Fissures leave Iran's opposition movement adrift

Some in the opposition movement want to do away with clerical rule, but others favor gradual changes. (Associated Press)

"We are united against the government, but we have different thoughts on how far we should go," said Mehdi, a blogger who attended the Nov. 4 demonstrations. "Tearing down pictures of the leader goes too far in this society; the Islamic system has many good points. . . . Our opponents hope that we act extreme so that they can label us as anti-revolution."

Others disagreed, saying all forms of peaceful protests must be allowed.

"We need to show that we are not afraid of anybody and continue to inform people of what is happening in this society," said Paria, 28, a linguist who has participated in all the opposition demonstrations.

The "green movement," as the opposition has become known since adopting Mousavi's campaign color, is a broad but loosely connected alliance that includes clerics, politicians, disgruntled middle-class families and young people. Some adherents are secular, others religious. Many are youths who feel tremendous pressure over losing their few personal freedoms to renewed government attempts to control their private lives.

They use the Internet, leaflets, graffiti and networks of family and friends to organize demonstrations, which security forces have not been able to prevent.

But the lack of leadership and clear goals, combined with the ambiguous position of the defeated candidates in the political system they now attack and the impossibility of resolving policy disputes through public debate, have made the opposition's next moves highly unpredictable.

"Our movement is like a body without a head," Paria said. "Real leaders need to emerge from it. Otherwise, we can go to hell or to heaven in the future."

Ali, the newlywed architect, said he also fears for Iran's future. During the Nov. 4 demonstrations, he and his wife became separated when a squad of "gladiators," as he called the riot police, started chasing them down the tree-lined Vali-e Asr Avenue, he said. Desperately looking for her amid the chaos of tear gas, baton-wielding security forces and running people, he eventually found her cornered by police, who let her go. But the ordeal led him to make a sad conclusion.

"That made me realize that I am hesitant to give my wife's or my own life for a movement with undefined aims," Ali said.

"Nobody knows what will happen," he said. "We all are the leaders of this movement, but we don't have a clue where we are taking it."