Presidential election pits Iran at war with itself

Supportes of both Ahmadinejad and Moussavi are out on the streets in Tehran

What you’re seeing is the result of 30 years of pressure and strangling,” said Hossein Rahmati, a 68-year-old carpet seller wearing an old-fashioned 1980s suit to attend the march. “Iran is like a dam about to burst.”

Standing in the cool of a Tehran ­afternoon, his rimmed glasses held on by a cord, Rahmati was surrounded by crowds, some dressed in the green of Mir Hossein Mousavi’s street revolution, others in black with scarves over their faces and mobile phones in hand to capture the occasion.

Across the capital, a few miles to the south, it was a different rallying cry. Batol Mojahedi, 55, a housewife, stood with one hand holding her black hijab, the other a poster of the supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. “My son was martyred in the Iran-Iraq war. I don’t want to lose our Islam. We did not participate in 1979, in the revolution, to have this kind of freedom that Mousavi supporters claim they want.

“We don’t want the freedom they want. Ahmadinejad is a courageous president. There was not any rigging in Friday’s election. What’s happening now is just (being influenced) by foreigners.”

Tehran was a city literally divided on Monday as rival rallies for incumbent president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and his defeated centrist challenger Mousavi took over either end of Vali Asr Avenue, the city’s north-south spine.

In a study in opposites, some districts appeared deserted while traffic was gridlocked elsewhere. The words from both camps were equally stark, each seeing the other as the cause of the greatest tension the Islamic republic has witnessed in 30 years.

Biased TV

State-run television focused on one side of the realities, broadcasting lingering images of fires raging and urging citizens onto the streets to deal with ‘inciters’.

“It’s shocking these louts are responding in this way to our presidential elections,” said an unnamed man interviewed on TV, referring to the Mousavi camp.

In Vali Asr Square, at 4 pm, images were broadcast of a crowd, possibly tens of thousand strong, some cheering their support for Ahmadinejad, others pumping their fists in the air.
“This nation will protect and defend its revolution in any way,” declared Gholam Ali Haddad Adel, a prominent politician and supporter of the president, as leaflets accusing Mousavi of being a vessel for foreign ambitions were distributed.

The Associated Press (one of the foreign news organisations subjected to harsh new restrictions by the Iranian state) reported that the rally had been organised to demand punishment for the mass protests the previous evening by Mousavi supporters. In the first official confirmation, state radio also reported that seven people had been killed at the end of Monday when state militia appeared to open fire on demonstrators bent on breaking into a building.

It was feared this rally of Ahmadinejad supporters would result in further deadly clashes between ordinary Iranians. But violence was avoided, to begin with at least, after the Mousavi campaign rescheduled its mass meeting to a northern district of Tehran and an hour later.

The demonstration was in stark contrast to the pro-government rally; they marched silently, holding roses in memory of those killed the previous night.

As they walked under the summer foliage blanketing Vali Asr Avenue, the only noise was the tramp of feet and cheers that broke out every time a police helicopter whirred over. Some wore black mourning clothes, others had green scarves wrapped guerilla-style around heads. Young men in football shirts and gelled hair mixed with conservative ladies in chadors and wearing designer sunglasses.

Above their heads some held pieces of paper printed with slogans including ‘liars are the enemy of God,’ ‘where is my vote?’ and ‘we wrote Mousavi, they read Ahmadi.’
Next to one of the channels carrying water down from the brown mountains looming over Tehran, a man stood with the reformist ‘Voice of Justice’ newspaper in his hands, showing its front page headline: “The green wave goes to the end.”

Picture frenzy

Next to him another man held a printout of pictures from the internet showing riot police beating women on the ground. He was surrounded by people taking snaps with their mobile phones.

The destination for the marchers was the headquarters of state television which many believe has been strongly biased in favour of Ahmadinejad.

As station employees clustered around the windows of the eight-storey building and behind green railings protected by guards, the protesters again stood silently, their hands held aloft in a victory salute.

“We came down to get our vote back and show that we didn’t vote for this man (Ahmadinejad),” said Yusef, a journalist who would only give his first name. “The best thing out of this election is how it’s made this society come out of its indolence and get more politicised,” said another young man.

By sunset the majority of the crowd had dispersed, although there had been some small fires and a motorcycle set alight. One Twitter user said there had been reports of street fighting in Azadi Square and the surrounding streets, with pepper gas being used by security forces.

As the night went on the user posted: “Our lives are in real danger now — we are the eyes — they need to stop us.” But on the stroke of 10 pm the final ­ritual of the day was performed.
From the rooftops people started shouting ‘Allahu Akbar’ (God is great), just as they have done for the past three nights, and as others did during the 1979 revolution.