“Language, Status, and Power in Iran” in “Language, Status, And Power In Iran”
THE MANAGEMENT OF
INTERACTIONAL
PARAMETERS
Perception, Attention, and “Status” in Interpersonal Interaction
The section that follows deals with principles of communication that affect the interrelationship between participants in the communication act and message form (cf. Hymes 1974: 56). Because my approach to the class of human interrelations often characterized as “status relations” is not a standard one, I will take a few paragraphs to deal with some epistemological issues fundamental to the analysis that follows.
I maintain, as a basic tenet underlying this study, that interpersonal status in interaction is directly related to the quality and nature of the selective perceptions that individuals have of each other in communication situations, as well as to the patterns of expectations one builds up predicated on the complexes of individual phenomena one chooses, is led, or simply happens to perceive at any given moment. I suggest that at each point in the discussion, perceptions of status may vary, depending on the set of phenomena being attended to at the moment of interaction. It follows then that if perception within the interactional field is fundamental to the use of varying stylistic elements in interpersonal communication, we must also speak about the nature of attention.
Attention is often thought of as a physiological process. It was Peirce alone who conceived of attention as a link in logical processes, however. He characterized it as follows:
[A]ttention is the power by which thought at one time is connected with and made to relate to thought at another time; or, to apply the conception of thought as a sign, that it is the pure demonstrative application of a thought sign.
Attention is roused when the same phenomenon presents itself in different subjects. We see that A has a certain character, that B has the same, C has the same; and this excites our attention, so that we say “These have this character.” Thus attention is an act of induction; but it is an induction which does not increase our knowledge, because our “these” covers nothing but the instances experienced. It is, in short, an argument from enumeration. (Peirce 1955: 179)
Peirce goes on to connect the notion of attention developed above with the notion of habit. By Peirce’s account, a habit arises from the generalization of the performance of a particular act via the stimulus arising from the neural associative sensation of having done that particular act on several occasions to a generalized occasion of which the particular occasions are a subset. Thus, “the formation of a habit is an induction, and is therefore necessarily connected with attention or abstraction. Voluntary actions result from the sensations produced by habits, as instinctive actions result from our original nature (Peirce 1955: 179).
Peirce’s notion of attention and habit dovetails nicely with the proposition, developed earlier, that meaning in interaction arises from the conjoining of selective perceptions in the immediate situation with select items of preacquaintance and selected projections of the consequences of the immediate situation. Attention and habit constitute the process whereby such linkages become repeated and generalized over a range of situations.
When considering the nature of social reality for individuals engaged in interaction, the position I have adopted thus far has been closely akin to that of George Herbert Mead, Herbert Blumer, and other “symbolic interactionists.” The symbolic interactionist position espouses a view of society based on interactional models as opposed to one based on organizational models. As Blumer maintains:
[S]ocial organization is a framework inside of which acting units develop their actions. Structural features, such as “culture,” “social systems,” “social stratification,” or “social roles,” set conditions for their action but do not determine their action. People—that is, acting units—do not act toward culture, social structure or the like; they act toward situations. Social organization enters into action only to the extent to which it shapes situations in which people act, and to the extent to which it supplies fixed sets of symbols which people use in interpreting their situations. (Blumer 1969: 87–88)
Combining the two perspectives—those of Peirce and the symbolic interactionists—it becomes possible to make a statement such as the following: Selective perception of, or attention to, phenomenal elements in interaction is a habitual inductive process that links, through generalization, particular situations under a single categorical rubric. Although individual interaction situations can be thought of as essentially unique, the processes and organization of social life can generally be thought of as shaping situations to the point that similar phenomena will be present and available for attention over a wide range of separate situations.
The most common form of interpersonal interaction involves exchange between individuals. Thus, situations in which similar kinds of exchange occur may be generalized under a single rubric. Similar phenomena that occur in such exchange situations can also be singled out for attention within those situations. Some of those phenomena may be seen as attributes of the setting itself. However, the relationship between the situation and the phenomena that occur within it is a dynamic one. That is, if a situation is defined as being a particular kind of situation, participants will tend to selectively perceive phenomena that will support that definition. This adds another dimension to Peirce’s notion of attention: a deductive dimension. Put simply, people not only practice induction in the process of generalization through selective perception, but also deduction in the process of selective perception through accepting a generalization.
In either case, the reference point—the point of fusion of interpretation for the individual (and thus the locus of meaning)—is not in the individual attributes that one perceives but rather in the generalization that one induces to, or deduces from.
With this realization, we are freed in a discussion of general principles of communication in Iran, or in any community, from having to center our discussion on the particular phenomenal attributes that all actors in interaction attend to in their selection of stylistic variants in interpersonal situations. It is for this reason that I have tried throughout this discussion to avoid the formulation of “rules” in dealing with conversational practices in interaction. Rules of usage, as I pointed out in the last chapter, cannot represent what individual speakers actually do in interaction, based as they are on schemes of interrelationships of features or of attributes. For example, formal rules of usage cannot account for the strategic ironic, humorous, or derogatory use of language.
In describing the characteristics of social differentiation in Iran that are relevant in governing behavior in interaction, I have purposely moved away from descriptions in terms of categorical status dimensions, such as high/low status. This avoids the problems of having to specify every component that makes up high status or low status. Such an exercise is probably futile anyway, as Geertz has observed in declining to carry out such an analysis of Javanese culture (Geertz 1960: 258).
Rather, I choose to describe social differentiation in terms of the quality and ease of the flow of exchange that obtains between two or more people and the communication principles that the persons engaged in interaction use as basic orientations in their attempts to harness, divert, and regulate this flow. Selective attention to social attributes and characteristics that others possess are the clues that allow people to develop their skills in human relations. However, in any system where there are adroit and maladroit operators, we must assume that some are better at picking up and using this information effectively than others. The principles of communication that orient people to each other in interaction are like highways on a map of the territory of human relationships. Once one has a clear view of the map and its relationship to the territory, one can negotiate those roads with some ease.
Dimensions of Exchange in Iranian Interaction
If we consider the dynamics of exchange in Iranian life from the perspective of an individual actor, we see him performing three basic functions in his dealings with others:
1. providing action for others
2. providing material goods for others
3. stimulating others to provide either goods or action
In Iran, exchange of this sort can be unequivocal and unmediated or qualitatively marked. This is to say, there are ideally, on the one hand, potential relationships that persons can engage in that involve unbounded, unmarked exchange of goods and action—where mutual demands for action can be made in a direct fashion. There are, on the other hand, relationships where transfer of goods or action and stimuli for goods and action are qualitatively marked in exchange.
The first of the two kinds of exchange can be thought of in perceptual terms as interaction where two persons are defined as being, or perceive themselves to be, close, equal, similar, or intimate in terms of some clear common dimensions. This feeling is conveyed by the Persian term sœmimiœt or the adjective sœmimi—used primarily between persons who define themselves as friends, dustan (singular dust). In this kind of exchange, as well as in the other kind, an ethic is implied. (I mean to use ethic in the sense of an aesthetic and moral ideal against which all interactions of this sort are measured, both by the parties involved themselves and by outsiders.) The ethic is one of communality, merger on a spiritual and material plane, and absolute reciprocity. This will be discussed more fully below.
The second of the two kinds of exchange can be thought of, again in perceptual terms, as an interaction where two persons perceive themselves to be dissimilar or unequal. In this relationship, one party takes the part in exchange of
1. providing favors,
2. providing rewards, and
3. stimulating others to provide goods or action through issuing orders.
The other party takes the part in the exchange of
1. providing service,
2. providing tribute, and
3. stimulating others to provide goods or action through making petitions.
The two roles in the exchange situation are reciprocal. If one person is thought to take the first role, the other must take the second. Though the relationship here may seem to resemble Brown and Gilman’s “power semantic” (Brown and Gilman 1960), Iranians speak of persons in the first role as bozorgtœr (bigger, greater) or balatœr (higher). As we will see below, the idiomatic identification of the two roles is significant for behavior both because it is stated comparatively and because it uses images of size and height.
The ethic implied in both the first and second role in this kind of exchange can be thought of as one of symbiosis. In the first role it consists of the duty that proceeds from noblesse oblige; in the second role it consists of the duty that proceeds from gratitude, submission, obedience, and respect.
In both the first and second kinds of exchange, the ethics involve obligations of an absolute sort between the parties involved. In the best of all possible worlds, then, if everyone were established perfectly in one or another of these relationships with all persons within his acquaintance, exchanges and interactions would flow perfectly and smoothly, for everyone would know how and in what way he must fulfill his duty to God, himself, and others.
The ultimate fulfillment of duty in both kinds of relationships is total self-sacrifice—the sacrifice of one’s life. Therefore it is not surprising that concepts of sacrifice and self-martyrdom play such a central role in Iranian religious and secular literature, common central elements of speech [gorban-e-šoma (short for “I would be your sacrifice”), jan-nesar (life sacrificer), used in place of the pronoun “I” and many others], and the propensity of many Iranians to attempt suicide in situations where honor or duty to another is at stake.1
Unfortunately, the world is not so constituted that everyone knows his exact position vis-à-vis others. Thus, as one would expect, a good deal of energy in interaction over both the short and the long term is spent on trying to establish mutual relationships in interaction. However, the situation is rare indeed where persons are totally unknown to each other and cannot establish some sort of relationship to each other, on the basis of the activity that brings them together, the characteristics they can observe about each other, or the skill that either or both may have in imposing role definitions on the other person. Such situations, when they do occur, are characterized by noninteraction or real jockeying for position.
As a Persian-speaking foreigner in Iran, and occasionally having to deal with people on a business basis, I was often terribly difficult to place within the interactional scheme (this is true with, of course, most foreigners anywhere). In being associated for a short time with a University Institute in Tehran, I was in the peculiar position of wanting to be on friendly terms with people whose work I was directing, to the point where I would visit in their homes and socialize with them informally as well. This caused a great deal of discomfort for some, since in an Iranian office persons are not invited to socialize in the homes of subordinates, or decline if they are invited. One may accept an invitation from a superior, however, and is under pressure to socialize with one’s equals on both an invitational and an informal basis. One who traffics with everyone or will accept any kind of accommodations is labeled colloquially darviš, likening him to the holy mendicants who traditionally operate outside the confines of the normal system of social relations.
This was no less true in the village, where I deferred to nearly everyone and made overtures by becoming sœmimi with a variety of individuals from all ages and income groups. This might have turned out badly, resulting in my being excluded from most interaction situations. In my case it turned out well, in that in the community I ended up having free access to nearly any house for informal socializing and was invited to participate on all formal occasions. My ambiguous status was marked, however, by a decided disinclination to involve me directly in events as they were occurring or in conversational interchange, except at my initiation. For my purposes, this was all to the good; I was welcome but disattended except when I chose not to be. Requests were not made of me, and I was not allowed to make gestures that would include me within the social interchanges of the village.
I wish to emphasize here an important distinction between intimacy between perceptual equals and intimacy between perceptual non-equals. In both cases, spiritual attraction is and can be very great. However, between perceptual nonequals, the ideal of spiritual merger is thought to be attainable only ideally. The tension in the search for such a spiritual merger is embodied in the figure of Jalalu’d-din Muhammad Rumi (b. 604–d. 672/1273), known in Iran by the name Maulavi and generally acknowledged as the greatest Sufi mystic poet. Rumi’s attachment for the dervish Shamsu’d-din Muhammad of Tabriz, generally known as Shams-e Tabriz, whom he acknowledged as his master and spiritual guide, formed the creative tension for much of his work. As Ritter states:
The physical beauty of the dervish and his exorbitant mystical-narcissistic assertions on the more exalted spheres of the Beloved (ma’šuq) captivated Maulavi completely. Because this ecstatic love-relationship aroused the antipathy of the disciples, Shams in his indignation departed for Damascus; but he eventually [returned] . . . only to arouse a fresh storm of protest that resulted in his being compelled to leave the place again (645/1247). No one knew where he had gone and Maulavi searched for him in vain. The latter’s longings and anxiety on account of the Beloved made of him a great poet. By identifying himself with the vanished Ma’shuq he finds him again. It is not he himself who sings his songs, but the teacher, personified in him. . . .
The lyrical work Kulliyyat-i Shams-i Tabriz “The Collected (lesser) Poems of the Sun of Tabriz” . . . is one of the most prodigious achievements in poetry. From beginning to end the undercurrent of the songs is formed by the mysticism of the identification of Subject and Object, flowing on the one hand into pantheism and on the other into self-deification, “with strong emphasis on the narcissistic motif of the identification of the Self with the Object of Love and of Mergence with Him (Ritter 1933: 91).” (Rypka 1968:240–41)
Intimacy between perceptual equals is perhaps better likened to the relationship between individual members of a Sufistic order who are engaged together in a common quest. An archetypical example of this is exemplified in Faridu’d-din Attar’s (d. ca. 627/1230) extensive allegory, Mantiqu-t-Tayr (Conversation of the Birds).2 In this allegory, thirty birds attempt a quest for the fabulous mythical bird-God, Simurgh—an allegory for the search of the Sufi body for Truth. In the end, however, the birds’ search for unification with the exalted object of love becomes a discovery of their collective selves. As Attar points out, the Simurgh is in the end just that: thirty (si) birds (murgh). I repeat some of Browne’s paraphrase of the final passages from the work below:
Through the reflection of the faces of these thirty birds (si murgh) of the world they then beheld the countenance of the Simurgh.
When they looked, that was the Simurgh; without doubt that Simurgh was those thirty birds (si murgh).
When they looked toward the Simurgh, it was indeed the Simurgh which was there.
While, when they looked toward themselves, they were si murgh (thirty birds) and that was the Simurgh.
And if they looked at both together, both were the Simurgh, neither more nor less. . . .
They besought the disclosure of this deep mystery, and demanded the solution of “we-ness” and “thou-ness.”
Without speech came the answer from that Presence, saying: “This Sun-like Presence is a Mirror.
“Whosoever enters It sees himself in It; in It he sees body and soul, soul and body.
“Since ye came hither thirty birds (si murgh), ye appeared as thirty in this Mirror.”3
(Browne 1906: 514)
Sufism in Iran in a very real sense embodies the direct denial of the social as well as cognitive differences existing in the mundane world. Thus it is not surprising that in the Sufistic literature, the highest form of enlightenment is a state in which the individual differences of an equal status collectively (the first exchange relationship treated at the beginning of this section) and the differences between unequal subject and object, superior and inferior, master and student (the second exchange relationship) are obliterated, effecting a total merger of consciousness on all levels: that which is termed Annihilation in God (Fana fi’llah).
Relations of Equality: Dowreh and Partibazi
Persons who perceive themselves to be equal and subject to the demands of interaction and exchange obtaining between intimates are most often those who have a significant degree of communality of life-experience. They are most often directly related to each other. They are often the same age and have known each other for a significant period in their lives. At times, the basis for their relationship may consist solely in the fact that they may be thrown into similar circumstances for a period—an occurrence common for Iranian students living broad, who develop binding relationships with persons with whom they would be unlikely to associate at home.
It is difficult for many Americans to appreciate the quality of intimate relationships in Iran. The degree of emotional commitment to a cousin, brother, or close friend can reach levels that for Americans begin to have sexual connotations. To interpret this kind of relationship as sexual is a mistake, however. Besides being generally disapproved, homosexual relationships as practiced in Iran contradict the pattern of equal reciprocity in intimate social relations between equals by demanding that one person be in a subordinate position. A more common sexual activity among male intimates who perceive themselves as equals is the sharing of a prostitute, which may serve partially as a physical release related to the emotional ties obtaining between the two.4
Personal relations of equality have their institutional counterparts in Iranian society as well. Arasteh divides traditional Iranian society into three groups characterized by dimensions that correspond to the exchange relationships set up in the last section. I will deal with the first two dimensions he treats, “dominance” and “submission,” in the following section. A third group in traditional society has been characterized by Arasteh with the label, “autonomy.” According to him, this group
included the creative urban element of craftsmen, artisans, some merchants and an allied group of writers and religious mystics. This independent group was chiefly responsible for maintaining the continuity and expressiveness of Persian culture over a long period of time. The principal mode of conduct within this group was the mechanism of cooperation and the spirit of fellowship. This principle functioned particularly within the social institutions of urban communities. Among the various social and cultural associations were professional, recreational and other groups. The heads of these organizations, often prominent informal leaders customarily cooperated with religious leaders to check the unjust practices of the dominant (Arasteh 1964a: 184).
In contemporary Iran, however, the obligations of intimate, equal relations are best seen embodied and perpetuated in two extraordinarily pervasive institutions: the dowreh, or circle of intimates, and parti or partibazi, the institution of “pull” or inside connections with persons in the position of granting favors or marshaling power on one’s behalf. Both of these institutions have been dealt with at great length by political scientists commenting on Iran (Bayne 1968; Bill 1972; Binder 1962; Miller 1969; Nezami-Nav 1968; Zonis 1971). On reading these accounts, one gets the impression that the dowreh and the practice of partibazi are limited to only the upper classes and political affairs. In sketching these two institutions below, I will try to demonstrate the ways in which they are operative at the village level as well.
The dowreh is essentially the institutional embodiment for the first exchange pattern outlined above. It consists of a group of persons, either all men or all women, who feel themselves to be equal and alike in some important way. Any of the following may serve as the basis for formation of a dowreh: members may all have attended educational institutions together; they may all have similar cultural interests; they may have common backgrounds of foreign residence, all having lived in France, for instance, or the United States; they may share the same political or religious beliefs (cf. Bill 1972: 44–47; Binder 1962: 258; Miller 1969: 163–65; Zonis 1971: 239). Dowrehs generally meet together on a regular basis, ostensibly to socialize and to carry on some common activity, such as listening to music or reading poetry. Within longstanding dowrehs there gradually develops the kind of absolute obligation on the part of the dowreh members to further the interests of the individual members characterized in the last section as obtaining between perceptual equals. This is, of course, extremely important within the political arena. As Zonis notes, “Without straying beyond the confines of his own dowreh, a new prime minister may locate individuals to hold ministerial portfolios, men who have known each other, communicated with each other on a relatively intimate basis, and developed a more or less common outlook together for a number of years. While the premiership is the most vital example, similar opportunities and problems arise when one member of the dowreh accedes to any position of administrative responsibility” (Zonis 1971: 240).
As several writers have pointed out, not the least function of the dowreh is as a communication link. Political information of consequence is rarely obtained firsthand through the press or other news sources.5 The network of personal connections members of the press have is their first and foremost link with major developments as they break. Also, since individuals belong to more than one dowreh,6 the flow of information through informal channels of communication is nearly immediate. As Zonis writes, “. . . dowrehs . . . frequently cut across social class lines. As a result, the message will fan out not only within a given social class, but also between social classes. No wonder that a message generated at the Imperial Court will reach the most humble bazaari within a day or two” (Zonis 1971: 240).
Groups of this sort have existed for centuries. In an important sense, dowrehs operating in the political sphere are the secular counterparts of Sufic orders, many of which involve persons who have conventional secular occupations. It is interesting to note in this light that the various bodies of Freemasons in Iran used to constitute a kind of multiunit dowreh that involved the royal family and was generally supportive of the regime (cf. Bayne 1968: 89).
At the village level, associations of this sort most definitely exist. Often at stake are land and water rights, wages to be paid to agricultural laborers, management of school affairs, or the establishment of lobbying groups to deal with relations between the village and larger governmental bodies. The bases for such dowrehs in the village rest on economic, educational, and land-ownership status, as well as direct kinship ties.
One dowreh that was operative during the time I was in Gavaki involved the head of the village association, two of the schoolteachers resident in the village, another man who worked in the office of Tribal Education in Shiraz but was resident in the village on weekends, the brother of the head of the village association, and the secretary of the village association. These men socialized together nearly every Friday and often on other evenings before the evening meal. They marketed crops together, bought animal feed jointly, hired agricultural workers jointly, and generally were responsible in an informal way for decisions regarding the school, development and improvements in the village, and other civic matters, although there existed other persons who were constituted to carry out these functions. In a survey of village heads of households, the names of the persons in this dowreh emerged as the most trusted and respected persons in the village, although they were by no means the wealthiest or the largest landholders. One indication of their power to further their interests beyond the limits of the village consisted of their ability to have one of them elected to the provincial village council at every election. They lent each other money, helped each other on labor projects, and to boot lived just a few houses removed from each other in the village. They were a true mutual interest group within the village, one which few could intrude upon. As I will try and show below, this dowreh setting was also the most “informal” setting one could find these men involved in, and the language of their interpersonal communication reflected this to a great degree.
In a very real sense, the family itself constitutes a natural dowreh. Members of families must be able to further each other’s interests and provide for the survival of the family unit as a whole. For this reason it is to the advantage of the family to have great diversity in its membership in terms of occupations, interests, political connections, life styles, and so forth. Indeed, the family of the former shah reflected this diversity. For this reason, too, entrance to a family through marriage is a highly considered operation. Marriages in Iran are predominantly arranged or at least requisite of family approval. This system prevails even among urban, modern families, not so much because children are under the control of socially and religiously conservative parents, but because as a rule people in Iran do not marry people; families marry families. Thus marriage negotiations can approach the complexity of a corporate merger. Moreover, the common Western notion that it is the woman who is treated as chattel in an arranged marriage is dispelled under the realization that both the bride and the groom serve as coin in these negotiations. As was so often the case with European royalty in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, marriages today, particularly in the case of wealthy and powerful families, are often contracted as a matter of expediency rather than as a matter of affection. In such situations, though lifelong marital faithfulness may be required “for public consumption,” it is not really anticipated.
Here again, the principles obtaining for the wealthy upper classes are pervasive and operative in smaller towns and villages. In Gavaki, the biggest piece of news during the year I was there was the contracting of marriage between the daughter of one of the claimants to the title kœdkhoda and the son of the brother of one of the other claimants. This was an extremely astute move politically, and nearly everyone was happy about it. It meant that a major communications rift had been bridged in the village, and that one kœdkhoda, who represented large landowners in the village, would be under some pressure to represent the needs and desires of villagers identifying with the other kœdkhoda claimant in a more sympathetic manner. Similarly, large landowners could count on greater cooperation from other villagers for development and economic projects they favored. The marriage did not resolve the kœdkhoda situation in favor of either claimant, but it did make communication much easier between two major village factions.
If the dowreh is the institutionalization of exchange relationships between persons perceiving themselves as equal according to some significant dimension, then the behavior obtaining between such persons is institutionalized in the practice of parti or partibazi. Binder describes parti as a form of lobbying, and indeed it is, in a sense. However, lobbying as we understand it in the United States consists largely of the representation of group interests. Parti in Iran deals in the representation of individual interests to persons with the power to grant privileges of various sorts: employment, licenses, exemptions to certain laws, or other favorable acts (Binder 1962: 255). In order for the system to work, it must involve persons linked in a chain-like fashion by bonds of obligations. The crucial links in the chain of obligation that lead to effective action in partibazi are most often those that obtain between perceptual equals—individuals who have some degree of absolute claim on others, either through family or through friendship.
Occasionally the crucial link in partibazi will be based on petition-request from a subordinate, but this is rarely effective if the ultimate recipient of the favor is several links removed from the potential granter of the request. On the other hand, any request pressed by a close perceptual equal must be granted or must seem to be granted. In order to implement strategies of this sort, adroit operators in Iran go to all sorts of pains to discover what social linkages actually exist between themselves and people in power. James Bill (personal communication) tells of persons who regularly read obituary columns to discover the outlines of networks that they might key into. Similarly, knowledge of another person’s close friends and associates becomes prime information in the play for personal advancement and the obtaining of personal privilege.
Here again, the exercise of parti need not be restricted to either the urban or the national political arena. In Gavaki, I observed numerous instances of partibazi, but on a much lower scale. One principal area concerned secondary school admission. A fairly respected and well-established landowner in the village was friendly with the teachers in the village school. He entertained them often, even those who were not resident in the village. His son, who was something of a dullard, began to get improved marks in school. Finally, the father prevailed on one of his teacher friends to see what he could do about getting his son into a fairly good high school in Shiraz. The teacher went to one of his friends who was in an administrative position in a high school in town, and he admitted the youngster. The boy’s grades were good until the administrator left the city to live in Tehran. After the change in administration, the boy promptly failed all of his subjects. The son blamed his father for the failure because the father’s parti wasn’t good enough to sustain the son’s satisfactory grades. The whole situation embarrassed the father no end—not so much because his son was not bright, but because what his son had said was true: his parti was inadequate to care for his relatives.
Another area where partibazi was used in Gavaki concerned dealings with village landowners who had moved to Shiraz, but whose land holdings were fairly substantial. A typical situation came up every spring and fall when one or more of these nonresident landowners would hire a tractor to either plow or harvest grain crops. Often the tractor would be hired for a full day or several days, but would not have enough work to fill the whole time. Persons who had small land holdings were anxious to cut in on the tractor time and pay for the small proportion of the total time they might be able to use the services of the machine. For the small landowners, there was very little alternative if they wanted their land plowed or their crops harvested by tractor. The number of persons who would have to combine forces and agree on a single day to hire a tractor to plow a number of small scattered plots of land would be quite large, and reaching agreement among themselves as to what day and what payment methods would be used would be nearly impossible. Clearly, then, the best way to get one’s land plowed by tractor was to become attached to the plowing on the days that large landholdings were being plowed. However, not everyone could have this privilege.
Around plowing time everyone’s ears seemed to be pricking to find out when a tractor had been hired to come and who had hired it. When the facts were known, all the landowners would try to find some way to coerce the relatives of a man who had arranged for the tractor to plead their cases before that individual, so they wouldn’t be cut off from some tractor time. Of course, the man’s own relatives had first call on being included, so they were rarely eager to plead the case of others. This led to a whole secondary level of partibazi where friends and relatives of the relatives (usually at this point wives were brought into the picture) would be called on to plead with the relatives of tractor hirers to plead the case of those, with more distant claims, who wanted to be cut in. Though things rarely got much more complicated than this, the village situation here described already begins to resemble the intricacies of the Tehran national government.
Rather than quote still more examples, let it suffice to say that in general people would attempt to obtain any scarce commodity or service in the village through the application of partibazi to the person who controlled the scarce commodity. Further, the price to be paid, if there was a price involved, was to be a nominal one. This is to say that when prices were set on scarce commodities they would not fluctuate upward solely because the commodities were scarce.7 The person dispensing the scarce commodity would be content because he was able to continue selling when others were not able. The right to buy something scarce was purchased not with more money but with more human influence.
This situation obtained only within the social network of the village, however. When the nomadic Qashqa’i tribesmen passed through the area and came into the village to make purchases, a true bazaar situation was created, with merchants trying to charge whatever they could get for the goods they were selling. In this case, scarcity of an item definitely would drive up the price, since it was rarely the case that nomads making purchases had the means to apply parti with merchants.
Relations of Inequality—Hierarchy and Tœ‘arof
If a relationship has not been created between two individuals so that they have been able to develop or begin to develop the obligations that obtain between perceptual equals, then the interactions involving those parties must embody a degree of polarity, one’s alter being conceived as either superior or inferior to oneself. As I will show below and in the next part of this discussion, it is possible for all persons to demonstrate that they regard their alters as superior or (and this is very rare) inferior. This creates a situation where the perception of one’s own superiority or inferiority is very much a relative matter. The highest official is inferior in an interaction with the leader of the nation, and the lowest street sweeper is at least superior to younger street sweepers.8
Consequently, adroit individuals in society must be capable of operating at different levels at all times, knowing both the proper and the effective ways that one’s actions should be taken. Indeed, Islam itself in demanding fulfillment of the five sacred duties incumbent on believers—pilgrimage, prayer, fasting, tithing, and alms—makes it possible for one to be elevated above one’s peers while prostrating oneself before God’s will. It may be this quality of the way in which behavior is both projected and interpreted in Iran that has prompted foreign visitors like Lord Curzon to observe that in Iran, “The same individual is at different moments haughty and cringing” (Curzon 1892: 15). Additionally, although positions within society are fairly rigid in their relative “status” markings, individual mobility through and around these positions may be quite rapid. Education, in particular, has elevated many persons to positions in society where they are regarded by their former peers as being far superior.
A young Iranian of my acquaintance was totally dumbfounded when, on his return home after receiving a full college education in the United States on an international scholarship, his father and uncles all tried to kiss his feet (a gesture of sincere and extreme respect). His relatives’ perception of themselves as inferior to him as a result of his education became so disconcerting for him that he was unable to stay in his boyhood village for any length of time without feeling uncomfortable.
To review the exchange relationships involved in superior/inferior relationships in interaction, as I have mentioned above in the second section of this chapter, perceptual superiors are bound by an ethic of duty toward perceptual inferiors emanating from the ethic of noblesse oblige, whereas perceptual inferiors are bound by an ethic proceeding from submission, gratitude, obedience, and respect. The “ethics” that I have identified here—noblesse oblige on the one hand and submission, obedience, respect, and gratitude on the other—are perhaps ill-named, but they are the linchpins in a system which keeps social interaction rolling smoothly. Material rewards flow from high to low status, material tribute from low to high. Actions flowing from high to low status are interpreted as favors, whereas actions flowing from low to high are interpreted as service. Stimuli for goods or actions issuing from superior to inferior are labeled as orders, whereas stimuli from inferior to superior are petitions. The actual material, action, or request could be identical in content, whether passing from a perceptual superior to a perceptual inferior or vice versa; what counts in social interaction is not what these activities are, but what they are conceived to be.
Perceptual superiority is further characterized by separation and stasis. Thus the person perceived to be superior is removed from other persons and not allowed to be as mobile as others. An ever-widening circle of greater and greater activity thus centers on the persons perceived as most superior by others in any social gathering, with the persons perceived as most inferior—often servants, young males, and women—engaging in the greatest activity on behalf of the older, higher-status males.
The range of behavior expectations obtaining between persons of unequal status is represented in figure 1. Instances of interpersonal inequality relationships that prove the applicability of the “ethics” cited above are legion and pervade every Iranian institution. Hanessian (1963), for example, cites numerous parallels between the vertical hierarchy differentiating landlord and peasant (before land reform) and the hierarchy separating Shah and commoner.
Fig. 1. Relative Status Positions and Their Reflex in Defining Transfer of Action, Goods, and Stimulus to Action.
A few examples from various social contexts in which my fieldwork was carried out may suffice to establish how the mechanisms of behavior between those in superior/inferior exchange relationships operate in actual reciprocal behavior.
Case l
An army private assigned to quartermaster duty regularly fills the automobiles of his immediate superiors with army gasoline without noting the fact in his inventories. Any emergency excuse he gives for requesting a special leave is accepted without question.
Case 2
A university professor returns to his rural home district where he is the only university-educated person and the one in the area with the most contacts in the capital. He brings several house guests with him from the city. His neighbors all leave their own work and come to cook and care for his guests for several days. He is perturbed when it is asked whether he might do the same for his neighbors in a similar situation.
Case 3
A worker in a university office is consistently told to run personal errands for his superiors. He will expect a larger-than-usual cash gift at Now Ruz (the Iranian New Year) if his services exceed that of his contemporaries.
Case 4
An agricultural laborer helps recruit other workers during harvest time for a large landowner. The landowner attends the wedding of the man’s son personally and makes a large cash gift.
Case 5
The former empress makes a tour of a rural province. Upon returning, she sets up a temporary office staff to answer the thousands of written petitions she has received from people who may have traveled two or three days overland to deliver them into her hands, throw them into her car, etc. She says in a press conference that one woman presented her with a piece of her own handiwork as a token of heresteem and it was noteworthy that she had no petition to make, “although I would have gladly granted any request she might have asked.”
Case 6
A government ministry employee consistently informs the divisional head of departmental developments, rumors and gossip, often to the detriment of his colleagues. He is assigned by the head of the ministry to extremely lucrative and desirable temporary foreign employment.
Case 7
Two workers in a government research bureau submit a report to their superiors. The report is subsequently translated and published in a foreign journal under the name of the superior. One researcher complains and is soon fired under some pretext. The other remains silent and is soon promoted.
Case 8
A man stands on a street in any Iranian city next to a line of parked cars. When the owner approaches he quickly wipes the windshield with a rag and opens the car door. He receives a gratuity.
Case 9
A man wants something in a government office, but the official he is dealing with is recalcitrant. The man finally begins to plead and breaks down crying. He immediately gets what he wants.
Case 10
A man gives out very large New Year’s gratuities to the tea-servers and errand runners in his office. The next day, one of the tea-servers asks the man to find employment for his brother.
Case 11
The village’s headman, schoolteachers, and large landowners are all seated at the head of the room for a village wedding. They do not move as the father and bridegroom, with members of their family, bring them tea and cigarettes and serve them food.
Case 12
Before land reform, villagers would always invite the landlord’s representative to weddings and religious events and would entertain him, either in a separate room or at the head of the room on a raised platform. After land reform he is no longer treated in this manner and stops attending weddings, except those of his immediate family.
Case 13
At a tribal wedding, guests are separated into distinct groups for eating. All women are in one group. Khans and their male relatives are in another group. Non-Khans and their male relatives are in another group, and urban governmental dignitaries with their whole families, both male and female, are in another. Liquor is served to the foreign guests and the khans’ families. The urban guests and the khans themselves are served chicken; everyone else eats rice and stewed lamb with carrots or eggplant. Khans and their families plus urban guests are given forks, individual plates, and spoons, although some eat, out of preference, with their hands. Nonkhan tribesmen are given no utensils and eat from common platters.
Cases 1–13 involve, for the most part, clear exchanges where the perceptual inferior provides a service, renders tribute, or makes a petition, whereas it is incumbent on the perceptual superior to provide favors, give rewards, or issue orders. Case 9 is interesting in that it shows a move on the part of the man confronting the official to place himself in a more and more abject position relative to the official. Weeping constitutes a truly abject petition, making it virtually mandatory that the official respond in kind with the proper favor. Case 10 represents a mistake on the part of a man toward persons who are perceived as inferiors. By giving out larger gratuities than expected, he sets up an exchange relationship that is marked by workers in his office as special. Because he has bestowed a greater favor, he can expect petitions and requests for aid more often.
The final three cases illustrate the principles of separation and status that distinguish superior positions from inferior positions in social situations. Cases 11 and 12 both involve status and separation at the “head of the room.” Case 13 demonstrates various means that can be used to separate and differentiate different strata of individuals in a large and complex social situation.
The relationships here are reciprocal, but not necessarily so. It would be better to say that the potential for reciprocity exists when the polarized inequality relationship becomes established in interaction. Perhaps a better way of describing the situation is in terms of role expectations. Case 10, already mentioned, points this up well. The office worker, in giving large amounts of money, places himself in a position to be petitioned for other favors as well.
At this point, I would like to interject a brief statement on a theme I will return to: the motivation of behavioral choice in interaction. The schools of thought current today in the study of social behavior seem to represent polar views on the idea of this point. One school, which I might label “Parsonian,” views action as basically reflexive, based on an assessment of the factors that an individual sees as encompassing him at the moment of action. The second choice might be labeled “Goffmanian.” According to it, the most adroit individuals are seen as able to impose on others the definition of a given situation that most suits their purposes, through (symbolic) impression management.
The Iranian interaction situation could be described only by using both lines of thinking about human action. Individuals in interaction do gear their actions to reflect that which they know is proper according to the norms and ethics of the situation they find themselves in. At the same time, the most adroit individuals are able to cause their own actions to be defined in such a way as to impose these societal norms, ethics, and social pressures on others, making them work in their own favor.
The interplay of strategic and reflexive action in Iranian unequal status situations is brought to light extremely well in situations that highlight the perceptions of relative superiority and inferiority of a number of individuals involved in the same realm of activity, such as eating, drinking, or engaging in discussion or ceremony. When some unanimity about hierarchy of perceptions exists in interaction situations of this sort, acting according to the ethic implied by one’s role is rewarded, as Laurence Loeb (1969) points out in his study of the Jewish community in the city of Shiraz through an analysis of tœ‘arof behavior in the Jewish knissa (temple).9
Tœ‘arof, which Loeb glosses as “compliment, ceremony, offer, present,” is an extraordinarily difficult concept encompassing a broad complex of behaviors that mark and underscore differences in social status. Indeed, I would maintain that tœ‘arof is the active, ritualized realization of differential perceptions of superiority and inferiority in interaction. It underscores and preserves the integrity of culturally defined roles as it is carried out in the life of every Iranian, every day, in thousands of different ways. Iranian youth cry in despair at its pervasiveness, but they are powerless against it and practice it themselves even while complaining about it.
Loeb, in speaking about the social ritual of the knissa, maintains that members of the community are able to accrue honor through the use of tœ‘arof in offering the right to other members of the knissa to lead the community worship services. The ground rules are simple. The chief Shaliah Shibbur offers the xavod or “honor” to whomever he chooses. On high holidays all must defer to him by not accepting the xavod themselves. Otherwise the xavod may be pressed on any member by any other literate member of the community. As Loeb maintains, “One ‘scores’ by: 1. accepting the offer after much protestation. 2. deferring the honor upward to the individual who accepts it. 3. magnanimously bestowing it on someone lower in rank. 4. pressing it on a near equal” (Loeb 1969: 6).
I would maintain that accruing honor in this situation is simply ritual statement and maintenance of one’s own hierarchical position in that momentary situation. One must first of all be adroit and astute enough to know how one is perceived within that social setting. One then (a) defers to superiors (tribute, although nonmaterial), (b) confers on inferiors (favor), (c) accepts after protest, or (d) presses it on an equal (neither tribute nor favor), and thereby “wins.” The honor that one receives thereby is community approbation for maintaining social order by verifying everyone’s perceptions in that particular interaction.
Loeb does not go into the detail about the interaction, but I would suspect that, aside from the ultimate deference to the chief shaliah shibbur, an ultimate acceptance is preceded by insistence from one’s perceptual equals that the honor be accepted. This is facilitated by the device allowing the offer to be made by any member of the community. In this way, an offer need not have any of the implications of the reciprocity inherent in other hierarchical situations and allows one to accept.
Loeb goes on to describe what one would expect, given the situation—namely that one may not “accept an offer made by someone very much higher in rank” since acceptance would imply that the recipient is being mocked. “One may accept an honor offered from below, since such is one’s due” (Loeb 1969: 7). Thus the honor of leading the service may be pressed on one by one’s equals or accepted as one’s due from one’s inferiors. Upward mobility within the system involves stepwise gradual progression into higher and higher groups of “equals” who can confirm one’s higher standing by pressing the honor of leading the service on him.
The ritual described by Loeb is repeated throughout Iran at every turn. Every time tea is offered to a group, every time several persons wish to proceed through one door, every time friends meet on the street, every time guests proceed to the dinner table at a party, the constant unceasing ritualization of the assessment of climate of relative superiority and inferiority occurs and recurs. It is this more than any other factor that gives social life in Iran its unique flavor compared to that in other oriental societies. The fact that “status” is relative for individuals in different interaction situations and the fact that, as a result of this relativity, rights and obligations shift constantly with changes in one’s social environment, make these constant social gestures important tools in everyday social relations.
So far, I have been discussing the indexical use of behavior to indicate status in interaction. This involves questions of propriety and correctness. If one fails to perceive elements of an interaction properly, one cannot respond with behavior that is a correct index of a correct perception of the situation. Inappropriate behavior signals either that one cannot perceive social situations correctly or that he does not know how to manage one’s own behavioral repertoire to produce appropriate behavior. In either case, one is judged as socially inept.
The Strategic Use of Tœ‘arof—Getting the Lower Hand
In the sense, then, that tœ‘arof constitutes in all social interaction the broad ritualization of behavioral expectations that result from status differentiation in interaction, instances of tœ‘arof are always to a degree reflexive, or indexical, of an interaction situation. However, as I have stated earlier, one might expect that the use of tœ‘arof can also be strategic or conative in interaction.
The system within the knissa as described by Loeb points out the essential point in struggles between individuals for social advancement in Iran. This is, if the issue is status or power, one cannot win in direct confrontation with another, even though he can be perceived as superior only relative to another. One only wins when that superiority is acknowledged by a third party. If acknowledgment of his superiority is made in the presence of his rival or rivals, then the victory is a smashing one.
To reiterate, one cannot accept the honor in the knissa from a superior. One must defer upwards, rendering to superiors their tribute in an act of service, or bestowing on inferiors a reward in an act of favor. All three actions—the offer, its denial, and the redirection of the offer—are the three stages of tœ‘arof. The redirection of an offer in hopes that it will eventually devolve on oneself constitutes one principal strategic use of tœ‘arof.
However, the most effective and widely used strategic formula in the use of tœ‘arof is to aim for a lower relative status position and defer to another person. In doing this, one has either shown virtue by acting modestly in accordance with one’s proper relative status or been extraordinarily magnanimous in granting a favor to an underling (who then becomes a boor if he accepts).
Thus, one cannot lose by deferring conferment of an honor, gift, status-marked prerogative, or compliment. One can lose by accepting, however. In Loeb’s Jewish community situation, one can really only safely accept the honor of leading worship from an equal, and this applies generally for all tœ‘arof situations (tea drinking, going through doors, etc.). It may be noted that some people will not visit exalted and powerful persons socially, even when offered the opportunity, in a situation where they might have to take the role of guest, since it would be too humiliating to have to be placed in a superior position one does not deserve.
Thus far, the instances of social interaction we have been dealing with have all involved cases where relative rank is known and fairly well fixed within the arena of social interaction. Another kind of social situation also exists in Iranian interaction, one in which the elements of the relative superiority and inferiority of individuals are ambiguous or at best vague. This allows a clever person to employ behavioral forms in a strategic manner to define the situation and the elements contained in it for the other persons involved, presumably for his own ends. In this situation, it turns out that taking an inferior position offers the greatest advantage once again.
There are various reasons for an individual in any social relationship where his own status is unknown to opt for using behavioral forms that indicate that he is lower in status than the other party. I have noted in the last chapter that the highest cultural admiration is given to the person who can be zerœng (wily, clever) in his dealings with other people. Defining oneself as an inferior in face-to-face social situations gives one a tactical advantage in dealing with his interaction partner by giving one more maneuverability. This is explained as follows. First, in defining the status relationship behaviorally after the interaction has begun, the person in inferior position has automatically removed one of the stratagems of the person in superior position, namely the right to choose to interact at all or not. This is no small matter; in clearly defined status relationships a high-status person can avoid petitioners, in particular, by simply not seeing or acknowledging them. As I mentioned in an earlier paper (Beeman 1976b), this prerogative carries over to such routine matters as the ordering of interaction in telephone conversations.10 Second, the inferior person can fine tune the relationship by systematically using behavioral stylistic forms that indicate even lower status for himself or herself that indicate even higher status for the person in the high-status position.
In any case, the effect of this strategic use of behavior is to make incumbent on one’s interaction partner the role expectations attached to a particular relative status. If another person can be led to accept a superior position, it becomes incumbent upon that person to grant favors, give presents or gratuities, practice noblesse oblige (thus be noble, tolerant, generous, forgiving, charitable, etc.), and occasionally issue commands on the behalf of someone. Occasionally one will cast oneself in a superior position to try and exact obedience and service out of an inferior or a subordinate. This occasionally works if particularly serious threats can be made convincingly. However, a person cast in an inferior status position has many more exit channels open, among them disability by virtue of thus acknowledged inferiority: “If you yourself acknowledge that I’m a poor slob, how can you expect anything of me?”
Partibazi and Tæ‘arof: Some Final Comparisons
I have described the two behavioral practices, partibazi and tœ‘arof as the institutionalized behavioral realizations of two basic social patterns in Iran, one involving perceptual equals, the other perceptual nonequals. That the two practices do indeed correspond to these two modes of social relations in interaction is witnessed by the inappropriateness of the use of tœ‘arof with intimates and the impossibility of the application of partibazi with hierarchical superiors.
Partibazi, as I have characterized it, is a series of links of intimate relationships that lead eventually to a person in a position to do a favor. If any of these links involve communication between a designated or perceptual superior and a perceptual inferior, that communication link must mark the hierarchical difference between the two parties. That marking of difference must be an instance of tœ‘arof and the effectiveness of that communication is no longer based on the absolute claims of intimacy, equality, and friendship, but rather on the degree to which the ethics involved in superior/inferior relationships can be made incumbent on the parties involved. Communication occurring from superior to inferior in the process of partibazi is already in a sense “post -parti” That is, when a communication made to an inferior affects the state of the originating individual, the act is already in the process of being consummated; the partibazi has been effective, and the orders are then on their way down. From this point there is little chance for return to the top. Therefore, a person in power who wants to satisfy duties to persons pressing equality claims will give the order that such and such a request be carried out, but will purposely not see the action through to its conclusion or will cause the consummation of the action to be slowed down or stopped after the order has been given. In this way, individuals are able to protect themselves from having to carry out acts that would be disapproved of by their superiors and at the same time meet the demands of their intimates and equals. For this reason, persons who intend to use partibazi to gain a concession, advantage, or favor will often choose several routes to press their claim. As one of my Iranian friends so aptly stated, “Doing business in Tehran is like trying to unravel a ball of string that has a lot of loose ends. You grab for any and all of the ends you see, and try to work at unraveling the ball from all sides.”
On the other hand, one does not practice tœ‘arof with intimates; one interprets or should interpret respectful code forms as conveying the message that genuine respect prompts their use. Of course, among nonintimates no such feeling is implied per se (this fact suggests, and I think correctly, that a clear show of respect is not tœ‘arof).
Tœ‘arof and partibazi as institutionalized communication techniques are unified by their opposition in many other ways as well. Tœ‘arof, in embodying relative perceptions about superiority and inferiority, is an interpersonal operation. One cannot tœ‘arof a collective group, only individuals within that group. The end result of the application of tœ‘arof in any given situation is, however, a clear status ranking of everyone participating. This is to say that in the application of tœ‘arof one builds temporary group hierarchical structures from the sum of the perceptions of individual dyads about superiority and inferiority. If the social composition in the interaction changes, so does the structure of the hierarchy obtaining for that interaction. Thus the movement in the application of tœ‘arof is from the individual to the collective, from fixed perception about one’s own status vis-à-vis other individuals to the construction of a temporary collective hierarchical structure.
Partibazi, on the other hand, starts with a permanent and enduring series of group structures that involve individuals who have absolute relationships to each other and moves toward forming temporary links with individuals for a single occasional purpose. Thus the movement in partibazi is precisely the opposite: from the collective to the individual, from a permanent collective structure to a series of temporary individual relationships.
Just as Sufistic tradition provides a counter-structure to the interpersonal relationships outlined earlier, in the ultimate unification with the exalted Beloved on the one hand, and with all living things with whom one is on an equal plane on the other, so does Sufism offer a process in social conduct that constitutes a counterprocess in many senses to those outlined above. This consists of the dual process of tcejrid, or outer detachment, and perception of, and absolute devotion to, the beauty of the inner essence of being (dhat) and conjointly, the inner truth (hœqiqœt) that is perceptible in that essence.11
This is a direct counter to the intense worldly involvement shown in the practice of tœ‘arof and partibazi. More importantly, it denies directly the importance placed in those two processes on external attributes and characteristics in the pursuit of external gains and goals. As Rahman points out, such a system poses a direct counter to the established social order: “A thoroughly monistic system, no matter how pious and conscientious it may claim to be, cannot, by its very nature take seriously the objective validity of moral standards” (Rahman 1968: 176).
The best contemporary treatment of the role of detachment and the need to seek a kind of inner purity in daily life is contained in a remarkable essay written by an international group of scholars meeting regularly in a dowreh to discuss core aspects of Iranian culture. The essay, “Sæfa-yi Batin” (“Inner Purity”) (Bateson, Catherine, et al. 1977), shows how desirable it is for individuals in Iran to discard the outer structure of social interaction and seek the integrity of inner truth. It features two ideal figures, the darviš, a mendicant seer figure, and the luti, a strong-willed, strong-bodied person charged with the personal responsibility for public morality. Both must see good and evil for what they are, not merely for what they appear to be, and act accordingly. Both are ideals and have rejected the superficiality of the zaher (external) for the purity of the baten (internal—batin in the transliteration of the article).
In exhortation of individuals to seek detachment from the external world and to pursue the beauty of the inner essence of being as a means for unification with the Deity—the All—the Sufistic counter to essential social processes also obliterates the social base for those processes. In a state of true enlightenment, one perceives the essential truth in all beings. Therefore, humanity in all its variety and differentiations becomes a manifestation of the same Absolute. As Jami, the mystic poet (b. 817/1414—d. 898/1492) wrote:
the companion, comrade and co-traveller, All is He!
In the mendicant’s tattered robe and in the brocade of the regal dress, All is He!
Whether in the display of variety or the privacy of unity—
By God All is He! Again, by God All is He!
(Rahman 1968: 176)
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