The Ali Karimis of This World and the Trap of Division

A question has been on my mind for some time: when people have pinned their hopes on freedom, why do some of those who see themselves as part of that struggle attack one another instead of helping everyone break free? Are these arguments bringing us any closer to escape, or pulling the trap's ropes tighter?

The question took on renewed urgency for me when I saw a post about resistance and its cost. It said that prescriptions for resistance are issued from behind executives' desks, while ordinary people's share of resistance is poverty and hardship, and some leaders' share is comfort and prosperity. These words cannot be attributed to a particular person without evidence. But the question they raise matters: to what extent do those who call on people to act and resist accept responsibility for the consequences?

In two earlier articles for Gooya News, I wrote about distractions and the way attention drifts from the central goal. Recent behaviour and disputes, including remarks by Mr Ali Karimi, have led me back to the same concern. I do not want to follow the story of every post and response. I have my own goal, and I believe I am doing the right thing. For Iran's freedom, I will endure any insult or abuse; I will bear no resentment towards any individual or group, nor am I seeking a sideshow. My concern, however, is what these mutual attacks do to cooperation and people's hopes.

Where is the line between criticism and character assassination?

People have the right to criticise any political figure, whether the prince and members of his team, Ali Karimi and others like him, or other well-known personalities. But criticism is different from labelling people and making accusations.

For example, Radio Farda reported in July 2024 that Karimi had described critics of the Pahlavi family and the prince as either beneficiaries of the Islamic Republic or people responsible for bringing it into being, saying there was no third option. Rather than answering criticism, such a sweeping generalisation confronts the critic with a serious accusation. Opposition to a political figure is not, by itself, evidence of affiliation or complicity.

In another dispute, Karimi said his disagreement was not with the prince personally, but with conduct that, he said, was being directed by the head of the prince's office and led to exclusion and character assassination. This claim must be assessed against the evidence. Just as people have the right to criticise members of a team, Karimi's own words and behaviour are also open to criticism. But when both sides descend into arguments and accusations instead of clarifying their claims, the central question is pushed aside.

The doves and the black net

In Kalila and Dimna, there is a story about a flock of doves that land in search of grain and become caught in a hunter's net. Each is worried about its own escape, but the leader suggests that they all flap their wings together and lift the net off the ground. The doves coordinate their movements and carry the net away. A mouse then gnaws through the cords and sets them free.

The doves in this story do not all behave in the same way. One sees the danger and calls on the others to cooperate; another may think only of saving itself. And if, instead of flapping their wings, the doves peck at one another, the net becomes heavier and will not lift off the ground.

We can look at political behaviour in the same way: there are those who clarify disagreements through evidence-based criticism; those who make accusations instead of answering; those who divert debate from the common goal through attacks and ridicule; and those who try to keep the path to dialogue and cooperation open. These roles do not belong permanently to particular names or identities. Any individual or group may, in a given situation, come close to any of these ways of behaving.

In this analogy, the black net is the trap of division and distraction. Personal attacks and labelling are the ropes that pull it to the ground. But the analogy does not tell us to abandon criticism or all follow one person. Disagreement is not the trap. Becoming incapable of cooperation because we tear one another down is the trap.

Are we lifting the net?

Mr Karimi and everyone involved in these disputes should ask themselves: do our words and actions help loosen the trap? Do they bring people closer to understanding and cooperation, or entangle them in a conflict whose only outcome is exhaustion and mistrust?

Calling on people to resist without being accountable for the costs and consequences is irresponsible. Likewise, criticism that turns into threats, insults and unsubstantiated accusations does not help freedom. We must both demand responsibility from those who invite people onto a costly path and take care not to pull the trap's ropes tighter ourselves by attacking others.

The doves in the story were freed when they flapped their wings together. The people of Iran are not meant to pay the price of victory for a single individual or group. When freedom comes, they must be able to decide their country's future for themselves. That leaves the final question: are we flapping our wings together to lift the net, or pinning it to the ground with our disputes?