Brace for a popular-unpopular opinion: I don’t like to be reminded of the fact that
I’m a “millennial.”
For one thing, generational monikers are a weird rhetorical
device in that they force a common identity across diverse demographic swathes.
But the term ‘millennial’ in particular has a singular laziness, a dogwhistle
that implies self-congratulatory savvy and tolerance when used by the young,
and frivolousness, entitlement, and narcisissm when uttered (invariably in a
chiding tone) by the old. To avoid the term, I’ve even downloaded a Chrome
extension to automatically replace the word itself wherever I come across it in
terrible thinkpieces (my coworker opted for one that uses “pesky
whipper-snappers”; I prefer “snake
people”).
As such, I’ve been very hesitant to undertake the task of putting
pen to paper both ‘as a millennial’ and ‘to fellow millennials,’ especially
given our collective apathy,
frustration, and confusion about the political process. But I do feel
compelled to write today as a member of my generation on what I see as a
historic event: The recently announced diplomatic agreement between Iran and
the P5+1 world powers.
At face value, the agreement is a big deal because it
accomplishes a foreign policy problem that has vexed the United States and the
world for decades—the prevention of an Iranian nuclear weapon. By trading gradual
sanctions relief for meaningful and verifiable concessions in the Iranian civil
nuclear program, our diplomats in the State Department have brought home a big
win for America and made the emergence of a new nuclear power in our lifetime
less likely. And most impressively, they did it all without firing a single
shot. You don’t get that kind of success in the Middle East very often these
days.
But for a generation coming into our own on the world stage,
the agreement with Iran is bigger than the security question—it also opens a
window into what could be. All our lives, we’ve been told by a relatively small
technocracy of old, white men who and what we need to be afraid of. This
narrative of fear began with September 11th, 2001 for many of us,
evolving into an Axis of Evil abroad and a war on terrorism at home. The world
is, we are constantly reminded by politicians and pundits alike, a scary and
shrinking place wherein many people hate Americans and the values for which our
country stands.
Nowhere is this demand that we be afraid more apparent than in
the case of the Iranian regime. We are constantly told that the Iranian
military is ‘on the march’ across the Middle East, though this often implies a gross
overestimation of their capabilities. We are casually assured that military
action to stop the Iranian nuclear program is a preferable and simple option,
when it clearly
is not. And perhaps most fundamentally, we are repeatedly bludgeoned with
the idea that the Iranian regime is simply ‘too evil’ to be trusted, much less
negotiated with—despite the fact that a nation of over 77 million people, many
of whom are young, educated, and eager to engage with the world, almost
assuredly don’t all share the
attitudes of a handful of hardliner clerics.
Our grandparents’ and parents’ views of Iran were shaped by
the 1953
coup and 1979
hostage crisis, both of which fostered a deep sense of resentment between
our two countries. Old Iranians see their counterparts in the United States as arrogant,
imperialist aggressors; old Americans in turn suspect all Iranians are radical,
hostile theocrats. But we didn’t grow up with these shared caustic experiences,
so why cling to the negative emotions they engendered? We are a generation that
is seeing the world, and it is time that we start making our own calls about
who we’re willing to extend a hand to and open a dialogue with.
The youth of Iran seem less interested in clinging to
grudges from days past. People under 30 make up around 60% of their
country’s population, and they are—in a way that only standoffish,
post-colonialist reporting
can
convey—purportedly
curious about and indulging in ‘Western’ culture. By some
accounts, they are even wearing jeans and listening to music. For what it’s
worth, none of this is meant to imply that young Iranians are ‘just like us,’
yearning for M1 Abrams tanks full of American Democracy™ to come rolling into
Tehran. Instead, I’m merely suggesting that there is a generational opening
with much more common ground than our respective hardliner old dudes would
otherwise have us believe.
This is the part where someone from that aforementioned old guard
tells me that I’m naïve. To be sure, every American—young and old—has reason to
be concerned about the behavior of the Iranian regime; it perpetrates terrorism
and commits human rights abuses. But again, the evidence is mounting that our
demographic counterparts in Iran are growing weary of, or at least disenchanted
with, the regime’s pariah-state behavior. What better way is there for us to forge
a way forward than by supporting this new effort at diplomacy and leveraging
any chance we get to build a new relationship between not just our countries,
but our peoples?
So the ask here, to my fellow snake people, is twofold. On
the one hand, embrace this shot at diplomacy with Iran—call your Representatives and
Senators, and urge them (or their staffers, who are closer to your age) to give
the deal a fair shake as they prepare to review it in Congress. But more
broadly, start thinking about global affairs on a level that transcends keeping
up with friends across the pond on Instagram or penning squishy pieces for your
travel blog. It’s time for us to start taking the reins of American leadership
in the world; let’s get to work at translating our experiences, our
friendships, and our connectivity into a version of that leadership that makes
sense to us.