P. Abdi
Every time it came to retelling my prison memories I somehow dogged the idea and made excuses only not to confront the moments once again.
I spent a few years in the dungeons the Iranian mullahs but it seems like as if I almost spent a life time there. But I always had an odd feeling that I had survived the whole ordeal only by chance!
I was the left over and those really in love with their goal have gone.
Of course I am not expressing feelings of bigheaded devotion of a closed eye follower but of one who has experienced a world wide philosophy search and finally grabbed the one most near to what I found “the best” and “unique” in its kind and also the most “practical solution to our needs”.
I have lost my mother, brother and husband as a consequent to facing the “beast”(mullahs regime)
But I was not the only one who lost a beloved one. Thousands alike make an ocean of such examples that faced the ominous clerical regime in dark times, paid a heavy price to unmask it and never had he world know or understand the stakes for that epic. Some families have been totally wiped out and had no survivors, and some have only one or two left.
I am referring to the 1980 massacres of the PMOI and supporters after Khomeini’s fatwa which lead to at least 120 000 murdered in “Khomeini styled” justice.
Of course as we can see now, the mullahs were to destroy every value in our society only to leave of stripped of “faith, trust and hope”.
It was around 5 pm on….1980. I was in such a hurry to get to a burial ceremony of my friend Susan Shadmani, student of nursing in Rasht Institute of Higher studies. We together formed a team at that time called the “militia” a sort of a popular scouts primarily founded by PMOI leadership to counter any suppressive initiations creeping back in to the newly born revolution by what it seemed the new hierarchy of mullahs. The militias at the time were known to be the vanguards and massagers of peace and freedom, participating in all social gatherings to talk and spread the word of freedom in all parts of Iran. They were also the first to counter any measures that would hinder Democracy by the newly established religious Bassij corps.
We used to be in “building homes and villages” as well as encouraging road side “educational discussions” . The latter was always hot and simmering the crowds that always had their differences of opinion sometimes ending in harsh arguments! But this was what democracy was about and we enjoyed getting to know different points of view in all spheres of life and knowledge. Until the “Day”.
The Day Khomeini decided that we were too “revealing” and that “democracy “ had gone too far.
He then ordered a fatwa that made us terrorists and “Hypocrites” as well as “fifth column of the enemy Saddam Hussein” (At the time)
I believe he managed to cunningly sum-up all his historical predecessors experience merging them into a theory called “ VELAYAT Faghigh” or supreme leadership. The one we all witness today is not so much changed from its birth.
The truth “always hurts” and I believe we are looking at half of the truth about this regime today.
On warm summers day in 1980 I remember I was hurriedly making my way to attend my “pals” burial. Susan was executed a few days back. The ceremony was to beheld at Pamchal in the city of Rasht ( my birth place)
I was to represent the organization (PMOI) in that ceremony. I had the statement firm in my hand. There was no hesitation left for what I was about to do:
We had to let public the main message of the current on going executions in Rasht and every where lese; “This regime had usurped all the sacrifices of our people and viciously attacked “all freedoms” by confiscationg freedom of though, expression, belief and gathering in the society by gradually establishing a religious dictatorship.
It had already started arbitrary arrests of dissidents and prisons were being reoccupied once more, this time more violently than before. The violent University attacks and abductions and killings on the streets had to be voiced into the public. We had to let all know that this regime was non other than a dictatorship with more than a few hundred killed so far. So I was carrying with me a very important message squashed in a paper in my fists. I felt Suasan’s soft smile looking at me and believing in what I had to do with all the risks involved. I felt her smiling and encouraging me. People had to know.
How? I had to clearly state among friends and foe in the ceremony that “we believed that this regime was not popular anymore and it was time to chant “Down with dictator”.
This will be continued ….
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