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| Sadegh Zibakalam |
The recent interview of AzerQalam site with Sadegh Zibakalam contains noteworthy points that shed light on the so-called Iranian "tolerant" political style in relation to non-Persian ethnicities. Although the interview repeats views expressed by other Iranian politicians and intellectuals, it gains significance because it comes from someone who, in the past, had a more realistic approach than others on this issue. Others from various factions of the Iranian government also present Azerbaijan in the context of the bravery and patriotism of figures like Sattar Khan, Bagher Khan, the sacrifices of the Azerbaijani people during the Iran-Iraq war, the 1979 revolution, and similar examples. However, considering Zibakalam's past interactions with the issue and his position in the modern theoretical discourse of the Islamic Republic of Iran, his words hold value as they help clarify the intellectual and practical approach of the most prominent political elites in Iran. This can then be used to evaluate the legitimacy of Azerbaijan’s indifference to Iranian politics. When Sadegh Zibakalam speaks this way, he is essentially clarifying things for those who still see a glimmer of transformation, seemingly emerging among some Iranian Persian-centric intellectuals.
To better understand the difference in viewpoints between this and his interview less than three years ago with Sobh Azadi magazine, one must reflect on both interviews. By comparing them, it becomes clearer how seemingly attractive slogans may actually be hollow behind the scenes.
To better grasp the differences in viewpoints between these two interviews, it is important to note that in the earlier interview, Zibakalam was in opposition to the government, but now, while he does not hold an official government position, the ruling government is composed of his like-minded peers, some of whom act even more radically than he does. A clue to this can be found in the interviewer’s remark that Zibakalam is "not just known for his name, but more for some of his blunt and strange statements, which attract the attention of all political groups, whether conservatives, reformists, or political activists. Zibakalam's rhetoric leans more toward reformism, with a preference for Hashemi Rafsanjani's supporters!" ...and who doesn’t know that the Rouhani government is a direct copy of the Rafsanjani and Khatami reformist governments, which means Zibakalam himself is now in a position where he views matters not as a critic but as a policymaker.
Pan-Turkism and its Symbols
The essence of Sadegh Zibakalam’s remarks in the recent interview is his dissatisfaction with the nationalistic sentiments among the Turks, which he describes as "the story of Pan-Turkism and nationalistic feelings."
He explains that "in the 1970s, a phenomenon was born whose effects, origins, and factors need more study and analysis." He describes this phenomenon as follows:
"After I returned to Iran in 1991, I rarely saw posters or signs named Turkish or Azeri on university campuses. But now, in Tehran itself, you can see large advertisements outside the Faculty of Law that say, 'Ashiqlar Music Concert' or 'Azerbaijani Music' will be held tonight at the university dorms! This is not only noticeable in Tehran but in various cities across Iran as well. In any case, this is clearly a symbol of Azerbaijani and Turkish identity."
He continues:
"When I hear about Pan-Turkism and nationalist sentiments from the intellectuals and political activists in Tabriz late at night, around the pool of El-Goli, it carries a message. The message is that a problem has arisen. A problem that is now emerging in the form of nationalism. Intellectuals express these feelings in that form, while the younger generation and more fanatic supporters express them in other forms, such as through passionate support for Tractor Sazi! Some also express them through poetry nights and Ashiq music performances."
When the interviewer asks him to respond to these demands, Zibakalam says:
"My response is somewhat like a bucket of cold water poured over all the emotions and fervor of Pan-Turkism. From Ashiq music and Turkish poetry nights to enthusiastic support for Tractor Sazi, to symbols like the Babak Castle and other Pan-Turkism and Azeri nationalism symbols."
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| The stadium and the matches of Tractor Sazi Azerbaijan are one of the spaces where Turkic civil activists in Azerbaijan use for resistance against the policy of denial and assimilation. |
If the reader has not seen Zibakalam's remarks from three years ago, they might not find much significance in these comments. However, the issue is that, in his interview three years ago, Zibakalam criticized Reza Shah for sending "his harshest military commanders to Azerbaijan to implement a cultural homogenization policy so that nothing like Azeri, Kurdish, or Luri identities would remain, and only Persian would exist." This has been the official policy of Iranian governments since Reza Shah's time, and the Islamic Republic has followed it even more rigorously and continues to do so.
If Zibakalam considers Reza Shah's cultural homogenization policy to be wrong, as implied by the quote above, then why does he consider the invitation of students to a Turkish poetry night to be a sign that a problem has arisen? Does this not suggest that, because the cultural homogenization policy has not been fully successful, Zibakalam now feels compelled to pour "cold water" on "all the emotions and fervor of Pan-Turkism, from Ashiq music and Turkish poetry nights to passionate support for Tractor Sazi, Babak Castle, and other symbols of Pan-Turkism and Azeri nationalism"?
Zibakalam, who previously expressed dissatisfaction with cultural homogenization, now seems to have no problem with it. In fact, he even appears to be concerned not about the cultural homogenization policy, but about the explanations given by "intellectuals and political activists in Tabriz," which he interprets as suggesting a problem:
"To say that we should not talk about Pan-Turkism or Kurdish nationalism because doing so will popularize them and lose the stigma of the issue is not a very scientific way of solving political and social issues, including the issue of nationalism. After all, if we have a problem, we must face it, and constantly saying 'shush, shush' does not make the issue disappear. If we suppress it, it will only become more radical and underground. It will not go away."
From this quote, it becomes clear that Zibakalam does not doubt the "problem" of Turkish poetry nights, but his concern is that other solutions proposed by intellectuals, which he considers to be much weaker than the reality of society, will not resolve the issue. He expresses that suppression will only make the issue more radical and underground.
Now, let's see what this "magic cold water" is that Zibakalam believes will extinguish the emotions of Pan-Turkism. In the same interview with AzerQalam, he says:
"The lost thing for all Azeri-speaking friends, for the people of Mahabad, Ahvazis, and Baluchis, is the same. The lost thing for all these ethnicities and cultures is the same as the lost thing for the people of Tehran, Rasht, Shiraz, Isfahan, and Kerman. The lost thing for all of us is 'democracy.'"
Here, it becomes clear that, according to Zibakalam, since suppression is not the solution, the promise of democracy is what will extinguish the emotions of Pan-Turkism symbolized by Turkish poetry nights and Ashiq music. If we had forgotten his past statement that the majority of Iranians are unfortunately racist, we might have trusted Zibakalam's belief in the beneficial results of this magic cold water. However, knowing that the majority's racist attitudes toward the national rights of non-Persians do not inspire confidence, we do not find his proposed cold water to be a viable solution either.
The term "racist" used by Zibakalam himself comes from his interview with the bi-weekly Sobh Azadi:
"We Iranians are racist because of our low cultural level, as racism is directly related to a low cultural level." He defines the examples of this racism as follows:
"I do admit that many of us Iranians are unfortunately racist. If you pay attention, you will see that in other cultures, jokes are made about ethnicities, nationalities, and minority groups, but I don't think there is any country like Iran where so much abuse is directed at Turks and Lurs. It’s true that jokes are harmless and mostly for amusement, but remember that within these jokes, a bitter element of racism is embedded. In fact, behind them, there is a negative view of Turks, Gilanis, and Lurs."
Apart from the issue of the majority being racist, Zibakalam's recent interview with AzerQalam also paints a different picture of democracy:
"If there is democracy, the city councils in Mahabad, Tabriz, and Ahvaz will comply with the will of the people." And in response to a question about the right to learn one's mother tongue, he says: "Yes. Even if it's just teaching the mother tongue. The council will approve it, and we'll have two primary schools, one in the mother tongue and the other in Persian."
He further defines how this approval would take place:
"I believe in real democracy. If more than half of the people in Azerbaijan believe that their children should go to Azeri language schools, they should have this right. However, the remaining 49% should also have the right to send their children to Persian language schools."
According to Zibakalam's argument, it is not necessary to have a majority of more than half for attending Persian language schools, but if the people of Azerbaijan believe that their children should go to Azeri language schools, more than half must be in favor.
This, of course, does not address the issue of where this Azeri language taught in schools will be used. There is no mention of a language that could be used in official settings or daily life and politics. There is no talk of autonomy or independence. The discussion is only about Azeri language schools, but only if more than half of the people in Azerbaijan believe so. Since we know that this "Azeri" language, which is essentially Persian with some Turkish verbs, is not useful inside the country nor is there such a language outside Iran, we can reach Zibakalam's own words, where he reminds those intellectuals worried about the expansion of the issue: "If you establish two institutions on a street in Tabriz, one teaching Azerbaijani Turkish and the other Persian, I think many parents will register their children in the Persian language school because they see the future of their children in the language that is better for their future, not in their native language."
Less than three years ago, Zibakalam said different things: "When did I say democracy means the rule of the majority? In fact, one of the greatest concerns of democratic theorists is how to protect the rights of minorities from the majority in democratic systems," or he said:
"First, we need to clarify whether a minority has the right to be independent if it does not want to live with the majority. I believe no group should be kept by force, because in the end, they will separate. If in a completely free referendum, more than half of Azeris say they do not want to be part of Iran, they cannot be kept by force."
In that interview, although he was hopeful: "In real democracy, a Turk gets his rights. For example, they will be taught in their mother tongue, part of Azerbaijan’s income and taxes will be spent in Azerbaijan, a local council will be formed, and specific decisions for Azerbaijan will be made in the same council. In such a situation, no Azerbaijani will seek independence," and he even compared it to the French in the Quebec province of Canada. However, today, not only does he not talk about the right to secession, nor the recognition of multiple official languages like in Canada, but he even sees Turkish poetry nights and Ashiq music as problematic, labeling them as symbols of Pan-Turkism.
What a profound transformation and extraordinary tolerance!
Political and Non-Political Tabriz
Along with the "cold water" Zibakalam promises to pour over the emotions of Pan-Turkism and Azerbaijani nationalism, he also speaks of his expectations from political movements in Azerbaijan in terms of "political Tabriz" and "non-political Tabriz."
In his recent interview, he says:
"I feel that Tabriz has become less political compared to the years before the revolution and even during the revolution." Without defining the original and substantial terms, he says:
"Many of the old, genuine people of Tabriz have moved to Tehran. Part of the reason why Tabriz is less political than before is due to this migration and social changes."
He claims, "Although I do not have a top-down, 'rural' versus 'urban' view, I can confidently say that much of the current population of Tabriz is not interested in political matters like the people were in the past." He compares this to other Persian-speaking regions where, he suggests, the population has remained more urban: "In Rasht, Mashhad, Isfahan, or Kerman, this phenomenon has occurred less."
To understand Zibakalam’s definition of political and non-political Tabriz, we must look at the examples he uses:
"For me, Tabriz and Azerbaijan mean Sattar Khan, Bagher Khan, Sheikh Mohammad Khiyabani, Thiqah al-Islam, Karbala’i Missio, it means the Constitutional Revolution, it means the February 29, 1956 uprising, it means suffering from hunger and not surrendering to the cruelty of despotism!"
From Zibakalam’s perspective, movements in Tabriz are considered political only when they align with the central government’s political trajectory, otherwise, they are not political:
"In the 29th February uprising, long before Esfahan, Tehran, Shiraz, and Mashhad experienced any serious movements, Tabriz shook the foundation of the Pahlavi monarchy within 24 hours. For me, Tabriz means the people who took the city. After the Islamic Revolution, Tabriz has always been at the center of every event, whether during the defense of the country, reconstruction, or even reform."
Since the Azerbaijani government in 1324 and 1325 (1945–46) did not serve the central government's policy, it is not considered political by Zibakalam:
"For me, Tabriz is not Preceding, not Dr. Salamullah Javid, not Sadegh Padegan, nor Gholam Yahya, nor the Democratic Party. For me, Tabriz is the Constitutional Revolution and always has been."
According to Zibakalam, current movements in Tabriz, including the demand for the official recognition of the Turkish language, the solidarity movement to save Lake Urmia, condemning the Islamic government’s support for the occupation of Karabakh, and the general national enthusiasm to defend the national rights of Turks and the interests of Azerbaijan, as well as political initiatives through Babak Castle and sports stadiums, are not political. Instead:
"Tabriz, in terms of its political position and role in national and global political equations, has declined in recent years. Most of the political activists from this city have left, either to Tehran, other cities, or abroad. It has been replaced by people from surrounding areas and rural populations who lack a clear political stance or perspective."
For Zibakalam, Tabriz's movements are considered political when they align with the central government's power and help preserve its integrity. However, when movements reflect the interests of Azerbaijan and its Turkish population, they are simply seen as Pan-Turkism and nationalist sentiment. He clearly shows that if the people of Tabriz in the war period sacrifice themselves as a shield for the Islamic government, they are considered urban and political. But when they distance themselves from past illusions and play their own political tune, they are seen as rural and non-political.
In Zibakalam's view, when the people of Azerbaijan, specifically Tabriz, grow tired of the cacophonous tunes coming from the center and begin to play a different one for their own interests, they are not only considered non-political but also shown to be from "outside" Tabriz, lacking a clear political stance. This contrasts with the people of Rasht, Kerman, and Isfahan, who align their movements with the central political system and are therefore considered urban and political.
In this context, I wonder how those political activists from Tabriz, who once served to strengthen the central government and have now left the city, feel about their urban migration—whether they feel proud of it, or whether, deep down, they feel ashamed of contributing to the destruction of their national identity and the very essence of their ancestral land.
Original Text in Farsi