It’s raining in New York today, and Iran is all over the news. The Cold War’s legacy is strong, even overpowering. So many experts, so many opinions. But where — can anyone tell me — do they get all the inside knowledge? I don’t know whether Iran is evil, contentious, pragmatic, or delusional. But I do remember better times — Cold War times. And while I’m being more than a little nostalgic and self-indulgent, I’d like to share my personal memories with anyone who cares to read further.

I arrived in Iran on a bright spring day in late April 1976, and left in the gray of cold December two and a half years later. In that short period of time, I watched Isfahan, the city I called home, become a chameleon. First, the Pearl of Persia, battered by an influx of foreign workers, domestic technicians, and military personnel became (what I call) a Cold War City, unintentionally shaped and molded by Cold War inputs and influences. Later, before I left, it was well on its way to becoming a revolutionary bastion.

Today, in the spring of 2010, the Cold War remains a phantom presence. Cold War residuals continue to influence not only Isfahan and Iran, but the international politics of the United States of America. Especially in this Congressional election year, it is hard to deny that the past determines and shapes the present. It is also hard to deny that the past shapes my present, especially when I remember my life and the tours I led all over Iran.

Giant snowflakes on Abbasabad Avenue near the Anglican church and English bookstore. Wiener schnitzel and curried chicken at the Iran Tour hotel nearby. Afternoon tea in the rose garden at the Shah Abbas. Shopping for copper in the old bazaar. My memories are as opaque as drizzly, fog-filled October nights in New York’s West Village.

I wish I had kept a diary, a journal, but I didn’t. Only later, when my dreams fell flat and I lost my inner compass, did I begin to write.

I thought it would be easy to reconstruct the most meaningful events of my past, that the sights and smells and noises of my life would be at my beck and call. Now I spend hours looking at faded photographs, piecing the years together like some kind of crazy quilt, teasing my memories from their hiding places in the same way that a quilter patiently wriggles her needle and thread through resistant fabrics.

I tug at the fragments, willing images of remembering to skit across my consciousness like fluffy cirrus clouds on the loveliest of spring days.

I spend a lot of time recalling my long walks through the neighborhoods of Isfahan, reconstructing the trips and tours I led all over Iran.

Did I really ride a camel backward to liven up a lackluster group? Did I really barge into a tentful of Qashgais and ask if they would mind if our group took a look, saw how they lived? Did I really experience Natanz in spring?

The trips that I planned and led in Iran formed the core of my life there, at least for the first eighteen months or so, before the nation’s internal political situation became so troubling. These were the good times, the magical times.

After, there were other trips. More somber. To Qom, to Sanandaj. But, mainly, there were long, long stays close to home.

Now, I spend my time resurrecting memories: Shah Reza, Kashan, Soh, Najafabad, Shiraz, Susa, and so many others.

But more and more – because it’s in the news, I guess – I dwell on Natanz. Beautiful, beautiful Natanz. Oh how I long for Natanz in spring.

Were they cherry or were they apricot? It doesn’t matter. What I remember are blossoms floating from the sky like pale pink snowflakes, picnics of chelo kebab and chai, and visits to the aging potter Ustad Abady. Because I was the group leader, I was always the first to enter the narrow hallway leading to the workshop. I lusted after his pottery, refused to have anything less than first dibbs. The piece I liked best was an oval vase, white with rabbits outlined in black, punctuated by sprigs of rose, blue, and green. When we left the country, I had to entrust the piece to a friend for safekeeping. I never saw it again. And I will never have another.

It sounds as if the Natanz trips were only for me and maybe they were. I know that my last trip was. It was in fall, rather than spring, and revolutionary fires were raging. Some friends and I hired a car and driver and had one last picnic.

I have pictures of that crisp, sunny day, and I vividly remember asking God for one more spring. Perhaps it is yet to be. But much has changed since that visit.

Today Natanz is not noted for its history, its beauty, or its hundred year old Chinese pottery tradition. Instead, it is central to Iran’s nuclear debate, and home to a purported underground facility identified by the Washington-based Institute for Science and International Security as a probable gas centrifuge uranium-enrichment facility.

The Iranians argue that Natanz will process natural uranium to produce fuel for Iran’s civilian nuclear power program. In fact, an IISS report on Iran’s nuclear ambitions states that “depending on the configuration and operation of the facility, Natanz could produce either low-enriched uranium for light water nuclear power fuel or highly-enriched uranium for several nuclear weapons a year.”

In any event, Natanz has lost its innocence, even though my memories of times past have not. Every spring they become vibrant again, and I pay homage to places loved and friends misplaced.

It’s really not very hard because there’s a cherry tree in Central Park, near my home, that reminds me so much of Natanz in springtime. I guide my springer spaniel Berkeley to a spot under the pale pink blossoms and we let them rain down on us. Then I take long, deep breaths and savor the memories, pretending that I am safe, that nothing can hurt us. I am in Natanz and it is spring.

The Eisenhower administration’s covert strategy was first applied in Iran where the stability of the shah’s regime was deemed essential from the American national security perspective.

Because Eisenhower’s new emphasis on covert action proved capable of resolving potential revolutions in America’s favor, the strategy came to dominate much of America’s activity in the Third World during the remainder of the Cold War.

Shortly after CIA intervention resolved Iran’s domestic leadership crisis to the shah’s advantage, the Americans, fearful of Soviet ambitions, entered into an agreement, making Iran the nominal owner of its own oil.

But — the agreement also gave six US companies a lucrative 40 percent share of the National Iranian Oil Company (NIOC) consortium.

The agreement did allow Iran, though, to accrue much higher oil revenues, a condition that enabled the country to finance the arms expenditures and military build-up which occurred in the 1970s.

At this early point in the Cold War, issues of national security clearly meshed in America’s political consciousness with interests which later took on overriding economic importance.

It was not until the 1960s that the multinational corporation became a mechanism for the achievement of Cold War strategies and objectives.

And — not until the 1970s did exorbitant oil revenues combine with the goals of Third World governments and the multinational corporation to create almost unlimited opportunity for the international defense industry in the Third World.

Although Stalin appeared to be resolute in his determination to protect Soviet oil revenues, in reality, he was much more concerned with dominance and prestige. As the Soviet scholar Georgiy Mirsky argues: “Oil was not so terribly vital to the interests of the Soviet Union … The USSR had plenty of it to begin with.”

Stalin’s refusal to withdraw his troops from Iran had most to do — not with oil — but with his concern over Iran’s position vis-a-vis the postwar balance of power. His recalcitrance regarding troop withdrawal  led to a debate in the Security Council of the United Nations, the first test for the infant organization.

During the Security Council debate, the United States provided support and leadership, at the same time becoming inextricably embroiled in Iran’s domestic politics.

The Soviets finally promised to withdraw their troops.

The USSR left the region in May 1946 after the Iranians promised them an oil concession.  There was a caveat: the concession was subject to approval by the Iranian Majles.

In December 1946, Stalin suffered a diplomatic defeat when the Majles refused to approve the concession.

Iran’s situation remained precarious. Riots occurred throughout the country.

Iran’s largest tribe, the Qasha’i, revolted in the south in opposition to government policy regarding Iran’s communist leaning party, the Tudeh Party. Meanwhile, the Tudeh held daily demonstrations in most of Iran’s large cities.

In order to show its support for the shah’s government, the United States decided “that a limited amount of armaments not to exceed $10 million in value would be sold to Iran. The United States would also give favorable consideration to the credits necessary to furnish such arms.”

Based on the American showing of support, the Iranian government sent security forces into Azerbaijan, finally suppressing a Soviet-sponsored revolt.

In addition to the $10 million in armaments mentioned above, in 1947, the United States provided Iran with a $51 million credit for the purchase of weaponry and associated expenditures. Subsequently, American resources poured into the country, enabling a build-up of Iran’s armed forces.

Over the next three years, Iran rapidly evolved into a state consumed by issues of national security. The shah embraced American assistance as a means of eliminating the Soviet presence in his country, preserving the integrity of Iran’s borders, and solidifying support for his policies internally.

The Iranian air force increased its fighting force fivefold, the army was modernized, and the navy was expanded.

Meanwhile, the United States, moving into the great power position that Britain could no longer maintain, had survived its introduction to realpolitik in the developing world.

The concept of balance of power and the strategy of containment took on increased meaning as paradigms for success in dealing with the Soviet Union — especially in the Third World.

The take-away: precedent was established in Iran regarding the importance of economic and military support for Third World countries allying themselves with the Western security system.