By Ramin Madadlou, Assistant Professor, Imam Sadiq University, Tehran, Iran.
Our story with America began with World War II. The Americans were one of the three occupying forces that entered Iran. Like the British, they spoke English, but unlike them, they did not have a bad record—indeed, they had no record at all. Even after the war and Germany’s defeat, they established an office in Tehran called the Truman Point Four Program, which carried out projects in agriculture, public health, and infrastructure, funded by the United States.
Then came the movement to nationalize Iran’s oil industry—the first popular movement in Iran after the Constitutional Revolution. The Qajar Shah of Iran had, decades earlier, granted a monopoly over Iran’s oil through the D’Arcy concession to an English businessman, who in turn transferred it to his government. The British had established the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (BP). Over time, BP expanded, grew beyond an oil enterprise, and turned into a British state within Iran. It had money, it had military forces, it had power. At one point, Reza Shah Pahlavi sought to cancel the oil concession, but his monarchy was threatened, and instead of annulling it, he extended it through the 1933 contract—under worse terms for Iranians and better terms for the British. For all its evils, World War II had one benefit for Iran: the downfall of the despotic Reza Shah. After his fall, Iranians argued that the extension of the oil concession had been carried out under a dictator and that Iran’s interests had not been taken into account.
Dr. Mossadegh, Iran’s prime minister and the leader of the oil nationalization movement, sought to ensure that the management and control of Iran’s oil would be in Iranian hands. Iranians were even willing to pay compensation for terminating the concession, and the Iranian government, as the employer, intended to sign a fair new contract with BP. But Britain not only refused to relinquish control over the oil; it did not even recognize Iran as having any right to it. In their view, the Iranian people were not even capable of governing themselves, let alone managing an oil industry.
Dr. Mossadegh looked for a country that would help Iran, and he saw that country as the United States. The Americans spoke of the rights of Asian and African nations; they spoke of respect—what could be better than that? So, they entered Iran’s oil case. But in reality, what mattered least to them was the rights of nations. Their aim was to expand their own influence and counter Soviet influence in the Middle East. Up to the point when Iran’s oil nationalization movement dealt a blow to the British—America’s rival—they acted as a mediator between Britain and Iran. But once the conditions for their presence in Iran were prepared, they staged a coup against the oil nationalization movement and against Iran’s lawful prime minister, Dr. Mossadegh; they overthrew Iran’s national government and brought back Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, who had fled the country.
We did not want to be anti-American, anti-British, or anti-Soviet. We simply wanted to be independent—and that very demand was our crime. Truman, the U.S. president at the time, had said that if the Iranian plan succeeded, Venezuela and other countries would do the same, and this would pose a major threat to American interests. The Americans were pursuing their own interests.
The coup and Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s return to the throne—this time as a puppet government installed by the Americans—was like a bucket of cold water poured over Iranians’ dream of independence. Instead of independence, Iran moved toward becoming “Americanized.” Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s despotic regime wanted Iran to become American in its culture, economy, and politics—except, of course, for the dictatorship itself. But it did not happen. We were Iranian, not American. Even if we had wanted it, it would not have been possible: in America’s desired world order, we Iranians were on the margins, not at the center. We were meant to be oil servants and to play the role of victims in the U.S.–Soviet struggle—nothing more.
In the end, after fifteen years, we had become a country wandering aimlessly in its culture, economy, and politics. The majority of our people lived in poverty, yet there was a direct flight from Tehran to Washington. Many of our children had no clothes, yet the most expensive American and European brands had branches in Tehran. The sound of American music did not allow the sound of people’s suffering to be heard in Mohammad Reza Pahlavi’s court… and so we made a revolution—in order to be Iranian and independent.
Even then, we were not anti-American. We said that America should engage with us as an independent Iran, on the basis of mutual respect. But America supported Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, who had once again fled; it froze Iran’s assets, sanctioned us, and sought to stage another coup against us. The takeover of the U.S. embassy in Tehran was meant to prevent a renewed American coup against our pursuit of independence.
After the embassy takeover, matters became complicated. The pride of the American superpower was wounded, and it turned into an obsession for them. The Iranians demanded that the Shah be handed over to be tried in Iranian courts and that Iran’s assets be released. The Shah died, and we acknowledged our mistake in attacking a diplomatic site, but our assets were not released.
Time and again, we tried to restore relations with the United States—on the condition that our independence be respected—even during the Iran–Iraq War. But they fabricated the McFarlane affair and falsely claimed that Iran had secret military and economic dealings with Israel, thereby discrediting us in the eyes of Islamic countries. In the final year of the Iran–Iraq War, they directly entered into a naval confrontation with us and even targeted Iran’s civilian passenger plane with a missile.
During the presidency of George H. W. Bush, American servicemen were taken hostage in Lebanon. Bush Sr. issued his famous statement, saying that “goodwill begets goodwill.”
Giandomenico Picco, then an adviser to the UN Secretary-General, acted as an intermediary between Iran and the United States. Iran decided to pressure the Lebanese to release the hostages; in return, the Americans would pressure Israel to release Lebanese prisoners, and Iran’s frozen assets would also be released. The American hostages were freed, but the Lebanese prisoners were not, nor were Iran’s assets. Instead, the United States labeled Iran a sponsor of terrorism—and it even awarded a medal of honor to the captain of the USS Vincennes, who had targeted Iran’s civilian passenger plane. Goodwill had not brought goodwill for us Iranians.
Yet we continued to seek mutual respect. When Iran’s nuclear file became the central issue, we accepted that confidence-building was necessary. We accepted that we had to prove we were pursuing nuclear knowledge, not a nuclear bomb. With the Tehran Declaration, we accepted the IAEA Additional Protocol and suspended part of the enrichment process. With the Paris Agreement, we suspended all of our nuclear-related activities. But the outcome for Iran was almost nothing; the Americans did not consider us trustworthy. They referred Iran’s case to the UN Security Council and portrayed Iran as a threat to the world. We were sanctioned; they even banned medicine for our sick children. Years passed in negotiations, and eventually the JCPOA was signed. We fulfilled all our commitments under the JCPOA, yet the result for Iran was almost nothing; Trump withdrew from the agreement and intensified the sanctions.
Once again, years of negotiations followed—years of accepting demands, inspections, concessions, and even overlooking the assassination of our national hero, General Qassem Soleimani. And the result? We woke up one morning and saw with our own eyes the bombing of our cities, the martyrdom of our heroes, and the destruction of our scientists’ achievements.
Our sleeping pride as Iranians became a victim of America’s cruelty. What was our crime? Our crime was that we wanted to show respect and to be respected. We wanted to be free. We wanted to remain independent. But America did not deem us worthy of respect, freedom, and independence—and it responded with coups, branding us terrorists, assassinations, deception, and the killing of our women and children. And is imperialism anything other than trampling on honorable nations?
Our story with America has reached its final chapter: the moment when the protagonist accepts that the villain of the story is not going to respect his freedom, independence, or humanity; the moment when the protagonist decides to turn the silent humiliation he has endured into anger—and from that anger, draw the will and strength to build a future without the villain; at the very least, a future in which the villain is forced to respect and accept our independence and freedom.