Sistani and Khamenei: The Kid Glove and the Iron Fist

Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
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Sistani and Khamenei: The Kid Glove and the Iron Fist

Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS
Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei speaks at the Hussayniyeh of Imam Khomeini in Tehran, Iran, August 13, 2018. Official Khamenei website/Handout via REUTERS

With the latest nationwide protests in Iran -the second in less than a year- dominating the headlines, other significant developments there may not attract the attention they deserve.

One such development concerns the Shiite clergy facing what could be the biggest challenge it has faced since its formation in the 16th century.

Because many members of the ruling elite in the Islamic Republic wear clerical clothes, complete with black or white turbans, and sport mandatory beards, outside observers often assume that the Shiite clergy as an institution rules Iran. A closer look, however, may show that such a view is more due to an optic illusion than to reality.

According to best estimates, Iran, India, and Iraq, which together account for almost 80 percent of all Shiites, are home to some 400,000 clerics, most of them Iranians or boasting some Iranian background. And, yet, only a fraction is involved with the Islamic Republic in Tehran.

The Islamic Republic employs an estimated 25,000 clerics in Iran and finances a further 10,000 clerics in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Afghanistan, India, Pakistan, and several other African and Asian countries. In Iran, the largest corps of mullahs on government payroll is made of the 3600 Friday Prayer Leaders’ network, all appointed by “Supreme Guide” Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Also appointed and financed by Khamenei is a nine-ayatollah “Council of Fatwa” in Qom that includes such prominent figures as Ayatollah Nasser Makarem Shirazi. The Islamic Republic also controls and finances the “Howzeh Elmieh “ (Scientific Circle) in Qom, head by Ayatollah Muhammad Yazdi.

And, yet, the bulk of the clergy in Iran has managed to maintain much of its traditional independence from political power.

According to estimates by Hassan Khalkhali, a prominent researcher of clerical issues, as far as the number of followers (muqalledin) is concerned state-appointed clerics represent no more than 10 percent of the “flock”.

More than 90 percent of Iranians who still pay “khoms” and “sahm e Imam”, that is to say, informal taxes to clerics, direct their money at mullahs as far away from the state as possible in Iran’s present circumstances.

According to sources in Qom, Grand Ayatollah Ali Muhammad Sistani, a prominent Iranian cleric living in Najaf, Iraq, and acknowledged as the current “Marja’a Taqlid” (Source of Emulation) receives more than half of all “donations” made in Iran, in turn re-cycling them through over 150 business enterprises and charities.

All this means that the late Ayatollah Ruhallah Khomeini dream of a fusion of religion and state in Iran has not been achieved. The Islamic Republic he found has quickly reverted to the original Safavid model in which the Shiite clergy played a prominent role while ultimate political power rested with the ruler.

Under Khomeini and Khamenei, the role of the ruler is played by a cleric who, nevertheless, is unable to claim supremacy in religious matters.

Being one of the top 20 ayatollahs then in circulation in his time, Khomeini was “Marja’a taqlid” for many believers in parts of Iran but never achieved the supremacy that grand ayatollahs such as Abol-Hassan Isfahani or Muhammad Hussein Borujerdi had reached in their respective eras.

Today, Khamenei’s status as a pretender to “marjaiyah” is even more dubious.

According to Kazem Assar, a leading authority on Shiite clerical matters, the “Marj’a” should fulfill five conditions.

The first is that he should be a descendant of Fatimah, daughter of the Prophet. The second is that he should be of Iranian background and nationality. The third is that he should be fluent in both Persian and Arabic. Fourth, the would-be “Marja’a” should have published a “risalah” (dissertation) attesting to his scholarship. Finally, he should be recognized, at least implicitly, by a number of grand ayatollahs as primus inter pares (first among equals).

Khamenei fulfills the first three conditions, but is nowhere near achieving the last two.

His entourage spread rumors that he has put final touches to his “risalah’ which will be out soon. People close to Khamenei’s circle say his “risalah” is ready, but afraid of possible criticism, he keeps postponing full publication. The same fear has prevented him from publishing collections of his poems composed over more than half a century but known only to a handful of confidants.

He also receives flattering messages from ayatollahs he pays in Qom and elsewhere but is never acknowledged as “first among equals.” This last point has caused him some problems.

For example, he cannot travel to Najaf, Iraq, the “holiest” city of Shi’ism because if he goes there he cannot do without seeing Sistani and the two or three other grand ayatollahs resident there. However, it is unlikely that Sistani and possibly the other grand ayatollahs would agree to go to wherever Khamenei is staying in Najaf because that would mean acknowledging him as their superior.

In contrast, if Khamenei goes to Sistani’s house, for example, it would mean relinquishing his claim of being the leader of Shi’ism or, as the Constitution of his republic claims, of the “Islamic Ummah” as a whole.

Similar considerations have prevented Sistani from traveling to Iran.

Before Khomeini seized power in 1979, Sistani used to travel to Iran every year for pilgrimages to Qom and his own native city of Mashhad. He had to end that tradition because if he went to Iran he would have to call on Khomeini or Khamenei, thus acknowledging them as superiors. At the same time if he ignored them, and they did not come to call on him, that could signal a major clerical schism.

Meanwhile, a new generation of clerics is emerging in Qom and Najaf that, provided religion remains a key factor in society, are likely to put as much blue water between themselves and Khomeini’s world vision as possible. For example, Grand Ayatollah Muhammad Jawad Alavi Borujerdi who, while maintaining polite relations with Khamenei, is slowly tracing a completely different path for the community.

The top four grand ayatollahs in Najaf and the nine officially sanctioned ones in Qom are in their 80s. And Khamenei himself is knocking on the door of his ninth decade. All of which means the current Shiite clerical hierarchy cannot be regarded as a long-term structure.

The creation of the Islamic Republic was an “innovation” (bed’ah) bound to be rejected by Shiite religious tradition. It was an attempt at the fusion of political and religious powers, something anathema to the original Safavid model. In the past four decades, it has divided Shiism into two realities: one religious, the other political, trying to co-exist but not without difficulty.

As a political reality, Shiism is today headed by Khamenei controls a major country and, despite current cash-flow problems, significant financial and economic resources. That reality can buy political support in many centers while also financing parallel armies and mercenary parties in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, Gaza and elsewhere. Yet, it cannot win authority on religious grounds. Even in Lebanon where the Islamic Republic has spent over $ 20 billion in the past decades, the overwhelming majority of Shiites look to Najaf and Qom, not Tehran, for religious guidance.

The way Sistani and Khamenei have reacted to the current political turmoil in Iraq and Iran highlights the politico-theological schizophrenia hat inflicts Shiism today. Sistani takes the side of the protesters, counseling kid-gloves treatment by the authorities, because he aims to maintain links with the community. Khamenei counsels the iron fist method because he wants to prolong the political status quo.



Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
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Damascus’ Mazzeh 86 Neighborhood, Witness of The Two-Assad Era

Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi
Members of the Syrian Arab Red Crescent stand near the wreckage of a car after what the Syrian state television said was a "guided missile attack" on the car in the Mazzeh area of Damascus, Syria October 21, 2024. REUTERS/Firas Makdesi

In the Mazzeh 86 neighborhood, west of the Syrian capital Damascus, the names of many shops, grocery stores, and public squares still serve as a reminder of the era of ousted Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and his late father, Hafez al-Assad.

This is evident in landmarks like the “Al-Hafez Restaurant,” one of the prominent features of this area. Squares such as “Al-Areen,” “Officers,” and “Bride of the Mountain” evoke memories of the buildings surrounding them, which once housed influential officials and high-ranking officers in intelligence and security agencies. These individuals instilled fear in Syrians for five decades until their historic escape on the night of the regime’s collapse last month.

In this neighborhood, the effects of Israeli bombing are clearly visible, as it was targeted multiple times. Meanwhile, its narrow streets and alleys were strewn with military uniforms abandoned by leaders who fled before military operations arrived and liberated the area from their grip on December 8 of last year.

Here, stark contradictions come to light during a tour by Asharq Al-Awsat in a district that, until recently, was largely loyal to the former president. Muaz, a 42-year-old resident of the area, recounts how most officers and security personnel shed their military uniforms and discarded them in the streets on the night of Assad’s escape.

He said: “Many of them brought down their weapons and military ranks in the streets and fled to their hometowns along the Syrian coast.”

Administratively part of Damascus, Mazzeh 86 consists of concrete blocks randomly built between the Mazzeh Western Villas area, the Mazzeh Highway, and the well-known Sheikh Saad commercial district. Its ownership originally belonged to the residents of the Mazzeh area in Damascus. The region was once agricultural land and rocky mountain terrain. The peaks extending toward Mount Qasioun were previously seized by the Ministry of Defense, which instructed security and army personnel to build homes there without requiring property ownership documents.

Suleiman, a 30-year-old shop owner, who sells white meat and chicken, hails from the city of Jableh in the coastal province of Latakia. His father moved to this neighborhood in the 1970s to work as an army assistant.

Suleiman says he hears the sound of gunfire every evening, while General Security patrols roam the streets “searching for remnants of the former regime and wanted individuals who refuse to surrender their weapons. We fear reprisals and just want to live in peace.”

He mentioned that prices before December 8 were exorbitant and beyond the purchasing power of Syrians, with the price of a kilogram of chicken exceeding 60,000 Syrian pounds and a carton of eggs reaching 75,000.

“A single egg was sold for 2,500 pounds, which is far beyond the purchasing power of any employee in the public or private sector,” due to low salaries and the deteriorating living conditions across the country,” Suleiman added.

On the sides of the roads, pictures of the fugitive president and his father, Hafez al-Assad, were torn down, while military vehicles were parked, awaiting instructions.

Maram, 46, who previously worked as a civilian employee in the Ministry of Defense, says she is waiting for the resolution of employment statuses for workers in army institutions. She stated: “So far, there are no instructions regarding our situation. The army forces and security personnel have been given the opportunity for settlement, but there is no talk about us.”

The neighborhood, in its current form, dates back to the 1980s when Rifaat al-Assad, the younger brother of former President Hafez al-Assad, was allowed to construct the “Defense Palace,” which was referred to as “Brigade 86.” Its location is the same area now known as Mazzeh Jabal 86.

The area is divided into two parts: Mazzeh Madrasa (School) and Mazzeh Khazan (Tank). The first takes its name from the first school built and opened in the area, while the second is named after the water tank that supplies the entire Mazzeh region.

Two sources from the Mazzeh Municipality and the Mukhtar’s office estimate the neighborhood’s current population at approximately 200,000, down from over 300,000 before Assad’s fall. Most residents originate from Syria’s coastal regions, followed by those from interior provinces like Homs and Hama. There was also a portion of Kurds who had moved from the Jazira region in northeastern Syria to live there, but most returned to their areas due to the security grip and after the “Crisis Cell” bombing that killed senior security officials in mid-2012.

Along the main street connecting Al-Huda Square to Al-Sahla Pharmacy, torn images of President Hafez al-Assad are visible for the first time in this area in five decades. On balconies and walls, traces of Bashar al-Assad’s posters remain, bearing witness to his 24-year era.