A Reflection of the Modern Iranian Psyche?

Twice, during the two months I’ve been here, I saw cars hit pedestrians with impunity and drive away. Once a driver simply drove over the pedestrian crossing line, snagged an old man with his side mirror and dragged him onto the asphalt.

And then—here’s what gets me—the driver struck his head out and laughed at his victim.

So why do Iranians drive the way they do? Why do the descendants of the people who issued the world’s first declaration of human rights 2,500 years ago offer so little respect for fellow human beings when they're behind the wheel?

And is this phenomenon a valid reflection of the modern Iranian’s psyche?

I am amused by the incongruity with how Iranians act when they are outside the automobile. Two strangers are introduced to one another and they act as if they are each other’s long lost siblings. They heartily shake hands and shower each other with pleasantries of epic scale. (An entire book can be written about this; more articles coming.)

Ghorbaneh shoma: “I be sacrificed for you.”

Ghadameh shoma rooyeh chesh-mam: “Your feet be on my eye.”

Sayeyeh shoma kam nasheh: “May your shadow never diminish.”

Then these same Iranians climb into the driver's seat and Hulk emerges.

What is it that brings about this transformation in personality? I ask this at every opportunity.

SD, office worker:

“The [1979] revolution leveled everything. What emerged afterward was a culture that valued relationships over merit and rules.

“We went from valuing zavabet”—rules—“to valuing ravabet”—relationships.

“As a result, some who previously weren’t qualified to serve tea became fantastically rich. This was difficult for others to watch; difficult for qualified, educated people who suddenly couldn’t even pay rent.

“I think people learned to dislike their own condition; they panicked; they felt that they too had to push and force their way to higher ground, no matter who’s in the way.

“Sentiments, caring about the fellow man, hospitality—all things that set the Iranian culture as truly special—had to take the back seat. The Iranian said, ‘I too have to become vicious or I’ll be left behind.’

“The [1979] revolution and events that followed—the war, the vicious street killings, and the way a minority got ahead at the expense of the rest of the country—all contributed to this change. People even learned to walk into offices and yell and make a scene to get their way.

“Really, people don’t know what else they can do to get ahead. They are like blind rats bouncing around in a maze, trying to find their way to this invisible prize. Time for wisdom and thought has long passed.

“I think driving in Iran is a mirror to this phenomenon. The guy sees with his own very eyes that there’s a kilometer of cars standing still in front of him, but he still honks his horn and yells obscenities. He’s in the maze, confined and angry. He wants out. He wants to go somewhere, anywhere other than where he is because he thinks doing something, anything will get him somewhere better. That’s what living without choices does to you.

“There’s a tiny space next to you and you need that space to turn toward your destination. But the guy behind you will do everything in the world to take that space and after he’s passed, the guy behind him follows. Absolutely no one will ever give you a break. Because in his mind he’s saying, ‘nobody ever has and ever will give me a break. Why should I give anyone else a break?’”

“You have people nearly running over an old woman their grandmother’s age but they laugh about it and don’t feel any remorse. To the contrary, they feel self-satisfied, like they just got ahead a little bit.

“This is something new. Iranians never terrorized each other to such degree. They’ve learned to do so.”

AE, college student:

“I don’t think we’re the same Iranians [who built the Persian Empire]. We have since mixed in with wild people, like the Mongols and the Arabs. The Persians who ruled the world are long gone. This is a different race.

“Driving in Iran is a reflection of people trying to feel powerful, trying to say, ‘I’m somebody too.’ This is how wild beings act; they don’t use their mouths; they use the pedal."

RT, businessman:

“You got to understand that there is a whole new class of people today who are behind the wheel. The guy was riding a donkey to his farm all his life. Then land prices skyrocket; he sells and comes to Tehran. Now he’s driving a Peugeot. But this Peugeot has never been part of his culture; it’s something he never dreamed of in his wildest imagination; he has no idea how to handle the change.

“All he knows is that when presses the pedal, there’s a roar and the faster he goes, the more attention he gets. For him, it’s like owning his own space ship. But he still doesn’t have any idea how to handle it."

SF, college student:

Being indifferent toward pedestrians “is the driver’s way of stating his superiority. He’s been on foot all his life taking it from the drivers. Now he’s behind the wheel himself and this is his way of saying, ‘I am somebody and you’re still a pedestrian.’”

GH, engineer:

“This is a cultural problem that goes back 70 years. From the beginning, when the automobile was introduced to us, we’ve never had the opportunity to learn the culture of driving as it should have been thought to us. They gave us the automobile but not the culture.”

SP, accountant:

“It all comes down to money and enforcement. There are a lot of laws on the books. In fact, we practically have every driving law conceivable. But what good is the law if it is not enforced?

“The government makes the laws but doesn’t spend the money to enforce them. So why should people obey the law if there’s no penalty for disobedience?

“It has nothing to do with culture. All people are self-interested beings; they are selfish by nature. Take away the penalty and all those beautiful highways you see in the West will be a mangled chaos in a day.”

MK, businessman:

"A new class of people gained incredible amounts of money. But those of higher class people, people with class, with old money, they either left the country or are rotting in the corner of the house. They left the arena.

"But new money that replaced them has no class, no education, no idea what's right and what's wrong."

Expect the Unexpected or You Won't Survive

Expect the unexpected; it's required to survive Iran's roads. An American greenhorn at the wheel, With driving instructor Shahraum Yousefian.

I have been driving for 27 years but only in the West. My father forced me to take 10 two-hour driving sessions “to learn to drive Iranian ... because it’s a matter of life or death.”

Here’s the speech I got on my first session from instructor Shahraum Yousefian, 40, before I got to turn on the engine:

“I’ve been on the streets doing this for 14 years. It doesn’t pay a lot and I could be doing more lucrative things. I do it because I love my job.

“The traffic laws are exactly the same as the ones in America and 52 other countries. Reality, obviously, is a little different.

“Driving in Iran is less about obeying the rules and more about zoorchepooni [using force] or you won’t get anywhere. You’ll be at the same intersection the rest of the day waiting for someone to let you in [to the traffic stream].

“The average driver has no concept of there being any rules of driving. He just spins the wheel and beeps trying to open the way for himself, like he’s in a bumper-cars ride, never looking in the mirror, never caring what happens to the other drivers.

“Then you got the jon-bauz who might be moaji. He is driving toward you and suddenly he thinks you’re an enemy patrol.

“You have to constantly watch the parked cars because they’ll move right into the traffic without any warning, without so much as a pause, without so much as a glance at the [rearview] mirror.

“You got the kid who is talking on his mobile parked on the side [cell phone use while driving is illegal in Iran], fighting with someone. Then he drops his mobile and launches right into the traffic on his way to fight with the guy he was talking to.

Expect the unexpected; bikes, motorcyles, pedestrians and cars co-exist on Iranian streets—barely though.

“The blinkers in the Iranian cars remain completely brand new during the entire life of the car. It might never be used.

“Mirrors—you’ve got cars missing mirrors on one side or both sides, or even the rearview mirror is gone. He drives around for years with absolutely no idea what’s behind him.

“So in Iran, you don’t just watch where you’re going. You also have to constantly watch others around you. Always expect the unexpected. Never, ever assume the other guy will obey the law or even show any common sense.

“Pedestrians and drivers are in a constant battle. Drivers treat pedestrians like other cars.

“The law says that even if there’s not a marked pedestrian crossing, the car should stop five meters before the intersection in anticipation of a pedestrian. In reality, drivers don’t respect the marked pedestrian crossings; they don't stop for other cars, let alone for pedestrians.

“If they do have to stop because of traffic, they’d stop right over the pedestrian crossing line. So the pedestrian, instead of walking straight, has to zigzag his way around the cars.

“The law says that you have to keep a car-length’s distance for every 15 kilometers of speed. Reality, of course, is different. When you can obey the law, but in most traffic you have to be content to just being able to see the rear wheels of the car in front of you. Otherwise people behind you will give you hell.

“Same with speed. Most of the time you have to forget about the speed limit. The people around you won’t let you.

“Never stop out of courtesy for others [pedestrians or cars] to pass. If you do, people behind you will hit you because they just don’t expect it.

“Also if the pedestrian is a woman, she’ll think you want to pick her up. Just the other day a woman cursed me because a student stopped to let her cross the street.

“Use your mirrors frequently, all three. You have to keep watching your back all the time or people will hit you.

“Going down a one-way street, you have to expect a 90-percent chance of a motorcycle and at least a 20-percent chance of a car coming right toward you, at full speed.

“My cousin grew up in Germany. When he came here, he’d go out and within 10 minutes he’d call on his mobile [phone] from the side of street and scream, ‘come get me. I can’t deal with these crazies’.”

The Quadruple Suicide Challenge

NOTE: This is a two-way road, not one-way, with actual Iranian drivers, presumably not just released from sanitarium, on the Feerouz-kooh road toward Tehran.

How many driving laws can be broken simultaneously? These brave Iranian drivers take the challenge.

A is a truck going its merry way uphill a two-lane highway, but not fast enough for the drivers behind it.

B sees an opening on the right side; it's the shoulder but in light of what's transpiring nearby, he'd qualify for a smartest-driver-of-the-year award.

C is passing A on the left, but not to be left outdone, D is passing to the left of C, spilling into the left shoulder.

E and F say, “If they can do it, why can’t we?” They line up behind C and D’s suicidal positions, having absolutely no idea what coming from the other side.

Here's what happens moments later:

Oops. Nearly got run over by a 10-ton truck. Oh, well; there’s always tomorrow to try to meet my maker.

Note: C, the only party that was not breaking any laws does not get past the obstacle.

Like a friend said, "People are conditioned to think that they have to be crazier, wilder, more daring than the next guy to get ahead.

"Maybe it was the [Iran-Iraq] war; all that jon-bauz stuff, all the carnage people saw. Maybe it's all the economic pressure, the poverty, the inability to express themselves, the daily grind of trying and trying and never ever getting ahead.

"But something in the Iranian psyche has changed. We're crazier, we're on the edge. We're willing to do anything now."

Video: Stop-and-Go All Day Long

Changing the System: One Lazy American at a Time

The piles of required documents were growing and I briefly considered buying a folder. Purchase of a folder turned out to be one of the requirements too. "Go buy a folder before I stamp this for you," I was told at the driving school.

I planned to write about the bureaucracy involved in getting an Iranian driver’s license, the four classroom sessions followed by ten 2-hour driving sessions; the visit to the eye doctor; the visit to bank to make multiple deposits; the visit to the photography studio; all the negotiations involved to prove that I have been exempted from military service; finding a substitute for my national ID card; filling out half-dozen forms and getting them stamped here and there; even the effort it took to figure out my postal code.

My story would’ve made the DMV in the U.S. look like ... eheeem ... the model of efficiency.

But now I am reluctant to make fun of the Iranian system because today the system worked. I failed the written exam, more than likely because I was too lazy to review the 180-page book.

The exam was difficult! Only 25 minutes for 30 questions, some cunningly designed to confuse:

Q: A car suddenly pulls in front of you from a side street. What should you do?

1. Flash your lights and get behind it.
2. Beep and pass it quickly.
3. Reduce your speed and get ready to stop.
4. Change lanes so you don’t hit it.

All of above applies. I don’t know how I could possibly pick just one.

I remembered our teacher during the first classroom session, a stiff no-nonsense retired colonel given to Patton-esq sermons on civilization.

“We are attempting to change this culture!” he roared.

I snickered at the time, but now I would give him the benefit of the doubt. Several other students failed too. We all have to keep taking the exam, at one-week intervals, until we pass and move on to the behind-the-wheel exam.

The list of documents required for a driver’s license (and not the recepie for the atom bomb), left; the wonderful women at the school; their helpfulness and willingness to overlook stupid-sounding things I sometimes unknowingly blurted out, kept me going.

Irony is everywhere; irony is coming out of my ears. The American with 27 years of driving experience and near-perfect record, can’t get the driver’s license of the country with the perhaps the world’s worst driving culture.

I tried to make an issue of the language. “You should have the exam in English too,” I protested, even though I had trouble with only a couple of the words. The examiner saw through my b.s. and told me to study harder.

It was the Iranian thing to do, though—to come up with any excuse to try to weasel my way through.

As I walked back home, I smiled as I remembered a relative's advice just the night before: “After a while, even the foreigner will start becoming a little Iranian. At first he resists. But a year later you see him driving against the traffic on a one-way street because he wants to get to his house quicker.

“Don’t try to change the system, Ali. Don’t compare us with America. When you come here, change your glasses and you’ll see things go smoother.

“And eventually,” he smiled, “you’ll start seeing a sort of chaotic order within the chaos.”