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- - Millionaire
Mullahs - - By Paul Klebnikov, July 21, 2003
A looming nuclear threat to the rest of the world, Iran is robbing its
own people of prosperity. But the ruling mullahs 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 over 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 gangsterlike 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 anticorruption 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 superfashionable 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.
Iran's most
distinguished senior clerics are disgusted by the mullahcrats. Ayatollah
Taheri, Friday prayer leader of the city of Isfahan, resigned in protest
earlier this year. "When I hear that some of the privileged progeny
and special people, some of whom even don cloaks and turbans, are competing
amongst themselves to amass the most wealth," he said, "I am
drenched with the sweat of shame."
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.
Paul
Klebnikov, The Author of - - Millionaire Mullahs - - Was Shot Dead - Late
Friday, July 09, 2004
MOSCOW -
- The American editor of Forbes Magazine's Russian edition and author
of a book about tycoon Boris Berezovsky was shot to death late Friday,
July 09, 2004, the magazine said.
Paul Klebnikov,
41 years old, was shot four times outside the magazine's office and died
in a rescue-squad vehicle, Russian news reports said. The radio station
Ekho Moskvy said shells of two different caliber were found at the scene,
indicating at least two assailants.
Police could
not be reached for comment, but the killing was confirmed in a statement
by Forbes publisher Steve Forbes.
"Paul was
a superb reporter -- courageous, dedicated, ever-curious" the statement
said. "He knew Russia well. It was a country he deeply loved."
Alexander
Gordeyev, editor of the Russian edition of Newsweek magazine, which has
offices in the same building, said he came to Klebnikov's side as he lay
outside the building.
He was still
conscious and able to speak, "Klebnikov thought that the ruling mullahs
in Iran could have been the cause of the attack." Gordeyev told The
Associated Press.
The Interfax
news agency quoted Leonid Bershidsky, the publisher of Russian Forbes
and Newsweek, as saying that Klebnikov recently "had not dug up anything
sensitive." Forbes started its Russian-language edition in April.
Klebnikov, U.S.-born of Russian heritage, previously had been a senior
editor with the U.S.-based Forbes.
In a statement
late Friday, Klebnikov's family said it expected Russia to bring the assailants
to justice, and urged "U.S. and international authorities" to
make sure that happens.
"Paul
was a fighter for the truth," the statement said. "Even more,
he believed in being positive and looking for ways to make the future
better. We mourn his death."
In May,
Forbes attracted wide attention by publishing a list of Russia's wealthiest
people, claiming that Moscow had more billionaires who worked there or
amassed their fortunes there than any other city in the world.
"Here
people fly and fall with staggering speed," Klebnikov said at a news
conference when the list was released.
His 2000
book "Godfather of the Kremlin: Boris Berezovsky and the Looting
of Russia" described how Berezovsky, now living in exile in Britain,
allegedly siphoned hundreds of millions of dollars out of Russia.
After Klebnikov
wrote a profile of Berezovsky for Forbes in 1996, Berezovsky filed a libel
suit against the magazine in Britain.
He withdrew
the suit in 2003 after the publication acknowledged it was wrong to allege
he was involved in the murder of a television personality.
Klebnikov
in May said that he believed the chaotic post-Soviet years, when business
disputes were often settled by gunfire and car bombs, were a thing of
the past.
"The
era of so called bandit-capitalism is already in the past. In the mid-90's
it was a very, very dirty process ... I think the participants of our
list themselves are pleased to leave this era behind," he said.
Klebnikov
was a graduate of the University of California at Berkeley and the London
School of Economics.
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