Strong words, but by no means unusual in a city where people’s conversation turns with alarming speed to their daily struggle to make ends meet. But what makes such talk baffling is that most economists insist the country is relatively well managed.

"Iran has huge resources of oil and gas, and the rise in oil prices since 1999 from $10 a barrel to over $26 today has given the economy an immense boost", says Yves Cadilhon, head of the French economic mission in Tehran.

"Quite frankly, they’ve used the money well: roads have been improved throughout Iran, and their electricity infrastructure is now as good as Turkey’s".

So why are Iranians complaining? For Laylaz, a supporter of moderate President Mohammad Khatami, popular gripes are a side effect of political reforms.

"People are no longer afraid to speak out. They’re not … angrier, just more vocal", he argues.

Jahangir Amouzegar, Iran’s Finance Minister in the 1970s, disagrees: "It’s the envy factor", he says.

Among the main bastions of clerical control are the bonyad, immense foundations built up after 1979 from wealth confiscated from Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, Iran’s last Shah. Ostensibly "charitable" organisations, they frequently use their amassed wealth ­ up to 35 percent of the country’s economy according to analysts ­ for more questionable purposes. In 1997, for instance, one senior cleric and bonyad boss announced his institution was offering $2.5 million for the assassination of novelist Salman Rushdie.

Another bonyad based in the holy city of Mash-had has used donations from pilgrims to buy 90 percent of the arable land in the surrounding region. Controlled since 1979 by the arch conservative Ayatollah Abbas Vaez-Tabazi ­ whose son and daughter are married to two of supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khameneh’i’s children ­ the foundation also owns universities and a Coca-Cola factory.

Backed by Khatami, Iran’s majority reform-minded Parliament recently scrapped laws exempting the foundations from paying tax. Most observers doubt anything will change. In any case, they argue, bonyad bosses can always fall back on privileged relations with Iran’s banks, almost all state-owned.

"Credit is rationed", explains Amouzegar, "and it’s rarely private business that gets it."

"I’ve never even bothered trying to get a bank loan", says Ata’ollah Khazali, owner of a small smelting works just outside Tehran. "Perhaps the private banks will be better for people like me, but they’re very new and few people trust them".

"Iran lacks liquidity; we do our best to remedy that", one bazaari says. One method used, he explains, is the systematic back-dating of cheques.

"Strictly speaking it’s illegal, but it enables us to play with money that isn’t ours".

This bazaari is a small player, specialising only in copper goods. Others, with political attachments, are more powerful.

Neither brother is renowned for his reformist sentiments. When Khatami broke his customary cautious reserve to warn against the rise of "religious fascism" in December 1998, Habibollah publicly reminded him he was "president of the whole nation and not just one group which insults and violates the holy values of the revolution".

"These bazaari are like a mafia, obeying no laws", says one clothes manufacturer, who buys all his fabric from them. "If one of them decides to boycott a company, they all do".

"Fortunately the younger generation is slightly more moderate", adds opposition economist Ali Rashidi. "Unfortunately, they age well: Plenty are over 90 and still going strong".

"The regime knows it has no choice but to liberalise", argues Sa’id Laylaz. "They may use anti-Western rhetoric as their political trump card, but they can only save themselves by opening up the country".