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Millionaire Mullahs
Paul Klebnikov,
07.21.03
http://www.forbes.com/global/2003/0721/024.html
A looming nuclear threat to the rest of the world, Iran is robbing its own
people of prosperity. But the men at the top are getting extremely rich.
It's rumble time in Tehran. At dozens of
intersections in the capital of Iran thousands of students are protesting on a
recent Friday around midnight, as they do nearly every night, chanting
pro-democracy slogans and lighting bonfires on street corners. Residents of
the surrounding middle-class neighborhoods converge in their cars, honking
their horns in raucous support.
Suddenly there's thunder in the air. A gang of 30
motorcyclists, brandishing iron bars and clubs, roars through the stalled
traffic. They glare at the drivers, yell threats, thump cars. Burly and
bearded, the bikers yank two men from their auto and pummel them. Most
protesters scatter. Uniformed policemen watch impassively as the thugs beat
the last stragglers.
These bikers are part of the Hezbollah militia,
recruited mostly from the countryside. Iran's ruling mullahs roll them out
whenever they need to intimidate their opponents. The Islamic Republic is a
strange dictatorship. As it moves to repress growing opposition to clerical
rule, the regime relies not on soldiers or uniformed police (many of whom
sympathize with the protesters) but on the bullies of Hezbollah and the
equally thuggish Revolutionary Guards. The powers that be claim to derive
legitimacy from Allah but remain on top with gangster like methods of
intimidation, violence and murder.
Who controls today's Iran? Certainly not Mohammad
Khatami, the twice-elected moderate president, or the reformist parliament.
Not even the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei--a stridently anti-American
but unremarkable cleric plucked from the religious ranks 14 years ago to fill
the shoes of his giant predecessor, Ayatollah Khomeini--is fully in control.
The real power is a handful of clerics and their associates who call the shots
behind the curtain and have gotten very rich in the process.
The economy bears more than a little resemblance to
the crony capitalism that sprouted from the wreck of the Soviet Union. The
1979 revolution expropriated the assets of foreign investors and the nation's
wealthiest families; oil had long been nationalized, but the mullahs seized
virtually everything else of value--banks, hotels, car and chemical companies,
makers of drugs and consumer goods. What distinguishes Iran is that many of
these assets were given to Islamic charitable foundations, controlled by the
clerics. According to businessmen and former foundation executives, the
charities now serve as slush funds for the mullahs and their supporters.
Iran has other lethal secrets besides its nuclear
program, now the subject of prying international eyes. Dozens of interviews
with businessmen, merchants, economists and former ministers and other top
government officials reveal a picture of a dictatorship run by a shadow
government that--the U.S. State Department suspects--finances terrorist groups
abroad through a shadow foreign policy. Its economy is dominated by shadow
business empires and its power is protected by a shadow army of enforcers.
Ironically, the man most adept at manipulating this
hidden power structure is one of Iran's best-known characters--Ali Akbar
Hashemi Rafsanjani, who has been named an ayatollah, or religious leader. He
was the speaker of parliament and Khomeini's right-hand man in the 1980s,
president of Iran from 1989 to 1997 and is now chairman of the powerful
Expediency Council, which resolves disputes between the clerical establishment
and parliament. Rafsanjani has more or less run the Islamic Republic for the
past 24 years.
He played it smart, aligning himself in the 1960s
with factions led by Ayatollah Khomeini, then becoming the go-to guy after the
revolution. A hard-liner ideologically, Rafsanjani nonetheless has a pragmatic
streak. He convinced Khomeini to end the Iran-Iraq war and broke Iran's
international isolation by establishing trade relations with the Soviet Union,
China, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. In the 1990s he restarted
Iran's nuclear program.
He is also the father of Iran's "privatization"
program. During his presidency the stock market was revived, some government
companies were sold to insiders, foreign trade was liberalized and the oil
sector was opened up to private companies. Most of the good properties and
contracts, say dissident members of Iran's Chamber of Commerce, ended up in
the hands of mullahs, their associates and, not least, Rafsanjani's family,
who rose from modest origins as pistachio farmers. "They were not rich people,
so they worked hard and always tried to help their relatives get ahead,"
remembers Reza, a historian who declines to use his last name and who studied
with one of Rafsanjani's brothers at Tehran University in the early 1970s.
"When they were in university, two brothers earned money on the side tutoring
theological students and preparing their exam papers."
The 1979 revolution transformed the Rafsanjani clan
into commercial pashas. One brother headed the country's largest copper mine;
another took control of the state-owned TV network; a brother-in-law became
governor of Kerman province, while a cousin runs an outfit that dominates
Iran's $400 million pistachio export business; a nephew and one of
Rafsanjani's sons took key positions in the Ministry of Oil; another son heads
the Tehran Metro construction project (an estimated $700 million spent so
far). Today, operating through various foundations and front companies, the
family is also believed to control one of Iran's biggest oil engineering
companies, a plant assembling Daewoo automobiles, and Iran's best private
airline (though the Rafsanjanis insist they do not own these assets).
None of this sits well with the populace, whose per
capita income is $1,800 a year. The gossip on the street, going well beyond
the observable facts, has the Rafsanjanis stashing billions of dollars in bank
accounts in Switzerland and Luxembourg; controlling huge swaths of waterfront
in Iran's free economic zones on the Persian Gulf; and owning whole vacation
resorts on the idyllic beaches of Dubai, Goa and Thailand.
But not much of the criticism makes its way into
print. One journalist who dared to investigate Rafsanjani's secret dealings
and his alleged role in extrajudicial killings of dissidents is now
languishing in jail. He's lucky. Iranian politics can be deadly. Five years
ago Tehran was rocked by murders of journalists and anti-corruption activists;
some were beheaded, others mutilated.
Some of the family's wealth is out there for all to
see. Rafsanjani's youngest son, Yaser, owns a 30-acre horse farm in the
super fashionable Lavasan neighborhood of north Tehran, where land goes for
over $4 million an acre. Just where did Yaser get his money? A
Belgian-educated businessman, he runs a large export-import firm that includes
baby food, bottled water and industrial machinery.
Until a few years ago the simplest way to get rich
quick was through foreign-currency trades.. Easy, if you could get greenbacks
at the subsidized import rate of 1,750 rials to the dollar and resell them at
the market rate of 8,000 to the dollar. You needed only the right connections
for an import license. "I estimate that, over a period of ten years, Iran lost
$3 billion to $5 billion annually from this kind of exchange-rate fraud," says
Saeed Laylaz, an economist, now with Iran's biggest carmaker. "And the lion's
share of that went to about 50 families."
One of the families benefiting from the foreign trade
system was the Asgaroladis, an old Jewish clan of bazaar traders, who
converted to Islam several generations ago. Asadollah Asgaroladi exports
pistachios, cumin, dried fruit, shrimp and caviar, and imports sugar and home
appliances; his fortune is estimated by Iranian bankers to be some $400
million. Asgaroladi had a little help from his older brother, Habibollah, who,
as minister of commerce in the 1980s, was in charge of distributing lucrative
foreign-trade licenses. (He was also a counterparty to commodities trader and
then-fugitive Marc Rich, who helped Iran bypass U.S.-backed sanctions.)
The other side of Iran's economy belongs to the
Islamic foundations, which account for 10% to 20% of the nation's GDP--$115
billion last year. Known as bonyads, the best-known of these outfits
were established from seized property and enterprises by order of Ayatollah
Khomeini in the first weeks of his regime. Their mission was to redistribute
to the impoverished masses the "illegitimate" wealth accumulated before the
revolution by "apostates" and "blood-sucking capitalists." And, for a decade
or so, the foundations shelled out money to build low-income housing and
health clinics. But since Khomeini's death in 1989 they have increasingly
forsaken their social welfare functions for straightforward commercial
activities.
Until recently they were exempt from taxes, import
duties and most government regulation. They had access to subsidized foreign
currency and low-interest loans from state-owned banks. And they were not
accountable to the Central Bank, the Ministry of Finance or any other
government institution. Formally, they are under the jurisdiction of the
Supreme Leader; effectively, they operate without any oversight, answerable
only to Allah.
According to Shiite Muslim tradition, devout
businessmen are expected to donate 20% of profits to their local mosques,
which use the money to help the poor. By contrast, many bonyads seem like
rackets, extorting money from entrepreneurs. Besides the biggest national
outfits, almost every Iranian town has its own bonyad, affiliated with local
mullahs. "Many small businessmen complain that as soon as you start to make
some money, the leading mullah will come to you and ask for a contribution to
his local charity," says an opposition economist, who declines to give his
name. "If you refuse, you will be accused of not being a good Muslim. Some
witnesses will turn up to testify that they heard you insult the Prophet
Mohammad, and you will be thrown in jail."
Other charities resemble multinational conglomerates.
The Mostazafan & Jambazan Foundation (Foundation for the Oppressed and War
Invalids) is the second-largest commercial enterprise in the country, behind
the state-owned National Iranian Oil Co. Until recently it was run by a man
named Mohsen Rafiqdoost. The son of a vegetable-and-fruit merchant at the
Tehran bazaar, Rafiqdoost got his big break in 1979, when he was chosen to
drive Ayatollah Khomeini from the airport after his triumphal return from
exile in Paris.
Khomeini made him Minister of the Revolutionary
Guards to quash internal dissent and smuggle in weapons for the Iran-Iraq war.
In 1989, when Rafsanjani became president, Rafiqdoost gained control of the
Mostazafan Foundation, which employs up to 400,000 workers and has assets that
in all probability exceed $10 billion.
Theoretically the Mostazafan Foundation is a social
welfare organization. By 1996 it began taking government funds to cover
welfare disbursements; soon it plans to spin off its social responsibilities
altogether, leaving behind a purely commercial conglomerate owned by--whom?
That is not clear. Why does this foundation exist? "I don't know--ask Mr.
Rafiqdoost," says Abbas Maleki, a foreign policy adviser to Ayatollah
Rafsanjani.
A picture emerges from one Iranian businessman who
used to handle the foreign trade deals for one of the big foundations.
Organizations like the Mostazafan serve as giant cash boxes, he says, to pay
off supporters of the mullahs, whether they're thousands of peasants bused in
to attend religious demonstrations in Tehran or Hezbollah thugs who beat up
students. And, not least, the foundations serve as cash cows for their
managers.
"It usually works like this," explains this
businessman. "Some foreigner comes in, proposes a deal to the foundation head.
The big boss says: ‘Fine. I agree. Work out the details with my
administrator.' So the foreigner goes to see the administrator, who tells him:
‘You know that we have two economies here--official and unofficial. You have
to be part of the unofficial economy if you want to be successful. So, you
have to deposit the following amount into the following bank account abroad
and then the deal will go forward.'"
Today Rafiqdoost heads up the Noor Foundation, which
owns apartment blocks and makes an estimated $200 million importing
pharmaceuticals, sugar and construction materials. He is quick to downplay his
personal wealth. "I am just a normal person, with normal wealth," he says.
Then, striking a Napoleonic pose, he adds: "But if Islam is threatened, I will
become big again."
Implication: He has access to a secret reservoir of
money that can be tapped when the need arises. That may have been what
Ayatollah Rafsanjani had in mind when he declared recently that the Islamic
Republic needed to keep large funds in reserve. But who is to determine when
Islam is in danger?
As minister of the Revolutionary Guards in the 1980s,
Rafiqdoost played a key role in sponsoring Hezbollah in Lebanon--which
kidnapped foreigners, hijacked airplanes, set off car bombs, trafficked in
heroin and pioneered the use of suicide bombers. According to Gregory
Sullivan, spokesman for the Near Eastern Affairs Bureau at the U.S. State
Department, the foundations are the perfect vehicles to carry out Iran's
shadow foreign policy. Whenever suspicion of complicity in a terrorist
incident turns to Iran, the Tehran government has denied involvement. State
Department officials suspect that such operations may be sponsored by one of
the foundations and semiautonomous units of the Revolutionary Guards.
Iran's foundations are a law unto themselves. The
largest "charity" (at least in terms of real estate holdings) is the
centuries-old Razavi Foundation, charged with caring for Iran's most revered
shrine--the tomb of Reza, the Eighth Shiite Imam, in the northern city of
Mashhad. It is run by one of Iran's leading hard-line mullahs, Ayatollah
Vaez-Tabasi, who prefers to stay out of the public eye but emerges
occasionally to urge death to apostates and other opponents of the clerical
regime.
The Razavi Foundation owns vast tracts of urban real
estate all across Iran, as well as hotels, factories, farms and quarries. Its
assets are impossible to value with any precision, since the foundation has
never released an inventory of its holdings, but Iranian economists speak of a
net asset value of $15 billion or more. The foundation also receives generous
contributions from the millions of pilgrims who visit the Mashhad shrine each
year.
What happens to annual revenues estimated in the
hundreds of millions--perhaps billions--of dollars? Not all of it goes to
cover the maintenance costs of mosques, cemeteries, religious schools and
libraries. Over the past decade the foundation has bought new businesses and
properties, established investment banks (together with investors from Saudi
Arabia and the United Arab Emirates) and financed big foreign trade deals.
The driving force behind the commercialization of the
Razavi Foundation is Ayatollah Tabasi's son, Naser, who was put in charge of
the Sarakhs Free Trade Zone, on the border with the former Soviet republic of
Turkmenistan. In the 1990s the foundation poured hundreds of millions of
dollars into this project, funding a rail link between Iran and Turkmenistan,
new highways, an international airport, a hotel and office buildings.
Then it all went wrong. In July 2001 Naser Tabasi was
dismissed as director of the Free Trade Zone. Two months later he was arrested
and charged with fraud in connection with a Dubai-based company called Al-Makasib.
The details remain murky, but four months ago the General Court of Tehran
acquitted him.
Meanwhile the clerical elite has mismanaged the
nation into senseless poverty. With 9% of the world's oil and 15% of its
natural gas, Iran should be a very rich country. It has a young, educated
population and a long tradition of international commerce. But per capita
income today is 7% below what it was before the revolution. Iranian economists
estimate capital flight (to Dubai and other safe havens) at up to $3 billion a
year.
No wonder so many students turn to the streets in
protest. The dictatorship has been robbing them of their future.
Discontent Unveiled
Disaffected, denied opportunity and just plain bored, Iran's youth have
taken their frustrations with the clerics' regime to the streets. |
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Iran |
U.S. |
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| Population |
67 million |
283 million |
| Percent under 25 |
65% |
35% |
| GDP per capita |
$1,800 |
$37,000 |
| Inflation |
25% |
2% |
| Unemployment |
18% |
6% |
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