Celebrating Freedom for America and Iran

This Fourth of July, I spent the day in solidarity with the people of Iran. I added a touch of green in honor of the fiercely brave and yet everyday people of Iran.

A lot of people lost their lives last month. Even more are in prison. I don’t see the point of celebrating American freedom if it does not include honoring the Iranians who have sacrificed for their freedom.

My Fourth of July was in honor of an Iranian blogger who wrote to the world believing it would be her last post. In the face of death, she spent her last night doing the things she loved. Her last prayer. She made her hair look pretty one last time. She painted her nails. And then she danced one last time to her favorite song before she walked out to the street ready die for her vote.

My Fourth of July was in honor of the Iranian who video-blogged from the rooftop of a night-darkened Tehran. I sat in prayer and remembered the silence between the cries of Allah-o Akbar (God is of most value) that pierced the night. I remembered how the people’s cries sounded like the soul of Iran moaning in frustration.

I remembered her voice as it cracked with emotion and tension.

I remembered watching people beat, pulled from their cars and then a women named Neda dying on my TV screen. I remembered the man screaming over her. I remembered Neda’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. I remembered the thousands of people that bullet passed through before landing on her chest.

I remembered the beatings becoming more brutal as the Iranians chanted in the streets to not be afraid.

The police would grab protesters while other protesters would attack the police and save their countryman from being taken away.

I remembered the militia driving down the street on their motorbikes only to have people from a bridge above throw bottles - trying to save the trapped crowd below.

This year on the Fourth of July, I honored Iran and how they are scratching at the walls of freedom with bloody fingertips.

This Fourth of July I honored Iran for they have yet to succeed. I did not celebrate 1776. I celebrated bravery and freedom and the ideas of freedom that connect America and Iran through the everyday people who today make up a worldwide nation of my patriots.

Iranian-American protesters debate Obama’s stance

The Fall of Khomeini and Co.

One of the fundamental responsibilities of a state government is to secure the well-being of its citizenry. A government’s failed to protect its people when it starts killing them. And consequently, that’s when it needs to go. Following this weekend’s tragic murder of 16-year-old Neda Soltani, one can see clearly now that the Iranian government is starting to falter. Violence and voluntary armed forces, it seems, are all that the Ayatollah and his cronies have left. And they aren’t using these on outside forces, but their own people.

Could this bloodshed be a sign of the Iranian push toward civic freedom?

According to Ian Bremmer’s J Curve theory, it just might be. Bremmer, president of the Eurasia Group, argues that all non-democratic countries must go through a period of an ultimate low before they surface as civic democracies. This low is fueled by years of increasing domestic unrest (e.g government policies, economic woes, etc) that hit a final tipping point. Following this climax is the kind of revolution we’re seeing in Iran. So what was Iran’s tipping point? I believe it was the mistake the regime made when it deluded itself into thinking that its citizenry would accept a blatantly fixed election (word is now emerging that the government fixed election results in over fifty cities – reporting over 100% votes cast in attempts to boost Ahmadinejad’s popularity). White lies may water down domestic unrest, but an obvious one is often enough to blow the tea kettle.

At first sight of the video, I couldn’t help but wonder: “Was Neda simply a number to be added to Iran’s infamous execution list?” But second thought made me realize, she was anything but. Here I was, sitting thousands of miles away from Tehran, watching the Basij sniper its own citizen.

As the gruesome videos of her death continue to replicate on YouTube, the pressures of globalization are plunging the fragile regime into deeper waters. And the more it so desperately attempts to quash these forces, the further the country moves up the curve. Maybe the regime should have spent the few hours it would have taken to read over Paul Collier’s, The Dictator’s Handbook, before starting to execute its own people.

What we’re seeing now is the manifestation of years of domestic discontent starting to unravel –and the exposed weakness of the Islamic oligarchy. A weakness that is a hop, skip, click away to watch, thanks to the Internet and social networks like Facebook, Twitter and Google’s YouTube.

But to some, this unraveling may still come as a shock. Didn’t the Iranians put the regime into power in 1979?

Sure, thirty years ago. Globalization is thought to have begun shortly after, too. With the end of the Cold War, collapse of the USSR, and the spread of ideologies at T1 speeds - much has changed since, for one thing. This social misconception that the people of such countries have remained politically stagnant for decades is also apparent in other states, like China. The same could be applied to North Korea or Burma, where oppression remains key to survival. But reality is quite the opposite. Due to the lack of majority support, heads-of-state like Khomeini, Jintao and Jong-Il often have to perfect the art of looking better than they really are - or the facade can turn against them. This is where propaganda and tight restrictions on information across state borders become central to a setup like Iran’s Islamic regime.

But unlike 1979, proxy servers and cyber manipulation of time zones can easily get by feeble censorship attempts.

It also doesn’t matter if Iran is religious or not. Non-democratic states come in all shapes and sizes. What matters is that the Iranian oligarchy failed to represent the people. This includes economic downturn and a sense that Iranian national pride has been severely compromised at the international level. And with this, the government turns to the two things that will eventually lead to its collapse. The last Czar of Russia was foolish to trust his army, too - one that would later turn against him. Perhaps the Ayatollah and Ahmadinejad should look over this history before too heavily depending on the Basij.

Assassinations are the ultimate form of censorship, true. They may even be inevitable in the case of statewide revolution. But Neda Soltani symbolizes the explosive and progressive nature of the current revolution. She was a young adult, a philosopher and most strikingly – a woman. Alongside a loving family, she is survived by a progressive ideology that is incapable of destruction by physical silencing. This ideology has contributed to the rise and establishment of many secular and prosperous states today, including post-colonial India, Brazil and post-Franco Spain.

With time, I believe, we will also see Iran climb up from the abysmal nature of Bremmer’s curve and emerge as a civic democracy.

And in that light, Neda’s death was not in vain.

Iranian protests in cities across America

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(Protest in Irvine on Wednesday, June 17)

On every corner of Jamboree and Barranca, hundreds of Iranian Americans held up their signs, chanted and sang as if the massive protests in Iran had just ripped the duct tape off their own mouths.

To some younger Iranian-American protesters, Iran is the place they visit every year. A place they prepare to answer questions properly after stepping off the plane or be thrown in jail. To the protesters over 30, Iran is also the place that they feel cheated them out of their homeland.

These protesters looked at the events happening in Iran and felt the idealism with the masses of bodies, the screams, the baton wielding police, the broken bones and the blood. Together on June 17, they chanted for someone to change anything. For their voices to exist somewhere.

They stood silently at the drive through of the McDonald’s and at the In ‘N’ Out Burger. With determined and yet silent eyes, they stared at the drivers, waiting to be seen. In the end, their hope was to be seen by their own government.

“People want to be heard, we voted and we want our vote counted. That’s all this is,” one man said.

Across green signs they asked,”Where is my vote?” But maybe the signs should have read, “Count me! I am somebody! I refuse to be invisible!”

There was no consensus here of what Iranian-Americans support. Most said they did not support Mousavi. Others held signs that said, “Mousavi is our president.” There was only consensus that the pain from what the protesters refused to call a government, and instead only called a regime, had caused.

“We are all in pain,” said one women. “Iranians feel a pain in our hearts.”

A BBC Photographer of Iranian descent stopped taking her pictures long enough to agree that this was not about Mousavi.  These protests in Iran and in America are about the inner frustrations of not being added into the equation of how life should be in their own home and streets.

“Yes these protests are from 30 years of karma. Karma for making me look at the ground when I would talk to a man,” said another woman as she rushed into the crowds.

A college aged protester ran by with a sign that contained an entire Persian poem from the 12th century titled “Bani Adam.”

Human beings are members of a whole,
In creation of one essence and soul.
If one member is afflicted with pain,
Other members uneasy will remain.
If you have no sympathy for human pain,
The name of human you cannot retain.

The Persian poem hangs on the walls of the UN today.

“If any human is hurting  you should have compassion on him,” the professor said waving her sign at the passing traffic.

“People have been unhappy for 30 years as they have constantly been living in oppression,” one protester said. “Things need to change. Iranians have tried to find happiness from within closed doors, but they cannot express themselves. They are limited in everything they do. Iranian people really do embrace freedom in every way. But they don’t have it. And they won’t have it until this regime is gone.”

I looked up and saw the victory and peace signs reaching out to the cars at the stop light and wondered what it’s like not to be counted.

The Mamak Chronicles: Following Dominos Through Malaysia

The clichéd Zimbabwean butterfly sets off a hurricane in Des Moines, Iowa. Queen Victoria’s genetic make-up threatens the health of Russia’s last potential tsar. The ghosts of men America trains to fight communism in Afghanistan resurfaced twenty years later in New York. A series of seemingly isolated incidents setting each other off: the domino effect. This first week in Malaysia witnessed a chain of dominos clicking into each other, one by one, from Nour and Khalisah to as far as Khatemi and Ahmedinejad.

But let’s start from the beginning. Months ago, we were looking up internships in Dubai. Khalisah’s uncle told us about an organization he’d volunteered with, called Mercy Malaysia. We applied, and were accepted a few weeks later. We began looking for housing, and then Khalisah’s cousin, Winnie, called. Her roommate had moved out and she had a place for us to stay. This was the beginning of two different chains of events that led us to two equally different experiences in the same weekend.

The first branch of the domino chain led us to a young office mate at MERCY Malaysia, Ashaari. He in turn led us to a talk, entitled People Like Us: How Arrogance Divides People, that was taking place at a Lutheran church. The speakers would be a Tricia Yeoh, a Chinese Christian woman who started her own think tank and has moved on to working for the Chief Minister of Selangor, Farouk Musa, a Malaysian man who is an expert on philology, and Waleed Aly, the author of the book that the title of the talk was based on.

Hardly knowing what to expect, we drove to the house with a sign on the gate that read “The Father’s House” and a group of people with flashlights waved us in. The small house-turned-church was crowded with Malaysians buzzing with excitement. Reverend Sivin Kit took the stage and through his energy and humor he introduced the speakers, who took turns discussing what separates people, whether it being religion, history or culture.

It was refreshing to see Indians, Chinese and Malays nodding along in agreement to some key points of the talk. The speakers pointed to the fear that keeps people from crossing religious and ethnic borders and the stereotypes that bolster these fears, such as women in hijab being closed minded. They also discussed how people of different cultures can live in such close proximity without learning about each other until well into adulthood, if at all. Tricia, for example, grew up near a mosque, and when she was ten she thought that the imam was calling the adhan to the tune of the Christian song, “Gloria,” – so she would sing along to the call to prayer every time she’d hear it. Only much later in her adult life did she come to understand what that call meant. Finally, the speakers stressed the central tenant that was common to all faiths: the Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have done unto you,” they concluded, was the only foundation on which any sort of interfaith harmony could be built.

The people in the church who were our age are the first generation of Malaysians to be unfettered by the uncomfortable history of cultural tensions and clashes that have personified the 1960’s and 1970’s, and were keen on bridging the gaps with each other. It was heartening to see that these would be the people who would cross the sensitive barriers and topics that their parents couldn’t and take Malaysia closer to a more equal and just society.

And all of that was just the first branch of dominoes.

The second branch of the domino chain that we touched off went to Winnie, Khalisah’s cousin. She’d started a new job as a manager of a restaurant just two days ago, so we decided to visit her and grab a late lunch there. We ordered all sorts of funky Thai food and were talking our way through green curry chicken, pineapple rice and tear-inducing chili when Winnie came up to us with a weird request. “The two very nice ladies at that other table there want to take a picture with you. Would you mind?” We looked up and saw two small Malay women hunched in their chairs, smiling at us in typical old auntie style. A few minutes later, we’d taken some pictures with their camera, as they explained to us why they wanted to meet us.

We looked Iranian, they said. When we told them that we weren’t, they wanted to know where we were really from. After telling them that we were both writers and studying international relations, they nodded and said “Ah, we thought you were Iranian, you see, because we’ve been to Iran so many times that we’ve gotten to know Khatami and Ahmadinijad quite well.” Our smiles slipped a little at those words, and before we could finish saying “excuse me, what?” one old auntie had pulled out a photo of herself with a candid Ahmadinijad from a pink plastic bag that had been stuffed in her purse. Then, before we could react, she had another picture with Khatami. Suddenly our unexpected photo shoot became an interview: how did they meet them? What were they doing in Iran? Who were all those other people in the photos? And who in the world were they?

The women were sisters, and one of them was a writer who had traveled the world meeting all sorts of foreign leaders, writing for various newspapers and publishing a few books. She wasn’t a particularly famous personality, and she wanted things to stay that way. Through her work, she and her sister had met high level people from Indonesian officials to Benazir Bhutto.

Besides telling us about all of their escapades in the Islamic Republic, the sisters also talked to us about the decay of Malaysian society – everything from excessive littering on the streets to illegitimate babies left on the doorsteps of mosques. “We went to discos and danced in our day,” they assured us. “But it was all in the open, respectful. None of this drugs, pregnancies, rudeness. Especially by those kids who look more conservative on the outside then are not on the inside.” It was an interesting version of Malaysia that they gave us. At maghrib time, they excused themselves. They had to go back home for prayer. We exchanged emails and phone numbers, and promised to meet up again.

As we were waiting for the bus later that evening, we couldn’t get over the surprises that we’d encountered over the last few days. All we did to start everything off was come to Malaysia. The rest just sort of happened to us. In this continuously unfolding series of events, we mused as the bus drove up to take us home, who knows where the next dominos will fall?

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The Mamak Chronicles documents the Malaysian summer of Nour Merza and Khalisah Stevens. With the convenient excuse of an internship, these two half Americans find their way into the heart of Kuala Lumpur, where, in between haggling over souvenirs and missing buses, they sustain themselves by frequenting the food stalls that line the streets of the city. It is in these Mamaks that they discover the lifeblood of all that is Malaysian.

Western Media Misread Iranian Elections

Reports on the Iranian elections by Western media have been misleading.

They portray the election battle as a struggle between conservative Pres. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and moderate Mir Hussein Moussavi. The election battle, however, is actually a struggle over power and money, not democracy.

Ahmadinejad is cast as unpopular, and most coverage presumes that he stole the elections from Moussavi. Many western journalists compare Moussavi with Pres. Barack Obama and broadcast news show frequent images of bloody demonstrations as evidence that Iranians like Moussavi because he represents change. The truth, however, is completely the opposite.

Western media have failed to answer the question: Why did the majority of Iranians vote for Ahmadinejad? The answer is simple: because he, not Moussavi, is their Obama. This may be difficult for a westerner to understand. Yes, Ahmadinejad has been accused of wanting to wipe Israel off the map and developing a nuclear weapon and quoted denying the Holocaust. However, from the perspective of ordinary Iranians who voted for him, these things are not important. What is important is the fact that he is the only president who has been courageous enough to stand up for “millionaire mullahs” headed by Ayatollah Ali Akbar Hashemi Rafsanjani, the main supporter of Moussavi.

After the establishment of the Islamic republic in 1979, the country’s wealth was transformed into charity organizations headed by mullahs. Since then, these organizations, which are not audited, have become corrupt. There is also widespread corruption among the mullahs who exploit their power to accumulate wealth.

During his first term in office, Ahamdinejad clashed with these millionaire mullahs when he launched a campaign to rid Iran of corruption. His goal is to nationalize the charity organizations, which means that they would be subjected to auditing. This has made these mullahs very nervous.

Al Jazeera English reported that Rafsanjani, Moussavi’s chief supporter, is now in Rome. He is there to use the momentum of the students’ riots to generate support for other rich mullahs and to make sure that his position will be secure in the post-election era.

During the televised debates between Ahmadinejad and Moussavi, the president singled out Rafsinjani and asked, “How did Rafsanjani’s sons became millionaires?” The Rafsanjani family is known to have used its powerful position to amass huge wealth like many other mullahs.

Ahmadinejad, on the other hand, is well known for his humble family background. This was pointed out on Monday by Iran’s Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who called on Iran to vote for the candidate whose life is not corrupt.

Ahmadinejad is the son of a blacksmith from South Tehran. This is extremely important for Iranians who resent the widening gap between the haves and have nots. According to Al Jazeera English, this gap has increased during the past decades and is visible in the extreme poverty in south Tehran and extreme wealth in the city’s north.

Those who carried out the Islamic revolution vowed to end corruption and the disparity between rich and poor. This works to Ahmadinejad’s advantage. Many voted for him because of his concerns about corruption and inequalities, which in their view are counter to true Islam. This means that Iranian society, which tends to be religious, sees him as a better candidate. One should not underestimate the power of mosques in Iran.

Having said that, one should not ignore the role of dissatisfied students who simply want more freedom. Moussavi does have the support of many of them, but his lethal mistake is his strange alliance with conservative and rich Mullah Rafsanjani. During the televised debates, Ahmadinejad stressed these strange relations and used them link Moussavi to corruption.

Once the votes are recounted, and the riots end, it will be interesting to see where the struggle between Ahmadinejad and Rafsanjai will lead. Will Ahmadinejad continue to receive the backing of Supreme Leader Khamenei, or will Rafsanjani, the second most powerful man, manage to stop Ahmadinejad? Time will tell, but the Western media won’t get the story right if it cannot transcend its current script.

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This article originally appeared on New America Media.