The peace prize that could change a nation

SOON after the announcement that Shirin Ebadi had won the 2003 Nobel Peace Prize, I managed to catch a few words with her in Paris.

She affirmed enthusiastically, as she has always done fighting for human rights in the Islamic Republic of Iran, that there is absolutely no contradiction between being a Muslim and pushing hard for freedom and democracy.

Her award will, I hope, make a huge difference within Iran - but it may also help change the prejudiced way in which we in the West often regard the Islamic religion and Muslim countries.

Iran first. I have had Iranian friends since I was a teenager. Many Iranians in Britain are refugees from the revolution which overthrew the Shah and brought Ayatollah Khomeini to power. Some Iranians I know actually agree with George W Bush’s characterisation of the Iranian government as part of the "axis of evil", and they speak eloquently about the oppression of women in their country in ways which range from the serious and violent to the comic.

Comic? Well, how about the thickness of socks women are supposed to wear under their long black gowns? One friend who used to live in Tehran says the religious police would occasionally tolerate thin black socks - at other times, only thick grey socks were modest enough to pass the inspection of zealots for whom a woman’s toe is an object of sexual and religious suspicion.

Iranians in Britain have told me that all across Tehran there is a profusion of what one called "balcony flowers" - a slang expression for small TV dishes used to receive foreign broadcasters, particularly the BBC, and sometimes hidden behind thick green potted plants.

Exiles and protesters keep in constant touch by telephone and the internet. Unrest within Iranian universities is now common. Religious students loyal to the regime are frequently involved in clashes with the far greater number of students who believe the theocrats are retarding the development of modern Iran.

Yet even more significant than the impact of Shirin Ebadi’s award inside Iran could be the impact outside the country. She is the first Muslim woman ever to win the Nobel Peace Prize. Her intellectual toughness and firmness of character, coupled with her commitment to working within her religion, means that she may help transform the image of Islam among ignorant non-Muslims. The prejudices about Islamic culture, the headline-grabbing stories from northern Nigeria or Saudi Arabia or the Taleban’s Afghanistan, where the interpretation of Sharia law involves stoning women to death or chopping off the hands of thieves, are - as Shirin Ebadi herself argues - reflections not of religion but of regime. Islam in the hands of powerful men has in some countries become a useful tool to oppress others. Shirin Ebadi proves it does not have to be like this.

INCIDENTALLY, Dr Azmi Bishara, a Palestinian member of the Israeli parliament, asked me recently why no-one calls Yasser Arafat "the Nobel Peace Prize winner" any more. Dr Bishara thinks that, almost unconsciously, the western media have decided to forget Arafat’s honour because it is politically expedient to ignore it.

Oh really? I’m happy to blame the media for all kinds of sins, but somehow describing Chairman Arafat as a peace prize winner seems bizarre at a time when terrorism goes unchecked, Arabs and Israelis are blown up in Haifa, and the Palestinian leader has just lost his second prime minister in a couple of months because he - Arafat - will not make concessions on who is in charge of security. Perhaps there should be a new prize for those on all sides who have let peace slip from their grasp.

I’VE just finished what might be the last book to be written by the wonderful octogenarian John Mortimer - Where there’s a Will. It’s the distillation of his eight decades as a man, father, lover, writer and lawyer, a man who loves life so much that he heartily recommends a glass of champagne every morning and sex in the open air.

The passage that delighted me most was his observation about menus. Restaurants with big fat menus, especially those with deep red leather covers and velvet tassels, are best to be avoided, he suggests. The food is usually over-elaborate nonsense. Mortimer prefers restaurants with very limited menus.

One of my favourite restaurants is in Sicily, in the mountains of the east near Comiso. The patrone has no menu at all. He comes to the table and declaims: "First Course: spaghetti or penne with ..." and outlines a choice of freshly made herby sauces. Then, when that plate is finished, he returns and declaims the choice for the next course. Needless to say, the food is wonderful, inexpensive - and not a tasselled menu in sight.

• Gavin Esler is a presenter on BBC2’s Newsnight.