Written By: Marjan Laghaee
Translated by: Lily Mazahery
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Father, last night, you said: “In the past few days, as I tried to secure Saghi and Sara’s freedom, various images of Jaleh Square passed before my eyes. It was like a movie screen. I could not help but wonder why is it that my children stand on the opposite side of the revolution in which I participated and held so dear, or why is it that my children are being arrested by my fellow revolutionaries.”
Tonight, dear father, it is my turn to write to you: I, too, saw many images flash before my eyes when I accompanied you in Jaleh Square. (Albeit I was not there at the time of the revolution, and, unlike you, I did not endure the pains of a revolution for which I should now feel such regret.)
Father, do you remember the days when the war began between Iran and Iraq and I was only a newborn? Do you remember what you did to me? You did not even bother to look into my anxious and worried eyes so that you could understand how I felt: I did not want to be a part of your war.
Do you, father, remember how you rejected me and my siblings so you could join your friends on the frontlines of the war? Dad, you did not ask us if we wanted to share your war, just like you never asked us if we wanted to share your revolution. Yet, it is us who has to pay a bitter price to your fellow revolutionaries today.
Dad, my heart breaks for Arta and Arvand, who, like me, are forced to watch with worried eyes as they wait for their mother to return. With every ring of the door bell, they jump out of their seats, thinking that this time, their mother, Saghi, has finally returned home to them. When I listen to the beats of their hearts -- which, at every second beat twice as fast -- I can feel the fear that they carry in their hearts. I recognize this fear because it is the same fear that had held me hostage within its grasp during the war years. It is precisely the same fear that my mother felt when you left her alone with your children so you could take part in the revolution that was supposed to set you “free.” Do you remember, dad?
Now, you and your fellow revolutionaries have forced Arta and Arvand to share your revolution without ever asking them if they want to be your partner in this, just as you failed to ask me and my sisters. Father, like you, I have thought about Jaleh Square over and over again: I thought about it when they arrested my sisters for committing the crime of standing by a wall. And I thought about it when your fellow revolutionaries answered my sisters’ peaceful objections with batons.
Father, please ask your fellow revolutionaries why is it that my sisters and I are considered to be only ½ human? Why do they answer our objections by beating us, arresting us, and keeping us in jail without even taking off our blindfolds? Father, please ask your fellow revolutionaries why is that they stone women to death, but not men? Ask them why is it that women have lost their right to the custody of their own children, but not men? Ask your revolutionaries why is it that we must live according to their wishes and rules? Ask your fellow revolutionaries why is it that the gift of their revolution to us is the denial of our rights and to the Artas and Arvands of Iran it is fear? Father, ask them why are they so afraid of our silence and why do they arrest us for that silence?
Dad, when I was little, I would ask you why is it that my brother is free to do whatever he wants to do? I would ask why girls are deemed to be worthless, but boys are revered? You would tell me that that was not the case, that God had created this earth for Fatemeh. Dear dad, I am the same sex as Fatemeh, so why is it that they deny me my rights? Dad, when you took part in the revolution, did you not shout for “Liberty, Freedom, Islamic Republic”? Then where is this liberty? Where is freedom? Why ….
Dad, you and your fellow revolutionaries were arrested because you shouted your slogans and your demands. So why is it that my sisters and I are arrested when we are silent? Father, please ask your fellow revolutionaries why do they hang us? Why do they stone us? Why do they keep us in poverty? Why do they subject us to inequality?
Father, just like you, I believe that I must shout for my rights, but, this time, we were truly silent despite thousand words that needed to have been said and in spite of countless shouts that should have been heard; yet your fellow revolutionaries arrested us for simply being there and being silent.
Father, when you and your fellow revolutionaries took to the streets, you did not consider our needs. When you went to war, you did not ask us if wanted to share your war. So, please tell your fellow revolutionaries to ask us about the silent stance that bothers them so much. Tell them that we are only seeking the freedom that is the inherent right of every human.
Father, tell your fellow revolutionaries that we fight our war not with guns, force, or blindfolds. We fight our fight with our pens. We fight your fellow revolutionaries with the very silence that eats them at their core.
Father, I have thought about Jaleh Square for a long time myself and I can not help but envy those who have left us and have left behind only their noble names; for they did not join your comrades as our persecutors. They did not stay here to be filled with regrets, as you are now filled when images of Jaleh Square flash you by.
Marjan Laghaee is a prominent journalist, writer, and women’s rights activist in Iran. Marjan’s sisters, Saghi and Sara, who are also active members of the women’s freedom movement in Iran, were arrested along with 31 others on March 4, 2007 during a peaceful assembly in front of the “Revolution” court in Tehran on unspecified charges.
Arta and Arvand are Ms. Laghaee’s toddler nieces.
“The Revolution” refers to the 1979 revolution that replaced the Shah of Iran with the Islamic Republic and the Ayatollah Khomeini as its leader.
Lily Mazahery is an Iranian-born human rights attorney and an active advocate of rights for Iranian women.
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