I believe that the relationship of the Left—both Arab and European, albeit with some generalization—with Iran is a peculiar one. I am referring specifically to Iran and the Islamic Revolution. There was an unusual and overwhelming eagerness to support and encourage the revolution, not only when it broke out, but even from the time France hosted Khomeini.
This raises fundamental questions about the relationship between a philosopher who is alien to a culture and the "metaphysical or transcendental" regions of the world. It questions how their interpretations are built upon factors that—while not entirely false—are ultimately shortsighted; they only perceive the immediate action while ignoring its aftermath or anticipated consequences.
Dr. Anwar has pointed out a parallel between Khomeini’s rejection of capitalism and the foundational principles of the Left, noting that this shared opposition was a primary catalyst for solidarity. This brings us to another point regarding the "causality of simplistic solidarity"—a trap into which otherwise rigorously logical philosophers often fall. It exposes how easily seemingly rebellious ideas are transmitted and swiftly adopted.
However, I suspect that the broader Leftist solidarity with Khomeini and his revolution involves a sort of "circular religious dissidence." The Left finds the Shiite departure from the Sunni majority commendable and welcome—driven by a desire to disrupt the status quo—even though this dissidence still revolves within the exact same religious sphere. This observation applies not only to the Left but is also evident in the stances of many secular enlightenment intellectuals.
What is particularly striking is that the ruling elite in Iran wields a distinct type of authority. The Supreme Leader is not merely a conventional dictator; he is a figure with a philosophical grounding that colors his legitimacy, drawing upon the theology of the faith and the concepts of "destiny and historical grievance." This very aspect appeals to Western "intellectual inclinations," as the ruler possesses a profound philosophical justification for his existence, the legitimacy of his decisions, and the significance of his historical role.
Another factor in this context is that Iran is a Shiite country. This distinction appeared intriguing and exotic to Foucault, given the general absence of major Shiite states at the time, which gave the event the aura of a novel type of revolution with a "different blend."
There is another angle—one that may seem tangential but is inherently connected in my view—which is observing a philosopher who has lived through events close to our contemporary reality and voiced their opinions on them. This has become a new metric in the realm of assessment and critique. Foucault’s stance on the Iranian Revolution and Levinas’s defense of Israel are two instances that have provoked significant rethinking regarding the impact of philosophy. They highlight the necessity of subjecting philosophy to a degree of realism and rigorous critique, while keeping emotional biases in check.
Consequently, I believe that a philosopher separated by temporal, geographical, and relational distance from the issues or concepts in question inherently remains exempt from this specific type of critique and moral trial, unlike a philosopher who is a contemporary to the event.