TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/070990/0709006.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 5KB | 113 lines

                                                                                WORLD, Page 36

IRAN

The Politics of Humanitarianism


An outpouring of international aid for earthquake victims could
end Tehran's outcast status. But probably not.


    When Iran's leaders said they would accept relief assistance
from any source after the mighty earthquake that bulldozed the
nation's northwest provinces two weeks ago, they were careful
to stipulate two exceptions: Israel and South Africa. It did
not occur to them to tag on a third -- the writer Salman
Rushdie. And so Tehran last week faced the choice of spurning
an $8,700 donation or accepting money from a man sentenced to
die by the Ayatullah Khomeini for the alleged blasphemies in
his book The Satanic Verses.

    By week's end Iran had not said which way it would go on the
offer. But Rushdie's contribution put into sharp focus the
contorted politics of giving and receiving aid in a case like
Iran's. Moved by the awesome scale of the destruction -- the
death toll was put at 40,000, making the temblor one of the
worst in this century -- even the country's most bitter foes
have held out a friendly hand. Up to a point, Iran has been a
gracious recipient, raising speculation that this momentary
congruence of urgent need with the outpouring of global support
could yank the renegade Islamic republic back into the orbit
of nations. But at this stage, the hopes remain just that.

    So far, some 171 foreign aircraft from 86 countries have
landed in Tehran to disgorge thousands of tons of relief
supplies. Many came from Iran's enemies in the West, like the
two Swiss jets carrying $630,000 worth of aid from the U.S.
Government, which severed diplomatic relations with Iran in
1980 in the midst of the hostage crisis. The official and
private efforts by the British, who cut ties with Tehran over
the Rushdie affair, have so far totaled $2.6 million. From
France came 195 civil-defense specialists, and the U.S.S.R.
sent 200 medical workers.

    Iran's estranged Muslim brothers have also pitched in. Among
them: Iraq, which fought the Iranians in a savage war from 1980
to 1988; Kuwait, whose oil tankers were attacked by Iran during
that conflict; Egypt, which fell out with Tehran a decade ago
over Cairo's peace treaty with Israel; and Saudi Arabia, which
broke with Iran in 1988 after 402 Muslim pilgrims died in
Iranian-inspired clashes in Mecca.

    Naturally, the donor countries insist that their motives are
purely humanitarian and that they expect no political kickback
for their charity. Says a U.S. official: "This is not a quid
looking for a quo." Yet the givers cannot but hope that their
generosity will soften Iran's heart, perhaps even toward the
Great Satan. The magnanimity of the foreigners may give
pragmatic President Hashemi Rafsanjani an edge over radical
rivals, who are fighting his efforts to revive Iran's economy
by opening the country to the world. "If at some point down the
road Rafsanjani needs something he can point to as proof of the
West's goodwill," adds the U.S. official, "he can point to
this."

    For now, the relief effort appears not to have won over new
middle-of-the-roaders in Iran so much as it has revived the
festering internal conflict over how to deal with the West.
Kamal Kharrazi, Iran's ambassador to the United Nations, took
the unusually conciliatory step of asserting that Iran's
tragedy "may create a better atmosphere for relations between
the Iranian and American peoples." But lawmakers in the
hard-liner-dominated Parliament sharply warned that American
aid would not buy better relations. Dismissing U.S. assistance,
the radical newspaper Jomhuri Islami declared in an intemperate
editorial, "Our people, even under the rubble, chant `Death to
America.'" At Friday prayers, Rafsanjani rebuked the paper,
saying, "We should be thankful to those foreigners."

    In truth, compared with the $34.5 million raised to assist
victims of the 1988 earthquake in Armenia, which killed 25,000,
the $4 million in private American contributions that reached
Tehran last week has been puny -- for understandable reasons.
Memories of the hostage crisis and anger over the continued
detention of six Americans by pro-Iranian groups in Lebanon are
still too strong for most U.S. citizens to overcome.

    Given the relatively paltry amount of U.S. aid, "one
shouldn't have extraordinary expectations about the political
payoff," says Shireen T. Hunter, the Iranian-born deputy
director of Middle East studies at the Center for Strategic and
International Studies in Washington. On the other hand, U.S.
donations, public and private, comprised a fifth of the $21.8
million in total international aid received by Iran last week,
and the pace of private American contributions is accelerating.
What's more, notes the U.S. official, "with the history of our
relations, I would think the Iranians might find it amazing
that they got donations at all." Appreciation might eventually
translate into better relations, but that process, like the
very efforts to rebuild the shattered lives in Iran's
northwest, will proceed slowly, one painful step at a time.


By Lisa Beyer. Reported by Dean Fischer/Cairo and J.F.O.
McAllister/Washington.