To the Editor:

By concluding that the revolution in Iran might have been avoided had the Shah used his discretionary powers properly, Walter Laqueur [“Why the Shah Fell,” March] attempts to provide a political answer to the political question, what made the regime weak enough to be toppled? His answer is predicated on the assumption that political successes and failures are attributable far more to acts of statesmanship than to exterior—social, economic, or cultural—forces. This means that political actions are not always affected by historical or other forms of necessity. The Shah had choices to make and some of his actions were, one might say, impolitic; he failed to convince his opposition that the problems of Iran were administrative or managerial, and thus did not require a radical solution.

Regarding the Shah’s opposition, Mr. Laqueur argues that he should have exercised one of two reasonable options: either increase the political access of his enemies (especially those who, as a result of government policies, had become déclassé) or kill them. He did neither. In suggesting these options, Mr. Laqueur seems to believe that it was possible for the former to occur without undermining the Shah’s claim as the legitimate ruler in Iran. But it, is doubtful that any ruler who comes to power and who preserves his power for such a long time by what one might call “unpopular” (or should I say “criminal”?) actions could ever take the first step in changing the form of his regime without imperiling his position. There is always the problem of what to do with the overly ambitious who, once given an opportunity for political advancement, will strive to tyrannize others, particularly those who formerly ruled them. In directing our attention to the effect of envy and ambition in politics, Mr. Laqueur shows himself to be most sensitive to this question.

It is precisely because he recognizes the role of what the ancient Greeks called thymos (spiritedness) that Mr. Laqueur refers to those whose analyses of Iran were based on generally accepted prejudices as “myth-makers.” Such people appear to be everywhere, including Iran. We get a sense of this in Mr. Laqueur’s argument that the failure of the Shah resembles the failure of these Western analysts. If some myths are ennobling, others can be destructive, especially when they inform government policies. This is what seems to account for Mr. Laqueur’s criticism of “the Shah and his technocrats.” . . .

We seem to have technocrats of our own, and Mr. Laqueur appears to be making a more general attack on what might be called the “intelligence community,” including government agents and advisers, plus the scientifically-oriented academic institutions that provide these personnel with their training and some of their research. If the Shah depended on technical expertise at the expense of statesmanship until it was too late, what are we to think about our own governmental advisers—that armada of policymakers, weighed down with the authority of science, believing that politics can be guided by reason, if not made scientific? In the past two or three decades, American foreign and domestic policies have been steered by members of the “intelligence community,” whose aim is, through scientific management, to obviate the demands of statesmanship, and thereby, of politics. The most disturbing effect of this group on political life has been to “soften and enervate courage [rather] than strengthen and animate it,” and to forget the very elements of politics that Mr. Laqueur brings to our attention in his article.

Mr. Laqueur’s political analysis of Iran reveals the Shah as a man who sought to be a Kantian ruler with nationalist intent. He failed because his technocrats, perhaps like ours, had a model of empire of their own.

Martin J. Plax
Cleveland, Ohio