Increment

Ignatius, David. (2009). The increment. New York: W.W. Norton.

A nuclear scientist with a conscientious objection to the regime ruling Iran pursuing a nuclear weapon contacts the CIA through its website. A virtual walkin, or VW, he comes to the attention of Harry Pappas, an agent with his own conscience who wants to stop the Administration from hurtling toward imposing an embargo on, and perhaps bombing, Iran.
     Ignatius writes a believable tale, an enjoyable what if?

One review in the Washington Post offers a compliment: It may lack fireworks, but it bears the hard weight of both political and personal history and recognizes the seriousness of what might come next.
One in the Guardian is a bit more reticent: well paced and suspenseful, and the attention to local detail (downtown Tehran is rendered as vividly as top-level CIA briefings) convincing enough to excuse the occasional stereotype.

The Hezbollah project

Joe Klein reviews a book about Hizbullah by journalist Thannasis Cambanis.


Created in the early 1980s, Hezbollah was a joint venture of Israel and Iran. Israel inadvertently provided the motivation with its brutal 1982 invasion of Lebanon and attempt to establish a pro-Israeli puppet government there — undoubtedly, the worst foreign policy decision the Jewish state ever made. Iran, intoxicated by the euphoria of its 1979 revolution, provided the money, military training and equipment to its fellow Shiites in south Lebanon who, up till then, had been a disdained underclass in Lebanon’s polyglot ethnic mash-up. Israel continued to provide the motivation, by occupying a sliver of southern Lebanon until 2000, and Iran — using its Syrian ally as a go-between — continued to provide money and arms. But along the way, an extraordinary thing happened: Hezbollah developed a successful formula for governing the Shiite districts in southern Lebanon.

Klein is a shrewd observer of US politics, and has written numerous books, including the infamous Primary Colors.

Nasrallah is an extraordinarily shrewd leader. He lives modestly and has made sacrifices for the cause; he lost his oldest son in the war. He can be funny and self-deprecating in public. He has an “almost erotic” appeal for his followers, many of whom are afflicted by an eschatological delusion (the return of the Mahdi) that is remarkably similar to the Christian Rapture myth. Nasrallah’s rhetoric is fierce and his anti-Semitism flagrant, but, Cambanis writes, he has none of the pomposity that characterizes the family dynasties in the rest of the region. He makes smart decisions — refusing to take vengeance on those who collaborated with the Israelis during their occupation; allowing a looser, more permissive form of Islam to Lebanon’s Mediterranean sunbathers and beer-drinkers than his Iranian sponsors permit. And, most important of all, he is an ingenious marketer, especially in his ability to redefine success: victory is survival.

The ability to define vistory over Israel in any form is a major coup.

He also fails to put Lebanese Hezbollah in the context of Iran’s larger terrorist network — which includes Saudi Hezbollah and a surprisingly active Latin American wing. Who runs those? How does Hezbollah fit into Iran’s Revolutionary Guard Quds Force structure? 

Hezbollah, sadly, may prove over time to be the strongest indigenous response to the colonial hubris visited upon the Middle East by Western powers since the end of World War I.

View from Tehran

Wonderful Film(s)

Burnt by the Sun - a Russian film. Picked it off the shelves at Hewlett.Woodmere Library rather randomly (in the last several weeks, and more, I've been looking for the Foreign Language sticker on the spine of DVD or even VC films, starting out looking for films in Spanish, progressing to other languages, too) -- and came up with a couple of gems.

Last night I watched Offside, an Iranian film about women who want to go to Tehran Stadium to watch Iran vs. Bahrain, the qualifying match for the 2006 World Cup. It had a lot of talking -- in fact, mostly talking, but it was quite good: poignant (knowing that women, as the film shows, have a subordinate (to say it kindly) position in Persian society), funny, absorbing.

Utomlyonnye solntsem is the anglicised title of Burnt by the Sun (Утомленные солнцем in Cyrillic). It was excellent. The story takes place in 1936. A revolutionary hero is enjoying an idyllic time in the country of the family of his younger wife. Together with their 8 year old (or so) daughter, they have a loving family core. In the house are also the woman's grandmother and various other family members.

The relationship between father and daughter is expressed beautifully. Tender, loving, it oozes a love I do not think I have seen as well acted ever before; the little girl was amazing. Too, the relationship between husband and wife drips love, yet shows an underlying layer that shows the complexity of sexual-love relationships between women and men.

There is zany action (a Can-Can with three, maybe four, generations of females frolicking and kicking their legs, for one), there are zany characters (a servant who guards her chest and buttocks with a silver tray to protect said anatomy from pinches and slaps). Young pioneers and gas-attack-protecting civil defense groups add to the multi-tiered plot.

Under all this, a political angle is developed. Mytia, a former lover of the mother, Marusia, shows up and add a strong dose of tension. In order, it becomes clear there is tension. Soon it is made clear that Mytia is not just a weird one, not just an eccentric, but the one who injects Stalin into the middle of the picture (literally).

All along there are references made to balloons being constructed for the glory of the Motherland and Comrade Stalin. And a glowing ball shows up; its symbolism is not entirely clear, but clear guesses ca easily be made.

What makes this kind of film starkly different from many, I'd say most, the overwhelming majority of Hollywood films, is that the acting is subtle and intense, the story and plot are strong and deep, and the razz-ma-tazz is minor: there are few special effects; the eroticism of the love between Mariusia and Kotov leaves a good deal to the imagination, and the sweep is grand.

In the end, Stalin's terror is starkly clear -- yet, again, it is not served with the heavy hand that is so prevalent in Hollywood products. A beautiful film; I gave it a 9 (maybe and a quarter, even a half).