19 Jan Iran — Museum-Garden of Anti Arrogance

Despite what you might have heard, it’s not true that our embassy in Iran is no longer open for business, it’s just that the people working at the embassy are no longer accredited by the State Department.

   Embassy personnel not currently accredited to the State Department

Our embassy in Tehran or, as the locals like to call it, the US Den of Espionage Museum, (also referred to as the Nest of Spies and, more poetically, the Museum-Garden of Anti Arrogance) was never America’s finest architectural achievement. None of our embassies are. This one looks like a mid-century junior high in a community where the school bond failed.

                    Outside the Nest of Spies looking in

Before Peg and I lived in Africa, I’d always imagined our embassies as stately affairs, welcoming, yet dignified. Tastefully appointed with paneled offices, carpeted floors and elegantly-dressed diplomats discussing matters of state in precise, measured tones. Our best face forward. A little bit of America overseas. The embassies we saw, and we saw several, really were little bits of America.

They were crappy Federal office buildings – desks littered with files, two people shoved into offices built for one, chipped linoleum, ugly paint, flickering fluorescent tubes, cafeterias featuring clammy, plastic-wrapped sandwiches in gloomy refrigerator cabinets – no different from the crappy Federal office buildings scattered around the US.

In Botswana I had a badge that let me into the embassy. Without it I couldn’t get past the gate, which made me wonder how someone would go about defecting to America. In movies, all foreigners have to do is hightail it to one of our embassies and, bang, they’re on American soil and safe from all enemies, domestic and foreign. The time I tried getting in without my badge I had an appointment, so the embassy was expecting me. The guards recognized me, as did the marine on duty. The diplomats knew who I was, the ambassador was a good friend and, still, bang, I got turned away. It’s no wonder the Iranians had to use a mob to get inside.

Now that they’re in charge of our embassy in Tehran they’ve added some flourishes to make the place look less institutional. Their artists are especially skilled at spectral versions of the Statue of Liberty.

Formerly a blank wall facing the streets of Tehran, now a showcase for local art

Under current management, the embassy is much more open and welcoming than it used to be. For a mere 200,000 rials . . . the price of a ham sandwich, if there were such things as ham sandwiches in Tehran, which there aren’t . . . the Iranians welcomed us into parts of the building that people with badges a lot more potent than mine never got to see when we ran the place. This included the communications facility filled with highly classified electronics, the Faraday cage where diplomats held meetings safe from electromagnetic intrusion, and the Vault where documents were shredded. Or incinerated. Or shredded and incinerated depending on the document.

Unclassifiable Americans at large among highly classified American equipment

If Michael Jackson had known about Faraday cages he would have had one at Neverland to keep electromagnetic radiation from aging him while he slept.

The Faraday cage where our guys could conduct meetings safe from electronic snoopery, just like on Netflix

The incinerator and the document shredders were running full bore when enraged students began pounding on the door. According to our minder, a murderous mob chanting “Death to America” doesn’t really mean they want America dead. “Death to America” is just a colloquial way of saying, “Shame on you, America. You’ve been such a disappointment.”

The Vault housing the incinerator and the paper shredders was once a very a busy place.

By the time our guys let the students into the Vault, the critical documents had been turned into confetti. Or been turned into confetti and then sent up in flames. The not-so-critical documents had gone through ordinary shredders and come out tangled strips the Iranians spent decades reassembling. When the Revolutionary Guard published what they’d reassembled, they claimed children had done the reassembling. More recently, a story has developed that the work was done by weavers. The Iranians we spoke to were unfamiliar with the weaver version. They were under the impression that kids enjoy sorting through shreds of paper. The parents among us were under the impression it was child abuse.

To this day, a large barrel filled with confetti remains in the Vault. This is for display purposes only, since the confetti is made out of ceiling tiles. The paper confetti, one assumes, is providing employment for new generations of children.

             An intelligence bonanza of confettitized ceiling tiles

When time came for us to leave the embassy, we just walked out the door. Which is pretty much what happened when Peg and I left Africa although, with Africa, I’d assumed the embassy might want their badge back. But nobody ever asked for it. Could be that’s how people defect. They buy an embassy badge from somebody who doesn’t need it anymore. I’m thinking e-bay, here. So, if you’re a foreigner and need a keep-out-of-jail card, you know where to look. You have to act quickly, though. There’s only one in stock.