Teddy Schwarzman in conversation with tara kangarlou on ‘the heartbeat of iran’

Tara Kangarlou, left, is the author of the newly released book The Heartbeat of Iran, available on Amazon.

Pacific Council Director Teddy Schwarzman discusses the recently released book “The Heartbeat of Iran” with author and journalist Tara Kangarlou in this Q&A.

Teddy Schwarzman: When Americans think of Iran, many immediately think of the nuclear deal, or some cliche stereotype or the Islamic regime; but in reading your book, I found myself surprised, and in ways immersed in a world that I’ve never seen before. What prompted you to write this book — why now?

Tara Kangarlou: I was born and raised in Iran in the late 80s and moved to the States in 2003. Growing up, I found myself living between two estranged worlds, and as I said in the introduction of my book, “I felt like a child of divorced parents…I loved both places and belonged to both, but the two did not see eye to eye and continue to be engaged in an ongoing animosity.”

Years later, when I decided to pursue journalism and break into the mainstream American news market, I realized the undeniable void of a textured and nuanced narrative on Iran—especially on ordinary Iranian people. Pretty much everything we hear on Iran comes through the filters of news, policy wonks, and sound bites. And for a country that has over 3,000 years of history, I don’t think it’s fair that the American viewers strictly associate Iran and Iranians with “rogue behavior”, “Hezbollah”, “a nuclear bomb”, or an angry-looking man whose name they can’t even pronounce. In tandem, even though I was a U.S. citizen since birth and traveled back and forth since early on — I still found myself having to constantly explain, and at times, defend my identity and upbringing in Iran. I don’t think there’s anything more daunting and, at points humiliating, than having your identity constantly questioned by people whose view of your home country or place of birth is framed by insular stereotypes that only tell a slice of the full story. So in short, my own personal immigrant journey and constant battle in dismantling basic stereotypes against Iranians entwined with my work as an American journalist, and witnessing the very narrow lens into Iran, were among the principal reasons as to why I decided to write The Heartbeat of Iran.

The book is not just a collection of personal profiles nor a rosy picture of the country; but rather, it’s a multi-faceted narrative that exposes an Iran within Iran, within Iran, within Iran, through the realities of life of its ordinary citizens, which allows you to consequently separate them from the government. For instance, when you read about Hassan Rezania, you don’t just get to learn about a saffron farmer, but rather get to understand the country’s environmental challenges, the devastating impact of sanctions along with domestic corruption on the economy, the struggle of keeping the past and striving for a new life, and ultimately a young man’s devotion to his family business and an industry that’s part of the fabric of Iran’s history.

Every single chapter unpacks layers and layers of social, cultural, historical, and political nuances that are not commonly known by western readers and more so, rarely talked about in the mainstream. At a time when the world is grappling with so much bigotry, populism, and social divides, I felt the need to bring out people’s shared humanity through storytelling — in this case, the people of Iran.

Has there ever been a specific story or narrative on Iran that has particularly bothered you over the years? Both personally as an Iranian-born and professionally as an American journalist?

For me, Iran is a country of 80 million human beings rather than 80 million nuclear heads; and that’s a narrative we’re missing on Iran. Unfortunately, anything that has been produced on Iran since 1979 — whether be in Hollywood, mass media, or in the news — has often solely focused on the hostage crisis, the nuclear issue, and the “rogue” behavior of the governing regime. As a journalist, I fundamentally believe that stories should be about people, and no matter where I’m reporting from, I do care about understanding the intricacies of life of everyday people. And that’s what I aimed to produce with my book—the ability for my readers to see Iran beyond the stereotypes and the one-dimensional narratives that exist, and ultimately understand that this nation and its history didn’t just start in the winter of 1979.

I believe that if we don’t tell our own stories, someone else will tell that story for us, and it may not be a story that we like, nor one that is accurate. So as an Iranian woman, I felt the need to do so, and as an American journalist, I saw the void and was fortunate to know how to use my craft to make it palpable to my audience in the West.

Both you and I know the enormous power and impact of stories and storytelling. What do you think has been the danger in this lack of “diversified” storytelling on Iran; and the sort of insular narrative that the West has of Post-Revolution Iran? How can storytelling impact policymaking?

I think it’s fair to say that conflict often ensues when two people’s or two party’s beliefs, values, and intentions are anonymous or unclear to one another. Not knowing creates fear, and fear creates tension, and that tension can eventually turn into rage, conflict, and war. However, when people in the U.S. or anywhere else in the world learn about the realities of life of their counterparts (the people) in another country, there is only good that can come from that people-to-people exchange, and that newly gained perspective and outlook. As Kazuo Ishugaru so eloquently said in his Nobel acceptance speech, “Stories are about one person saying to another: This is the way it feels to me. Can you understand what I’m saying? Does it feel this way to you?”

When policymakers know more about a country’s people and are able to distinguish them from their government, that’s when they can make better decisions. When policymakers see a nation through a humanized lens rather than a militarized regime, that’s when they can forge a path to long-lasting change.

What are the dangers of having singular narratives about more isolated countries when it comes to political decision-making?

No country, community, or family on earth has a single narrative. There are layers and layers of nuance embedded in every person’s story and unless we know of all these layers, we can never be able to make the right decisions about our attitude or response to that person or country. It’s the same with seeing and hearing “singular narratives” about places like Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Yemen, etc.

Beyond threatening rhetorics, power-politics, death tolls, and airstrikes live millions of ordinary human beings whose stories should be heard and should be at the forefront of all decision-making and response from global leaders.

The stories you capture in the book are universal stories of hope, love, fear, and at times loss— all of which are brought to life by real, everyday Iranians. What was it like interviewing these people? Can you share any particularly emotional moment(s) or perhaps instances that made you more adamant in wanting to complete this book?

The book is made up of intimate vignettes of life that are all interconnected by universal themes that revolve around people’s worries and fears, dreams and hopes, and the ever-present struggles of survival and growth that can exist in any country in any part of the world. Personally, after completing each chapter, I would take a step back and deeply lament the sheer fact that this person, these people, and this nation deserve so much more — so much more than what they’re getting from their own government and also power players around the world.

Based on what you’ve experienced both growing up in Iran and reporting in the region - how do you see the future of the Middle East? Are there ways you want to see U.S. foreign policy change toward the region or Iran specifically?

You know, in the time I spent in the Middle East I’ve learned that so many people on the ground believe that “western countries” don’t particularly care for the people, nor their policies stem from their concern for “democracy” or the well-being of civil society; rather, it all comes down to their interests and gains. Iranians are perhaps some of the most “pro-American” people in the region; but while they like their American counterparts, they have learned — through history — that the United States’ decisions are not based on the well-being of the Iranian people, but rather its own interest.  For ordinary people in Iran, they’re being punched by the regime at home and those abroad.

Growing up as an Iranian-American, how did you maneuver between your Iranian upbringing and your American identity?

I wouldn’t say that it was an easy journey. I moved to the United States permanently in 11th grade and continued in a Seventh Day Adventist high school. I remember my second or third period was called “Corinthians” and I knew it was a religion class. Growing up in Iran, I was used to “Religion and Quran” classes during which so many of us would secretly do our math or physics homework underneath the table, or completely phase out and read a coming-of-age novel that we were hiding over our textbooks. But in Pastor Marks’ class, the students were actually listening and taking notes. It was right then and there that I thought to myself, “wow, these American people are also religious. How interesting; I thought religion is only imposed by the government like those in Iran.”

Throughout my personal journey in the U.S. as a teen up until finishing graduate school and later immersing myself in journalism, I constantly tried to draw comparisons and parallels between my upbringing in Iran and life in the U.S. It was in those commonalities that I wanted to find a bridge, a shared point that I could talk about with my American counterparts who knew so little about Iran. However, maneuvering this path was no easy task, but one that made me realize that people — no matter where they’re from or how they were raised — have so much more in common than what they think or are told. If only we open our eyes to see these points; if only we develop the curiosity to find them.

—

Tara Kangarlou is an award-winning journalist who has reported, written, and produced breaking news, investigative pieces, and broadcast stories for NBC-LA, CNN, CNN International and Al Jazeera America. Her writing and reporting have also appeared in digital news outlets such as TIME, Vanity Fair, Huffington Post, and Al Monitor. She previously served as a fellow at the East West Institute, is a contributor to Al Jazeera, and a frequent commentator on various news outlets covering the MENA region and humanitarian issues worldwide. In 2015, she led Al Jazeera America's team with unprecedented access to report from inside Iran during the nuclear negotiations. In recent years, she has reported extensively from the Syrian border regions of Lebanon, Turkey and Jordan covering issues that impact Syrian refugees, host countries, and the Middle East at large. In 2016, she founded Art of Hope, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting the psychosocial and mental health needs of refugees in Lebanon. Tara was born and raised in Tehran and is fully bilingual in English and Farsi. Tara has BA in English from UCLA and an MA in Journalism from USC.

Teddy Schwarzman serves as President & CEO of Black Bear Pictures, a Los Angeles-based entertainment company focused on creating original and engaging content for film and television. A member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and the Producers Guild of America, Schwarzman also sits on the Board of Directors of Elevation Pictures, one of Canada’s leading film and television distributors. Schwarzman also serves on the Board of Directors of the Schwarzman Scholars graduate program based at Tsinghua University in Beijing, China, and on the Board of Visitors of Duke University School of Law. In addition, Schwarzman sits on the Leadership Committee of the antipiracy nonprofit, CreativeFuture, and is part of the Hammer Museum’s Hammer Circle. Schwarzman earned a Bachelor of Arts from the University of Pennsylvania, and a Juris Doctor (cum laude) from Duke University School of Law. He is on the Board of Directors of the Pacific Council on International Policy.