Iranian Incompetence a Source of Hope
Last month, Iran launched more than 300 drones and missiles towards Israel. The attack included 170 drones and 30 cruise missiles, none of which entered Israeli territory. Of the 120 ballistic missiles fired by Iran, about half of them failed on launch or crashed mid-flight. This attack reveals the extent of Iran’s hatred of Israel. Going back to the original maniac ayatollahs who are still in charge of Iran, Israel was publicly vilified as the “Little Satan,” and the USA was depicted as the “Great Satan.”
Barack Obama during his term as president wanted to negotiate a deal with these madmen in spite of the fact that negotiation assumes rationality of the parties negotiating, whereas those in charge of Iran are irrational — i.e., fanatics. Moreover, besides their religious fanaticism, there is endemic backwardness and incompetence at every level. The inherent disorganization of the Iranian mentality continues to be a source of hope that the leaders’ aggressions will not succeed.
When this writer lived in Iran, while the Shah was still in power, American technicians and engineers helping the Iranians build missiles openly mocked the Iranians for their inability to think systematically. A standard joke was that if three Iranians were to install a pipe, the following scenario would occur: Worker #1 would dig the trench; Worker #2 would put the pipe in the trench, and Worker #3 would cover up the trench and the pipe. However, the Americans said that if Iranian Worker #2 were absent, then Worker #1 would dig the trench, and Worker #3 would then fill it up.
Having met some highly competent individual Iranians when I was teaching at Penn State in the USA, I assumed that I would find a society with some entrenched
mores, but even with the dictatorial but pro-Western Shah in charge, I found a society that was bereft of Western/American know-how. After a near-death experience from amoebic dysentery and the chaos of Iran in the 1970s under the Shah, I returned to the USA shaken to my depths and reconsidering all my core beliefs.
Even under the Shah, Iran was anti-Semitic, and it did not have either an embassy or consulate of Israel in its borders. It allowed the maintenance of an Israeli “mission” in Tehran, Iran’s capital city. To apply for a visa to visit Israel, one had to be frisked first by machine gun–carrying guards, and then to go through bank vault–sized doors that allowed access through the four- to five-foot-thick concrete walls. (Obviously, the Israelis felt very safe — ha, ha.)
Furthermore, the disorganization of everyday life surprised and sickened me. Snack bars had only two dishes — cows’ brains and yogurt. Car wrecks from years of accidents along one of the country’s main highways were not removed and brought to junkyards, but piled up as a metal reminder that nobody cared whether you crashed or not. Also, because of the spread of hepatitis, we were required to get a vaccine. The hospital, one of the best in Tehran, admitted me for the shot, and the room was filled with people on dozens of gurneys with their bare tushies in the air, waiting for their shots. On another medical occasion, this writer was scheduled for the removal of a lump on my head. (Many Americans I met had developed various strange lumps or infections that caused pus to run from their ears.) I was awake and seated on the gurney in the hospital surgery room, waiting for the surgeon to arrive. When he came into the room, he looked at my head and said, “It’s not that bad; I think we can skip the surgery.” As an American, the casualness of this decision shocked and disturbed me. It couldn’t happen here!
Living in one of the better neighborhoods — more for foreign residents — of Tehran, we had one of the top supermarkets in the city. The only problem was that there was almost no food on the shelves. Huge frozen thighs of cows were in the freezers (much too large to be wrapped in Saran wrap). When I bought some small items in the department store that occupied the floors above the non-supermarket, the cashier had no change in her cash register. There was nothing to buy and no way to buy it. Yet all customers were welcomed into the store at the entrance by a “host” wearing a tuxedo!
Ten-year-old boys were selling cigarettes and candy bars from movable carts on street corners.
Because of egregiously slow public transportation (double-decker British-style buses), travel in Tehran would sometimes take a couple of hours to go only a few blocks. Impatient drivers would go up onto sidewalks to try to get past the traffic jams, or they would go as much as possible on the side of the street going the other way (which only further added to the congestion).
Further, to make it very clear that I was living under an authoritarian regime, my passport was confiscated, and I had to apply to get it back when I wanted to travel on vacation. Inflation was sky-high, and I had to borrow hundreds of dollars each month in order to simply pay basic bills and buy food. The authoritarian nature was such that on one occasion I had to see a minor government official on a certain matter. During the meeting, he aggressively and with great passion said that I was to “tell your headmaster...!” (I was teaching at a well known private school.) Whatever it was, I replied that I cannot dictate to my headmaster on any matter. He then assumed his most officious posture and said, “You must tell your headmaster what I have told you to tell him!!”
Although it is exceedingly stupid and thoughtless for the Obama regime and now the Biden regime to try to negotiate an accord with the ill intentioned Iranian government, the longstanding backwardness of the country and the fanaticism of the leaders will ultimately assure their failure on the path of terrorism.
Image: Ninara via Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.