The rising price of love in Iran

theguardian.com, Monday 7 April 2014
The popularity of consumerist culture has raised dowry expectations to unrealistic extremes

It drives poor families into the clutches of organ harvesters and loan sharks, compels betrothed couples to spend years in pre-marital purgatory, and pushes a nation known for strong family values to the brink of a population crisis. Still, for some Iranians, losing a kidney or signing off on a Faustian bank loan is a lesser evil than the dishonor, or aberoorizi, of failing to provide an acceptable dowry for their daughters.

As in other staunchly patronymic societies, Iran is home to a deeply entrenched system of dowries, typically negotiated by grooms’ families and often included in pre-marital contracts. While the results are nowhere near as violent as in India, where some 6000 women are killed each year by husbands who use physical means to extort a larger dowry from the bride’s family, the rise of consumerist popular culture in Iran has raised dowry expectations to unrealistic extremes.

The trend of lavishing their daughters with over-the-top dowries, or jahaziyeh, flies in the face of current economic trends, which have seen the purchasing power or urban families fall 23.8% in the past year. Due to high import tariffs and fluctuating supply, Iranians pay exponentially more for furniture and foreign-made household appliances than their western counterparts. Rich, poor, or middle-class, families spare no expense to outfit their daughters with elaborate sets of kitchen gadgets, glitzy home decor and luxury chinaware. At present, a typical jahaziyeh runs a family anywhere between 400 million and one billion rials (about $16,000 to $40,000 at the official rate of exchange), in an economy where the average monthly wage is $500. The wealthier or more competitive families become, the greater the expense; some jahaziyeh lists include around 280 items and cost over five billion rials.

Much of this finery sits unused in the back of aging cabinets, but that is hardly the point. A newlywed daughter’s robust jahaziyeh is considered a source of familial pride and parental love. Mothers and fathers are thus often prepared to go to the extremes to make with the goods – even sell their own body parts, as one man described to an Iranian newspaper: “My wife and I have both been working ourselves to death for a year, and we still haven’t saved up even a third of what we’ll need. No one lets you buy home goods on a payment plan anymore. I’m seriously this close to selling one of my kidneys to see that my other two daughters get a jahaziyeh too.”

As an integral part of the marriage tradition, a woman’s jahaziyeh is placed on prominent display during wedding formalities. It is customary for guests to visit the newlyweds’ home several days before the wedding to admire the bride’s treasure trove, with the new purchases painstakingly arranged to allow for better viewing. Aside from practical appliances and refrigerators stuffed full of jams and frozen meats, families place a premium on decorative items like chandeliers, factory-made rugs, mass-produced framed art and sculptures of varying size. One dowry viewing at an upper middle-class home featured at least $4,100 of crystal glassware set atop a multi-tiered shelf and unlikely to ever be put to practical use. The entire dowry, at an estimated worth of around $16,500, took up all of their 100-square meter apartment, leaving no room for standing.

Such spending sprees set an unfeasible standard for cash-strapped young couples, who are increasingly compelled to shoulder the financial burden of jahaziyeh because their parents cannot afford it. Already grappling with high inflation, rising rents and unemployment, dowry shoppers must hunt for deals in a volatile consumer appliance market marred by supply shortages and excessive reliance on foreign goods. Under the previous administration of Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, industrial production fell sharply, and a considerable share of consumer items – including 80% of household goods – are now imported. Prices fluctuate wildly, and many items are only sporadically available.

“I’ve been engaged for six months now,” says Haniyeh, a recent college graduate, as she shops for appliances at a Tehran superstore known for targeting dowry shoppers. Her fiance, who holds a degree in engineering, is currently fulfilling his mandatory military service. Afterwards, he hopes to find employment in a relative’s chinaware factory and find a suitable home to rent with his new bride. Haniyeh’s retired parents, both former state employees, are paying for the dowry.

“Rather than enjoy these six months together [with my fiancee], we’ve had to follow the market each day to make sure we aren’t missing out on good deals,” says Haniyeh, looking around the superstore. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even think it makes sense to buy all of this stuff right from the get-go, especially considering that my fiancé doesn’t even have a home of his own yet.”

The rising financial cost of marriage – of which jahaziyeh is just one component – have caused many young couples to forgo the affair altogether. A 2009 study by the Research Group for Social Ills at Shahid Beheshti University revealed that staggering financial requirements have contributed to a 70% decline in young Iranians’ desire to wed. The cohabitation of unmarried couples is on the rise, much to the chagrin of the clerical establishment, which prohibits pre-marital relations.

The trend also bodes poorly for future population growth. In the late 1990s, it led the reformist government of Mohammad Khatami to establish a countercultural program promoting marriage among university students, promoting the old-fashioned idea of a no-frills wedding. Initially, the government distributed half-ounce gold coins to eligible couples, but the policy backfired after divorce rates skyrocketed as the young pairs discovered they were unprepared for marriage in the long run, both financially and emotionally.

While couples are still encouraged to marry free-of-charge at mass weddings held on religious holidays marking the marriage of Fatameh and Ali, the first Shia Imam, the state system is increasingly catering to the requirements of consumer culture. Charity organizations specialize in providing jahaziyehs to lower-income Iranians, beseeching people to donate money via Internet advertisements. Insurance companies sell jahaziyeh policies to families with young girls, and small bank loans are available for brides-to-be with modest salaries. (Often, it takes multiple loans to cover the expenses of even a no-frills dowry.)

Some identify the dowry system as an underlying cause of emotional problems among young Iranians. One Tehran-based physician said the stress and competition associated with jahaziyeh was akin to a mental illness, calling it “a constant obsession with being distinct and better than others in some way.”

Inside the superstore, Haniyeh paused to take an inventory of her purchases. She had spent $6600, and was not even halfway through her list. “Since we’re going to have to rent an apartment for several years before we can consider buying a home, it’s going to be a pain to haul these things around every time,” she said. “But like most other families, mine believes that the jahaziyeh is a source of pride and respect….If there are things missing, others will make snide remarks about us.”

http://www.theguardian.com/world/iran-blog/2014/apr/07/the-rising-price-of-love-in-iran