolutionary Guards side with the
demonstrators. But they have their own perquisites to look after, and liberal
revolutionaries are often crippled by their own innate distaste of violence.
Which makes it all the more essential that a regime that has lost its
legitimacy in the eyes of its people not recover it through international
recognition. Mr. Kadivar praises President Obama's "no meddling" stance so
far, but insists the president not recognize Mr. Ahmadinejad's government once
its second term officially begins in August. He shouldn't hold his breath. As
for the green revolutionaries, they will soon find out what consolation, or
strength, they draw from knowing God is on their side, with or without
America.