Shahrokh Ahkami – Persian Heritage, #54, Summer 2009
If I were to write the “book of my life,” which is quickly approaching seventy years, the pages would be filled with bitter and sweet memories. The sweet pages would be filled with words and sentences and reflect the joy and prosperity of my life with my family, friends and my profession. The other pages would reflect my disappointments, frustrations, defeats and regrets. All the pages, however, would be priceless, because in life we grow and learn from the bitter and the sweet.
In the pages of Persian Heritage magazine some of my life has been written through my editorials but, there is a story, few of you know, that I would like to share. It is about my decision to leave Iran. Right or wrong I made this decision and this decision has clearly been bitter and sweet. My decision to immigrate permanently to the United States was to guarantee a good and stable future for my family. Comfortable with the decision I was excited to share this with my friends, in particular with a friend older and wiser than I. With such joy I informed him that my new bride and I would be leaving for the United States to make permanent residence.
My friend looked at me and with such confidence in his words said, “you go, but remember anywhere you go you will never forget Iran and Iranians. You will always remain Iranian and others will always look at you as Iranian. You my dear friend love Iran so much that your love for Iran will never diminish, instead it will, as you get older, increase.”
Of course I listened to him, but didn’t at the time believe him. His words were stored somewhere in my mind.
As planned we made our journey to the United States and have since planted new roots in this soil with the birth of our children and extended our family through their marriages and grandchildren. As my old friend predicted my wife’s and my love for Iran never decreased. Our need to stay attached to Iran’s people and culture grows stronger. As hoped, I am proud to say that my children, grandchildren and the children of other Iranian-Americans have developed their own attachment to the birthplace of their parents. I am even prouder to say that our love for our birth country has overflowed and emotionally affected our non Iranian friends in the United States. They are, like us, closely watching Iranian events, both good and bad, as they unfold.
During the past thirty years, Iran has gone through changes in regimes. The traditions and principles that were very important to us have been replaced with harsh and intolerable rules and regulations. This caused us to worry about the welfare of Iranians in Iran.
When the Revolution developed women stood and marched in the streets with the men hoping that a regime change would bring them more freedom and equality. Unfortunately shortly after the success of the Revolution their oppression increased and new restrictions were imposed. They were forced to cover themselves and wear the new state uniform, the hejab. The women then holding positions as judges, lawyers, cabinet and Parliament members were downgraded to third and fourth class citizens and their rights continued to diminish. They, however never conformed to their new imposed restrictions. Instinctively they found new avenues to confront the oppression. They worked and studied harder in order to attend universities and eagerly learned art and music. Despite their imposed boundaries, harassment, insult and severe physical punishment they became frontrunners in Iranian society. Their passive struggle to obtain equality and progress continues.
Isn’t it sad that for over thirty years the west and America were unaware of the Iranian plight and struggle for equality and freedom and their achievements? Isn’t it sad that Iranians were defined through untrue portrayals in movies? The western image of an Iranian was that of a hostage taker ( who bound and blindfolded American citizens), dressed in black, shouting “death to America and Britain, burning the US flag and hitting themselves with chains, religious zealots, unshaven and unclean as depicted in the movies Not Without My Daughter and 300.
Regardless of your status or citizenship, if you were Iranian you were treated with instant hostility or detained at customs. The hatred by the west towards Iran and Iranians has increased over the past few years because of the rhetoric and the actions of Mr. Ahmadi-nejad, a man who believed his speech at the United Nations, mesmerized the people in the audience. He believed that while making the speech that a Halo of light covered the entire hall and that the Imam Zaman (the twelfth Imam of the Shiite religion) was resurrected and could be seen. In actuality most attending the session left the room in protest to his rhetoric. The American people saw an Iranian president who, while driving through the noisy streets of New York City, claimed that he heard a young Spanish boy say to his mother, “mommy, mommy this is Mr. Ahmadi-nejad.”
Yes this is the unfortunate and false view the west had of Iranians. They saw a man like Ahmadi-nejad as its president, the sign of Iranian hospitality as hostage taking and their peace loving nature as support of the Lebanese Hezbollah. They saw Iranians as those who denied the holocaust. They saw Iranian’s understanding of life, liberty, equality and the pursuit of happiness as women and men being forced into a new dress code, women forced to cover their heads and men in wrinkled clothing, disheveled hair and beards. And, they saw that Iranian reward for voicing their opinion in writing or speech to be being locked up in jail or hung.
This image of Mr. Ahmadi-nejad, has left all Iranians, including those living abroad in a state of turmoil. Sadder yet it has affected our children. Everyday we fight to protect the rightful image of Iranians, gentle educated people who have so much to contribute to society. Not much of the world knows about the discrimination Iranians, hyphenated or not, have endured and the scars it has left on our souls and minds. Even our children have been affected. An example is the sadness experienced by my youngest daughter. She was in grammar school during the hostage crisis. Everyday I would see this innocent little girl play with her equally innocent and beloved classmate. Their sweetness was delicious. My daughter, who even then defined her ethnicity as Persian, came home from school one day in tears. When we asked her what happened she told us that her friend called her a liar, she told her that she was Iranian, not Persian. Because of hatred or ignorance on the part of that little innocent girls’ parents, a friendship so beautiful was destroyed forever.
I also remember an event that took place at the hospital where I had been working for thirty years. While waiting for a delivery I asked one of Persian Heritage writers to fax over an article to the hospital fax. After finishing the delivery I rushed home to see my grandchildren, forgetting, the papers in the machine. Later I received a call from the delivery room asking me if I had left papers. When I realized I did I rushed back to get them. A few weeks later one of the nurses quietly told me that the papers created a scene. When the papers were found, because of the Persian writing, they thought that they might be from a terrorist. They called the FBI, who read the text and informed them that they were clearly not terroristic in nature but simply historical articles. The matter was cleared up for the hospital, but for me knowing that people I liked, trusted and worked with for so many years thought I was a terrorist, remains a wound to my heart.
These images and events have continued to taint the lives of Iranians until this June’s election. The events that followed began to change the west’s image of Iran and its people who proudly have Iranian heritage. There was a high price paid for this new image, the death and beatings of young and old women and men. This alleged tampering of the election results caused the young and old to pour into the streets. Initially they did not believe their lives were in danger. They were simply exercising their rights under their constitution. Soon, however, the streets of Teheran and other cities in Iran were stained with their blood. But their voices never weakened and their cause grew stronger. Even knowing their lives were in danger they continued to stand up for their rights. It was a new defining moment for Iran.
With the images on television and print the world saw a new Iran and Iranians, Iranians who were civilized and cultured. Iranians who were trying to exercise the freedoms they had in a civilized manner. These images showed the world that they were not from the medieval ages or a third world country. They were intelligent and beautiful and when the government silenced their protests through censorship they used their technical intelligence, twittering and using their mobile phone images to keep their stories and cause alive. Yes, the world was impressed and surprised and so was the western media and America.
One of the most shocking images we saw was the last few minutes of life leaving beautiful Neda. NEDA the beautiful bird in a garden of life. She, like the other Nedas who made such a sacrifice was in the prime of her life. They were filled with dreams for their future. Neda was simply in the street walking passively with her music teacher, exercising her right, when a butcher’s bullet hit her from behind, striking her heart. The image of her lying in the street shocked and saddened us, even President Hossein Obama’s heart ached by this sacrifice, as a father he knew the pain Neda’s family now faced.
NEDA became an instant symbol for Iranians. She solidified their dream to seek liberty and reinstate human rights, so brilliantly stated by Iran’s Cyrus the Great on his Cylinder of Human Rights.
NEDA was their new symbol to actively pursue a movement to end the decades of dictatorship, censorship and physical and mental torture.
Yes, the world watched this priceless bloodshed of these Nedas. I wondered how it is possible that another Iranian could strike down their own countryman? We need to remember that the streets of Tehran and elsewhere will forever be stained unnecessarily by the blood of its citizens. Yes the world watched and as they watched America and the western media finally saw that Iranians were not the government, Iranians were not Ahmadi-nejads.
Not only did they begin to recognize the difference, they were eager to voice their surprise. I listened to a young man from a United States satirical television program, “The Daily Show.” He and his crew went to Iran to film a section for the program. Prior to leaving he said he studied Arabic in order to communicate with the Iranians. He was surprised and embarrassed when he learned Iranians do not speak Arabic because they were not Arabs. He was also amazed at their gentleness and love for Americans. So yes, those true beautiful faces of the old and young, rich and poor, men and women were seen by the world.
Finally Iranians gained their true identity. Finally the world understood that while Iran was in the Middle East and on the Persian Gulf, that Iranians are a Caucasian race and not Arabs. And that while they respect their religion chose not to kill or be killed in its name.
Finally the world became aware of the severe oppression and deprivation Iranians have encountered over the past thirty years. Finally I believe the world and especially the west really cared about the Iranian fate.
The recent election had only four handpicked candidates, candidates that were originally selected, not elected. The unfair outcome of the election gave the Iranian people a window of opportunity to demonstrate the level of their controlled emotion, their educational level and civil maturity. It gave them the opportunity to show their leaders and the world that while they are proud to be Iranian and love their country they demand their voice to be heard and change to be occurring.
Twelve years ago Khatami was elected by the people, by a huge electoral gap. He was chosen because he represented change. They believed he was their way to freedom. He was unable to cure their social pains. In the end there was no change and in actuality their road to freedom was blocked and they were forced to give up more. Silently they accepted the circumstances.
With this election, however, their silence is broken. They will no longer tolerate their vote being nullified. They are unwilling to accept the victory of Mr. Ahmadi-nejad who miraculously won with the help of Imam Zaman. They began with a simple demand that their voices be heard and their vote counted. I watched millions of the beautiful brave faces of Iranians, the rich, the poor, the young and the old, from all walks of life, flood the streets and squares of Iran’s major cities, with pride and admiration as they exercised their constitutional right to defend their vote. Their demonstrations were organized, civil and void of violence. It was so amazing for me to watch and realize that the world was also watching. Perhaps this new and true image of Iranians would prevent Iranians as being used as the scapegoat for every terrorist action. Perhaps now an Iranian name and passport would be respected rather than abused. Perhaps the world would finally realize that Iranians want the censorship and oppression to be removed. I beamed with pride and cried sweet tears of joy. Those tears turned bitter as I sadly watched their bravery turn them into targets for angry bullets and beatings and their blood permanently stain the streets of Iran with the blood of its citizens.
Mr. Ahmadi-nejad you described these courageous gifted, talented and educated people as dust because they disagreed with you. But they are not dust and they clearly showed you that they are beautiful blossoms ready to burst into flowers and share themselves with the world. They are so undeserving of your words “khass va khashak, (dirt and dust). Shame on you for labeling and describing them as the western media once described, as mobs.
They were no longer gathered in mosques and squares, uncivilized mobs chanting “death to America,” “ death to Britain. “No they are gathered, not mobs, in your streets shouting “CHANGE, RESPECT, HEAR OUR VOICES.” THEY ARE NOT DUST, THEY ARE NOT KHASS VA KHASHAK, THEY ARE NOT MOBS.
Again my eyes continuously fill with tears of pride and joy with their recent accomplishment. But, the euphoria I feel is brief as the images of the Nedas return. No words can provide their families with comfort from their pain and loss. As a parent, as an Iranian and as a friend I cry with you. It is hard to find an Iranian whose eyes do not fill up with emotion when this event is mentioned. Our hearts are broken. I am moved to say that these emotions are also felt by non Iranians. It is hard for anyone to believe that in this century a nation so educated still lives under the sword of oppression, with no opportunity to voice their opinions.
Thank you western media and my fellow Americans for showing Iranians as they really are and not mobs. Thank you for showing the world that Iranians arethe true victims of terrorism of their government. Thank you for finally showing the world that they are separate from their government, that they are not Ahmadi-nejads. And, thank you President Obama for crying for the Iranians. Perhaps with these events their long path to freedom has been shortened. Perhaps they soon will be able to rid themselves of the hajab, walk hand in hand wherever they desire and share their opinions without fear of reprisal. Perhaps they will be able to travel throughout the world without harassment.
We, who look at them from the outside must also learn from the Nedas. A few short months ago some Iranians outside of Iran called for the non discretional bombing of Iran. Had that wish been granted those, you now call heroes may have been killed as a result of your selfish prayers being answered.
The same people you sought to destroy are defending their rights and standing up for THEIR future, not ours. Hence we should support but not initiate any movement on their behalf. They are at the controls and to be successful that is where they must remain.
In quiet moments I love to watch the birds.I admire and envy the freedom they have as the fly through the sky and sing such beautiful songs. I admire how they, with their tiny wings have the ability to fly deep into the sky, jump from branch to branch, or tree to tree in order to distance themselves from danger. Or, when the pressure and fear becomes to great they fly far, far away. Sometimes I think about those of us who flew thousands of miles away from our original homeland Iran, to make a new nest elsewhere. But, have we been able to fly far enough from danger or have we gained the freedom we sought? Our minds and souls remain captive by our homeland and our nests and wings are tied with its wires and strings of love.
There is so much I have to say. In future issues of this magazine I hope we will write about a new Iran. An Iran that will bring happiness, freedom and equality to its entire people. We must get closer to one another and be able to help each other. For those Iranians that are caged birds in Iran, deprived of human freedoms and dignities let us get closer to you. If you are an artist paint your story, a writer use your pen, use whatever talent or instrument you have to express support for the people and show the world the misery they live in.
Again we at Persian Heritage extend our deepest sympathies to the families who have lost their loved ones in this battle of freedom, the sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, grandchildren, cousins, friends, neighbors and fellow compatriots.
May peace, understanding and freedom prevail. May your current leadership understand your grace, fortitude and determination and work with, rather than control you.