Why is the conflict between the United States and the Islamic Republic of Iran (IRI) so durable and impassioned? Hussein Banai, Malcolm Byrne, and John Tirman correctly contend in Republics of Myth: National Narratives and the US-Iran Conflict that pragmatic interests are inadequate to explain the enduring hostility that emanates from both sides. Instead, diametrically opposed national narratives have trapped the protagonists in a cycle of distrust and demonization and caused them to miss multiple opportunities to build a more normal relationship since the 1979 revolution.
According to the authors, Iran’s complex national narrative draws upon a few key historical themes and identity elements. These include the greatness of ancient Persia, which should accord contemporary Iran respect and centrality in regional affairs; centuries of foreign rule, exploitation, and interference by Arabs, Turks, Russians, Brits, and even Americans (see the 1953 coup); and the themes of victimhood, resistance, and martyrdom associated with Shi’a Islam. These interwoven threads produce a narrative that leads Iran to strongly resist American hegemony and coercive diplomacy and to demand tangible manifestations of respect as conditions for improved relations. Meanwhile, the United States views Iran through the prism of the frontier narrative. Where Iran sees righteous resistance to imperialism, America sees irrationality and savagery that cannot be negotiated with and must be tamed in the name of Enlightenment values, even if through violence and coercion. The authors suggest that the same violent exceptionalism that informed historical actions taken against the Native Americans informs the United States’ Iran policy today (p. 40).
Republics of Myth is an excellent, albeit imperfect book. Its most important contribution is its case for a constructivist framing of the US-Iran relationship. The authors draw skillfully upon the literature on political narratives and nationalism. All countries construct narratives as a component of national identity, but “only some narratives,” they argue, citing Ronald Krebs, “become dominant, an accepted ‘common sense’ about the world, and thus set the boundaries of what actors can legitimately articulate in public, what they can collectively (though not individually) imagine, and what is politically possible” (p. 25). In the case of the United States and Iran, it does appear that entrenched narrative talking points in both countries have taken on the trappings of “common sense,” leading to confirmation bias about the danger of dealing with the other and making a more normal relationship impossible. The authors show that where leaders such as Rafsanjani, Khatami, Clinton, and Obama recognized the flaws in this “common sense,” they were constrained from leading more vigorous, government-wide action toward the rapprochement they individually imagined, often resorting to hostile, countervailing rhetoric or actions to placate domestic audiences.
Indeed, a second major achievement of Republics of Myth is its detailed historical accounting of the last four decades of fitful diplomacy between Tehran and Washington. Even well-read aficionados of US-Iran relations will gain new insight into the failed diplomatic endeavors of the last 40 years. The authors draw on policy makers’ and diplomats’ testimony from a series of critical oral history conferences convened at MIT as well as primary documents. Material associated with their project is available to the public (http://us-iran.mit.edu). Regardless of one’s disposition toward the book’s central argument about narratives, Republics of Myth is worth reading for the diplomatic history alone.
Despite the book’s virtues, not all parts are equally well-argued, and more could be done, theoretically and empirically, to strengthen our understanding of how narratives inform US policy toward Iran. The Iranian narrative of victimization and resistance is more convincing than the American frontier narrative in which the authors see so much explanatory power. That the United States has historically been inclined to intervene abroad in support of ostensibly universal values is indisputable. That these interventions have sometimes been ill-advised, unwelcome, and hypocritical is also hard to dispute. But to draw a straight line from the near extermination of the Native Americans to US policy on Iran—a country and a people that America does not wish to occupy or exterminate—requires better justification. If prejudice against non-White, non-Western, or non-Christian actors is determinative, the book fails to explain the variation in US foreign policy toward other oft-uncooperative states that fit this profile. Why is the American animus toward Iran so uniquely intense? The frontier narrative seems insufficient, if not inappropriate.
One explanation for the stark animus toward Iran is the embassy hostage crisis of 1979–81. The authors emphasize this event as foundational; along with subsequent acts of terror and other rogue behaviors, it established the IRI as savage. Yet, rather than link this event to the savages of the frontier narrative, one can simply situate the event in a constructivist model wherein early encounters between actors generate intersubjective meaning. As the authors note, the United States was open to building a positive relationship with the revolutionary order emerging in 1979. From the US standpoint, revolutionary Iran was a blank slate. Sadly, America’s formative experience with this new entity was the hostage crisis, and as the saying goes, you never get a second chance to make a first impression. According to constructivist international relations theory, narratives about a relationship emerge endogenously from the parties’ interactions. Exogenous narratives may supplement endogenous intersubjective meaning construction, but they are not necessary. Despite their focus on exogenous national narratives, Banai, Byrne, and Tirman express their desire to delineate a shared narrative between Iran and the United States. It is thus unfortunate that they do not address intersubjective meaning construction or do more to draw upon constructivist models of international relations.
Republics of Myth would also benefit from more empirical measurement of narratives. For example, a content analysis of major American news media from the 1990s and early 2000s shows that Iran is painted in American public discourse as a fanatical, hostage-taking, terror-sponsoring, weapons of mass destruction–seeking entity apparently lacking legitimate geopolitical grievances or interests; however, there is statistically significant difference between actual terrorist attacks attributed to Iran and stories about Iran as a sponsor of terrorism (Christopher J. Ferrero, “The Iran Narrative: The Ideational Context of US Foreign Policy Decision-Making toward the Islamic Republic of Iran,” Iran and the Caucasus 17, 2013). I agree with the authors that an American narrative of Iran exists and appears to be wholly internalized by some American decision makers and acts as a political constraint on those who might wish to challenge it. But more work lies ahead to empirically analyze how the narrative manifests in contemporary discourse, to determine how it impacts policy relative to objective geopolitical interests, and finally, to consider how narratives interact with the complex, decentralized foreign policy decision-making structures in both Tehran and Washington. Through their excellent historical accounting, Banai, Byrne, and Tirman have laid a foundation suggesting that narratives in the United States and Iran are especially potent due to the nature of their political systems, both of which distribute power and influence in foreign policy making. Republics of Myth is not the last word on narratives and US-Iran relations. However, it should inspire readers to challenge and build upon its arguments in pursuit of the worthwhile goal of a more normal and peaceful relationship between two impassioned adversaries.
