Not Today and Not Tomorrow: Human Rights Violations in Iran
By
on
(this was written on Sunay 6-21 but not posted to this blog until later)
Not Today and Not Tomorrow: Human Rights Violations in Iran
by Sahar
Tonight I sat in a cool and unseasonably still San Francisco night with
my fellow Iranians in silent vigil for those lives lost to senseless
acts of violence. We sat in silence with hope that maybe such a quiet
night saturated by our tears, our hopes and our dreams would reach like
a thunderous cloud the hearts of our brothers and sisters who have been
risking their lives every day and every night for this thing we call
freedom. I am concerned, deeply worried about what the days and weeks
ahead will hold. As I read the various bits and pieces of information
that find their way to my computer screen and radio, I am horrified by
the picture of injustice that meets me in this place, so far and yet so
close. This is no longer a matter of domestic unrest, what we have been
bearing witness to are human rights violations that cannot be tolerated.
We cannot tolerate such gross acts of violence.
I write these words with fear. Fear. For more than fifty years
countries such as Britain and the United States have involved
themselves in covert operations to take advantage of this oil rich and
geo-strategically important country. When in 1953 the democratically
elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh nationalized the oil industry
to help redirect some of Iran’s wealth back to the people, a British
and U.S. administered coup, coined “Operation Ajax” by the CIA, was
successfully carried out and oil interests secured. This is the seed of
Iranian distrust for such foreign governments. This distrust took even
deeper root over subsequent years as continued interventions into
Iranian affairs led the country into mass social unrest and
dissatisfaction and the eventual rise of the Islamic Republic.
I am trembling because as I write these words, I can hear my cousin
saying good bye to his mother and father as they part ways and these
words that haunt me are as full as the heart in my throat, swollen and
suffocating. Every good bye is quite possibly their last.
I have seen a woman and her father shot down in broad daylight. I have
seen a blind man led into the streets to listen to the tumult
surrounding him; even he will lend his own voice to the movement. I
have seen old women and young boys on the sidelines beaten with the
sticks of spineless men. I have heard the whisper of an old woman who
reports the number of young men and women she has seen dragged into a
mosque; they go in, she says softly, but no one comes out. I cannot
drown out the screams that I hear emerging from those walls. This
violent response to a peaceful movement that simply asks for the right
to voice dissent, organize, and demand justice. This violent response
to a movement that has asked only for reform and not overthrow. This
violent response to a movement that has embraced the very police and
military sent to hunt them down.
These human rights violations must be vociferously denounced by all
nations and yet my screams are trapped in my throat. Two years ago
Seymour Hersh reported that Congress had agreed to a request from
President Bush to fund an escalation of covert operations against Iran.
I should not have to fear that my appeals for assistance to the United
States and the world at large will give license to opportunists
-opportunists who will take advantage of the current crisis to push
forth agendas that will only serve to further their own interests at my
people’s expense— but I do. I should not have to fear that my calls for
U.N. monitoring of the situation on the ground will lead to loss of
national sovereignty— but I do. I should not have to fear that my
demands for peace and security will lead to further and harsher
violence by authorities there who will hear my thunderous cries from
across the seas as proof that my aunt and uncle are spies— but I do—
because this is the mess we’ve made.
I am heartened by the spontaneous solidarities that have emerged over
the last week by the generous, skilled and committed friends who have
lent their time and energy to ensuring that Iranian voices can be heard
all over the world. I have seen posts on Facebook offering signal
scrambling directions to protestors attempting to escape the grip of
their attackers. I have seen a mass movement from below of fellow
Americans demanding that corporate media covers this story responsibly.
I have witnessed the creative genius of a generation, here and there,
fighting back with the technologies we have developed to get the
message right when corporate media fails. I have seen cross-national
solidarities, bypassing nation-states, and forming despite borders.
I have heard the beat of foreign hearts meeting for the first time in a
place without walls. I have witnessed friendships forming between
freedom-fighters, here and there, who will never meet. I have seen a
world rising to the occasion and this brings hope to a trembling heart.
We should demand that the world pay attention and that international
organizations denounce ongoing violations in Iran. We should demand
that our countries do this responsibly and without further harming the
Iranian people. Not today and not tomorrow.
