Politics – This Week @ MIIS

What Makes a Hoosier?

Kelley Calvert FEATURE ARTICLES, MIIS Update, Politics April 3, 2015

by Kelley Calvert
– USA –

Hoosiers are a proud lot even if we cannot always explain where the term came from. Most people lose interest anyway, right after asking, “Where exactly is Indiana again?” They do not know that to be a Hoosier goes beyond geographical lines and penetrates the heart.

A restaurant in Indiana displays an anti-SB101 sign. Photo courtesy of Marynka Wilkerson Burns.

Being from Indiana means remembering when Bobby Knight threw a folding chair across the basketball court. It means knowing the song of crickets on a summer night like an Akashic record playing to the soul. It means refusing to eat corn on the cob anywhere else because of the certain disappointment. It means having a Larry Bird autographed basketball in your bedroom growing up. It means loving Mass Ave and quoting Kurt Vonnegut. It means a marching band of changing seasons swirling with the procession of the equinoxes.

And now it means SB101, Indiana’s Religious Freedom Restoration Act or RFRA.

Until last week, I felt no tension between two major aspects of my identity: being from Indiana and being gay. I came out in Indiana and generally enjoyed the support of family and friends. Over the years, I have told friends not in-the-know that Indianapolis is one of the country’s best-kept secrets, an up-and-coming gem. Over the years, I have also grown up, gotten married, and been blessed with the miracle of parenthood. Last year, my wife and I welcomed our daughter into the world after grappling with the many struggles of choosing to bring life into an imperfect, sometimes hostile world. One of my greatest fears is that someone would treat my daughter differently, or less than kindly, because she has two moms.

And last week, Indiana, my home state, legislated this fear into reality.

On March 26, 2015, the Indiana Senate approved SB 101, the “religious freedom” bill by a vote of 40-10. Governor Mike Pence signed the approved bill into law three days later. Supporters of the legislation argue that it will prevent the government from “substantially burdening” business owners’ freedom of religion without a “compelling interest.” Ultimately, however, the goal of the legislation was to allow business owners the right to deny service to the LGBT community. In 2014, Arizona’s Republican governor Jan Brewer vetoed a similar law, SB 1062, saying, “Religious liberty is a core American and Arizona value. So is non-discrimination.”

Indiana governor Mike Pence initially sidestepped the question of whether or not the law discriminates against gays and lesbians. Tellingly, the signing ceremony took placed behind closed doors with several anti-gay activists and lobbyists in attendance: Micah Clark, the head of the American Family Association of Indiana, who once told reporters that it would be better to be drowned than to allow youths to be gay, a “treatable, changeable” sickness; Curt Smith, who has publicly equated being gay to bestiality and adultery and who also helped write the bill; and Eric Miller, who designed a fear campaign to convince the public that pastors could be jailed if they preached against gays. Pence himself has publicly promoted gay conversion therapy and expressed antiquated views; in 2009, he opposed the Matthew Shepard Hate Crimes Prevention Act, falsely claiming that “individual pastors … could be charged or be subject to intimidation for simply expressing a Biblical worldview on the issue of homosexual behavior.”

Deflecting guilt for SB 101, on March 29, Pence told ABC’s George Stephanopoulos, “The question here is if there is a government action or a law that an individual believes impinges on their religious liberty, they have the opportunity to go to court, just as the Religious Freedom and Reformation Act that Bill Clinton signed allowed them.” Advocates of the bill assert that it mirrors the RFRA introduced by Bill Clinton in 1993, implying that since it was a liberal who put it into place, liberals should accept it. However, the contexts of 1993 and 2015 are radically different. The 1993 bill intended to address relatively uncontroversial concerns like allowing Muslim jail inmates to wear beards or permitting churches to feed homeless people in public parks. Indiana’s 2015 law has an altogether different purpose: combating the rise of LGBT rights.

More than “religious freedom,” this bill is about power. When the state’s same-sex marriage ban was ruled unconstitutional in June 2014, the state’s attorney general issued an emergency stay on same-sex marriages. By refusing to hear the appeal, the Supreme Court effectively upheld the lower court’s decision, legalizing gay marriage in October 2014. In response, Indiana legislators sprang into action to slow the tide of history with a bill intended to rob gays and lesbians of their dignity, of their hard-won civil rights victories in recent years.

Unfortunately, this legislation will harm working class people who hold jobs at places like Angie’s List and Salesforce, both major employers in Indianapolis who last week dismissed plans for future expansion due to SB 101. On March 26 Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff wrote from his Twitter account, “Today we are canceling all programs that require our customers/employees to travel to Indiana to face discrimination.” Major conventions like Gen Con have also threatened to take their business elsewhere. Meanwhile, athletic organizations like the NCAA, Nascar, and the Indianapolis Colts have voiced their discontent about the passage of this bill. In total, the Center for American Progress estimates that the bill could cost Indiana $256.4 million dollars over the next six years.

Immediately following the Indiana Senate’s approval of RFRA, the executive director of the ACLU of Indiana noted the economic and moral impacts of SB101 with this statement: “We are deeply disappointed that the governor and state lawmakers have been tone-deaf to the cries of legions of Hoosiers – including businesses, convention leaders, faith communities, and more than 10,000 people who signed petitions against the bill – who say they don’t want this harmful legislation to impair the reputation of our state and harm our ability to attract the best and brightest to Indiana.” By Thursday morning, April 2, Indiana’s Republican leaders had announced proposed changes to RFRA that they claim would not discriminate against the LGBTQ community in Indiana and by that evening Governor Pence had signed the revised law stating, “There will be some who think this legislation goes too far and some who think it does not go far enough, but as governor I must always put the interest of our state first and ask myself every day, ‘What is best for Indiana?’ I believe resolving this controversy and making clear that every person feels welcome and respected in our state is best for Indiana.”

Perhaps Governor Pence’s biggest mistake in this mess is his and other Republican lawmakers’ arrogance. The demographics of the Indiana Senate itself—largely white, largely male, largely Baby Boomer—no longer reflect the values of Indiana or the United States of America. Of 50 members, 46 are white and 4 are black; 40 are male and 10 are female; 36 are over the age of fifty and 21 over the age of 60. With 40 Republicans and 10 Democrats, the Senate is emblematic of Indiana’s low voter turnout rather than a representative authority. Indiana had the lowest voter turnout in the country in the 2014 midterm elections.

Surrounded by like minds, Indiana lawmakers and the governor seem to have forgotten what makes a Hoosier, that unaffected small-town kindness, unpretentious common sense, and dedication to honesty and goodness. Maybe it has to do with hanging in the balance of a giant landmass, but there is something in the Hoosier constitution that detests unfairness. That is where this legislation misses its mark. By singling out the easiest target on the playground to bully, the Indiana legislature created an internal rebellion and a national uproar. It is not about the media, and it is not about religion. It is about politics, hurtful politics that have the potential to harm my family and millions of Americans like us. The Hoosier spirit knows intuitively: that is just not right.

About the Author: Kelley Calvert is an Assistant Professor of English for Academic and Professional Purposes and the director of the Graduate Writing Center (GWC) at the Middlebury Institute of International Studies. She has worked as a professional writing tutor at California State University Monterey Bay, providing workshops for students in English conversation skills, grammar, and composition. She is also a professional freelance editor and writer. Prior to MIIS, she served as a professor of English for Peace Corps in Benin, West Africa, and as an AmeriCorps writing and technology tutor for inner city youths in the Washington, D.C. area. Her teaching experiences include work with undergraduate and graduate students, community college students, and children.

Iran’s Nuclear Program: A Generational Divide

Ghazal Rahmanpanah MIIS Update, Politics, The World November 23, 2014

by Ghazal Rahmanpanah
–Iran/USA–

Multigenerational presence at Tehran marketplace. Photograph courtesy of the author.

Multigenerational presence at Tehran’s Old Bazaar. Photograph courtesy of the author.

In the summer of 2013, three decades after the end of the Iranian hostage crisis, the windows of the former United States embassy in the heart of downtown Tehran were washed once again and colorful murals were painted on the abandoned external walls. With the election of Dr. Hassan Rouhani to the Islamic Republic’s presidency, the people of Iran began envisioning a hopeful relationship between Iran and the U.S.A, believing promises of negotiations and economic relief to be imminent.

Yet over a year later, analysts and experts on both sides continue to debate how the endgame will play out. There is very little certainty whether the U.S. demands of dismantling uranium enrichment capacity will be met and whether the countless, crippling economic sanctions on Iran will be promptly removed.

Moreover, at the heart of these negotiations are many complex diplomatic challenges for the West given the Iranian nuclear program’s covert history and the government’s prohibition of media coverage of all things nuclear. However, what seems to be missing almost entirely from this ongoing analysis is the voice of the Iranian people – the voices of those the most impacted by the dialogue between the United States and its former friend and close ally within the Middle East.

Since the revolution in 1979, Iranian domestic and foreign policy have isolated the country from its former allies, with the nation’s nuclear program only exasperating the isolation. The program’s roots are grounded in the U.S.-backed regime of Iran’s last monarch, Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi. In the late 1950s, Iran’s nuclear cooperation began when the nation became a signatory to the U.S. Atoms for Peace program under President Eisenhower.

For the next two decades, the Shah bankrolled dozens of nuclear power stations across the country with U.S. support and backing. Simultaneously, the country ratified the Partial Nuclear Test Ban Treaty (1963) and the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (1968). Under the Atomic Energy Act of Iran, funding began to pour into the scientific and technical infrastructures necessary to carry out projects in industries such as agriculture that would use atomic energy to flourish. The Shah was determined to develop a full nuclear fuel cycle, building nearly two-dozen nuclear power plants by the mid 1970s.

Tehran mural. Photograph courtesy of the author.

Mural on former U.S. embassy wall in Tehran. Photograph courtesy of the author.

Then, in 1979, as the Iranian Revolution unfolded and U.S. ties severed, all nuclear projects froze. U.S. contracts to build new power plants were cancelled. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini shut down the country’s nuclear program until 1984, at the height of the Iran-Iraq war, when the Ayatollah had a change of heart. With Saddam Hussein pursuing an Iraqi nuclear program, Ayatollah Khomeini secretly sought assistance from Germany to restart the halted program – the same year the U.S. Department of State added Iran to its list of state sponsors of terrorism.

For the next 30 years diplomatic relations between Washington and Tehran officially remained non-existent even though the rhetoric and talking points continue to be heavy-handed. During this time, Iran’s official attitude towards The Great Satan – its policies and regional actions – are a matter of very public record.

In 2013, Hassan Rouhani, the former Secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, ran a campaign promising “Government of Prudence and Hope.” Assurances of enhanced mutual trust between Tehran and the international community and relief from “cruel” western sanctions were the foundation to Rouhani’s sweep of Iran’s seventh presidential elections with nearly 51 percent of the votes.

The election of Rouhani ushered in hope and optimism for many Iranians, specifically the country’s very young population. His ascension to the presidency highlighted a significant phenomenon impacting politics and life in contemporary Iran – the country’s widening generational gap.

According to the Mundi Index, over half of Iran’s nearly 81 million are under the age of 25. This figure signifies the existence of two critical generations within the country: the generation that witnessed and barely survived the revolution and subsequent years of war and the generation that did not.

Mural on former U.S. embassy wall in Tehran. Photograph courtesy of the author.

For the former, the years following the overthrow of the Shah on February 11, 1979 were marred by mass executions of political opponents and former government officials as the new regime swiftly moved to consolidate power. According to historian Ervand Abrahamian, from 1981 to 1985 during the regime’s “revolutionary crisis mode,” it is believed over 8,000 opponents were executed – a number far exceeding the number killed by the Shah in an attempt to stop the revolution. Almost immediately following the revolution, Iran entered a devastating eight-year war with neighboring Iraq. While dissidents and political opponents faced executions at home, the young were being sent to the front lines as martyrs. For the survivors of this generation the scars of war are very real. Samira*, a family friend from the Northeastern city of Mashhad, tells me “Until 1979, political debate was in our blood … and then the killings began. So who is left for debate?”

The years of war created a lasting impression on this generation – a generation filled with both pride and fear when it comes to national identity. Fatemeh* was only 15 when the country broke out into revolution. Well traveled and sharp-tongued, even by Iranian female standards, she currently works as an office manager for a prominent law firm in Tehran. Sitting in an ice cream shop, I ask her thoughts on the now infamous “Happy in Tehran” dancers. “They were bi-hijab (without hijab) while singing in the streets,” she says frankly. “They broke the law, so what did they expect?”

For this generation, the issue of atomic energy is closely tied to their national identity as an Iranian. For individuals such as Fatemeh and Samira, the roots of the nuclear program are deeply grounded in their rights as a citizen of the world. Ali, a middle-aged man with a young family working in Tehran’s bazaar, is never short on criticisms when it comes to Iranian politics. Pushing him on his thoughts regarding the nuclear energy program, he bolsters proudly “it is the right of our people. China has it [a nuclear program], the U.S. has one, Israel has theirs,” he replies. “So we have a right to have one too.”

Yet, when the same questions are brought up to Iran’s budding young population, the sentiment is starkly different. Maryam*, a highly educated young mother of one, gave up her full time job as a travel agent to stay at home with her young son. Although her engineer husband has no objections to her working, she is frustrated with the lack of jobs in her field of accounting. She recalls the days when the regime spoke proudly of the nuclear program and how it would be a source of alternative energy for the country. “And then nothing came of it,” she says angrily. “We waited for the supposed energy to manifest and it didn’t. Instead, things just got worse and the economic pressures have poisoned our society.”

For this young and seemingly unfulfilled generation, the regime they never chose has failed to keep its promises of prosperity. The nuclear program has yet to create the alternative energy it was supposedly set out to do and the country continues to fall further into isolation. It remains to be seen what, if anything, will come from the Geneva talks and whether the outcries of the younger generation will start to take a toll on the political actions of the country’s old guard. I ask Maryam if she could send one message to the United States, what would it be. She ponders for a minute and replies, “I would tell them that the opinion of our government is not the opinion of our people. Don’t punish us for the choices of our fathers.”

*Name is changed for the safety of the individual.

About the author: Ghazal Rahmanpanah is an Iranian-American born in Tehran and raised in Maryland and Washington, DC who recently received her MA in International Policy Studies and MBA in International Economics at the Monterey Institute of International Studies. She is currently working as a media analyst for a global strategic communications firm. Ghazal is passionate about gender equality and the role it plays in disarmament initiatives.