Western Gender Roles and Iranian Women

Women’s roles in premodern Iran are very different from how the west might perceive them. While we in the west tend to view gender in all cultures through the same lense as our own, gender in the binary is often very uniquely western. Thus, women’s roles and struggles in societies around the world differ drastically from those of women in premodern western countries. For example, Najmabadi’s book highlights an issue that women of Iran faced that would not have occurred in many western societies. In her book, the struggles of women to pry the attentions of their husbands away from their young male lovers is a key issue. For the women of this society, femininity was the not the ultimate goal to achieve maximum attractiveness. Rather, these women would often draw mustaches on their faces so as to appear more like the young men they competed with. Thus, they were not viewed only as objects as sexual desire to lusted after by men, but as only one the options presented to a very specific population of men.

These problems are so unlike those of the women of the west, that to analyze the struggles of modern women through a western lense would be to completely disregard this complex history. The choice or lack thereof to veil is one that many western societies would label as a global feminist issue, demonizing the veil as an inherently misogynistic tool of the patriarchy, yet to many Iranian women, even those who may not necessarily wish to veil, this is not the case. Rather, the rigid binary systems that led to these conditions are an introduction from the west. They are a form of ongoing imperialism rather than one of patriarchal dominance. They oppress all Iranians, not just women. This strict definition of gender and the roles belonging to each sex is a concept that was introduced by Europeans, and in a way, forced onto the Iranian public, so that their histories of gender fluidity might be erased in favour of a more western view of the age old practice of the necessity of women to act only as objects of desire for the men in their lives.

The Status of Women in Iran

“When a man pinches a woman’s bottom or grabs her breast on the street, modernity’s heterosocial promise has become a nightmare.  Woman’s voluntary reveiling in the 1970s in many urban centers of Islamic countries acquires a somewhat different meaning in this trajectory.  But that is a story for another time.”  Pg. 155

“From the late nineteenth century, a great deal of cultural criticism has been expended on the farangi’ma’ab.  In fact, through [the] mid-twentieth century, the prime figure of modernity’s excess was not female; the so-called Westoxicated woman did not become the main demon of gharbzadegi (Westoxication) until the 1960s and 1970s.”  Pg. 138

“The issue of women’s veil and unveil, compulsory or consensual, in Islamicate societies and communities has taken center stage in discussions of ‘the status of women’ in these societies on an international scale.  The veil, in its hypervisibility, has come to serve as a sign for more than gender; it has come to be read for ‘the state of modernity.’  This hypervisibility has compounded the erasure of that other excess figure of Iranian modernity by continuing the prior work of making woman stand as a privileged mark of modernity.”  Pg. 242

How does Najmabadi’s account of gender fluidity in premodern Islamic Iran help us to understand the ongoing debate and attention to the status of women in postrevolutionary Iran?

The Allegory of the Cow: Lessons on the Concept of Modernity

While watching “The Cow” I began seriously pondering to what extent we can assign any intangible qualities to modernity. If the cow is indeed a metaphor for Iran’s oil, and the storyline intended to mirror the crisis Iran experienced under Shah Pahlavi in the 1970’s, then the films seems to carry a message of continuity rather than one of disjointed eras or irreconcilable contrasts. Modernity is, after all, not a scientific construct; rather it is whatever society construes it to be at any given flashpoint. As historians and sociologists were first grappling with the concept of modernity, they would have doubtless viewed oil as a definitively modern resource; the “black gold” made valuable by the legacy of the Industrial Revolution and used to power most of the world’s most “advanced” technologies. The cow, meanwhile, would have been seen as a rather archaic economic resource, intrinsically linked to the sustenance farming that Rostow saw as defining the “traditional society” which was lowest on his five-staged pyramid of development. However, it can be said that the cow was viewed and treated by its owner in the exact same fashion as Pahlavi and his cronies viewed and treated their resource of oil . Both became a singular obsession; both led their owners into inhabiting a distorted reality that led to their ultimate downfall.
Thus to me “The Cow” illustrates an argument by which the concept of modernity works best and most cohesively when applied solely to the material realm. It is easy to say the cow is a “pre-modern” resource and oil is a “modern” resource; that said, it is much more difficult to find differences in the human flaws that governed the management of both the cow and oil. The allegory of the cow points to characteristics such as greed, pride, and tunnel vision that have transcended eras and cultures to define the human condition.

“Moo”dernity

In my first impression of it and upon further analysis of it, I very much appreciated this film. I love the ambiguously wise nature of it, the loud noises and incoherent shouts followed immediately by literally minutes of complete silence, the blank look on Hassan’s big bovine face as he stares at his neighbors and slowly chews hay.

Without analysis, it would be hard to examine this film as making a statement at all about the Iranian experience of modernity. I do believe that it says quite a bit about modernity though. The experience of the “hospital” as some far-away object capable of healing of the mind and the body very well experiences some of the first interactions between the premodern and the modern: a feeling of distant longing for modern amenities in times of trouble such as this one. I also loved observing the (largely sexist) relationship between men and women in this movie. One quote in particular stood out to me as meaningful, and I paraphrase: “Yes, good. It is not good to leave a young woman home alone.” This quote illustrates one relationship between men and women in rural Iran, after it had been exposed to “modern” ideas of the gender binary (as Afsaneh Najmabadi pointed out in her book) but before it had “modernized” enough to re-normalized the idea of woman as potentially just as dominant as men. The subtle subjugation of women in this film goes hand-in-hand with the illustration in this film of a culture of authority (as opposed to “reason”) and the portrayal of women as the spiritual/religious figures in Iran.

Despite the Chief being the chief of the village, it is clear throughout the film that Eslam is the true brains of the village. When the men talk about what to do with Hassan before they do decide to take him to the hospital, Eslam makes a suggestion, another man objects to the suggestion, and the Chief says “If Eslam suggested it, it must be a good idea.” In this sense, a strong authority culture is portrayed throughout the film, as the idea itself does not matter as much as the authority/ethos of the person suggesting the idea. There is a clear hierarchy of ethos that runs through all the men of the village, starting with the man with a mental disability on bottom, running up from the young troublemaker and irritating, avoidable man in the window all the way up to the Abbas, the Chief, and Eslam.

In the film, there are several occurrences of the whole village going out and engaging in some form of mass panic. In all these scenarios, however, the men do either the action or the reasoning. For example, when Hassan’s (unnamed) wife cries out, the whole village rushes to her rescue, but only the men are able to calm her down, and only the men figure out what to do after an answer is coaxed out of her. But, in the final gathering, which is Hassan’s “funeral” scene, the women run things. They conduct the ceremony, lead the men and children in mourning, etc. In all spiritual/religious events in the story (except when Eslam says that it is a sin to use animal skins), it is the women who are the main focus.

It is hard to tell the extent to which this film is strictly Iranian, since indeed it portrays a rural life that many already view as being typical, rural “pre-modern” life in any country. There is nothing in this film that could distinguish this film as being strictly Iranian, since the men in the village are largely “nationalistic” only for their own village (as distinct from the evil Bolouris), which many would characterize as “tribalism.” Perhaps this film is attempting to say something about the connection between “premodern values” (such as authority culture, the subjugation of women, the femininity of spirituality, the animal nature of mankind, etc.) and the lack of true nationalist fervor in a populace.

Sorry, this ended up being super long. I guess I got a little too excited.

The Cow and the Struggle to Modernize

The plot focuses on a childless peasant who lives with his wife and their cow. For the desperately impoverished hamlet in which they live, the cow is a primary source of sustenance. Accordingly, the man dotes on the cow, adoring his as cow as if it were his child, taking the cow to graze in the open fields and carefully washing it. His connection to this cow is so strong that when the animal dies under mysterious circumstances while the man leaves to go to the capital, the villagers conspire to lie to him about the fate of his cow, fearing that the truth would break him. Despite these efforts to obscure the truth, the man does not believe the others, eventually turning insane and believing himself to be a cow before coming to an untimely end.

Given the ambiguities surrounding many of the plot points, like what exactly happened to the cow, much of the film itself is left to the interpretation of the viewer. One interpretation of the movie that is very much in keeping with the themes of our class is that the cow can be seen as symbolizing the oil of Iran. The cow is so central to the functioning of the village that its demise leads to a major disruption in the village. Indeed many of the villagers are dependent on this singular cow. Similarly, around this time oil was itself central to the functioning of Iran, to the extent that a threat to its supply constituted a threat to national stability.

Another possible interpretation of the film that would speak to the themes of the course are to consider the village and centrality of the cow to its way of life as representing the inertia of a traditional, culturally authentic lifestyle. As this lifestyle is rudely and abruptly disrupted by the death of the cow, rather than rapidly adapt to changing realities, i.e. quickly adapt Western attitudes and technologies, the erstwhile cow owner chooses to live in a state of denial. This eventuates in the man’s death, while can be read as the filmmaker’s caution to Iran against a refusal to adapt to changing realities.

This anxiety about change and the struggle to reconcile change to traditional culture and ways of life are unique to the Iranian experience of the period. Rather than attempting to whitewash the difficult transition Iran underwent at the time, the film allegorically presents a complete image of the challenges of culturally authentic modernization.

 

Modernity and “The Cow”

I came away from The Cow with an ambivalent impression of modernity. I first noticed modernity’s presence in the character of the chief, whom I see as being representative of the village as a whole. Much like his counterpart in The Grocer and the Chief, He sees himself becoming impotent in the face of modernity. The interactions with Saffan’s son and his ceding of authority to Eslam in the Hassan case both represent this loss of power and control. This change is not presented in any negative light. The chief willingly gives over authority to Eslam and everyone seems to agree he is the best man for the job. The Eslam-Hassan dynamic became for me symbolic of the local modernist attempting to pull his compatriots into modernity.

If we take Kapuscinski’s claim that Iranians under the Shah retreated into premodern tradition as a place to “seek shelter” (K, 113), we might take Hassan as undergoing similar psychological trauma with the death of his cow, especially if the Bolouris are thought of as representing the Shah’s regime. Iranians watching The Cow in Tehran would know the feeling of anxiety about losing everything at any moment which induces Hassan to sleep with his cow for fear of the Bolouris. His psychotic break and retreat into animalism would likely garner some sympathy among viewers. However, Hassan’s condition is also wild and terrifying, the dark scenes in the cow shed at once provoke sympathy and disgust.

Eslam, meanwhile, seems to embody local modernist thinkers, who both harbor deep faith in the source of modernity (i.e. the city) but also empathize with their compatriots and see them as modern individuals. Eslam’s continual entreaties to Hassan to remember his name and identity as an individual reflect this. But there is ambivalence around Eslam. In the scene when he whips Hassan, the film shows the temptation Eslam feels to view Hassan as beneath him or even subhuman. There seems to be both support for modernist thinkers and concern.

Hidden Criticisms in “The Cow”

The film, “The Cow” as I’m beginning to believe is true of most everything, both modern and not modern at the same time. The characters all exhibit traits there are very purposefully designed to appear unenlightened, closed off from the rest of the world, and superstitious. There is a feud with a neighbouring town, a fundamental lack of compassion and understanding for the mentally challenged boy, and repeated fear of an “evil eye” is mentioned by the women. Yet, the movie seems very aware of this, and seems to want the viewer to be too. This lack of understanding of the perspective of others is the root of all conflicts. Fear of the neighbouring village is, in large part, the driving force of Hassan’s mental breakdown. The inability of his neighbours to comprehend his situation, and help him out of it is what causes his death. Had Hassan lived in the city, the events of the movie would have played out very differently. With access to a global collaboration of medicine, he may have been treated immediately. Despite the lack of tangible modernity in the film itself, the themes all seem very modernist.

At a time when modernity was in the forefronts of the minds of so many Iranians, it makes complete sense that this film would have been so highly acclaimed by critics. Modernity was, and remains, a touchy subject in Iran. It needed to be approached with caution. This movie’s just subtle enough message achieved just that. There was an advocacy throughout for modernity without it ever being too explicit. The movie managed to capture the life of an Iranian village in a critical light without being offensive, or degrading the people who lived there. Thus, a message was sent to the target audience without a necessary fear of extreme backlash.

“The Cow” and the Modern

When I first watched The Cow I was deeply confused. I could understand the film as a commentary on human nature (dependence, desperation, mental health, relationships, and the eventual loss of humanity), but I had trouble seeing any connection to modernity, except with the very surface-level read that these events were primarily taking place in a village that did not appear to be “modernized” and lacked stability in the form of external structures, such as governing bodies, law and order, or access to local healthcare. Professor Malekzadeh pointed out the importance of positionality in the film, both of the characters and the viewer in Tehran. This made it a bit easier to see a connection to modernity, as the viewers in Tehran would not see the Iran presented by the film as part of an Iran that was familiar to them; it would be a distant representation, like a relic from the past.

One element that I think relates to our course material is the role of superstition in the film. While religious belief itself is not necessarily counter to modernity, the dependence on rational thought in ‘modern’ life does involve a push away from superstition and superstitious behavior. In the film, for example, one of the villagers blames an ‘evil eye’ after the death of the cow. Another tells him to be quiet. I think this could be read as an expression of modern thought competing with pre-modern thought, as while the person expressing the latter seems comfortable with the ‘evil eye’ as a causal explanation, the person rebuking them is looking for a cause more easily understandable or rational. This is also expressed when the villagers agree they should take Hassan to the city, the representation of the modern, in order to be healed, as they are relying on some possible medical intervention to provide an explanation and solution to his belief that he is a cow.

The Cow

What are your initial impressions of The Cow as it relates to the themes of the course, and in particular, to our ongoing discussion of Iran’s particular movement towards modernity?  How is this an Iranian film, if at all, in your estimation?

 

Reading Notes for James C. Scott’s “Seeing Like a State”

James C. Scott, Seeing Like a State
 
1.  James Scott seems to express skepticism of the project of modernity, at least in its manifestation in the realm of state formation.  How does Scott’s concept of “high modernist ideology” compare to Mirsepassi’s rejection of modernity’s “dark origins?”  How are their critiques similar or different?
2.  Scott is famously concerned with recovering the stories and the voices of the voiceless (“hidden transcripts” and the “weapons of the weak” are among the phrases associated with his research).  Above all, Scott disdains portrayals of state authority as a natural, benign, or even neutral force.  Across the text of Seeing Like a State, the reader gets a full dose of his skepticism, and yet he expresses ambivalence as to the worthiness of state projects and of the logic of modern rule.  Please consider his comments on pages 54 and 62, for example, on the design of Paris, or more dramatically, his take on the  mapping of Amsterdam’s Jews, found on pg. 78.  Is the “legible city” ever a neutral technology?  If “illegibility…has been and remains a reliable resource for political autonomy,” is the loss of individual freedom worth the gains made in hygiene, organization, and the preservation of private selves and property?
3.  The above question can be put another way:  On balance, what normative judgement can we make of modernity?  In class we’ve struggled with this question, leaning on the decidedly non-academic language of “good versus bad.”  How might we think of modernity in terms other than these?  Can we escape the binary?
4.  As you read Scott, keep in mind the distinctions that we’ve already touched upon, cleavages thrown up by the emergence of the modern era:  public/private, sacred/profane, as well as temporal and physical distinctions.  Why did the positivists see the past as an impediment to the future?  How does the desire for timelessness and “placelessness” compare to the discussion raised by Danny, that of “recovering modernity” in the ancient past, or the technique of “authenticating modernity?”
5.  Finally, consider the comparisons made by Scott between Lenin and Luxemburg, and Corbusier and Jacobs.  Scott offers the pairings as gendered alternatives, with a clear preference for the “right side” of the ledger.  Are you convinced?  Did his use of gender strike you as…strange?